Without thinking, Svar fell to his knees and prostrated.
“P-please, almighty one. I beg of you, spare us! We plead for our lives. Please!”
The being in black did not reply. Svar could feel its gaze on them. Judging them. A predator pondering whether to slaughter its prey.
“Spare you?” the being in black thundered. “Worthless mortal. Why?”
Mortal?
“A-are you a god?”
A pause. Had he offended it?
Oh gods. We’re dead.
“I am Vaak,” the being replied slowly.
Vaak? What kind of god is that?
“Anything you wish, O Demon God Vaak! You will have it! Our souls! We’ll dedicate ourselves to you!”
The being scoffed in derision.
We’ve angered it! Vera have mercy!
“Of what use are your worthless souls? I wish only for peace and quiet. I tire of your antics.”
Antics?
Svar paled. The orphans? But why? No, I cannot question a god!
“We’ll stop! I swear on my life. If it appeases you, we won’t play with those kids any longer!”
The being didn’t respond. Had he angered it even more?
Slowly, Svar raised his head. It was gone.
Svar turned. The Ash Wolf was gone as well.
“Spread my name,” the being’s disembodied voice boomed, startling Svar. “Let the world know. I have arisen.”
“I shall! I will!”
Demon God Vaak? What have I done?
Vir had seen the gods. He knew of their incomprehensible power. He wasn’t even close to their level.
He’d just wanted to teach those bullies a lesson and to spread his name! Now he feared he’d gone too far.
Shan looked up at him. He shrugged.
“Er. That kid will probably forget all about this by tomorrow, anyway. Right?” He laughed awkwardly, earning him a disapproving look from the wolf.
Vir didn’t believe his own words even as he uttered them. He may very well have unleashed upon the world something that couldn’t be taken back.
Shan snorted, as if to mock, then bounded away.
Vir felt a sense of loss whenever the wolf left, but it was for the best. Now that Vaak had been introduced to the world, the less anyone saw them together, the better.
For while Vir might’ve said too much, he hadn’t lied.
He’d seen enough. Of Samar Patag. Of the Chitran. Of the squalor and the oppression that crushed his people.
Maybe the Chits weren’t all bad, but something had to be done.
When Vir entered the Demon Realm, he’d been unsure of what he had to do. Of what he could do, as a lone demon.
Now, not a trace of that doubt lingered.
No matter how strong, a single demon could only do so much.
But a symbol? That was another matter entirely. A symbol could inspire hope in demons across the realm. A symbol could instill terror in the hearts of enemies both near and far. A symbol could not be corrupted or killed or suppressed.
A symbol was eternal. Vaak was eternal.
Samar Patag had to change. The Chitran had to change.
And if the price for realizing that dream was to become a demon god, then it was a price Vir was glad to pay.
16PRECIPICE OF CHANGE
“This mistreatment. This poverty… Is there truly nothing that can be done?” Vir asked. He paced around the orphanage classroom, which was currently devoid of children.
“I’ve been doing my best since the war,” Janani said, biting her lip. “If there was even a sliver of hope, believe me, I’d have grabbed a hold of it. But we have no power here. The Chitrans won the war, and it was no close thing. They wield ultimate authority now. It’s… Well, it’s not so bad.”
Vir raised a brow. “Not so bad? From what I’ve seen, I find it hard to believe it can get much worse.”
Janani averted her eyes. “We’ve eked out a life here. I suppose we should be grateful they haven’t driven us out… Although that might actually be preferable for some of us. I imagine we’d have a far easier time in Baira or Panav. Assuming we survived the journey, of course.”
“They keep you within the city walls to prevent that exact scenario,” Vir said, his blood starting to boil. The Chits weren’t happy with just winning. By forcing them to stay within the city walls, they were telling the world that they wanted the Gargans to suffer.
“What do you need most right now? Food? Clothing?”
“Well,” Janani said, frowning. “Clothes are always appreciated, what with the young ones constantly outgrowing them. But it’s the food I worry about. Without a proper diet, I fear their growth will be stunted.”
“How do you usually get your food?” Vir asked, wondering if he couldn’t—if not solve the problem—at least help.
“Greesha does what she can, though we only try to rely on her when our situation grows dire. She takes a grave risk in helping us. Everyone does.”
“I’m surprised, given her Ruler Calling,” Vir said.
“Not even Greesha is above the law. If she’s ever discovered, she’d be stripped of her Ruler Calling and made an Outcast. Or worse…”
Vir had to give the Seer some credit. Risking her life and reputation to feed orphans was a noble act. Regardless of her prior actions.
But if they can’t rely on Greesha all the time, then how… Ah.
“You steal what you need?”
Janani nodded. “It isn’t exactly theft, but yes. I am ashamed to admit it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Over the years, I’ve managed to reach out to sympathetic grocers. Most are ex-Gargan Laborers, but a few are actually Chitran Kothis. We… have an informal agreement, of sorts.”
“An agreement?” Vir asked. “I thought you said—oh. I see. The children go and ‘steal’ from these grocers, don’t they?”
“Exactly. It’s the only way they can give us produce without running afoul of Governor Asuman’s enforcers.”
“I’m surprised no one’s noticed.” It seemed like the sort of secret that’d eventually get out. Especially if several grocers took part.
Janani laughed wryly. “Oh, they know. But thankfully, Asuman also knows that without food, we’ll starve. And if word spread that swaths of Gargans are suddenly dying off, I can’t imagine it’d do anything good for Raja Matiman’s reputation.”
Matiman? So that’s the name of the Chitran Raja—their Clanlord…
“What’s his reputation like these days?” Vir asked.
Janani shrugged. “News is scarce around here. All we hear are rumors. Whether they are to be believed is anyone’s guess. Still, nobody particularly likes him. Several clans still harbor misgivings over Chitran’s conquest of Garga. As the commander of the invading force, I suppose Matiman’s presence must serve as a reminder of their actions.”
So, some of them regret their actions, huh? That was good to know, though Vir found it hard to pity them. They’d chosen to invade Garga. In the same way that seeking revenge wouldn’t bring back the dead, neither would their repentance.
If Vir succeeded in restoring the Garga to their former glory, there would be remuneration to pay. He’d see to it.
“I fear that Governor Asuman might be losing his mind of late, however,” Janani said. “Either that, or he’s losing control of his enforcers.”
“What do you mean?”
“He has begun persecuting shopkeepers suspected of helping us. Some did. Others, we had nothing to do with. Everyone’s afraid now, and who can blame them? Nobody wants to have their hands cut off and be labeled an Outcast.”
Vir grimaced. If this was the punishment Asuman’s forces were dealing with for such minor crimes, Vir shuddered to think what sentences more serious offenses got.