“They call themselves the Garga Lavani,” Cirayus began. “Some see them as craven misfits. Others call them a cult. The cult of the Akh Nara.”
Vir’s eyes widened. “How many are there? Are they organized?”
“That’s the thing, lad,” Cirayus said. “No one knows. I’ve been putting out feelers, trying to contact them, but they’re like a bonfire. When lit, they blaze so brightly, you can’t avoid them even if you tried. But when dormant, you could search the ends of the realm and never find a single one.”
“I’ve been searching as well,” Thaman said. “And I’ve met with the same results. Still, I’d say you’re better off without them.”
“Aye,” Cirayus agreed. “They’ve been nothing but a nuisance to the Akh Naras of the past. Following him around and worshiping him like a living god.”
Vir’s eyes met Ashani’s, and they both grimaced. That was an outcome neither wanted, but in Vir’s case, he’d happily take that sacrifice if it meant bolstering his army.
“You’re saying they might have someone who can inscribe the tattoos?” Vir asked.
“Possibly,” Thaman replied. “Though I sincerely doubt it.”
“So, we’re back where we started, then,” Vir said, shoulders sagging. He wasn’t quite sure how to take the revelation of the Garga Lavani. Ostensibly, they could be an asset, and at the very worst, a nuisance as Cirayus had said. Vir doubted they’d be an antagonistic force, so if they did still exist, they could present Vir with an opportunity to exploit.
Given that there seemed to be little he could do to contact them, Vir had little choice but to give them time to reach out to him.
“I can’t just sit around and bank my future on hopes and dreams,” Vir said. “If there are none who can inscribe the tattoo, then I’d like to have your—”
“There is one,” Cirayus said in a tone that made it look as though uttering the words caused him bodily injury. “There is but one being in all the realms who can.”
“Who?” Vir asked.
“No,” Thaman said. “Not him. Better to sell your soul to the Asuras than to engage in a bargain with that demon. Leave that blight to rot in the Ash.”
Vir had a suspicion he knew exactly who they were talking about.
“It’s Saunak, isn’t it?”
Merely uttering his name caused Thaman to recoil in disgust, and Cirayus’ reaction wasn’t much more muted, either.
“You know of him?” Thaman asked. “How?”
“We crossed paths in the Ashen Realm.”
Cirayus scoffed. “Bloody nut imprisoned the lad and nearly killed his wolf.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Vir began, but swiftly stopped. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Saunak. The demon was eccentric, to say the least. All of what Cirayus said was true. And yet, he’d gifted them an Automaton of the gods, as well as a manual on Thaumaturgy.
The manual had been largely useless, yet there was no denying that Vir left Saunak’s tower far better off than he’d been upon entering it.
“You can’t trust that madman, Cirayus,” Thaman was shouting. “Not with the Akh Nara! He’s your godson. What would Maion say?”
“I’m not arguing, Thaman. Just saying we should consider all the—”
“No. This is not an option. I refuse to—”
“Enough,” Vir said, silencing the Raja. “My apologies,” Vir immediately added, realizing his tone had been more aggressive than he’d intended. “This decision is mine to make, and I assure you, it will not be made in haste. I swear to give this the consideration it is due. For now, though, I believe I will defer inscribing Balancer of Scales. Thaman, may I take a copy of the inscription with me?”
Thaman said nothing for a long while, prompting Cirayus to clear his throat. “He’s right, Thaman. The decision is his to make. The art is his, by rights. You cannot take that away from him.”
Thaman ran a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh. “Fine. But do not come crying to me when that lunatic permanently cripples the savior of our realm.”
Vir raised a brow, and he wasn’t the only one. Aida and Cirayus looked just as surprised.
“Are those the words of the Bairan Raja?” Cirayus asked. “Or the whelp I trained?”
Thaman seemed to realize the meaning of his words. “By Yuma, it’s been a long day,” he said, sounding utterly exhausted. “I’ve yet to rally the clan to the cause, but between us in this room, does it really need to be stated where I personally stand? This realm is broken. The way I see it, young Sarvaak here is our best hope of attaining the heights we’d once achieved. Before all of this clan squabbling and petty politics.”
“Aye, that’s the whelp I raised,” Cirayus said, beaming.
“Thank you, Thaman,” Vir said. “Your support means a great deal to me. And to the people of my clan.”
“Yes, well,” Thaman said. “You can use all the friends you can get, Champion. I fear even then, it may not be enough. What will you do now?”
“Now?” Vir said. “Now, I return to the Ash, where my troops await. There, we will train, and there, along with Cirayus, we will forge them into the finest fighting force this realm has ever seen.”
“Good plan,” Thaman said. “I would like to have my Warriors train alongside you at all times. We can arrange for supplies, though until I am able to rally Bairan support, I’m afraid anything I do will be limited to my personal means.”
“Not a problem,” Vir said. “And we can keep your troops supplied within the Ash. All I ask is for more Thaumaturges to join us, and for smithing equipment. Give me your best soldiers, and I promise I will return them a hundredfold stronger.”
“Your offer is tempting. Dangerously so,” Thaman said.
“No danger here, Thaman,” Vir said with a smile. “I hope to forge a bond of mutual benefit. For decades and centuries to come. As you just said—we need to get past political games and clan warfare. This is how it begins.”
Thaman grinned. “Brick by brick.”
“Stone by stone,” Vir completed.
The three of them chatted for the next several hours while Aida returned through Ashani’s Gate to fetch her things for the journey ahead. Ashani had never been to Vir’s demon camp, so they would have to take her Gate to the outskirts of the city, before walking to the Gate Vir had established near the Boundary. Once through—assuming they could get Aida to fit—it would be another trip to the camp.
At normal speeds, this would all take days, but Vir and Cirayus reduced that to a mere handful of hours. It was agreed that Aida would ride atop Cirayus’ shoulders, while Ashani would be held by Vir in his arms. She’d vehemently refused the indignity of riding on his shoulders, let alone being carried like a sack of potatoes.
“I’d hoped to meet with the Panav Rajni, but I suppose striking up relations with two Rajas is more than I could’ve hoped for.”
“Kira had to return to her clan on urgent matters, I’m afraid,” Thaman said. “She actually wanted to chat with you as well. Alas, she’s asked me to forward you an invitation to Vraj Parah.”
Vir nodded. “Please convey that I would be honored to—”
“You weren’t about to leave without me, were you?” Tara said, bursting through the door, looking like she was about to embark on a voyage of a hundred years. She carried on her back a rucksack easily as tall as her, and at least a half dozen weapons were strapped to it on all sides. They jingled as she walked, upsetting her balance and nearly making her tip over.
Vir couldn’t even begin to guess how much it all weighed, and Tara had neither Balancer of Scales nor the innate might of the Bairans to ease her burden.
“Tara?” Thaman cried. “This is a private meeting! Besides, how did you—?”