“I wasn’t sure at first,” Janani said, squirming under his gaze, “but it’s much too much of a coincidence. The masked hero. Vaak—of Ash. The one who’s been galavanting as a Chitran Warrior Calling, stealing food.”
“Oh, that guy,” Vir replied. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him. What a chal, huh?”
Janani threw Vir an unamused look. “The timing is too perfect. Every time this Vaak character steals food, Greesha’s food stores grow. Every time—I’ve checked! Greesha refuses to say a word about this to me. She’s never been so withdrawn! If that isn’t suspicious, I don’t know what is!”
Vir didn’t reply immediately. It’d be difficult to dupe Janani for much longer if she’d gone to such lengths. Not that he ever intended to. It’d be bad if word got out to the general populous about his exploits, but with Janani running the orphanage, he figured it was only a matter of time until she learned.
“You’re certainly thorough,” Vir admitted.
“Neel, who are you?” Janani asked.
“What do you mean?” Vir asked, keeping his expression perfectly neutral.
“I mean, you suddenly appear out of nowhere, not knowing our most basic customs.”
“I was training—”
“Training in the Ash. Yes, you’ve said so. Several times. But why help us when you have no attachment to this city? Why put your life in such danger? Why start all… this?” she asked, pointing to a black wooden mask on a nearby table. It was just one of many that started circulating around the orphanage. These days, it was hard to go a hundred paces without encountering someone wearing a black mask.
It’d been mayhem for the Chitran guards, which worried Vir. Thus far, the masked figures kept to themselves, only sometimes causing crimes, but if left unchecked, it’d get out of hand.
It was, in fact, Vir’s most pressing concern. He’d wanted to create a symbol, but he’d never planned for it to be such a success. He feared he’d set into motion events that were spiraling out of his control. It needed to be stopped—and soon.
“This may sound crazy,” Janani murmured, “but… Are you the Akh Nara?”
Vir laughed, which made Janani’s face flush.
“Right. Sorry. Forget I said anything,” Janani said hastily, twiddling her thumbs.
“Can you accept that I’m just someone who sympathizes with your plight? I… just want to do what I can. While I can.”
“You’ve already done so much. Who among us can question you? I can scarcely recall a time when we’ve eaten this well. The children are happier than ever. This is… truly a blessing.”
“It’s nothing that impressive… but, well. You’re with the rebellion. Aren’t you?”
Janani nodded. “How could I not be? The sooner we escape the thumb of the Chitran, the better it will be for the children. For myself, as well. There was a time when I’d have fought for the future of this city. Now… Now, I just want to live like a normal person.”
Vir hesitated. “What you told the kids the other day. About the Akh Nara. Do you really believe all that?”
Janani smiled, embarrassed. “I apologize for earlier. I suppose if you’d asked me only weeks ago, I’d have said yes. I needed the Akh Nara, you see. After so long dealing with the Chitran… with our situation… I needed hope. Something to help carry us through our day. Even if that was nothing but a fantasy. Also, the kids truly do enjoy stories about the Akh Nara. Sometimes, I worry if they’ll all develop hero complexes as a result.”
“But now?” Vir asked, sensing where this was going.
“Well… now, we don’t need the Akh Nara. We have you.”
Vir bit his lip. I was afraid of this.
“I really think you should meet the rebellion,” Janani said. “They’ve been anxious.”
“You’ve told them about me, then?”
Vir hadn’t exactly been forthright with her about his identity, but he’d hoped she’d exercise discretion on this matter.
Janani shook her head. “I have not. But I am not the only one noticing the changes in the children. Some among the rebellion have pieced together that the fruits of the raids may be finding their way into our hands. It has been… difficult to deny. Several are convinced I know your identity.”
Which, of course, means the Chits have caught on as well.
The reason the Chitrans hadn’t yet mobilized was precisely because of the mask sitting on the table. When everyone was Vaak, how could they be sure? When every downtrodden Gargan wore the mask, how could they know they weren’t about to attack a high-ranking Chitran warrior?
No Chitran wanted to be the one to take the fall for that.
And so, they were left alone, and a tenuous peace existed.
Yet Vir knew well just how fragile that peace was. The moment a rebel, or a desperate Gargan, lashed out and hurt—or killed—a guard, there’d be war.
“I have to say, I never figured you were one of them,” Vir said, understanding the real reason Greesha had sent him here. It was smart of her to do so. Vir was hooked right into sympathizing with the orphans, and now, he’d been dangled as bait for the rebellion.
“Truly? I’d have thought the opposite,” Janani said. “Would you like to meet them?”
“Of course,” Vir replied without hesitation. It’d been his plan to link up with the rebellion all along. Only Greesha’s words of caution gave him pause. Of how the rebellion was composed of fanatics, and to exercise extreme caution about who he revealed his identity to.
But then, that was the beauty of disguise—it never just had to be a single layer. He’d admit to the rebels that he was Vaak—Warrior of Ash, responsible for the symbol that was Demon God Vaak, and for stealing the orphans’ food.
His mask would be peeled back, but all they would find was another layer. For he wouldn’t divulge that he was Sarvaak, son of Maion and Shari, prince of Garga. He wouldn’t say he was the Akh Nara.
Not yet. Not until he’d gained his people’s favor.
Vir rose. “Take me to them.”
Vir entered the warehouse hoping to learn how the rebellion conducted their daily business. He figured such an organization would have several tricks and tactics for conducting clandestine operations under the Chitrans’ watchful eye. He also wanted to gauge their cohesion and capabilities.
As such, he’d asked Janani not to introduce him right away, and pretended to be a new member that she vouched for. He’d remained at the back of the storehouse all the while. Listening. Observing.
Now, less than an hour later, Vir wanted to groan.
“And I’m saying we ought to strike while the iron’s hot!” someone said. “We’ve never had a better chance to take down the Chitrans! The people will unite. We have the numbers!”
“There’ll be no one to stop us. Once we take Samar Patag, the Chitran will have no choice but to let us keep it!” another stated with absolute confidence.
This wasn’t a rebellion. It was a hodgepodge group of downtrodden Gargans driven to desperate measures.
“Count me out. You lot want to get yourselves killed, go right ahead,” a gruffy-looking demon said.
“Cowardice is what they’re relying on! Don’t you see that? Fine. Stay behind. I’ll storm the castle myself if I have to. Vaak will protect us!”
The room erupted into arguments and insults, and all the while, Janani kept stealing looks at Vir, pleading with him to do something.
Vir, in fact, wanted to do the exact opposite. He would’ve liked nothing more than to slip away, but as the cause of this heated debate, he had an obligation to intervene. If left unchecked, Vir was certain these rebels’ actions would end in tragedy. Not just for them, but for Gargans everywhere.