CHAPTER ASHBORN 432: WELCOME TO THE DEMON REALM (TWO)

Princess Ira Kin’jal awoke disoriented and confused. Where was she? On a bed—that much was obvious. She was alone in a tent-like structure. How had she gotten here? Where was everyone? Where had Maiya gone?

The sounds of voices and activity outside prompted her to rise to her feet. Finding a pair of slippers conveniently placed nearby, she slipped them on and left the tent.

Ira stopped cold. A thousand questions popped into her head, all at once. Why was the soil so red? So many people rushed around. Strange people, with red skin, though some were gray. Some had two arms, others four.

No, not people, demons.

The memories came flooding back. She’d been rescued by Maiya’s lover and brought to safety. To the Demon Realm.

Safety, Ira scoffed. To think the land of myth and terror would be a safer place than her own home…

Home—!?

What of the rebellion? Her people! How fared Riyan and Prince Sanobar? She needed to return. To reorganize the tattered shreds of her rebellion. To fight!

Fight whom, exactly? What hope was there for her now? Her fight was over. Her rebellion lost.

The mere thought sent her reeling, clutching the cloth of the tent’s fabric for balance.

Caught in a maelstrom of self-loathing and anguish, Ira stared blankly at the scene before her, watching the demons go about their tasks.

Idly, she noticed how not everyone moved with a purpose. There were many tents set up, and she caught the occasional child staring at her with suspicion.

Refugees. From Vir’s rebellion.

He succeeded where she did not. What did he possess that she lacked?

Ira didn’t even need to ponder the question. From the moment she met him to his display of power, Vir had an… aura about him. The calm confidence of a leader.

Ira had toiled over the years to cultivate that, yet Vir wore it so effortlessly. How long had he stood in front of a mirror, practicing?

Likely none. He was, unlike her, a natural-born leader. Full of charisma and the sort of genuine humility that attracted the very best souls like bees to honey. As if that wasn’t enough, that transformation of his…

Ira shuddered just thinking of it. The mild-mannered man had become the very manifestation of the tales humans told of demons. Ira was no mejai, and yet the sheer amount of magic that billowed from his body like a furnace flame. Had she been standing, she’d have undoubtedly fallen.

His presence reminded her of her father, and yet, the two were incomparable. Andros had the bearing of an omnipotent ruler. A man who forged his reputation through strength, willpower, and the legacy of his family. Groomed from birth to be a ruler. A king among kings.

Vir? He had none of that, yet his aura was in another realm entirely. It was not one any mortal—no matter how strong—could possess. His was that of a god.

A tiny piece of information Maiya had left out. Through her, Ira had gleaned a picture of Vir over the years. A hardworking boy who’d been forged into something more. No silver spoon. No lifelong grooming. Quite the opposite, in fact. Every lesson Vir learned, he learned on his own, through sweat and toil, and often in the face of extreme adversity. And now, that boy was about to become a king.

It had taken Ira some time to piece together that last bit, considering Maiya’s relationship with him and how she never once mentioned it. To her, he was the bullied boy she shielded in Brij. He was her faithful lover, always there in her direst times of need.

Listening to Maiya, one might think Vir the most normal, humble soul in the world.

And while he was the latter, no one could dare accuse him of the former. Until just yesterday, Ira would have laughed at the thought. Now? After barely ten minutes spent talking to him, she couldn’t help but agree with those who deified him.

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And now, the fate of her kingdom rested squarely upon his shoulders. If there was any hope left for her people, it was only through Vir’s aid. It was hope that diminished by the hour.

Yet how could she blame him? She’d have done the same in his position. Vir thought he held the fate of his clan in his hands, and he very well did. What he didn’t know was that the fate of the Human Realm rested in the decisions he’d make in the coming hours and days. Without him, Ira’s cause was lost.

Which made Maiya’s relationship with that entity all the more ridiculous. She was, perhaps, the only being in all the realms who could treat such a fearsome being so casually, let alone lecture him.

Did she not fear his power? Did she not realize he wasn’t the same? For all Maiya’s talents, for all her personal power, she’d never match up to a creature like that. Didn’t she see that?

Ira shook her head. As special as Vir was, their relationship was no less so. That much was clear just watching them for five minutes.

Ira’s rambling thoughts were interrupted as she found herself under the scrutiny of more and more eyes, and none of them belonged to the children. Ira felt the gazes the adults directed at her bore less suspicion and more deference.

Deference? Ira wondered. Why would these people respect me, of all people? Was it the way she looked?

Belatedly, Ira realized she was still wrapped in her bedsheet. Her cheeks flushed, and she was about to rush back into the tent when a voice called out.

“I take it this is your first foray into the Demon Realm?” The voice was melodic and pleasant, and something about it made Ira forget all about her wardrobe malfunction, compelling her to turn around.

When she did, she found what was perhaps the most gorgeous woman she’d ever seen. From her pale skin to her bottomless azure eyes to a tall physique that looked as though it had been sculpted from a block of pure marble, the woman bore not a single blemish on her, and this was no masterful makeup. In fact, Ira doubted she wore any at all.

Her flowing one-piece dress complemented her long, pristine hair, and while Ira’s hair was also a platinum blonde, it couldn’t compare to this woman’s. Not in length, quality, or sheen. In her left hand, she carried a rod that might have been the whitest thing Ira had ever seen.

Neither her outfit nor her accoutrements were even the slightest bit suggestive, yet it was all Ira could notice. Could a being this perfect truly exist?

“It-it is,” Ira said at last, realizing she’d been silent for far too long.

The tall lady smiled gently. “Quite the sight, is it not? I found the eternal sunset unsettling at first, but I must admit I’ve grown quite fond of it.”

“Eternal, is it?” Ira said, wrenching her eyes away from the gorgeous woman to gaze upon the red land. To think it was like this all the time... “What a strange place this is. Humans have all sorts of myths of this land. Yet I feel as though they fall short.”

“Is that right?” the woman asked.

Ira nodded. “Our imagination seems to end with horned monsters, killing and pillaging everything in sight. The stuff we tell our children to ensure good behavior. Be good, or the demons will get you! That sort of thing.”

The lady laughed, and even that came off as melodious. Ira wondered if she practiced behaving this way, or, like Vir, was simply a natural. Regardless, Ira felt some of her anxiety abate. Something about the white-haired woman put her at ease. Perhaps it was because she was the only other human around.

Come to think of it, why is she—?

“Did they mention the four arms?” The woman asked, interrupting Ira’s thoughts.

“That, at least, they got right,” Ira said with a chuckle. “No horns, though. Other than Vir’s, and his apparently only manifest when he uses his magic.”

“Indeed. Quite the transformation, that.”

“Certainly makes an impression,” Ira agreed. “Though as I see the children play and their parents watch over them, I’m struck by the feeling that demons are perhaps not so different from humans.”

Just then, a half-woman, half-snake creature slithered past, and Ira found her eyes bulging, mouth agape.

“Oh, yes, them,” Ashani said, smirking. “Did Vir tell you? They can shift forms at will! Quite the sight.”

Ira took a deep, long breath. “M-maybe the fear isn’t entirely unfounded,” she managed to say, unsure whether to believe the white lady about her words. “But size and, er, serpentine physiology aside, I believe what lies under is the same. Or, if not the same, similar enough that I do not feel alien in this place. More like… yes, a foreigner.”

“I feel much the same, though I’ve seen little of your realm,” the woman said. “And you’ve no need to worry. The nagas are the healers of the Demon Realm. Dedicated to restoration, not destruction. It was one of them who healed your burns, in fact.”

Ira glanced down at her pristine, sickly skin. The burns that ought to have disfigured her entire body had vanished without a single scar. What magic could do that? What was the person who wielded it like?

All the while, something about what the woman had said nagged at the back of her mind.

“Sorry,” Ira said, frowning. “But your words just now. You said you’ve not seen much of the Human Realm?”

“Indeed,” the woman said with a nod. “Your rescue was my first visit. I’d love to explore it thoroughly. Your city was breathtaking!”

Ira’s head spun. This made no sense. “Are you not—”

“Ah, Ashani! Was looking for you,” Maiya said, running up to them waving. “And Ira! You’re up! Good! I convinced Vir to allow us a quick trip to the Human Realm. I’ll be much more potent with my orbs and some armor, and we can pick up a Communication orb while we’re there. Plus, I was hoping to get an update on the situation back home.”

Ira opened her mouth, utterly confused.

Ashani? Why is that name so familiar?

Ira racked her mind, suddenly recalling Maiya’s words from before, when she’d awoken in the tent.

A living goddess from the Age of Gods—yes, she’s the Ashani you’re thinking of.

Ira froze. The world suddenly spun around her.

The person she’d been chatting with, the one she’d casually addressed like any other… was none other than a goddess of legend.