Page 45 of The Enduring Universe
IRAVAN
He was kneeling on the floor, lacing his boots, when Dhruv’s voice made him look up.
“You cannot be leaving again,” the sungineer said with exasperation from the entrance. “There are things you need to attend to.”
Dhruv stood ramrod straight, tension in every muscle of his lanky frame. Dark circles etched grooves underneath his eyes, visible beneath his glasses. His clothes were rumpled, evidence of the long nights he had been working both in Irshar and the Garden, and Iravan would have been sympathetic in another time, but he had spent such long nights all his life, and now the fate of the world rested on his shoulders. Dhruv was not alone in his exhaustion. Iravan felt it in every breath.
He rose from the ground and strode over to the chair where he’d draped his feather cloak. “My task is in the jungle,” he replied.
He had been away for several days already, returning only to sleep and bathe. Part of it had been the urgency to find the yakshas, but another part was a desire to stay away from his chambers. Ever since the encounters with Ahilya, then Tariya, Iravan had beenwary of his own home. Seeing Ahilya and the remains of a broken civilization was bad enough, but the conversation with Tariya had utterly shaken him, all of them a reminder of his material bonds.
There was a reason those bonds had trapped architects for centuries—they were seductive, even he could not resist their pull. The best he could do was distance himself from the ashram. What would happen to his vow to destroy the Virohi if he indulged this way? He would be no better than his past lives—and he could feel their insistence burgeoning within him, to redeem them and himself. He needed to keep his vision true. It was the only thing he could trust.
Iravan swept his cloak over his shoulders, feeling its familiar weight. He did not need the cloak for the jungle, not when he could manipulate the everpower, but there was no sense in using the power unnecessarily. The jungle was always cold, and this time he would not return for days.
He brushed past Dhruv into the hallway leading to the courtyard below. Dhruv kept pace, scowling.
“There’s trouble in Irshar—”
“That I authorized you to deal with,” Iravan interrupted. “Irshar is your affair, is it not?”
“Are the Ecstatics my affair too?” Dhruv snapped. “I don’t remember you giving me authority over them.”
Iravan turned to look at his Senior Sungineer. Dhruv returned his gaze levelly. There was a time when the sungineer had been polite to Iravan, then caustic, until finally they’d come to an understanding where they set their mutual dislike aside, knowing their successes depended on the other. Iravan was under no illusions that the man still despised him. Dhruv was only in the Garden because it gave him his best opportunity to advance his sungineering—something Dhruv cared deeply about, even if humanity had all but arrived atthe end of its time. Iravan could understand such single-minded determination.
It was why he never interfered in Dhruv’s work. Yet Dhruv’s gaze was expectant, even belligerent.
Iravan sighed. “Perhaps you should tell me what has occurred.”
“Yes. Perhaps I should,” Dhruv said. He gestured with his head, and began to walk away, down the path that led to the training hall. Iravan followed slowly. “We sent a group of Ecstatics to Irshar to help with their rebuilding,” Dhruv began. “They happened to meet their families. An incident occurred.”
Darsh, Iravan thought, his heart suddenly racing.
“What happened?” he asked. It was all he could do to keep his voice calm, but his pace became faster so that it was Dhruv trying to match him suddenly.
The sungineer gave him a sidelong glance. “What you’d expect. Anger and outbursts. Yelling. It started with the Ecstatics trying to convince their families to come to the Garden with them, then quickly became an uncontrollable display of power. They’re all reporting it differently, but some of our architects used Ecstasy on the citizens there. Trying to traject them, I believe. Pranav put an end to it, but not before the Ecstatics shattered some homes, and ruined precious belongings.” Dhruv took a deep, unsettled breath. “They’re going rogue.”
This had always been the danger of uncontrolled Ecstatics—it was why they had been outlawed. Ecstatics by their very nature, were wild, keeping to few rules of harmony and accord, overcome by seeking their yaksha. Iravan had been in their place not too long ago. He and Dhruv strode in silence until they reached the training hall.
Constructed within the lowermost tier of the Garden, the training hall was a massive chamber with plants of every varietygrowing over walls and trellises, leading to the very center where Iravan had made a clearing. Ordinarily, Senior Ecstatics educated the newer recruits there, and on rare occasion Iravan held personal classes. Now, Pranav, Trisha, and Darsh surrounded three architects. Several others crowded around them, but as they noticed Iravan, they made way.
Naila was there too, and she studied him impassively, though there was a wealth of judgement in her expression. It irritated Iravan more than he could say. No matter his power, Naila had refused to accept a change in their relationship—seeing him as the mentor he’d once been. In her deadpan gaze now, he could see how short he was falling in her estimation. Is this why Irshar had sent her? She was as bad a reminder of everything as Tariya and Ahilya were. Material bonds were infiltrating his home.
Iravan stopped in front of the three Ecstatics, Dhruv halting next to him. He did not know their names, but he could see the guilt written all over their faces.
He pinched the bridge of his nose with a forefinger and thumb. “Tell me you did not go seeking trouble with the citizens of Irshar,” he said quietly.
The three rogue Ecstatics exchanged uncomfortable glances. “They’re standing in our way,” one of them blurted out, an architect with mud all over their sleeves. “They could join us here, theyshouldjoin us—we are architects, we saved them once—”
“You caused this once,” Iravan said. “You created an earthrage by your very existence. You are supposed to be making amends to Irshar.”
“Like you are?” another Ecstatic scoffed. “You have broken your material bonds. Why shouldn’t we? We see how you behave with your wife. Is that how we are to make amends? If so, we’re doing it the same way.”
A silence rang through the people assembled. Dhruv stilled. Naila smiled a brittle smile, and a memory flashed in Iravan’s head vividly, of a time when she had come to him in Nakshar’s library, hoping to proposition him. After all this time, after everything that had occurred, this is what it always came down to. His treatment of Ahilya.
It doesn’t change, he thought.The way they judge me because of Ahilya. The way they see themselves despite knowing the truth of their origins.He’d tried his hardest to sow reverence in their minds for complete beings. He hadn’t been naïve enough to believe that simply sharing the truth would change their minds about their superiority, about their culpability in the destruction of lives—but somehow, he hadn’t thought they’d go as far as to seek trouble.This is why I have to control their capital desire, he thought, growing cold.This is why I must break their consent.It was why he needed to find the yakshas, before one of them did.
The Ecstatic who’d spoken sneered at Iravan.
