Black Avatare

43 | DESCENT

The impact knocked the air out of her lungs, and multiple bruises flared up, though it couldn't trump the sharp sting in her wounded hand. Binara instinctively snapped up her head, eyes fixed on the moonlit opening above.

She was in a pit. All around were earthen walls that made her claustrophobia bubble up.

She wanted to kick herself for not considering the possibility that the place could be booby-trapped. At least she was not impaled on a pike.

There was little time to ponder her predicament, since heavy footsteps approached her. She stilled as each thump sent her heart tumbling against her ribcage.

A dark shape eclipsed the light, and blue eyes glinted down. Even from the silhouette, she could tell that the stranger was bigger than the average human—a giant clad in clothing that belonged to a bygone era. Without a doubt, this was an Asura.

Gruff words boomed down, though the language was unlike any she had heard before. It was akin to a throat chant, weighted words issuing from a deep well of a throat. It was definitely not the proto-language that Diyan used with Garuda, which she had come to understand as the common tongue of Holmanloke.

A long silence descended, pressing on her like an oppressive veil. Fear mingled with uncertainty and coiled around her insides, squeezing mercilessly.

Binara found her voice and used her limited vocabulary of the common tongue. "My name is Binara. I'm King Mayadunne's descendant."

The Asura watched her, and she could almost feel his eyes drilling holes in her. His heavy-set build slackened.

She cleared her throat and continued, "I seek your help."

"A human maiden?" the Asura asked in the common tongue, inflected with an accent. "Mayadunne's descendant, no less? Impossible."

"It's true." She got to her feet, and desperation made her glare up at him. "I came all this way."

The Asura shifted and scrutinized her again. Moonlight outlined a stone block of a face, lined with wrinkles. The head was small relative to the torso and completely bald. Runes covered what she could see of the skin, like intricate scars, and a bushy beard formed a halo, coarse and white.

After a heavy sigh, he withdrew, and Binara squinted against the light. Wait, is he gonna leave me here to rot? Her eyes darted up the walls of the pit, but there was barely anything she could use to climb up.

"Wait, come back!" Binara punched a fist on the wall—compact earth that didn't yield. "Mahasona is attacking Hevana again! He's already—"

A thick rope cascaded down.

She stared at it. Then she slowly wove it around her torso, careful not to aggravate her bitten hand.

As soon as she was done, the rope grew taut, pulling her up. Diyan's voluminous cloak hung down in folds, swaying with each minute jerk. Binara held onto the rope until she emerged above ground.

"You are loud for a maiden your size," the Asura said, picking up a mace lying by his feet. "My name is Dvaramur. Follow me."

Binara glowered at him and hurried to keep up.

Dvaramur picked his path through the undergrowth as he led her to the doorway to his abode. Binara eyed the giant being in wonder. Each of his footfalls thumped the ground, muffled by footwear made of organic materials. A beaded mesh covered his chest, leaving the bulging shoulders bare, while coarse fabric encased his legs, forming loose folds.

The behemoth of a door was grander than ever up close, gleaming under the moon. When she expected him to take her right up to it, he veered towards the trees. She soon saw why. Tucked away beyond sight was a boulder that Dvaramur moved aside with an almighty push. A dark doorway yawned, just big enough to accommodate an Asura. It dredged up the memory of Manju's secret passageway.