Ashborn Primordial

Chapter 234: Ghosts of the Past (Cirayus)

Cirayus found himself amid pandemonium. Fires raged. Buildings burned, and demons screamed.

Some fled from their homes, on fire. Others knelt beside loved ones, mourning. The sky was dyed in hues of blood, as if mirroring the terrible destruction.

Cirayus knew this place. He knew it so well, he could even place the neighborhood and name the streets.

This was Samar Patag. Gargas primary stronghold. Its capital city.

And it was in flames.

The castle loomed in the distance, blackened and bent, and a dozen demons hung on ropes fifty paces high. Their corpses swayed. Sometimes bouncing off the side of the keeps tall tower. Sometimes threatening to catch the flames of the burning building that suspended them.

A flag flapped nearby. Fire red, with the black outline of a monkeys face in the center. The flag of the Chitran.

Beneath it, on the dirt, was what was remained of the Gargan golden bull. It was barely even recognizable, having mostly burned to ash.

The more Cirayus took in, the more his confusion deepened. He was witnessing the sacking of Samar Patag when the Chitrans attacked it on that fateful day sixteen years ago.

Except that was impossible. Cirayus had never been there at the time. Hed been fleeing into the Ashen Realm with the newborn Vir. He couldnt have been reliving his memory, for these memories simply did not exist within his mind.

Unless

Cirayus thought back to the Ink of Clarity at Saunaks tower. It was the only device hed ever come across that allowed one to glimpse the past. Or the future, if Saunak was to be believed.

Could this be something similar, only greater in scale? Though, if so, why? To what end? And how?

Lad! Vir, can you hear me? Cirayus yelled. Right now, the reason mattered not. Finding the boy came before all else. They could ruminate all they wantedonce they were free. He only wished he wasnt unarmed. He longed for Sikandars reassuring weight.

Cirayus crouched and lunged and nearly toppled over when Balancer of Scales lessened his weight far less than anticipated.

His first thought was that the ability had been compromised, but while the Ultimate Tattoo used a startling amount of prana, it was one of the lucky Ultimates whose performance degraded commensurate with the level of prana in the surroundings.

The ability hadnt faileditd simply degraded, matching the prana level of the barren Samar Patag.

Trying again met with the same results. As hed feared, it wasnt only Balancer of Scales. Giants Hide, Giants Grace, and the Gargan Lionheart and Braveheart tattoos had similarly degraded.

Gotten too used to the Ash, Cirayus grumbled. But if the prana was commensurate to Samar Patag, did that mean he was really there? It was either the worlds finest illusion, or there was something more to this than Cirayus knew.

Cirayus knew of no force in all the realms that could achieve such a thing. It was impossible. It should have been impossible.

Lad! Answer me! Cirayus hollered, stepping through the rubble, but it was of no use. Vir never answered, and Cirayus felt panic surge through his body, but he forced it down with the Foundation Chakra. Still, his fear was founded in more than just desperation.

He had already lost the boy once. Hed sworn never to allow it again, and yet, here he was. Separated.

Cirayus took a moment to center himself. He was alone in this bizarre place. Which meant he was being shown this scene for a purpose. Vir was not here. Perhaps he was seeing a vision of his own.

A shadowy figure lunged at Cirayus, who blocked instinctively.

Cirayus might be hampered without the overwhelming prana of the Ashen Realm, but he had never failed to train his body. Like Vir, he too boasted an internal prana capacity far beyond that of most demonshe didnt need any other advantages to win most fights.

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Without Balancer at full strength, Cirayus had to fight differently. Lacking the agility the tattoo normally gave him meant he was forced to favor a more stationary style, leveraging his physique to deal devastating blows, while moving only the barest amount to dodge incoming attacks, and using Balancer as sparingly as possible.

Unlike Vir, his prana capacity wasnt nearly sufficient to power his strongest bloodline arts. That the lad managed such a feat filled Cirayus with giddy excitement.

The shadowy figure wasnt simply wearing a cloakits vaguely humanoid body was wreathed in a moving shadow that shrouded all details. Like an abyss of black.

Who are you? Cirayus said. What do you want with me?

The shadow halted. Who am I?

Another shadow appeared behind them. This is what you say after betraying us?

It wasnt enough to doom us to our deaths? said a third shadow. A female. It was an incredibly familiar voice.

Isnt that No. No, she would never say such a thing.

Now, you forget us as well? a fourth, older voice cried out, filling in the gap. Together, the four of them encircled him.

How am I to know who you are when you shroud yourself so?

Cirayus bellowed, but he recognized their voices instantly. Hed recognize them anywhere.

Why did she have to die? the elderly voice said. I entrusted her to you. You were supposed to care for her. Instead, you abandoned us for some boy! You killed my daughter!

Cirayus froze. Is that truly you, honored father?

The shadow melted away, revealing a frail, old red demon. Except, where his skin should have been, it had been burned off, revealing a hideous visage. Cirayus nearly turned away. Nearly.

It was Kamesh, alright. A horribly disfigured Kamesh. His only living wifes father had been a wise, gentle soul. A philosopher whom Cirayus, along with most of the Demon Realm, had greatly respected.

Is this what became of him? Did he truly suffer so?

This, and more, Cirayus, Kamesh croaked. But you see, I was but an old demon. I care not what became of me. What of her? What of them?

He turned, slowly, to the shadow Kamesh pointed at.

No Cirayus whispered, trembling.

There, where the shadow once was, stood his dearest Kiyara. His wife of four decades. Disfigured, like her father. Bleeding from multiple battle wounds.

I fought so hard, Cirayus. I fought to protect our family. Where were you when we needed you most?

Kiyara, why were you there? Why was Kamesh there when Samar Patag fell?

Cirayus heart wept. She should never have experienced such cruelty. She should have been hidden away at Camar Gadin, as hed told them. Certainly not Kamesh. Kiyara was a capable warrior, but her father? He had no business being anywhere near the Gargan capital.

Traitor, father and daughter said together.

That one word cut through Cirayus more than any injury hed ever sustained.

Father couldnt bear to stand idly by while innocents died. He insisted on going to Samar Patag to aid the wounded, Kiyara said, her voice dripping with regret. I dissuaded him, but he wouldnt listen. In the end, I gave in. I accompanied him to that damned city. Do you know why?

Why? Cirayus croaked, his throat dry.

Because he convinced me that you would never allow anything to happen to us. That you, the mighty Ravager, would protect his kin. I believed him.

I What could Cirayus say, except the truth? I did.

So you admit it, a third voice said. Another, all-too-familiar voice. It was the voice of his thirteenth son.

Satish, Cirayus said, turning to face his son. Unlike the others, his face wasnt burned, but instead, he bled through numerous sword wounds that covered his torso. Far too many, even for a hardy Bairan to survive. It spoke of the valor with which the demon had shown.

You fought to the end, Cirayus said.

I did. To the cold, bitter end. I never lost hope. I knew you would come. Right up to my dying breath. Had I known, I mightve lived. I might never have thrown my life away for those doomed people.

Cirayus was not easily brought low, but this? Only a cold, broken soul could carry on after learning such revelations.

The giant fell to his knees. Kamesh, Kiyara, and Satish all walked up to him. Slowly. Deliberately.

Cirayus met their judging gazes. That boy will save us. He is the future. Sarvaak is more important than me. Than even you.

One boy. Your whole family. No scale would weigh them equally, Kamesh said, placing his maimed hand on Cirayus shoulder. We are dead. At least let our souls rest in peace.

Cirayus lowered his head. What would you have me do, honored elder?

In terms of age, Cirayus was older. Yet Kamesh was the father of his wife. His position of honor was unquestionable.

You would make amends with us?

You know better than most how much I care for my own, Cirayus said. If your souls have not found the peace you deserve, then I shall do what I can to allow you to rejoin the cycle.

Very well, Kamesh said, handing Cirayus a ceremonial dagger. Follow us. There is one we would have you kill.

Is that all? Cirayus cracked his neck. Will this truly appease you? I am no stranger to death. You know this.

Kamesh nodded solemnly, then turned and started walking.

Cirayus followed his dearly departed family as they marched through the burning streets of Samar Patag. Injured victims moaned, and the roads were filled with dead warriors.

Did the city ever recover? Or would he only find a husk of its former glory when he arrived there? From experience, Cirayus knew which was more likely. Yet he hoped nonetheless. He wanted so desperately to believe his familys sacrifice had not been in vain.

Nay, it wasnt, he reminded himself. They bought us the time we needed to save young Sarvaak.

His family turned a corner onto a streeta street Cirayus knew well. It led to a small square ringed by one and two-story buildingsall burned or burning.

They stopped at a particular door, which opened, revealing a ghastly white figure, pale and translucent.

Unlike the others, the elderly demon woman did not burn.

Greesha, Cirayus said, his voice hoarse.

Greesha smiled sadly. It was a smile that carried the weight of centuries. Hello, Cirayus. My poor herald.