41THE BURDEN OF SUCCESS
“Listen up, ya sorry sods,” the Overseer shouted, hands clasped behind his back in perfect military form. His monkey tail swished rhythmically in coordination with his swagger as he walked the length of a raised wooden podium.
A day had passed since Vir’s Guardian Ranking evaluations, and the prisoners from Vir’s batch had all been gathered at the center of Garrison Atnu, raising the spirits of all present. While the Garrison’s walls may not offer any protection from the falling Ash, at least here, the chilling winds didn’t bother them as much. Here, for the time being, they were safe from the Ash Beasts.
“What have you learned?” Balagra whispered to Vir as they listened.
Vir didn’t answer, hesitant to share.
For an entire day, his batch had been left alone to their devices, so long as they didn’t attempt to mingle with the other camps. It was a limited luxury, though Vir was surprised they were granted even that much. It hadn’t sat well with either Vir or Balagra, so Vir had done some digging.
“Do you know what they have in store for us?” Balagra asked again.
Unfortunately, their batch mates were as clueless as everyone else, and it was only over the past hour, when they’d passed another group on their way in, that Vir learned of what was in store for them.
He’d been wracking his head, trying—and failing—to come up with a countermeasure ever since.
“Nothing good, I’m afraid,” Vir whispered back. “Our suspicions were right.”
“Figures,” Balagra grunted in resignation. There was only one reason why the Chits would segregate the camps. It wasn’t an uprising they were worried about—the collars were more than enough for quelling those—it was information exchange.
“Allow me to explain why you’re all here,” the Overseer said, casting his gaze across his audience as he paced. “While it normally takes us a little longer to determine your results, I have worked extra hard to deliver them to you as swiftly as possible. Today, you will learn your fate. Some of you will be rewarded handsomely!”
The prisoners looked around. Some hopeful, others suspicious.
“The others…”
The Overseer made a slicing motion across his throat. Whatever relief the prisoners had at being within the safe confines of the Garrison walls evaporated, leaving the area deathly silent.
“I must say, you’re the first batch in a while where anyone attained Steel. The ranks to be awarded today are those of Steel, Bronze, and Porcelain. Those failing to make even Porcelain, but who we believe are suited for manual labor and logistical tasks, shall be granted the privilege of living another day.”
The Overseer stopped his pacing and faced his audience.
“The Clan has little need for dregs and dead weight. Still, most of you have little to worry about. Those who put in a good showing have nothing to fear.” The Overseer locked eyes with Vir as he said that, and Vir thought he saw a vile grin flash by the Kothi’s face.
The knot in Vir’s stomach tightened, and he dreaded what was to come. This was not going to end well. Not for him. Not for anyone.
Rationally, there was nothing to fear. Vir had put in a solid showing. A better than solid showing, in fact. He was willing to bet good money that the Steel rank was his. With Cirayus’ intervention, the Overseer wouldn’t dare attempt to kill Vir, no matter how deep his grudge ran. Were he stupid enough to try, Vir could easily return the favor and escape on his own. His cover and his mission would be blown, but at least he’d get out alive.
Yet Vir knew, deep down, that he’d never take that option. Not if it meant sacrificing Balagra, Malik, and the Kothi prisoner he still hadn’t found. Not if it meant sacrificing the Gargan farmers, merchants, blacksmiths, and fathers who had no business being here. Whose only crime was being born to a disgraced clan.
The Overseer accepted a rolled scroll of parchment from an aide and cleared his throat. “In no particular order…” he announced in a voice that clearly showed he was enjoying this, “Barid! Porcelain. A weapon for you! Vimal! No rank. We’ll use you in the kitchens. Hunar! Bronze! Well done. A weapon and armor for you. You can retrieve them when we’re done.”
As the Overseer continued calling names, Vir’s anxiety slowly abated. After fifteen names, not one had received an execution, with most receiving Porcelain, and a handful earning Bronze. As for Iron—the rank that sat in between Bronze and Steel—there were none.
“And finally, we have the shining stars of our little group,” the Overseer announced. Even now, not one among them had been slated for execution. “Balagra! Neel! Why don’t you two come on up here and join me?”
Vir looked around to find several demons just as confused as him. He exchanged glances with Balagra. What’s going on?
“That wasn’t a request. Up here. Now!” the Overseer barked, forcing Balagra and Vir to amble up onto the stage.
“Take a good look at these two. That’s right. You’re looking at the only Steel rankers in your group. In fact, they’re among only six prisoners who are at Garrison Atnu, and the others earned them through combat against Ash Beasts!”
The crowd began whispering and murmuring to one another, no doubt just as confused as Vir and Balagra were.
“What does this mean?” the Overseer asked, grinning savagely. “It means that these two now own your sorry asses. From this day forth, they will be your leaders. You will do as they say, or you will be severely punished.”
Why? Vir wondered. Why would the Overseer be doing this?
Was this standard for new batches of prisoners? Or was he doing this owing to Vir and Balagra’s stellar performance?
“Why? You must be wondering,” the Overseer continued. “Why would you need leaders when we’ve yet to even begin your training? Of course, you’re wondering. I can see it in your sorry eyes. That confusion. That pathetic weakness. Well, not for long.”
The Overseer allowed his words to hang in the air, settling like a dark cloud upon the prisoners.
“Not for long! Out here, you either toughen up, or you die. And mark my words. When we’re through with you, you will either be tough… or you will be dead. Your choice.”
Vir couldn’t bring himself to believe the Kothis would shell out resources training up prisoners, and by their chattering, the others felt similarly.
“Yes. Exciting, is it not? The chance to learn new skills! Perhaps even open your next Chakra! Fear not. You’ll have ample opportunity on your first training assignment,” the Overseer said, seemingly savoring the nervous gazes of his audience. “You will journey to a nearby city to bring back as many weapons and armor as you can get your hands on. Your leaders will be none other than these two capable souls standing beside me.”
The Kothi gestured to Vir and Balagra.
The prisoners looked relieved, and so was Vir. In fact, wasn’t this precisely what he’d wanted? By putting him in a position of authority, the Overseer had unwittingly vaulted Vir closer to his goal than he could ever have dreamed.
And if they actually let Vir lead… Well, he was confident he could rally them to his cause. Doing so under the Overseer’s thumb would be difficult, but that was a problem he could—
“Which city?” Balagra snarled, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Which city do you intend for us to raid?”
“This will be no raid,” the Overseer replied. “Merely a scavenging operation. And where else does one scavenge but Praya Parul?”
The crowd’s sense of relief vanished immediately.
“You can’t be serious,” Balagra hissed. “You would send untrained soldiers to that place?”