Ashborn Primordial

Chapter 2: Death Of A Dream

Aliscia grasped Virs shoulders and stared at him with her hazel eyes. Even if you are prana scorned, what of it? I dont have any affinities myself and I manage just fine, dont I? There are many paths through life, even for those who arent good at magic, she said with the warm smile of a mother.

Well sure, but magic makes things easier. Magic gets you respect. Dont you wish you had an affinity, Aliscia aunty?

Wishes do not make dreams come true. But you know what does? Hard work, she said, handing him his broom. Chin up, now. And be sure to see Maiya later. She has a surprise planned for you, Aliscia said with a wink.

A surprise? Vir thought. He was already growing excited thinking about Maiyas gift, despite himself.

Vir resolved to overcome this setback. He had no idea how, but he would. He just somehow knew. Perhaps these new voices in his head would help him. He itched to find out more about them, but it would have to wait until he'd finished with his duties for the day. What he did notice was that the voices grew louder around certain items. Especially powered utility magic orbs.

And for the millionth time, Im not your aunt! Aliscia huffed as she stood up to leave.

Yes, aunty,said Vir with a sly smile.

The Magic Clock on the wall pinged again. Only forty-five more minutes until congregation. He was late, and he had a lot of work to do.

First came the lighting. He picked up his lantern and went around lighting the candles placed all around the temple, the ancient wooden floorboards creaking underfoot.

Magic Lamps were safer, of course, but Apramor always said that there was a quality to real fire that magic could never replace. Vir liked the thought, even if he knew the priest was just being considerate.

Ping! The clock indicated only a half hour left.

Vir finished lighting the incense sticks in front of the tarnished altars of the gods, filling the temple with the soothing smell of sandalwood. He put fresh flower garlands on the icons of the gods, then swept the floor clean with practiced efficiency. Ten minutes.

Last came the faded cushions, which he placed all around the room on the floor. The temple was devoid of any chairs, but Vir found these lounging cushions more comfortable, anyway. He finished the task with five minutes to spare.

Apramor appeared from his private room just as Vir was finishing up with the cushions and rested a hand on his shoulder.

I heard

Vir had finally distracted himself from the results of his magic test, but now his mood came crashing down once again.

I shall offer you no words of comfort, for I know they will not help you, the priest said. Instead, I hope you listen carefully to todays sermon. It may very well contain the answer to your plight.

Yes, sir, he replied. I doubt it.

The priest took a moment to gaze at his handiwork.

Fine job, as always, Vir. I appreciate your help.

Of course, sir. Its my pleasure.

Tis your pleasure, is it? I see that my daughters been rubbing off on you, Apramor chuckled. Now, settle in. I think you will enjoy this, he said. Vir was sure he saw a glint in the priests eyes.

Villagers had already filtered in, and the silent temple filled with hushed chatter. Some greeted Apramor. Others took their seats and prayed. All looked away the moment they saw Vir, which reminded him to flip up the hood on his cloak.

Apramor, why do you continue to employ that Ashborn child? a villager said.

Mr. Akros. Always nosy. Always angry. This wasnt the first time the irate villager had voiced his concerns, and Vir was sure it wouldnt be the last time either.

Its its unholy! Akros whispered. My son is far more suitable. I can have him start on the morrow. Just say the word. Please!

Vir ignored the man and climbed up a wooden post near the back, using footholds hed made years ago. This was his spot, where the musky scent of incense wafted up to, satisfying his nose. A birds nest, of sorts.

From here, he saw the copper idols of the gods. He saw Apramors lectern, and moreover, he was above the crowd. From up here, no eyes judged him. For these precious few moments, he felt ordinary. He felt like he belonged.

And would your boy show up as regularly as the suns cycles? Apramor said with priestly patience. Would he arrive an hour before dawn to help me day after day, week after week? Hmm?

Akros scratched his neck and looked off into the distance, breaking eye contact with the priest. W-Well,

hes just a boy, after all. He may miss a day or two, but I assure you hes as devout as anyone in Brij! Certainly more than the Ashborn. That boys not even a believer!

You will never find religion in a perfectly clean soul, Akros. You would know that, wouldnt you

Silence. Vir thought he saw a trace of guilt flash across the man's face, but he knew better. Akros would never feel bad about demeaning him. Right?

Please take your seat, Apramor continued, And know that I do not seek devotion in my assistants. I require only dedication. Vir has not missed a single day in all the years hes served me. He is one of us, and he is irreplaceable. That is my final say on this matter.

Virs chest filled with warm pride at Apramors words. He only wished he couldve preserved Akros expression at that moment. It gave him great joy to see the mean man knocked down a peg. That it happened in public only made it taste even sweeter.

One of us... Akros murmured to himself, though Vir knew not why.

Apramor turned his back to the man and strode up the wooden dais where his lectern was located, in front of the idols of the gods. The hushed murmurs quietened, leaving the ancient temple in silence for a good half minute. Then he spoke.

Today, I narrate the tale of Janak the Wise. Though he may not be as renowned as the likes of Adinat or Haymi, I find his story nonetheless profound.

Vir wasnt expecting this. Hed long ago memorized Apramors adventures of the gods that took them to wonderful places Vir could scarcely even imagine. He often put himself in their shoes, pretending it was him going on those adventures.

Stolen story; please report.

But he could never truly relate. Every god of legend was celebrated and loved by all. Even the antagonists. Vir was anything but.

Though he hadnt yet heard Janaks story. Would this tale be any different from all the others? Vir leaned forward on the edge of the rafter he perched upon, hoping to absorb every word.

The legends often portray Janak as a wise philosopher king, and this is true. Having ascended past worldly desires, he thought only of his adopted daughter, Siya. But few know the trials and tribulations he faced in his early years, before he became a god. When he was called Janak the Desperate.

Hushed whispers broke out through the temple. Janak the Desperate!? Ive never heard of this! Wasnt he always a god?

Janak began as a mortal man. An ordinary man, and a flawed one at that. He grew up weak and frail, but moreover, he lacked even a morsel of ambition. He lost himself in worldly pleasures, shirking his duties as the son of a king, Apramors voice filled every cobwebbed nook of the holy place. His father the king, growing angry, banished him from their palace. 'Fend for yourself. Perhaps then, you will be enlightened,' his father said.

For years, Janak roamed the lands. He lived in poverty, experiencing abuse at the hands of others. He witnessed the plight of the masses. Finally, he grew angry. His heart wept at the injustice of the world. He sought desperately to improve himself, so that he might one day lead his people. He strove to learn as much as he could, eschewing worldly desires, and eventually became known as one who sought to understand the workings of our world. Slowly, his ideas spread to all corners of the world. His innovations promised to transform society, but here he ran into his second crisis. His people deemed his efforts frivolous and wasteful. Why question Adinats gifts? they said. Why not be content with what we have?

The priest commanded every gaze within the temple at that moment.

At his wits end, Janak grew desperate. Though his people never accepted his social reformations, he persisted doggedly on. It was a path foreign to his people. His ideas went against their beliefs. But he knew that to be content was to stagnate. And Janak wanted only progress, for himself, and for society. Through time and toil, his unrelenting effort swayed their opinions.

Apramors voice grew louder and more vigorous as he spoke.

Time and time again, Lord Janak proved his worth to all! The philosopher king's ideas blossomed through the land and ushered a golden age upon humanity. And, upon his deathbed, surrounded by thousands of his weeping citizens, Adinat himself descended from the heavens to award Janak the honor of godhood!

He paused to look up at Vir, and, if he wasnt mistaken, nodded ever so slightly at him.

This is the true story of Janak. The story of one who knew failure. Who endured to find his own path through the darkness. Who, in the end, shone light upon his people and was loved by all

Vir understood. Sure, Janak may have been born with a silver spoon, but he threw everything away to pursue his own path. Vir wondered how Janak had mustered the courage to take his first step.

When the priest spoke again, his voice thundered through the temple.

The gods have chosen our destiny, but the responsibility is ours to pursue it through its many twists and turns. We will stumble. We will fall. There will be those who mock us when we inevitably fail.

Apramor locked eyes with Vir again. The intensity of the priests expression sent shivers down the young mans back.

But know this! There is no effort without failure. Know that it is not the critic who counts!

Only those who try and fail, again and again

Who pick themselves back up after they fall

Who persist, despite their flaws and many shortcomings

It is they who shall remain when all others abandon the path! It is they who attain the towering heights unimaginable by the common man!

So that their place shall never be among those cold and timid souls, who know neither victory, nor defeat.

The temple had gone so silent that Vir wondered whether the audience had asphyxiated. Because Vir almost had. Apramors every word felt like it carried the overwhelming weight of centuries of experience. It resonated with his very soul.

Prana scorned? So what? Hed find a way around it. Ashborn? Good. Hed use that to his advantage, too. He would persist. He would endure. And in enduring, he would grow strong.

Apramor let out a deep breath, as if clearing the heavy air that weighed down the halls of the temple.

In closing, let us give praise to the gods who bless us so. To Adinat, for creating this world we enjoy. And of course, to Yuma, for giving her lifeblood to our precious forest.

Mights well pray to Badrak too! Someone quipped, breaking the tension and prompting a round of chuckles from the villagers.

Truth. Wouldnt mind a bit o luck with all this talk of Kinjals and war and whatnot.

Here heere!

After a last prayer to the gods, Apramor dismissed the congregation, and the villagers filtered out one by one. Vir waited until most of them had left, then sneaked down and began putting away the cushions. Apramor watched on in silence until Vir finished.

Did you find todays congregation useful, Vir? the priest asked with a knowing look.

I know why you chose today to tell Janaks story, Vir said. I dunno how you knew, but I needed this. Thank you.

I am relieved, Apramor replied, his deep-set eyes twinkling. Celebrate this day, Vir. You only come of age once, after all.

Maybe. Father doesnt really like making a scene, though.

Apramors gentle expression melted into a frown. Hold your head high, Vir. Ignore the others. Your eyes and your complexion do not make you any less than the rest of us. Like Janak, you merely have your own path to follow. You need only to find it!

Thank you, sir, Vir replied, but he knew that being accepted by the village would take a monumental feat. It wouldnt happen soon, that was for sure. Not unless something cataclysmic happened first.The sourc𝗲 of this content no/v(𝒆l)bi((n))

The priest rummaged through his robe. That reminds me, I almost forgot to

Moooooorning. The priest was interrupted by a girl with flowing red hair whod tottered into the temple. She rubbed her eyes with one hand and precariously balanced a small brown box in the other.

You look like you just got out of bed! Vir laughed.

Scuz I did, she replied with a yawn. Here. For you. Maiya thrust the box toward Vir.

He reached out and grabbed the package before it could fall. Whats this? He asked, hefting the weighty item.

Your birthday cake! Was up all night baking it for you, she said with another enormous yawn.

What! You baked me a cake!? he said with a cracked voice. I mean, I couldnt haveI Maiya, Ive never even had a cake for my birthday. With the famine going on, this is

The girl cut off his words with a hug, leaving Vir awkwardly balancing the cake while she embraced him.

Happy Birthday, Vir. I know it isnt much, but feel better?

How did you Is it that obvious? Hed never understood how his best friend could read him so well.

Maiya didnt respond. She just hugged him tighter.

Maiya Thank you so much, he managed. Something wet rolled down his cheek. He hid his face, embarrassed.

With the famine, food costs had gone through the roof. Not even Apramor had this kind of coin to spare. It truly was an extravagant gift.

Why dont you two run along and enjoy that cake? Ill wrap up here, Apramor said. Oh, and as I was saying before my daughter so rudely interrupted, here you are. This weeks payment.

Vir took the bag of Imperium coppers from Apramor. Heavy, he thought. This is too much, sir.

My birthday gift to you. Youre officially an adult now, Vir. You have earned this.

Maiya grabbed Virs hand, all traces of her sleepiness gone. Lets go! Youre helping your old man in the woods today, arent you? Ill tag along! And I wanna know how the cake is. No lying and saying its good when its not, you hear?

Vir nodded, smiling. Of course, he lied. Hed never say it was bad, even if it was.

No matter how much the others disliked him, he could always rely on Maiya and her family to welcome him. And Rudvik and Neel. That was enough.

Maiya rushed out of the temple, dragging Vir behind her as he gingerly balanced the cake box.

And theyre off, Aliscia said, having emerged from the back room.

You shouldnt encourage him, Lisci, said Apramor.

His wife tilted her head. Meaning?

That boy will never know magic, the priest said. I only pray the day comes when he realizes he doesnt need it.

Aliscia shook her head. What he needs now is hope, Apra. If you squash his dreams, I fear you will rob him of something precious. Something irreplaceable.

Apramor gazed at Virs back, his lips taut. Im afraid Ive seen dreams die far too many times to place my faith in hope.