206: Of Kings and Queens (Part Two)

“Well, lad” Cirayus said wistfully, gazing off into the distance to times long past. “I’m sure you can already guess a few things about your father.”

“That he was a combat junkie crazy enough to fight Ash Beasts to train?” Vir asked innocently.

Cirayus chuckled. “Aye, he certainly was. Never met a man who loved the thrill of combat quite as much as your father, especially in the early days. Nor anyone who so craved to better himself, either. And not just at fighting. From leadership to cooking to being a better friend, he never ceased improving in his entire life.”

“Huh. I’m guessing he was centuries old, like you?”

“Somewhere in his mid three hundreds. Let me tell you, lad. There are few things more impressive than those who never stop developing themselves, day after day, decade after decade. His mastery in some skills was downright terrifying.”

Vir could scarcely imagine. He, himself, had come so far in just a single year. What would it look like if he continued for centuries on end? It was a wonder how Cirayus and his father hadn’t turned into literal deities by this point.

“Why, though?” Vir asked. “What did he fight for?”

“Well, he always said he fought for Shari—your mother.”

“You believe that?” Vir asked.

“I do,” the giant said with a small sigh. “He might have craved his fights, but he loved nothing and no one more than your mother. Of that, I have no doubt. Ever since he met Shari, he… changed. His zeal redoubled, and he became a different demon. A better one.”

“How did they meet?” Vir asked. He’d always enjoyed Rudvik’s story of how he met his wife in the village.

“Ah, now that is a tale. Your father was a Gargan prince at the time, much as you yourself are now. His father was the Raja—Clanlord—and his mother was Clanlady. Maion, being Maion, was often off fighting Ash Beasts at the boundary shirking his princely duties.”

“And my mother?”

“A renowned healer of the Panav clan. They called her a miracle worker—such was her ability to heal others.”

“Let me guess,” Vir said. “He was off fighting Ash Beasts one day and got in over his head?”

Cirayus let out a deep laughter. “That was exactly what happened. Not especially surprising, considering the sort of opponents he fought. Hardly a week went by without him getting injured one way or another. That time was was worse, though. That he was fighting a Garga beast only made the whole thing more ironic. Well…” The giant’s expression darkened. “That, and the fact that he was helping the Chitran protect their border with the Ash at the time.”

“The Chitran?” Vir said, his anger flaring. “Why would he help them, of all people?”

“I asked the same thing. Those backstabbing chals’ history with the Garga runs deep, and very little of it was friendly. Yet your father, being your father, always felt that the war against the Ash trumped inter-clan politics. He aided those in need, regardless of whether they wanted it. For risking his life, he was often the butt of ridicule and anger.”

Vir didn’t quite know how he felt about that. Maion sounded like the hero of every fable—a knight in shining armor. Or at least, how knights should have been, were they not corrupt pawns of the state.

On the other hand, it made Vir’s blood boil that the very people he’d risked his life to help slaughtered his clan and murdered him. Would Vir do the same?

He didn’t even need to think about it. He wouldn’t. He’d have let those Chitrans die.

Perhaps it was wrong of him to want revenge. Maybe there was more to the story than met the eye. But at that moment, Vir wished for nothing more than to return the atrocities the Chitran had committed upon his people tenfold.

“Your mother, Shari, saved his life. The prince had gotten himself gored so badly, the other healers had written him off. Not your mother, though. She didn’t even break a sweat. In fact, he recovered so quickly, he was fighting beasts again the very next day. Much to Shari’s frustration, of course.”

“You were there?” Vir asked, half expecting the answer. Cirayus and Maion seemed like they went everywhere together.

“Aye, I was fighting beasts some distance away. I didn’t see what had happened until after he’d been injured.”

“So, uh… Did they end up together after that?”

Cirayus snorted. “Not even close. Maion certainly was in love. You could see it in his eyes the moment he awoke and learned she’d healed him. Your mother, I’m afraid, felt quite differently.”

“What happened?”

“Well, y’see, your father was quite witty. A smooth talker. A bit of a ladies’ man, and why wouldn’t he be? He was a prince. Handsome, strong, and noble. He had no end of suitors, and his fair share of flings.”

“Er… Should you really be telling me this?”

The giant shrugged—an odd gesture, given his four-armed physiology.

“You wanted to know your father?” he said with a smirk. “This was as much a part of him as everything else.”

Vir’s knight in shining armor image crumbled.

“Anyway, I lost count of the number of advances he made on her, but she brushed him off each time.”

“Why, though? He sounds perfect. Like you said—he had it all.”

“Aye, and I think that was what drove your mother away from him. He seemed too perfect. Too good to be true. And yet… some people truly are that amazing.”

I can believe that, Vir thought, remembering Ashani. Maybe he was alright, after all.

“So what happened after? Did she give in to him?”

“Not in the least,” Cirayus replied. “In fact, it got so bad that she actively avoided him for the longest time. But Maion was not one to give up, you see. For over a decade, he pursued her. Slowly and steadily, her wall crumbled. The irony of it all is they eventually grew to be close friends—something that continued even after they were married.”

“So… you’re saying he stalked her,” Vir said with a flat tone.

Cirayus broke out into laughter, clapping Vir on his back. “I suppose he kinda was, now that you mention it!”

The giant drifted off, no doubt thinking of fond memories.

“They were happy, then,” Vir said softly, eyeing a flock of flightless birds that sipped the water at the pond’s edge.

“Oh, yes. They loved each other dearly,” Cirayus said. There was fondness in his voice… But something else, too. Regret? Longing? Vir couldn’t say for certain.

“Those were the days, Vir. Your father assumed the mantle of leadership decades later, uniting and strengthening the Garga unlike ever before. They were prosperous times, when no Gargan went hungry, and everyone had a shelter over their heads. Samar Patag under your father’s reign, was glorious. They truly were the best days the clan had ever seen. People would prostrate as he went by. They’d shout his name in the streets.”

“He sounds amazing,” Vir said softly.

“Aye. Y’know, there’s a saying in the Demon Realm. ‘Never meet your heroes.’ Had I not known him so well, I’d have been convinced there was something nefarious going on. Few heroes ever live up to their reputation. But your father? He was one of the rare few that did.”

Those are some large shoes to fill… Vir thought.

Yes, he had his status as the Akh Nara going for him, but what of his actual leadership skills? He was just a teen, not some glorious ruler with centuries of experience. What did he know about being a Raja—a king? What did he know about commanding armies and politics?

“But you know?” Cirayus continued. “He never once let his fame get to his head. Neither did your mother—who continued working her healing miracles, building out networks of healers across the clan. People called her a divine messenger, such was her fame. In my four centuries of life, I can tell you without a shred of a doubt, Vir. They were the best people I have ever had the honor of knowing. Courageous, loyal, humble, and responsible.”

When Cirayus turned, tears dripped down his face.

“Four hundred years of life, Vir. Four centuries to shore up my own strength. And yet, I was powerless to stop the Chits. In the end, it was all I could do to save just one boy.”

Vir thought he understood. It wasn’t only a dear friend and family Cirayus had lost. As bad as that was, it wasn’t just his grief that had driven him to bring Vir across the Ash as a baby.

Cirayus had seen better times. He’d seen something great crumble and fall. And he felt like he didn’t have the power to protect what he cared for. So he turned to his last hope. The only one he thought who could. Vir.

And so, the pressure continues to mount, Vir thought. The mountain that rested atop his shoulders grew taller, the expectations heavier.

Vir was genuinely happy to learn his parents were good people. Great people, in fact. He was beyond happy. He’d have loved to have met them. To have learned from them. He would carry their memory with him, knowing they were so well loved.

Maion and Shari were like suns in the night sky, shining so dazzlingly bright.

“How do I do right by their memory?”

Vir had whispered the words to himself, though Cirayus heard, nonetheless.

“I’d debated telling you, lad. I feared you might feel this way. But… I think you are better off knowing. Fate robbed you of your time with them. I shall not be the one to rob you of their memory.”

“No, I’m grateful. I truly am. Just, how do I…” Vir trailed off.

“How do you make your parents proud?” Cirayus asked. “You already know the answer to that, lad.”

“Become the Akh Nara,” Vir said. “Unite the demon realm. But how, Cirayus? How do I possibly live up to everyone’s standards? No, not just live up to. Exceed it. My people will expect for the Akh Nara to rise above what my parents achieved. I just don’t know how I can manage that. I’m not a wise demon of three centuries. I’m no warrior of great renown, and I don’t know the first thing about leadership. How do I ensure I won’t let my people down?”

“You won’t, lad. Because you have everything they want in you already,” Cirayus said, putting a finger on his chest. “Here. No, not your tattoo. Deep within you. It’s your heart, lad. They need someone who cares for them. Who will put everything on the line to fight for them. That’s all. They do not expect perfection. They know how young you are. They don’t need a blazing inferno. All they need is a candle. The faintest flame of hope. Because right now, darkness surrounds them.”

“Am I that person, Cirayus?” Vir asked. “Someone who’ll risk life and limb for them?”

“Well? Are you?” Cirayus asked, meeting Vir’s gaze. “This is a decision only you can make. Though I feel that you’ve already made it.”

“What do you mean?”

Cirayus smiled. “You haven’t realized it, have you?”

“Realized what?” Vir asked, frowning.

“You’ve been referring to the Garga as ‘my people’.”

Vir was about to disagree, but found he couldn’t. Cirayus was right.

When did that happen?

The answer came immediately. Ashani.

The list of people whom he wished to protect was growing. Maiya, Neel, Ashani. And now, knowing who his parents had been… Knowing all they had sacrificed for him, there was something else that was worth protecting.

Their memory.

“They sacrificed everything for their people. Even their own lives.”

And how better to protect that than by preserving their legacy?

His father, the king of Garga, who’d fought to the death for him. His mother, the divine healer, who’d died during childbirth. The retainers who’d sacrificed their lives ferrying him to the Ash.

“Aye.”

Vir took a deep breath.

“I don’t know if I can become what they want me to be.

His parents gave everything for the Garga. For him.

“I don’t know if I have what it takes to be the Akh Nara.”

And so, Vir would do the same in return.

“I’ll be relying on you.”

Not because of Cirayus’ wish for better days, nor even for the faceless masses who saw him as their salvation.

“I’m going to do everything in my power to try.”

But because he wanted to.

“To honor my parents’ sacrifice.”

From that moment on, he would no longer be Ekavir, bravest of the brave. He would be something different. Something more. The Akh Nara. A symbol of hope.

And he’d need a new name.