Ashborn Primordial

Chapter Ashborn 315: The Thaumaturge

“Shan. Keep watch. Push me if you see anything. Or anyone,” Vir said, sitting cross-legged on the cracked clay soil of the Bairan countryside.

If there was one thing Vir loathed, it was wasting time. Rather than sit and wait for Cirayus, he had a better idea.

Closing his eyes, Vir entered his mindscape and summoned Shardul.

“So, you have returned,” Shardul said. “Are you ready to meditate again on the concept of the Life Chakra?”

“I think… there’s no need. I think I’ll be able to open it. I’m almost there,” Vir replied.

“Oh? What have you learned?”

“I… recently lost someone I cared about. A child, of Samar Patag.”

“I see. And you blame yourself for this child’s death, do you?”

“I do,” Vir said. “At least, I did. Though he was given explicit instruction to remain in a position of safety, he ventured out during an Ash Beast horde. He died protecting another.”

“Bolin’s death was a tragedy,” Vir said. “He was not the only one who died that day. And ever since then, I’d shouldered that weight. I’d convinced myself that I could have saved their lives had I been stronger or faster. I realize now that this was nothing but arrogance. No matter how strong I am, I am but one lone demon. If I am to lead this rebellion, I have to accept that there will be death.”

“It is a fundamental truth that all eventually learn,” Shardul agreed. “There is no effort without error. No risk without cost.”

“I understand that now,” Vir said. “But with that understanding came another. Death… is tragic, yes. But souls exist. Chakras prove that, after all. Death is tragic, but maybe it’s not the end. The cycle continues. It merely transitions from one state to another.”

It was a simple conclusion to make—hardly anything profound. And yet, speaking the worlds unlocked a gate within Vir. The stress of the pressure—the burden of responsibility he carried—eased ever so slightly, and Vir let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Vir fully opened his Life Chakra, and awareness flooded into him. The forest around him because vibrant—new sights and sounds assaulted his senses from all directions, and suddenly, the forest felt more alive.

Birds chirped and squirrels and other rodents ran around. The meadow felt as though it stretched on forever, and the sound of the river through it tickled Vir’s ears.

Wait. River!?

His eyes shot open. He hadn’t imagined it. Where before, he’d sat in the middle of a small meadow, now, a small river—more of a babbling brook—flowed near him. Flowers grew along its green soil, with butterflies flitting among them.

“My mindscape… expanded?”

“A natural evolution,” Shardul said, admiring the scenery. “Quite peaceful. I must say, I approve. Mine was far less appealing.”

Vir was about to ask what this meant—what opening other Chakras would do—but a strange sensation made him pause. A pressure on him. On his back.

His eyes widened. “Shan!”

With a thought, the mindscape faded, and Vir opened his eyes to the Demon Realm… and to Shan, who stood in front of him.

“Thanks, Shan. I take it we have company?” Vir asked, rising to his feet.

Twenty paces away, two figures approached. A giant. And an even bigger giant, holding a large case of some sort.

“Cirayus?” Vir asked. “Is this…”

“Aye, lad,” Cirayus said with pride. “Vir, meet my granddaughter, Aida! She's one of the best...” Cirayus trailed off.

“Is that... Is that...”

The enormous woman who towered over Cirayus stared open-mouthed, pointing. Not at Vir, but at Shan.

“Quite perceptive of you to notice,” Vir said. “Most who seem him assume he's a prana wolf.”

“I couldn't be sure, but... There's something different about him. Something regal. Dangerous.”

“Aida, it's a pleasure to meet you.” Vir said, bowing his head. “This is my good friend, Shan.”

Shan puffed out his chest and howled with pride, which caused Aida to take a step back.

Cirayus coughed lightly. “As I was saying, Aida's one of the finest Thaumaturges in Camar Gadin. Aida, meet Vir.”

The giantess took a deep breath, then punched Cirayus. Hard. “Ajja, you know that’s not true. I’m middling at best. Got no chance in the Ash of competing with ancient relics like you.”

Like her grandfather, Aida was a four-armed red demon, though her height made Cirayus look like a child. Her arms boasted a number of azure Bairan tattoos, which were on display thanks to the loose-fitting black tank top she wore. Her arms and hands were stained black with soot, as if she'd been plucked from her place of work. Which, now that Vir thought about it, was likely exactly what happened.

Cirayus grunted in pain, even as he bellowed a hearty laugh.

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Some family… Vir thought.

“This the kid, huh?” Aida said, finally wrenching her eyes off of Shan and onto Vir. “By Adinat, he’s young.”

“Aye,” Cirayus said. “He’s the one.”

“The Akh Nara, huh? In the flesh,” Aida said, walking up to Vir. She was like one and a half Cirayuses—easily over twice as tall as Vir, and he had to crane his neck to look up at the muscular red demon.

“Doesn’t look like much,” Aida grunted, making Vir frown.

“Do you judge everyone based on their looks? Or is that honor reserved just for me?”

Aida said nothing for a long moment, and Vir wondered if he needed to start cycling prana.

Then the giant’s expression cracked and she doubled over laughing.

“Ajja! You never said he was this fun!”

Cirayus grinned. “Told you you’d like him!”

“Is he taken?” she asked, standing straight up.

“Aye, I’m afraid he is, but there’s always room for a second wife.”

“Second wife of the Akh Nara, huh?” Aida said. “I could live with that.”

“Er, you two do realize I’m standing right here, yes?” Vir said. He didn’t know if he ought to be angry or exasperated at their exchange. Probably both.

“Aye, and what of it? Maiya can be your first, but you can have a dozen wives, if you want. Plenty of fine lasses who’d like to be with the Akh Nara.”

“Uh, thanks, but no thanks,” Vir said evenly, backing away slowly. “Maiya’s the only one I’m interested in.”

“He’s certainly an odd one,” Aida said, looking him up and down.

Cirayus shrugged. “Cut him some slack. He grew up in the wrong realm, after all.”

“Because of your failure,” Aida said, narrowing her eyes at her grandfather. Vir couldn’t get over how she had to look down at Cirayus, almost as if he were a child. That the demon was almost certainly centuries older nearly broke something within Vir’s head.

“A failure for which I take full responsibility,” Cirayus said.

“Er, not to interrupt, but are we going to inscribe that tattoo?” Vir asked. Truthfully, he’d been looking forward to this for a long while. He’d never once seen a Thaumaturge etch a tattoo, and while his might only be temporary, Vir hoped to learn from the process.

“An eager one, aren’t you?” Aida said. “Y’know, this won’t give you any power at all.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Vir said, meeting the giantess’ gaze. “It’ll let me go wherever I wish without fear of detection. That’s worth more to me than most tattoos.”

Aida shrugged, dropping her bag. “Then let’s begin.”

The process was about as painful as Vir had imagined it to be. To allow Aida to etch the tattoo, Vir had to disable Prana Armor and evacuate the prana from his skin to make it pliable. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. Not only did it make his chest feel weak, it made him feel naked.

An issue compounded by the fact that he was naked from the waist up.

“Stop squirming! Don’t be such a child! It’d only a little pain,” Aida said, her head just inches away from Vir’s chest.

It wasn’t the pain that made Vir squirm. It was the intense awkwardness of having a giant female press her body against his. Professional or not, this felt all sorts of wrong to Vir.

It was in times like these that Vir thanked the gods for the existence of Chakra. The Foundation Chakra calmed his minds—trees did not grow flustered, after all.

Vir stopped squirming and instead observed the giantess work her needle.

“I know what you’re thinking. Normally, I’d inject prana into the tattoo. But that would hardly be useful, given your unique affinity,” Aida said as she worked. “Actually, that works in our favor. Doing it this way makes the tattoo much weaker, and prone to unraveling. Normally undesirable, but in your case, it’s precisely what we want.”

“So I just need to inject prana into the tattoo, then?” Vir asked.

“You’ll have to follow the tattoo, of course. But yes, when I finish, you’ll need to channel prana through it.”

“Is it just the pattern you’re tracing?” Vir asked.

Aida shook her head. “The pattern must be etched at exactly the right depth at the right size and position—all three factors must be exacting and perfect. It’s why crafting new tattoos is near-impossible. The consequences of failure are often disastrous. Not to mention, we’re working with Ash prana here, so that’s an unknown factor.”

Vir fell silent, despite his heart raging in his chest. Long ago, he’d wondered if Parai’s cycling technique had something to do with Chakras. Now, he wondered if tattoos operated on the same principle. There were the seven main chakras, but there were over a hundred minor chakras all throughout the body. Did tattoo inscription require connecting the right ones together? Was that why the size, position, and depth mattered?

Of course, no one knew. Not even the Thaumaturges. It was just like in the human realm—people blindly copied the same tattoos that had been passed down since the Age of Gods.

Well, maybe not everyone. Ashani might know. And Vir would bet Saunak knew more than any other Thaumaturge in the demon realm.

It made him appreciate how demonic understanding of magic was more advanced than humanity’s. Vir also wondered how much of it was built upon the back of Saunak’s work.

Too bad both he and Ashani were both realms apart.

Far, though not unreachable. Not anymore. Saunak’s lair could be reached via a network of Ash Gates—assuming Vir managed to locate it.

The Mahādi Realm could be found again.

The thought made Vir giddy with excitement. When the tournament was over, he’d return to the Ash. To fulfill the oath he’d made all those years ago.

Aida soon finished the tattoo, which resembled an eight-pronged star and sat just below his chest tattoo, on his stomach.

“That ought to do it,” Aida said, standing up and wiping sweat from her brow. “Don’t have much practice with this one. Let alone doing it this way. Cycle your prana through it and let me know if it works.”

“Er, okay?” Vir replied hesitantly. “I’ve never had a tattoo before. Mind giving me the basics?”

“Some tattoos, like the Ultimate Arts, are difficult to learn how to activate,” Cirayus explained. He was seated cross-legged nearby and had been meditating while Aida worked. “Luckily, this one’s a bit simpler. Start by inserting prana at the topmost point, then trace the tattoo clockwise. With your prana control, I doubt you’ll have any issues. Just a trickle, mind you. It doesn’t need much.”

“Er, actually, it does,” Aida said. “This tattoo is very inefficient, I’m afraid. You’d best give it your all.”

“Do not give it your all, lad,” Cirayus rebuked. “Trust me, Aida. The lad’s prana defies common sense. He has many times more than even I do.”

Vir wished he could’ve captured Aida’s expression at that moment. With bulged eyes and a gaping mouth, she looked hysterical, and only Vir’s decency kept him from bursting out laughing. Though, he suspected the giantess wouldn’t have done the same were she in his shoes.

“A trickle, then,” Vir said, closing his eyes and feeling the fresh burn of the tattoo. Vir wasn’t worried about the mark. He was confident it’d disappear if he surged prana around the area for long enough. That would also destroy the tattoo, however, so he instead purged the prana from that area, and instead guided a small sliver of his body’s prana along its lines.

Slowly at first, then faster. It was no different from tracing through Parai’s technique, and now that he could decouple prana from blood, the task was trivial.

“Well? Is it working?” Aida asked.

Cirayus shrugged. “Don’t look at me. The lad’s the one with Iksana Sight.”

Vir opened his eyes and turned Prana Vision inward. The black abyss of prana he’d grown used to seeing was nowhere to be found. Instead, he saw a hazy mix of all the various affinities, and far less of it than there ought to have been.

Nothing had changed within his body, however. Vir felt his vast reserves of Ash prana, and could still move it around as expected. Just that, when the star tattoo was powered, he could no longer see it.

And neither could any Iksana Ghaels.

“It works,” Vir said, beaming. “Thank you, Aida.”

The giantess waved him off with her two left hands. “Don’t worry about it. I owe ajja here more than I could ever repay. This doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. Besides…” Aida scratched the bridge of her nose. “He’s family. And, I guess by extension, so are you?”

Vir smiled and nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Now, while I have you here, could I ask you for another favor?”

Aida perked up her brow and smirked. “Hey now. My charity only goes so far.”

“Oh, it’s nothing big,” Vir replied, a devilish grin spreading on his face.

He pointed to Shan. “I was just wondering if you could inscribe a couple of Aspect tattoos on my good buddy over there.”