The wagon carrying Vir and Maiya rolled smoothly across the newly paved stone roads that now served as a thoroughfare for connecting the outlying villages to Samar Patag—something unheard of in the clan’s history. There had never been enough wealth to build such a network, and the nomadic nature of most demons had made roads nearly useless after only a season or two.

  That had all changed with the introduction of Saunak’s Prana Distributor, or the Prana Fountain, as it had become known, much to Saunak’s displeasure.

  As for why Vir took a carriage instead of relying on Ashani’s Gates, this was precisely the reason. To see for himself how the land had changed.

  Evidence of the marvel’s effects lay all around them as they rode through the fertile fields that surrounded Nihira.

  The historic council of the realm’s leaders would not be held in Samar Patag’s newly expanded castle nor in its grand central square. Instead, they had chosen the fledgling Chitran city for the site of the meeting.

  Far to the east of the capital, the city was built in an area with such sparse prana that, only a year ago would have been nothing but a punishment and a prison for the Chitran who were put here. Now it thrived. Now, it was a city the Chitran were proud to call home.

  Saunak’s invention had already altered the clan’s land beyond recognition, flooding the region with prana. The demon realm’s perpetual sunlight had always had the seed of prosperity, and now, there was nothing to stop people and crops alike from growing strong. It would not stop there. This was but a microcosm of the world the Demon Realm would soon become.

  No longer would clans war to control territory closest to the Ash Boundary. No longer would they have to fight for prana scraps, all so their warriors could gain a slight edge. With Ashani’s Gates and Saunak’s Fountains, the realm would soon have more prana than it would ever need.

  It would have already, were it not for the fact that the device relied on connecting a Mahādi Gate to a crystal that dispersed prana into the land and the air, saturating everything around it. Since its source was Mahādi itself, the Gates never needed recharging, allowing Ashani to create them freely even in Vir’s absence.

  “The problem, of course, was you,” Maiya said from behind, gazing out at the lush greenery that had been little more than a lifeless wasteland a year prior. “Without you, we couldn’t recharge Ashani’s orbs. We had to be extremely strategic about where we placed them. Not to mention she could no longer travel through her new Gates without you. The other clans are practically begging us for their own, but I couldn’t risk draining Ashani. Not when I didn’t know how long you’d be gone.”

  Vir squeezed Maiya’s hand. “Something we’ll need to change. Something to be discussed at this meeting.”

  “I thought you’d say that,” Maiya said with a warm smile. “Even Ira wants them. Can you just imagine what would happen if the Human Realm got this? Hiranya, the Pagan Order… no more children growing up weak and malnourished because the land of their birth happened to be barren. For once, prosperity won’t be dictated by access to prana.”

  “The future is bright for both realms,” Vir said. “We simply need to ensure no bad actors seek to thwart it. Speaking of, I have not seen Raoul…”

  Maiya’s expression soured. “I didn’t rightly know what to do with him. Some wanted him killed. Others recognized his contributions. I followed Cirayus’ counsel in the end, banishing him from Gargan lands, never to return.”

  “I see…” Vir replied. It pained him to see such a talented mind wasted, and he did feel he owed him a debt for his assistance in dealing with Annas. That said, Raoul had been a traitor. Vir could not afford to send the message that treachery was tolerated.

  “Would you have done differently?” Maiya asked cautiously.

  “No,” Vir said, giving her a warm smile. “Not one bit. In this, and in everything, you’ve handled everything so marvelously, Mai.”

  Maiya blushed, but her smile betrayed her true feelings.

  Vir looked out at the passing fields, to the flourishing crops. He didn’t need Prana Vision to see her work in action. The kothi farmers were well-fed, brimming with vitality. Part of that was thanks to Saunak’s invention, yes, but much of it was due to Asuman’s leadership and Maiya’s deft hand in managing the Chitran. These weren’t beaten, hollow-eyed demons who had lost a war. These were Chitran with hope—eager to make a fresh start.

  “Still,” Vir said with a frown, “what about the danger? Each Gate connects deep within Mahādi, doesn’t it? Aren’t you worried about powerful Ash Beasts coming through?”

  He remembered having that very concern when Saunak first pitched the idea. Now, seeing Fountains deployed in such numbers, his unease returned tenfold.

  “I worried about that too,” Maiya said. “But it isn’t actually a problem. I mean, you don’t see a single Fountain, do you?”

  Vir scanned the fields, then turned his gaze downward. There, deep beneath the soil, pulsed the monstrous prana of the devices.

  “You buried them,” he said, eyes widening.

  “Exactly. We buried both the Gates and the crystals. There simply isn’t enough space for monsters to emerge. If they try, they’ll just hit solid rock and be forced back. The prana saturates and propagates out, infusing the air indirectly. This way, it’s safe for everyone, even if you’re standing right on top of it. As much as I dislike that demon, I have to admit it’s quite ingenious.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Vir agreed. It was a brilliant solution—one he himself had never considered. A far more elegant safeguard than collapsing Gates whenever something dangerous came through.

  Before long, the tall walls of Nihira rose into view—thick, strong, crowned with proud ramparts and numerous towers, Kothi Warriors patrolling them in gleaming steel armor.

  “Let me guess,” Vir said, marveling at the sheer robustness of the construction. “Cirayus had a hand in designing this place.”

  “Of course,” Maiya laughed. “He, Balagra, and Malik all worked together to design and build this. Honestly? I feel like it’s even more defensible than Samar Patag, even after its renovations. I’m kinda jealous.”

  “Well, Samar Patag still has the sea to its west,” Vir offered.

  “True,” she said. “But this city has an ocean to the east.”

  As they crested a hill, Vir finally saw it—a vast harbor stretching in the distance, still under construction.

  “Water trade routes aren’t viable yet,” Maiya admitted. “Not with our clan’s territory the only one with prana this far east. But I commissioned the harbor figuring that situation would change the moment you came back.”

  “You truly believed I’d return, didn’t you?” Vir asked.

  “You doubted it?”

  “Not at all,” Vir said, squeezing Maiya’s hand. “But more than your words, more than you watching over me, to commission a project on this scale, all on that hope...”

  Maiya scoffed, pretending to look upset as she turned away. They both knew it was only to hide the tears welling up in her eyes.

  “Of course,” she said, her voice breaking.

  They stopped short of the city’s double gates, where they were met by mounted Chitran riders—an honor guard surrounding none other than Asuman himself. Vir did not step out to greet him, instead allowing the governor to dismount and enter his carriage.

  Viewing the countryside wasn’t the only reason Vir had chosen this method of travel—anonymity was a commodity for both him and Maiya these days, and face paint was out of the question. It would not do to show anything but his true face before the Rajas and Rajnis of the realm.

  Asuman opened the door and entered. Yet instead of sitting, he dropped to one knee, grasped Vir’s hand, and pressed it to his forehead.

  “Akh Nara. It is so good to see you alive and well,” the kothi said, his voice full of genuine warmth and relief. “I had no doubt you would return.”

  Vir was shocked speechless for a moment, while Maiya looked upon the scene with quiet amusement.

  “He was one of the only others who held out hope, even after the realm had given up on you.”

  “I… I see,” he stammered, before realizing it would not do to speak so casually.

  He straightened up and met the kothi’s eyes. “It is good to see you too, Asuman. My journey was both long and painful, but I am pleased with what you have accomplished in my absence. It would seem you are flourishing in your role as governor of this new town.”

  “None of it would have been possible,” Asuman said, “were it not for your glorious Rajni and her infinite wisdom, or Cirayus, or Malik, or Saunak, or any number of the other brilliant souls you have gathered by your side. Had I known this was the future that awaited my people, I would have wholeheartedly supported you from the moment we first met. You cannot imagine how much I regretted attempting to appease Matiman.”

  Vir shook his head and gestured to the seat across from him, which Asuman took. “You were given little choice,” Vir said. “In fact, I’m still amazed you managed to keep the peace in Samar Patag for as long as you did. Do you miss it? Being governor there?”

  “Do I miss being governor of a city where half of its residents wished nothing more than to kill the other? Bending my will to a corrupt monarch?” Asuman chuckled. “Absolutely not.”

  He glanced at Maiya. “Of course, these days, it is a different story. The city is harmonious and prosperous, as Nihira is now, but I admit I am far more invested in this fledgling town. Smaller and less prestigious though it may be, I take pride in my role here. I had a hand in creating it, after all. I am somewhat attached to it. These are my people. As much as I care for Gargans, my people are hard hit. I wish to help them as best I can.”

  Vir nodded. “As it should be. I’m happy to hear you are enjoying this role. I hope you see fit to continue for many years to come.”

  “I certainly will,” Asuman replied with a vigor he had lacked a year earlier. Gone was the hesitant, scared demon Vir had once known—replaced by a true leader, someone who cared more for his city than even himself.

  “If only I could show you all that we have built,” Asuman said.

  Vir smiled. “I look forward to seeing what I can through these windows as we make our way to the meeting.”

  “Of course,” Asuman said, sliding open the window just enough for the guards to usher them past the city gate. “I understand the need for discretion.”

  The carriage trundled past, and they each fell silent, each considering the upcoming meeting.

  It was no exaggeration to say that this was perhaps the most significant in the history of the demon realm thus far.

  Never before had every Raja of the realm congregated. Never before had they discussed a unified vision for the future—a vision that might guide the realm for a millennium or more. Never before had there been such peace and harmony between the Rajas and Rajnis. And yet, barely a soul would know of it.

  There would be no processions, no feasts or banquets or celebrations. The building chosen was deliberately nondescript—an average, modestly furnished room, easily defensible and just large enough to accommodate a table and the seven rulers who would attend. Thanks to Ashani’s Gates, none would even know the foreign dignitaries had entered the country. Nor would they know the significance of the meeting.

  As it should be.

  This was not an event to be touted or bragged about. It was something to be conducted with solemn dignity, in service of the realm.

  For the demon realm had to change. It could not afford another war like the one that had robbed Vir of so much. It could not afford clan squabbles and shortsighted self-interest.

  As the carriage passed through the town, Asuman began narrating all the town’s features with the pride of a father extolling their child, and Vir listened raptly.

  On display were all the lessons Maiya and the others had learned from Samar Patag’s failings. Wide roads that eliminated congestion. Sidewalks that allowed pedestrians to walk safely with their children on even the largest streets. Shops and homes of every stratum, all comingled to prevent the kind of rigid stratification that had plagued Samar Patag in the past.

  There were no slums here. No warrens for Outcasts—the Calling had been purged the moment Vir had taken control, its demons given Callings suited to their interests and skill set.

  Asuman proudly explained every facet of the city, from its advanced sewers and ergonomic design, to the parks and green spaces to the schools. Especially those. Schools seemed to be everywhere—far more than Samar Patag had ever possessed.

  The demons who grew up here would be well educated, both in their Calling, and in the ways of the world. Vir would see to it.

  His excitement only grew as he saw the kothi’s happy faces, the way everyone moved with energy. It boded well, not just for the city, but for what it meant for the clan’s future. The realm’s future.

  If the Garga could coexist with their archenemy, then anything was possible. This city was living proof.

  At last, they arrived at the designated building, alighting one by one to enter a small hallway that took them to an equally small room with a single circular table, seven seats, and a tall ceiling. Vir took his place, with Asuman on his left and Maiya on his right.

  Waiting for him was none other than Ashani.

  “Shall we begin?” she asked, once they were all seated.

  Vir let out a long, slow breath. He found himself strangely calm. Perhaps his recent experiences biased him, but after cheating death, aligning a group of squabbling kings and queens felt almost like child’s play.

  “Let us not keep our guests waiting.”