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Ashborn 453: Veil of Deception
🕑 Added 2025-07-22 17:01:55 +0000 UTCHiya shambled through the streets of Samar Patag, vision blurred, mind a mess. The roads and buildings she’d grown up with—scenery she found comforting only days before—now made her want to vomit.
This is my home, Hiya thought, tears running down her cheeks. And now I will be the one to destroy it.
“Hiya!” Ekta called. “Hiya, where are we going? I’m scared!”
Hiya didn’t stop, not even after Ekta’s pleas, instead pulling her young friend by the wrist.
How had she ended up in this situation? If she died saving others, that was one thing. Bolin had done it, hadn’t he? She’d cursed his foolish act afterward, but the fact remained. He’d given his life to save them.
But Hiya was denied even that option. The wrist shackle that vile kothi had placed on them was set to explode if they ever talked to Vaak, Janani, or anyone else. Not only would Hiya die, she’d kill those she loved and admired. She’d die a traitor to the cause. Despite all that Vaak had done for her.
Hiya wiped the tears that flowed freely from her face.
What was she to do?
She’d wracked her head for hours, but it was Ekta who came up with the idea.
Why don’t you write a letter? You can write now, can’t you?
That brilliant little Ekta… she’d grow up to be so amazing and smart, but only if Hiya kept them both alive.
And so, that was exactly what Hiya had done. She’d played along with Annas’ vile plan. She’d moved the straw and the oil in secret, helping what she now knew were Aindri Warriors position the barrels in all the wrong places.
Meanwhile, she’d diligently noted them all down. She’d laid bare the entire plan, and hopefully recorded the locations accurately. It was only recently that she’d gotten any good at writing after all, and her scribbly words looked pathetic even to her eyes. She could only hope Greesha or Janani would understand the message.
She could only hope they’d see it in time to act. A hope that was extinguished almost before it had lit.
“It’s time,” a scruffy boy younger than Hiya said, rushing up to her. “We’re to light the fires.”
He darted off before Hiya could even reply, no doubt informing the other kids the Chits had pressed into their service.
With the heaviest of hearts, Hiya wiped away the fresh tears that threatened to stream down her cheeks and set her face. This was it. Her last stand. She might’ve been forced to aid the Chits in preparing the fires, but she would die before she lit them.
“Listen to me,” Hiya said, holding Ekta’s shoulders. “Run to the safe house. You remember the one, right?”
“We used to take turns pretending we were the Akh Nara there,” Ekta said, wide-eyed.
Hiya nodded. “That’s the one.”
“Okay! Let’s go!”
Hiya hesitated, and Ekta’s face fell.
“You’re not coming?”
“I’m sorry, Ekta. I can’t let them start the fire. Even if it’s just one. It’s stupid, I know. But I have to try.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” Ekta said.
Hiya was about to rebuke her—to tell her it was far too dangerous for a child her age—but when she saw the fire in the young girl’s eyes, she knew it’d be futile. If she sent her away now, Ekta would simply turn around and follow her anyway.
“Fine,” Hiya sighed. “But stay behind me.”
Truthfully, there wasn’t much she could do, other than to hide the oil pots they’d stored near the straw. Luckily, she knew most of the locations around the city, and most were in abandoned buildings, unguarded—Annas didn’t seem to have have nearly enough demons inside the city to guard them all. That was why he was using them in the first place, wasn’t it?
Hiya ducked into the nearest shack, and froze.
They weren’t alone. Inside were a group of four boys. Older boys.
Boys Hiya instantly recognized. Dread filled her veins.
“What are you doing?” Ekta asked, voice trembling.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Svar replied, whirling to face her, face full of hatred. “I’m stopping the damned Chits, that’s what. Now, are you going to stand there like a chal? Or will you help me destroy these piles before the monkeys have a chance to light them?”
— —
“You do not want to do this, old man,” Cirayus called out to the Aindri Raja, making Vir wonder just how old this mounted Warrior they faced truly was.
“Oho?” came Raja Jagath’s deep, knowing voice. Though clearly old, there was a strength there that Vir dared not ignore.
Like most Rajas, Jagath had opened all of his Chakras long ago. More worryingly, he’d had centuries to master their use in combat, and the Aindri were among the most combative of the clans, even if they preferred to keep to themselves.
“And why wouldn’t I?” Jagath asked. “Why wouldn’t I rectify the injustice the Garga have wrought upon the realm, hmm? Why not aid the Chitran in their noble plight?”
Cirayus scoffed. “Noble? You’re a terrible liar, Jagath.”
Vir largely ignored Jagath, instead taking the opportunity to survey his enemy. While most would pass the Raja off as a red demon of average stature, his armor was anything but ordinary. Comprised primarily of fur, the entire thing was one suit, made of dozens of different hides, all woven together.
The hides varied in texture and thickness, but they all had one trait in common—they were all black.
Specifically, the jet-black that was found only on Ash Beasts.
The message was clear. Jagath had delved into the Ashen Realm, and unlike Vir who had Saunak’s Artifact and Ashani, the Aindri Raja had nothing to aid his return. He’d gone in blind.
How long had he spent in that blighted land? How many battles must he have fought?
His prana signature matched—far stronger than even Vir’s Asuras, it rivaled Cirayus’ before he’d acclimatized to the Mahādi Realm. It would have to, for Jagath to have survived that place. From his signature alone, Vir could deduce how far into the Ash Jagath had ventured, and while it couldn’t compare to Vir’s own, the density meant Jagath hadn’t stayed near the periphery of the Ash either.
Like Jagath, his vaguely resembled a more elegant, lithe Ash’va, and though the beast was old, and not of a variety Vir had seen before, the vigorous Ash prana flowing in its veins clearly proved it was an Ash Beast.
Vir suspected many of Jagath’s enemies fell prey to the beast, assuming it was nothing more than a simple mount.
“Since when have you and your people cared for the other clans, Jagath?” Cirayus asked, growing exasperated. “I find it difficult to believe you’ve had a sudden change of heart. No, Annas must have paid you to come out here. Handsomely, at that. ‘Tis the only reason that explains your presence here. My only question is what? What in the realm could that monkey have offered you?”
“Some things, Cirayus,” Jagath said, suddenly sounding weary, “are worth any price. Not that you would understand, what with Bairan prosperity. What do you know of the troubles we face? Have you ever bothered to come north? To live among us? To experience life through our eyes?”
Vir scanned the battlefield. By occupying Jagath’s attention, he’d succeeded in shifting the tide of the battle once more. His Asuras reaved through the enemy’s ranks.
We just need to stall him, Vir thought. If they stalled long enough, then maybe they wouldn’t even need to fight. As powerful as Jagath undoubtedly was, he couldn’t take on the combined might of Vir, Cirayus, and the Asura army.
And yet, Vir couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was off. Jagath seemed content to just talk, exactly as though he himself were stalling. Yet wouldn’t the Raja know that he’d be at a disadvantage the longer this went on? Vir refused to believe someone of his experience would make such a mistake. To say nothing of his troops. Now that Vir and Cirayus occupied the Raja’s attention, the tide of battle had once again shifted decisively in the Asura’s favor.
Despite this, Vir couldn’t see any other angle the Raja might play. Maybe he’d been paid to show up and fight Vir? Maybe he’d flee with his forces once routed?
“I suppose there is nothing left to say, then,” Cirayus said, brandishing Sikandar. “Never knew you to be one for discussion, anyway. We fight.”
Jagath smiled. “We fight. Though, I wonder if you can kill me so thoughtlessly?”
Vir’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I am a Raja of the Aindri. You’ve already killed one Raja, have you not? That has already riled the Chitran against you, though the realm might eventually come to accept it. Revenge is well known to us demons, after all. But I? Kill me, and what will the other Rajas think? They will begin to wonder if their heads might be on the chopping block. They might bar you from those Ultimate Arts you so covet. And I can assure you, you will never have the Aindri’s, should you slay me here. So, I ask again. Can you afford to kill me?”
Vir’s heart beat faster, and he realized the Raja had a point. Still, that was of no consequence. In fact, it worked to Vir’s benefit, since he didn’t plan on fighting the Raja at all.
“Akh Nara, I bring dire news,” a voice suddenly called from the shadows.
“Ekat’Ma? Now?” Vir hissed. “Can it wait?”
“Annas has infiltrated the city. Samar Patag burns.”
Vir’s blood ran cold.
We’ve been duped.
