Ashborn Primordial

Chapter Ashborn 378: Depths of Revelation (Two) (Maiya)

‘Why?’

Maiya looked at the single word as she collected her thoughts. Why indeed? What she asked of Bheem was no small favor. To force him to revisit the pain of his childhood… To be reminded of his elder brother, the Blessed Chosen. The man she’d killed.

Truthfully, Maiya had put off this discussion for far too long. She’d convinced herself there were higher priorities. That the meeting between the revolutionaries was more important. That this was a personal matter—one that could be pushed aside.

In reality, Maiya doubted there was anything more important.

“Bheem, on that fateful day, your brother told us that ‘we are but pawns on a celestial stage.’ That there is a force out there that seeks to control Fate. Janak knows of them. And I feel he might be the only one who can tell me more. And I must know more. If I’m to be controlled by some cosmic entity, I must learn all I can. For Ira, for our plan. And… For myself, if nothing else.”

Maiya already had a mountain of worries. The last thing she needed was the knowledge that some shadowy entity was operating behind the scenes, moving to thwart events. Who were they? What was their goal? And could they be defied?

These were but a few of the questions Maiya was hoping to have answered.

“It all sounds a bit far-fetched to me,” Yamal said. “What does it even mean to control Fate? Are we to believe that our every action is predetermined? That we are but puppets acting out a play?”

Maiya shook her head. “I don’t know, Yamal. The very idea feels revolting, doesn’t it? It feels impossible. And yet… I don’t think the Blessed Chosen would have lied to me. He wanted me to know. Bheem,” she said, turning to the giant. “Will you help me?”

He scribbled something on a note and slid it over.

“I will. But you may not like what you find.”

“I understand,” Maiya said. “Even so, every day, I live with the fear of not knowing. Every day, I wonder if my actions are for naught, or if some great evil is about to devastate the land. Nothing is worse than fumbling around in the dark. Take me to him and let us uncover the answers for ourselves.”

Ksaia was an arduous journey for most, requiring wealth, time, risk, and resources, and could not be undertaken without months of careful planning.

For Maiya, distance had long ago ceased to be a barrier. In just a few hours, she was ripping over the Kin’jal countryside atop Frumpy, accompanied by Bheem, two additional Acira, and a half-dozen elite handmaidens.

Were Maiya to have it her way, she’d have set out alone, but alas, neither Ira nor Yamal or Bheem would allow it. She was ‘too important to go gallivanting alone’, it seemed. Maiya sometimes wondered if this was how it would be for the rest of her life… Surrounded by bodyguards and attendants. Deprived of any semblance of true privacy.

Privacy… and Freedom.

Maiya felt herself palming the communications orb nestled deep inside her robes. An orb that had remained inactive as of late. The orbs did not function in the Ash, and seeing how Vir spent the bulk of his time there, it had been quite some time since they last spoke.

Her chest throbbed, and she missed Vir dearly. How was faring? Had he made any progress recruiting more demons? He’d been especially worried about that when they’d last spoken. And… Did Vir find himself similarly shackled by the weight of responsibility?

These days, Maiya felt Vir was the only one in the world who truly understood her. Not just her wants and her desires, but all the consequences of her high station. Yes, Ira bore more responsibility than Maiya, but there was still a gap between them. Though friends, she had her own interests, and as long as Maiya was Ira’s subordinate, that gap would never fully close.

Was it coincidence or cosmic irony that Vir shared an almost identical situation? Or perhaps Fate… Maiya had to wonder if it was truly was that all-powerful force that landed them in such similar positions. Both held high status within their respective societies. Both were actively planning coups that would reshape the realm. And both of them had arrived where they were via similar paths. Starting with little, losing what they had, and rebuilding it all from the ground up.

The weather turned from chilly to frigid, and Maiya activated her heating orbs, passing a few to Bheem behind her.

The journey would not take long—Maiya couldn’t be away from her duties to Ira for very long—but she doubted it would be a drawn-out affair. The ancient ruins were buried deep within the sewers, and Bheem knew the route by heart.

Soon. In just a scant few hours, Maiya might very well have the answers she’d stressed over for so long. The only question was—would that help? Or would it hurt, as Yamal feared? Either way, her life was about to be changed forever.

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The journey into the depths of Ksaia’s sewers was just as horrid as Maiya had imagined. The smells alone nearly made her retch, and though she mustered every ounce of training and grit to hide it, she couldn’t understand how a pair of brothers would live down here. For months on end.

The squalor, the lack of hygiene… It was a miracle neither died to some disease or another. For the brothers who had no access to healing, any small ailment could easily have been their last.

Down they went, deeper and deeper, in a land of perpetual darkness, illuminated only by the Magic Lamp orbs they carried. How many years had it been since someone was down this way? Had Bheem and his brother been the last to set foot here?

The stench of the sewers finally gave way to older, more sanitary passages, and Maiya immediately knew they were of Imperium Construction. Their condition was markedly superior, and there was a certain… presence… about them she couldn’t quite place. A sense of grandeur, despite the simple arches and smooth, bare walls.

And then they arrived. At the lost city. At what was possibly the most majestic sight Maiya had ever witnessed.

Forgotten to the world and dormant as it was, it still took her breath away. Nestled within a cavern of impossible size—so vast, Maiya wondered if it even had a ceiling—beautiful streets flowed in every direction, and there was far too much for her meager orb to illuminate. Ruins of squat homes and tall spires came into view. Their purpose, Maiya couldn’t fathom. People had lived here, once. Millennia ago. Gods had lived here. Was this place always underground? Or had it been at the surface, before the Fall?

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Most would feel afraid, walking through the tomb of their ancestors. Maiya only felt wonder. She thought she finally understood what Vir had felt when he ventured into Valaka Amara and Mahādi. Even after so long, the city was still beautiful. A reminder of the vast heights the Prime Imperium had once reached.

Heights that could one day be reached again, Maiya thought with growing excitement.

And then, something happened she could never have expected. Though she’d seen the lights in the Blessed Chosen’s memories—though she’d seen the city flicker to life—watching and experiencing were so incomparably different, they may as well have shared nothing in common.

What she’d seen in the memory was nothing more than a pale imitation. As the lights multiplied, as the very roads themselves glowed with blue-white light, Maiya was transported to another age.

So this is what it would have felt like to live here.

The dazzling display of lights made Maiya’s head spin, which was why she was just a moment late in noticing the arc of pure prana that lanced for her heart.

Only honed instinct, refined through hundreds of fights, saved Maiya’s life.

Jerking her body at the last moment, the prana arc punched through her cuirass from the shoulder down to the waist, nearly splitting it in two.

“Who goes there?” Maiya shouted, deploying her arsenal of magic orbs. Her gear was imbued with the triad of Blunt Force, Piercing, and Slashing protection, as well as defense against some of the more deadly elemental magic such as Fire, Lightning, and Wind.

Overkill for most situations. Entirely useless against the prana that hit her.

“It’s Ash prana!” Maiya shouted. “Avoid at all cost. Your orbs will not protect—urgh!”

Maiya let out a pained yelp as a bolt of prana penetrated her shoulder, breaking it.

More arcs lanced out, spearing her foot, her hand, her thighs.

Losing the strength to stand, Maiya crumpled to the ground.

It had all been so swift. So sudden. She never even had a chance to defend. Her handmaidens scrambled, surrounding her, protecting her with their own bodies.

But the city had deemed her an enemy. Such actions would not stop it. Prana blasts surged from the road itself, penetrating into Maiya’s core.

Desperately, she clung onto consciousness… Until someone shouted, and it all ceased abruptly.

It was not a shout she’d ever heard. Turning her head, she was Bheem, standing over her, neck craned to the depths of the dark cavern above.

Again, he roared, his plea emerging from his throat as a garbled noise.

“Milady, are you well?” a handmaiden said, kneeling beside Maiya and pressing a Mend Flesh healing orb against her skin. Maiya felt the orb go to work, repairing the seared organs and tissue within her body.

“I will be,” Maiya wheezed. “Thank you.”

Another handmaiden joined in moments later, tending to her legs, followed by a third, who healed her arms. Less than a minute later, the damage had been undone, though Maiya feared she’d feel the lingering aftereffects for days.

Maiya rose unsteadily to her feet… And nearly fell when a being of pure light materialized not ten paces away, coalescing into the shape of a weathered old man with a white beard that flowed nearly to his knees. He floated just above the ground, and his white cape billowed behind him, as if buffeted by an unfelt wind.

“Bheem, child,” the man said in a voice as old as time. “Why do you protect her so?”

Bheem shook his head, clasping his heart, then pointing to Maiya.

Unsure what he was trying to communicate, Maiya nonetheless bowed her head and fell to one knee. “Lord Janak. It is an honor to finally—”

“Agent of our enemy. Begone from this place, afore you corrupt the threads of Fate I have so long fought to protect.”

“Fate…” Maiya croaked in a voice as broken as shattered glass. The being before her was a god. A living god, and one of the greatest among them. A being of literal legend and myth. With every second that passed, she feared she might be struck down. Killed before she knew what hit her. How was she to speak to such a being? How was she to address him?

With the utmost respect, even if he hates me. Mustering her courage, she forced through her fear and spoke.

“I beg of you, Lord Janak. Please tell me. Who… Who am I?”

“Our enemy.”

“No!” Maiya said, lifting her head slightly, daring to gaze upon the god’s beautiful visage. “I swear to you, I am not! I merely wish to learn. I’ve nothing but awe and respect for your people!”

“Your very existence threatens the future of this realm.”

“Tell me why!” Maiya cried, growing bolder. “Please! For so long, I have lived without knowing. Every day, I wonder if my actions have meaning. I wonder if I am doomed to be nothing but a puppet for these beings who control Fate. Who are they? What do they want?”

“Poor child,” Janak said. “You truly know nothing. Just as the Fateweavers wish, I suppose.”

Maiya finally mustered the courage to look up at Janak’s face and found herself lost in his bottomless azure eyes. Each as beautiful as a living gem. Each an ocean containing the wisdom of hundreds of millennia.

“Then tell me. I beg you. What is their goal?”

Janak’s eyes unfocused, and he looked off into the distance. “The threads of Fate change, even now. But perhaps… Perhaps they did not expect this. Attack Vector… Possible. Improbable. Several paths diverge… I see….”

Baffled, Maiya remained quiet as the god rambled. When he turned back to Maiya, and his face was set with determination. “In short, the complete destruction of the Prime Imperium.”

Maiya’s brows knit together. “But the Imperium is long dead...”

“The Imperium is dead. Our progeny is not.”

“Progeny…” Maiya repeated, eyes growing wide in horror. “You mean… You can’t mean…”

“The total annihilation of all life in the universe. And they have nearly accomplished it.”

Maiya’s face lost all of its color. “Wh-what do you mean? How?”

Janak looked into the distance again, eyes unfocusing. What was he seeing? What futures was he predicting?

“The threads of Fate shift at all times with every action,” Janak said. “Every spoken word, every choice made alters the tapestry for everyone else, in ways nigh-impossible to know. As an Origin Anchor, all who encounter me alter the fabric drastically. I must weigh my every response against the ramifications… Know that divulging the wrong information to you here may very well doom the realms forever.”

“You’re… Fighting, aren’t you?” Maiya asked softly. “Fighting for the future of this realm.”

It was just a few sentences, and yet, Maiya had learned more than she had in her whole life. The ramifications were… incomprehensible.

Janak’s eyes fell, dimming slightly. “Fighting to undo the wrongs my original wrought. For millennia. Yes. The end. It is near, now. The threads grow sparse. The light of the cosmos dark.”

“It’s the Ash,” Maiya said softly. “Isn’t it?”

Janak nodded. “The Ashen Realm. The ever-encroaching boundary of the blight that mars this world. Soon the fabric of reality will rip, weakened by millennia of the Ash’s usurpation of prana. You will know the end has come when the Tears manifest. Reality will collapse in on itself. All will be devoured by chaos and darkness.”

“What can be done?” Maiya whispered. “Does anything we do even matter? Are we doomed to remain actors on a stage, playing out a script?”

“For others? No. Their eyes are not all seeing.”

“And… And for me?” Maiya whispered, having already guessed the terrible truth.

Janak’s hard expression softened, and Maiya swore that, for the briefest instant, she saw pity flash across his face. “There is but one chance.”

He hesitated, looking off into the distance again.

“What? What is it?” Maiya asked, hope blossoming in her chest. “Please! Tell me.”

Lines of worry creased Janak’s face as he scowled. “The wrong words, poorly chosen…”

“Please!” Maiya said, louder this time. “I can help. I need to know!”

Janak’s expression grew frantic, his eyes darting every which way as his expression warped into a mask of horror.

When he spoke, it was through gritted teeth. “Stay by his side. Protect him. Even at the cost of your own life.”

“What do you—”

“I can say no more. Already, the tapestry shifts in ways I cannot predict. I fear I have already said too much. Begone!”

Before Maiya could raise a voice in objection, her surroundings shifted. The city was gone. She found herself back in the tunnels, along with Bheem and the others.

The meeting was over…. And Maiya was left confused and afraid. She wished she’d never come down to this awful place. Wished she’d never learned what was in store for them…

Tears streaked silently down her cheeks. Janak—Lord Janak, among the highest and greatest beings of the greatest civilization to walk the realm… Had just prophesied their doom.

Vir… I need to tell Vir!