Ashborn Primordial

Chapter Ashborn 395: The Plan

There was no silencing this madness, no quieting this crowd, and so Vir didn’t deign to try. He stood, unmoving, watching over those who chanted for Ashani. For their goddess… And for him.

For the Automaton from the Age of Gods was not the only one these people deified.

No, Vir was as much a god to them as Ashani was. The Akh Nara. The being who could never truly die. The Reincarnator who retained the memories of his past life. A being greater than mortals. Immortal, in the most profound sense.

The One Who Makes Whole.

It was not a grand stage. Not a stadium of forty-thousand. Yet, Vir would not trade this audience for the world. For they were more precious to him than all the others in the realm combined.

As strong as Vir and Ashani were—some of the strongest beings who walked the realm—both Vir and Ashani were powerless to convince this audience otherwise. It was only minutes later, when the chants finally ceased, giving way to sobs of joy, that Vir found the courage to speak again.

“It is perhaps pointless to say this, but Ashani would consider it a personal favor if you did not revere her as a deity, but rather a friend. She wishes to walk among us mortals. To experience life as we do, and it if my sincere hope that you will respect her wishes.”

Vir heard ‘Yes’, ‘of course‘, and ‘as the goddess wills!’ripple through the crowd. He gave Ashani a self-deprecating smile, which she returned with a thankful nod.

“I would ask that you afford me the same courtesy,” Vir said with a wry smile, “But I fear that such a feat would be beyond even Adinat himself!”

“Now, allow me to brief you on the plan. Until now, you have operated in the dark, but you are my kin. You are the Warriors who will fight and bleed for this cause. Some may question my informing you. Some may call it shortsighted, and an unnecessary risk. I say they are wrong. You deserve to know, for how can I entrust the future of our clan to the blind? I trust you with this information, assured that you will keep it near and dear to your hearts. I pray to all Yuma and Badrak, to Adinat and yes, even Janak, that no harm will befall you during this rebellion. Yet Fate works in mysterious ways, as we all know too well. Should the worst befall you, should you be captured and interrogated…”

Vir’s demons waited with bated breath, as silent as death to hear his next words.

“I wish for you to prioritize your own lives. We all know the atrocities the Chits happily commit in the name of justice. Hear me now, you rebels! Hear me now, my kin! Do not give them the satisfaction of breaking you. Do not let them control you. Say only enough to spare yourselves. I wish to live, and I want you to survive. I want to look back on the day of our freedom, decades and centuries from now, with all of you. With joy, not sorrow. With pride. Never shame.”

The room was silent, as each demon internalized both the danger of what they were about to attempt, and the heavy responsibility that they would shoulder.

“This will not be easy,” Vir said. “Yes, we boast a goddess on our side, but even so, the coming days will test every one of you. They will measure your metal, and force you to push well past the limits of what you thought possible.”

A heavy blanket settled upon the crowd, lending an intangible weight to the silence.

“This is good,” Vir said, visibly surprising them.

“Yes. It is good,” he repeated. “Because you will all grow from it. You will be forged. Tempered by the heat of duress. And you will emerge changed. Forever strengthened by the experience. By the loss and the ardor, emerging stronger than you knew possible.”

It was as if every Gargan held their breath. From the children to the elderly. From the weak to the strong, they hung on his every word.

“For, brothers and sisters, we are better than we know, if only we can be made to see it. And I assure you, once the proud lion of Garga flies in Samar Paga, you will have seen it. You will have tasted it. Mark my words, brothers and sisters, for as long as you live, you will never settle again.”

The crowd chanted a single hoot.

Ever mindful, these Gargans, Vir thought with pride.

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“And so, I will now tell you of our plan in full,” he said, gesturing to the Gate that bathed the small room in the colors of war and blood. “As you just saw, our friend has the ability to create Ash Gates. With my help, we can keep them stable. Permanently. Gone are the days of Gates collapsing back into unstable Tears. We can now rely on them for transit and trade. For peace… And for War.”

Several demons gasped while others whispered furiously.

“Yes, it is true,” Vir said, silencing the crowd once more. “I intend to create dozens of these Gates throughout the cities. In each of the caverns you have dug with your blood, sweat, and tears. These very rooms,” Vir spread his arms wide, “will enable our rebellion. For, you see, the Chits are foolish! The kothis expect us to assault Samar Patag’s gates! They expect us to soar down from the sky in our airships!”

A round of laughs passed through the chamber, and Vir laughed with them.

“Yes! The enemy will look to the sky when they ought to be chasing their tails. They will look out past their walls, at the army my people will assemble. Yet, they will be fooled! Our Warriors, tempered in the depths of the Ash, will already have infiltrated the city by then. What’s more! All civilians shall evacuate via Gate to a Bairan stronghold in the days and hours before the rebellion, starting with mothers and their children. In this way, we shall minimize the innocent lives lost. We will ensure every Gargan man, woman, and child will live to witness the rise of the Garga. That they will live to see the transformation of the Demon Realm. A Realm greater and more prosperous than Demonkind has ever seen!”

Vir knew shouting was reckless. He knew he shouldn’t. It didn’t befit him as a leader of people. And yet, he knew, in the depths of his soul, that it was right. He knew these people needed to see his confidence. They needed to feel it in their heart of hearts. To know, deep down, that their efforts would be rewarded. That their families would live to witness the light of a brighter dawn.

For Chitran patrols were easily ended. The roiling spark of rebellion… was not.

The cheers abated, and the clapping stilled, and Vir spoke again.

“My forces will aid you in the construction of these tunnels. They will ease your burden, but they are inexperienced. They will look to you for guidance and leadership. Show them the way. Watch over them as they dig new chambers throughout the city. Teach them how to hide from our oppressors, and they will reward you with the foundation of our freedom. It is they who will spill their blood in the streets on the day of our uprising. It is they who will die for our cause. But it is you who will allow us to get there. Can I count on you, my brothers? My sisters?”

Roars and cheers were his reply, and Vir knew they would give their lives for the cause. Every last one. Even the children.

It was his duty to ensure they didn’t.

At one time, that knowledge would have crushed Vir. It would’ve made him weak in the knees. Would’ve tempted him to foist the burden to Cirayus.

Not today. Not here. Vir had grown. He had fallen. He’d been forced to pick himself back up. Over and over again. From Rudvik to Tia to the years in the Ash to now… He’d learned.

Just as the demons before him were about to learn.

He had been forged in the fires of Ash. There was no crucible in this world that burned hotter. No forge more potent.

Vir would ensure they stayed safe. He gave his word, and it may as well have been of seric steel, such was its strength.

“Now,” Vir said, fighting back the torrent of emotion that had overcome him. “Someone show me this other chamber you’ve dug. I have a Gate to create.”

Vir had never encountered a group less willing to disband than the one before him. In the end, he had to go around, hugging and grasping arms with every demon present, even patting the heads of every child. He consoled the parents and assured them of the brighter days ahead.

Not that Vir minded the task—on the contrary, giving hope to those who had none was the highlight of his day. Just that he hated downplaying the risks. He had to look strong and infallible when he knew he was anything but.

Especially when talking to the rebels who would be fighting. Many would lose their lives fighting for him, and yet Vir had to convince them to quell their anger until the time was right, assuring them they would live to see a brighter day.

In the end, only three of the audience remained. Three that Vir hadn’t yet approached.

It was, unsurprisingly, Janani, accompanied by Ekta, and Hiya, who clung onto the hem of her torn cloak like a lifeline, gazing at Vir with wide eyes of fear and uncertainty.

Vir approached them slowly, squatting down. “You two would make the best spies, you know? So sneaky.”

Their vice grip on Janani’s robe relaxed just a bit. Vir took that as an opportunity to ruffle their hair.

He stood up, meeting Janani’s probing gaze.

“Janani. It has been a while.”

“Liar,” Janani whispered, though Vir detected no malice in her voice. “You never said you were the Akh Nara.”

“And yet, I recall you implying I might’ve been.”

“That’s different!” Janani said, averting her eyes.

Vir chuckled. “I apologize for hiding the truth, though I’ve no doubt that someone as intelligent as you can surely understand why.”

Janani sighed. “I suppose…”

“Now, how about you show me to your other chamber,” Vir said, smiling gently. “We have another Gate to construct, after all.”@@novelbin@@

The fear in Janani’s eyes returned. It was a subtle thing, but Vir’s heart fell nonetheless. Cirayus’ words echoed in his head.

This is a burden you will have to accept, lad. It is lonely at the top.

How true his words were. These days, he felt as though only Maiya truly understood what he went to. How did a ruler commiserate his woes with those he ruled? It was impossible. As impossible as oil mixing with water. And so, more often than not, leadership became a solitary experience. To be born on the ruler’s shoulders alone.

How terrible a curse it was. For all his life, Vir had sought but one thing. To belong. To feel included. Loved. By his people. By this family.

He knew it was a silly thing. He had Cirayus. He had Maiya. Surely, that ought to have been enough? And yet, he envied the ordinary man. The powerless demon. He wished to have dozens of friends of similar station. Hundreds and thousands who understood his plight.

It would never be.

It was lonely at the top, and while Vir had always known, for the first time, he began to understand.

“As you wish, my lord,” Janani said, and Vir knew then that their relationship would never be the same. Never again a relationship of equals, but rather, one of a subject… and her God.