Maiya tapped her chin, then bolted to the stairs and up to the second floor, taking the only light source in the room with her.
Vir didn’t mind the darkness. Prana Vision let him make out most of the objects, laden with a smattering of various affinities as they were. It was strange—at some point he’d grown used to his augmented vision, though any time he stepped back and took in the myriad of new colors, it always awed him. He’d never understood why only he had Prana Vision, or anything even remotely close to it. Unlike the flashier Dance of the Shadow Demon that Shardul had showed off, it was a subtle power that gave him an edge in a variety of areas.
Vir gave Maiya a moment, allowing himself to sink into the nostalgia of the home. Like the temple, some of his best memories were at this house—Aliscia’s cooking, loudmouthed Rudvik arguing against Apramor, the nights he and Maiya had burned candles staying up late into the night, trading stories—sneaking down at an ungodly hour to nab a cracker from the kitchen.
All in the past, now. This home would never know those times again. A part of Vir died when he realized that.
“V-Vir?” Maiya called out from upstairs. “Can you come up here?”
With heavy steps, he made his way up to her bedroom, though it was hardly recognizable. Like the rest of the house, all the furniture that could be moved had been looted, leaving behind a bare, empty room. They’d even torn apart Maiya’s pink wall coverings.
The girl sat cross-legged on the floor, turning over a pitch-black envelope with a red wax seal. “They didn’t do a great job searching,” she said. “Didn’t even look under the creaky floorboard.”
“What’s it say?” Vir asked.
“Dunno. Haven’t opened it yet.”
She flipped it over, and Vir made out Aliscia’s immaculate handwriting: To Mai, it said. “It’s from my parents.”
She handed the envelope to Vir. “You read it.”
“Uh, you sure? It looks like they meant it for you.”
“I’m sure. I… Yeah. I’m sure.”
Vir shrugged and popped the seal, carefully retrieving the single piece of paper within and unfolding it reverently.
The message wasn’t long—enough to fit on a single side and written in perfect cursive.
Vir cleared his throat and began his recitation.
To Maiya, our most beloved star… We still remember the day you came into this world, kicking and screaming. We always knew you would grow up to be a rambunctious young woman. If only we knew just how correct we would be! You caused us no end of headaches… and yet, we would not trade you for the world. You may hate us for raising you in ‘a backwater village,’ but, Maiya, you were—you are—our proudest achievement. You will always be, even long after we have left this world.
Knowing you, Vir must be right there by your side, listening to you read this letter. You were always inseparable, after all. Perhaps he is the one reading? Well? Are we correct?
Hello, Vir! It is good to see you. Truly.
Prana scorned. Ashborn. You have suffered under many names. But to us, you are the son we never had, and so this message is for you as well.
Do not be sad for us. Read this letter and find strength. Not sorrow.
Support each other, for you are precious. More precious than you know.
When Fate’s whims separate you two and carry you each to distant realms, never forget that. Never forget the bond you share.
Make it unbreakable, and you will not bend. Make it supple, and you will not shatter. In each other, find your strength, find your home, and find yourselves.
Grow strong.
This is our only wish. Do not search for us. Do not grieve us. Remember us in your memories, both of you. While we may be gone from this world, we live on in your memories.
And thus, we are immortal.
With Dearest Love,
Mom and dad
The ransacked home’s deathly silence was broken—not by wails or screams—but quiet sobbing.
57BREAKERS OF THE CHAIN
Hours later, the rain still hadn’t abated. Maiya lay in Vir’s arms the whole time, face pale and eyes unfocused. They’d both shed every tear they had long ago, leaving them dried up and empty on the inside.
“I think…” Maiya said, breaking the long silence. She spoke with a cold, hard voice that shocked Vir. “I think I finally get what you said before. About not being strong. I thought I understood when Rudvik passed. That strength was important. But I didn’t. Not truly. Now… Now, I do. To be weak is to be trampled over. This is a cruel world, Vir.”
She turned to stare Vir in the eye. Magic Lamp cast heavy shadows upon her face, and together with her smeared makeup, made her look like a Child of Ash.
“I hate this, Vir. This feeling of being helpless. I keep thinking, ‘If I’d only warned Dad. If I hadn’t come with you…’ But that’s all a lie, and I know it. There was nothing I could’ve done. Nothing. I was inconsequential. My parents would’ve sacrificed themselves for us, no matter what… But with power? If I had magic? I could’ve fought off the knights. Or at least escaped with my parents, I dunno. I could’ve done something, Vir!”
Vir couldn’t find the words to reply, and silence settled upon them again.
“What will you do now?” Vir asked at last. He genuinely wanted to know… Whatever path she chose, he’d support her. If she asked him to come with her to Daha so she could take revenge against those knights, he’d do it.
“I can’t let it end like this,” Maiya said, looking around. “I won’t let them get away with this. I’ll obtain power. The likes of which this realm has never seen. I’ll become the strongest mejai in this whole grakking world. And then? Then I’m gonna make the people who did this to my parents pay. Every. Single. One. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when. But I will. I swear this to you on my parents’ names. Someone will pay for this.”
Her words sent shivers down Vir’s spine. He understood at that moment that these were not empty threats. Maiya rarely ever spoke like this, and when she did, Yuma help whoever stood in her way.
Truthfully, he’d felt similarly when Rudvik had died. If only they hadn’t ratted him out. If they’d treated him like one of their own. But now? Things had changed. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t find it in him to be angry at the villagers.
“They’re just villagers. It’s easy to blame them, but what will getting back at Akros really accomplish? They’re byproducts of their times, and we were the same not even a year ago. Yes, they’re at fault, but they aren’t our true enemy. Our real enemy is bigger. Much bigger.”
“Hiranya,” Maiya whispered.
Vir nodded. “The country who sent those knights after us. The royal priest out to hunt Ashborn. These are the people who must be stopped.”
Easier said than done. Vir had spent long hours thinking about what he could do to strike back at those who’d wronged them. But what could he do? He was one boy, against an entire kingdom. Forget coming up with a plan, merely considering striking against Hiranya was stupidity. They were hunting him—they’d be overjoyed if he exposed himself and served himself up on a platter.
“I will destroy them,” Maiya said, seething.
Vir had no doubt she’d try. But at what cost? Her life? And even if she survived, would she still be herself at the end of that path?