“And you should be following. You don’t plan to join us. Do you?”
Gunin looked up into their leader’s eyes. “Can you honestly say I will survive there? I am no warrior. I lack the durability needed to survive there.”
Gunin braced himself. No doubt Neel would do all he could to convince him otherwise. Perhaps he’d promise that Balagra could heal his wounds, or that Gunin would be useful around camp, even if he couldn’t fight. That he’d be protected.
I don’t want to be protected, like some fragile vase…
It wasn’t just shame that had compelled him to run away from home…
“I know,” Neel said, dropping a rucksack heavily beside Gunin. “You do.”
“Sorry?” Gunin asked, confident he’d misheard. “You’re saying I’ll die if I go there?”
Neel shrugged. “Difficult to say, but it is true that you lack the same prana capacity as the other demons. If you do not wish to come, I will not push you.”
“What, then?” Gunin asked, standing up and dusting off his pants. “I can’t survive alone.”
“Gunin,” Neel said, meeting his gaze. He was so young, and yet his every word and action bore such resolve… It was infectious. It was one of the several reasons Gunin had stayed away from the demon in the first place. That was the sort of attitude that got everyone killed.
“Do you believe in the cause I fight for?”
“For the liberation of your clan?” Gunin asked, gulping. “I…”
He knew fully well that Neel did not have the time to humor him like this. Neel shouldn’t have even been here in the first place. Every moment away from his people was a moment they were in grave danger.
Which was why Gunin gave the rebel an honest answer. If Neel was risking so much, just for him, it was only fair that he no longer hid behind his petty family squabbles and lies.
“I do,” Gunin said. “What my people did was… was wrong. I wish for a world where we can coexist.”
Neel nodded. “Then take this rucksack. It has enough food and water for a day or two. Circle around us and the army—they’ll follow us all the way to the Boundary. Return to our encampment and don the armor of one of the dead Kothis and hide his body. Take his place—the army will return to scout for any injured. When they find you, tail them back to Garrison Atnu.”
“You want me to become a spy.”
“I want you to gather all the information you can. On Garrison Atnu. On the prisoners in the other camps we were forbidden from communicating with. When I return—and I will return—I want to know who among them is sympathetic to our cause.”
“You ask for much,” Gunin said, even as his heart leaped at the opportunity. This was risky, yes, but it was a chance. That was better than what he currently had. A whole lot better.
Neel smiled. “Nothing outside your capabilities. Aid me now, and I will remember this later.”
As Neel readied himself to leave, a question slipped out of Gunin’s mouth before he could stop himself.
“Who are you?”
Neel locked eyes with Gunin. “One who everyone thought dead. Who has returned to undo the wrongs that plague his people. I am Vaak—of Ash.”
And with that, Neel—or Vaak, rather—disappeared, leaving Gunin alone, and with more questions than answers.
Vir stood just paces away from the Ash Boundary with the others. The incessant booms of lightning made speaking difficult, but he’d already said his piece.
When he’d announced that they were fleeing into the Ash, they’d taken it better than he’d hoped. Perhaps they realized how hopeless their chances were. Surrendering was obviously not an option. Nor was fleeing with the limited supplies they had on hand.
Not even for a moment did Vir entertain the idea that they followed him out of respect and hope that he might carry them through. No, he hadn’t earned that yet. He was the one who’d landed them in this mess, after all. And while this particular outcome worked in his favor in the long run—it got him an army, and one that was stuck with him for better or for worse—it was by no means the outcome he’d wished for.
There was real risk in what they were about to do. Many would likely perish, and this time, Vir was squarely to blame. Even if fewer died than at the hands of the Chits’ suicide mission to Praya Parul, Vir would still feel responsible.
Which was why the time for lies and deception had passed. When they stepped through, after they’d established a camp, Vir could come clean.
He’d tell them who he truly was.
Vir inhaled deeply and roared.
“Enter!”
60A NEW START
It wasn’t the howls of enemy Ash Beasts that Vir noticed first. Nor was it even the blinding crack of lightning and the deafening thunder that accompanied it.
It was the prana. The sweet, sweet sensation of power flooding into him all at once was unlike anything he’d felt outside the Ash.
Vir took a great breath and flexed his entire body, feeling it ripple with the life-giving energy.
I’ve missed this place, was Vir’s first thought upon entering the blighted realm of death. Vir considered that something might not be quite right with his mental faculties, but dismissed the thought.
Breaking out of his reverie, Vir registered the screams and agonized wails of the other demons. All but a handful had collapsed, and were writhing in agony on the ground.
Balagra, thankfully, was not one of them. He was bounding around the downed demons, treating them with his Panav healing arts.
With only one healer and almost two hundred demons, Balagra was stretched thin. By prioritizing the ones whose prana poisoning was most dire and working without even a moment of pause, the Naga was only just barely able to keep them alive.
As much as Vir wanted to help his friend, it was all he could do to stand and watch over them, ensuring no opportunistic Ash Beasts drew close. For all Vir’s power, the only one he knew how to heal was himself. His strengths lay elsewhere.
A pack of Ash Wolves broke off from the larger horde in the distance, making a beeline for the injured prisoners. Vir could almost smell their ravenous hunger as they eyed the prisoners with unbridled bloodlust.
As far as prey went, the demons couldn’t have been any better. Weak, helpless, and utterly unable to flee or fight back.
Luckily, they weren’t alone.
Vir turned to meet the creatures. He’d fought thousands of these things in the past—a dozen would hardly even register. If, of course, he wielded his true power. That was assuming he didn’t hide his abilities out of fear of discovery.
As a maelstrom of prana coalesced around Vir’s body, as it became visible to the naked eye, wreathing him like black flame, Vir knew.
There would be no going back from this. He would soon be forced to confront his demons and reveal who he truly was.
And he was fine with that. For too long, he’d hidden out of fear of precipitating events before he was ready. For fear of the hatred he might receive.
No longer.
Unleashing the full might of his unbridled power, Vir Blinked—the ability surging him fifty paces forward. Furious, deadly black prana coated his talwar, begging to be released.
Vir landed with a plume of ash as tall as a geyser.
His six Ash Wolf foes crumpled in a heap, tumbling end over end, before they finally came to rest—dead—in front of the prisoners.
In a single movement, without even breaking stride, Vir had punctured their hearts and their heads, ending them before anyone had even registered his departure. Least of all his enemies.
Vir once again took a deep breath, allowing the prana to surge within him. There was just so much of it! Vir felt so alive here.
When Cirayus had first entered the Ash, the giant had a similar reaction, and for the longest time, Vir wondered if the giant was actually crazy. It was ironic—Vir was now protecting others in the same way Cirayus had protected him when they’d first entered.