He bit his lip. This meant he’d have to come clean and tell Maiya about it. This was something that directly impacted her. She had a right to know. She’d saved him, after all. The least he could do was fill the gaps in her memory.
“Are you… alright?” Greesha asked, though her hard edge had softened a bit. Vir saw some of that fear return. “I, er… to be honest, I’m rightly unsure how to address you, Akh Nara.”
Greesha whispered the title, almost reverently.
Vir waved away her concern, surprised to find her fretting over something so trivial.
“Continue as you are. My cover cannot be compromised. Which is why I need your help. Cirayus said I could trust you, and I trust Cirayus.”
There was so much Vir wanted to talk about. Even now, the blood boiled just beneath his skin. This was the demon who’d prophesied his birth. Who’d caused the death of his mother, father, and thousands of his clan. He wanted to yell at the woman. To tell her she should’ve known what it would mean to reveal her prophecy to the world. That Vir never wanted this burden. That he’d have given it all up just to have a happy life with his parents.
He said none of those things. For while he might’ve hated her, he’d deal with it. Because right now, Greesha was indispensable for him. And there were more important things than being angry at an old woman.
“You can,” she replied confidently.
“There is much I don’t know about the Demon Realm,” Vir said. “About Samar Patag. And… my people. How many are left? Do they survive?”
Greesha looked off into the distance. She said nothing for a moment, then two. When Vir thought she’d forgotten him entirely, she finally spoke.
“The war was not easy for any of us. But yes. They do. We live on. Mostly, anyway. Though what we currently have here is… well, you ought to be the one to judge for yourself.”
“Where should I begin?”
Greesha rubbed her chin in thought. “For one, you’ll be needing a Chitran Calling badge. Warrior, preferably. I can arrange this, though it may take a day or two.”
“You can make them so easily?” Vir asked.
“Not easily, no. I’d be pulling many strings. I don’t do this for just anyone. But, well… your existence is critical to the future of this realm… and I owe a great debt to your family,” she added softly, gaze drifting as if peering across space and time.
Is that… remorse in her voice?
So what if it was, though? Her feelings wouldn’t change the past. Rather than dive into an argument that would likely end in a shouting match, Vir took a deep breath and kept the conversation on topic.
There would be time for such chats later.
“They… really aren’t equal, are they?” Vir asked. “The Callings…”
The old woman chuckled. “Well, it’s no wonder you were so rude before. Is that what Cirayus told you?”
Vir shrugged. “He said I should see with my own eyes.”
“Of course he did,” Greesha snorted. “Typical Cirayus. The answer should be obvious, yes?”
Vir nodded slowly. “Equal in theory, but in practice…”
“The Rulers hold all the power, kept in check only by the greater number of Warriors. As for the Laborers, they’re the least respected. They can influence the others if they all band together, but that never happens. As for the Outcasts, well…”
“Right. In that case, can you make me a few different badges under different names?”
Greesha frowned. “Granting one Warrior badge is within my means. Several, however…”
“No, one Warrior badge is enough. Give me Laborer and Outcast Callings.”
“Outcast? Why would you—”She appraised Vir. “You are serious about this?”
“Yes. If I’m going to get to know my people, I need to live as they live. I need to see the worst side of this city.”
“Very well,” Greesha replied. “Far less scrutiny for those badges. Brace yourself. You will not like what you see.”
“Thanks, but I can handle myself. I’ll also need to hook up with the Rebellion.”
Greesha drew a short breath. Nearly imperceptible, but Vir caught it.
“Would that… be a bad idea?”
“Perceptive, aren’t you?” Greesha said, looking impressed. “The Rebellion is… perhaps not what you think they are.”
“Meaning?”
“Just don’t go revealing your true identity to them anytime soon. You… may not appreciate the results. Or their ways, for that matter.”
Ah.
“They blame me for what happened,” Vir said.
“Some do. Worse—they’re borderline fanatics. Times were… rough, after the fall. I myself nearly didn’t make it. Managed to establish a footing here thanks to my powers as a Seer. Most of what I do is keep those hooligans in check. They’re just prana bombs waiting to go off, if you ask me. Always on the cusp of ruining what little we have. You’ll find in them at best, a challenge, and at worst, an enemy.”
Vir’s hopes for swooping in and organizing those demons began to crumble before his eyes.
“Can you put me in touch?” Vir asked.
Greesha shook her head. “It’d do more harm than good, I’m afraid. My reputation with them is less than pleasant. Better to get noticed by them on your own, if that’s your wish. Make a name for yourself. They’re like hounds; they simply can’t resist the scent of fresh blood.”
“I see,” Vir said, understanding that this was going to be a longer road than he thought. “Is there hope?”
Greesha smiled sadly. “There was, at the beginning. It was a chal’s hope, but the spark was there. Gargans fought back. There’s only so many times you can fail before you get some sense knocked into you. Especially when failure means death. Or worse. Without a leader to rally behind, without resources and allies… We never stood a chance. So, you ask, is there hope?”
Greesha stared earnestly into Vir’s eyes.
“There wasn’t before. There is now.”
13THE FABLE
Vir left Greesha’s temple with a torrent of emotions welling inside him. There had been so much more to say, but the time wasn’t right. Vir hadn’t even broached the topic of Greesha’s prophecy of his birth and wasn’t sure when he would. He was afraid that if he had, he couldn’t have restrained his pent-up anger.
And so, he’d forced it down. Right now, he simply couldn’t afford to lose even a single ally.
Vir crossed the streets, passing by Kothis, red demons, and bandies with his Chitran Laborer Calling badge slung around his neck. There was another in his bag, with a different name and Calling.
He’d altered his makeup and now bore the face of a red demon. Similar to the previous one, yet different enough not to be mistaken—this way, he had a couple of legitimate identities he could shift between as needed. Greesha’s pull was real—she’d had the badges made in just moments, instructing Vir to seek a woman named Janani.
Vir wasn’t really sure what he ought to be doing. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had no concrete goal, other than the vague desire to grow closer to the Gargans living in Samar Patag. He hoped this Janani might give him a bit of direction.
A black blur in the corner of Vir’s vision interrupted his thoughts.
About time…
Shan was waiting for Vir on a rooftop. The pointed cones of the buildings made for awkward footing, but they also perfectly hid anyone who managed it.
“About time you showed up,” Vir said, kneeling and stroking the Ash Wolf’s jet-black fur. It’d taken the better part of a year for the animal to open up to pets, and Vir considered it a hard-fought perk. He was willing to bet that for most people, petting an Ash Wolf was the last thing they ever pet.
“Bet you were out exploring the city, weren’t you? Find anything good?”