1
" They're on display. Indi's making sure her body catches the light as it changes colour off his smartatt reads, always a spectacular angle, never missing a beat, turning and placing his partner in an impressive sequence of positions, switching every few minutes in response to some internal timer, performing as ever for whoever his audience is: does he see his own life in third-person? Their bodies are impeccable, their movements in perfect sync, he wants to give them full marks, share, subscribe. This isn't their first time, and he has many questions: is this another Flow that they're secretly recording, or is this how the audience-obsessed behave even when they're alone? "
― Samit Basu , The City Inside
2
" And you say the songs will not sing of you!’ cried Asvin. ‘Even if what you say is true – if my dreams have come true and I can achieve what you think I might – you will be the true leader of the forces of Good.’
The Civilian took a deep breath. ‘Try not to use that word, Asvin. It makes me feel ridiculous. Danh-Gem was not evil. He was a power. He lost. The historians used to call him the Dark Lord, or the Prince of Darkness, or The Nameless One, or something equally foolish. I made sure they called him Danh-Gem. It does not matter if he was a rakshas. At least, that is what I believe. You will not find words like Evil in the history books of Kol. But that too may change.
‘Ask any asur who the most evil person in the world is, and they will say ‘Temat of Kol’. The same Temat of Kol who allows them to work in a city full of prejudice and hate. They did not follow Danh-Gem in madness or fear. And if he wins this round, the new histories will probably chronicle the fall of evil – and that evil, Asvin, will be you and I.’
‘I have much to learn at Hero School,’ said Asvin, blinking. "
― Samit Basu , The Simoqin Prophecies (GameWorld Trilogy, #1)
5
" Just ask me anything you can think of,’ said Gaam kindly.
The Sphinx leaned forward. ‘What have I got in my pockets?’ she asked, an insane glare in her eyes.
‘That’s not a riddle, that’s a question!’ said Gaam indignantly.
‘Well, you said she could ask you anything,’ said Erkila smoothly. ‘So you have to answer her. But I admit it’s a little strange. Where did you get this riddle?’ she asked the Sphinx.
‘I don’t remember. Possibly from someone I ate,’ murmured the Sphinx. ‘Well, mortal?’
‘Are you sure you want me to answer your riddle?’ asked Gaam.
‘Of course.’
‘And you will let me go if I answer correctly?’
The Sphinx shot a look at Erkila, watching them calmly. ‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Very well. When I saw you first, I noticed that like all Sphinxes, you are half woman and half lioness. Also, like all Sphinxes, you do not wear clothes. Since you do not wear clothes, you have no pockets. Therefore, you cannot possibly have anything in your pockets.’ He bowed. ‘A somewhat impulsive question, if I may say so.’
‘There’s no need to gloat,’ grumbled the Sphinx. She padded off, leaving Gaam with Erkila. "
― Samit Basu , The Simoqin Prophecies (GameWorld Trilogy, #1)
9
" HE HAD BEEN trained in a hidden monastery by the ninjas of Xi’en. He had studied yoga and meditation under an Avrantic guru. His strength, stamina and ability to withstand pain were legendary. He was as silent as a shadow of a black cat in the night, as deadly as a cobra’s fang. He moved like a panther, taut and sinuous. He could climb up rock-faces with his bare hands and stay underwater for hours without breathing. His skill and luck at love and cards was legendary, and he had almost beaten the Civilian at chess once.
He was wondering what to wear.
When in doubt, Black is the answer, the dance teacher in Ektara had said.
He dressed, swiftly. It had been a long time since he had worn the original costume. Black silk clothes, padded boots. The cloth around the face, with slits for his eyes. The fire-resistant Xi’en lava-worm black silk cape. Of course, disguises and camouflage were fun, and often necessary, but this was his favourite.
He strapped on his Necessity Belt. He had been all around the world and seen many beautiful things, but this was the finest example of vaman craftsmanship he had ever seen. He opened a trunk under his bed and started thinking about his assignment. His fingers, trained by years of practice, began sliding things into the right pockets on his belt.
Into the little sheaths went the darts, the crossbow bolts and the blackened throwing knives. With practiced ease his fingers found the little pouches, side by side, one after the other, for the wires, the brass knuckles, the vial of oil, the sachet of poisonous powder and the shuriken, the little blackened poisoned-tipped discs the ninjas used. On his back was the slim bag that contained a little black chalk, his stamp and his emergency scarab. If he was killed or captured, it would fly to the Civilian. The message inside said Killed or captured. Sorry.
He slung a pouch over his shoulder. It contained his blowpipes, ropes, strangling cords and cloth-covered grappling hooks. Over his other shoulder went the light and specially constructed crossbow. The flat bag filled with what he called his ‘special effects’ went on his back.
He felt a little naked.
He strapped on little black daggers in sheaths to his left arm and outer thighs. He tapped his left foot thrice on the floor and felt the blade slide to the front of the boot. He tapped again and it slid back to the heel. (...)
He slipped on his gloves. Finally, he picked up the sheath that contained his first love. It was the one love he’d always been faithful to, the long, curved, deadly and beautiful Artaxerxian dagger that glittered and shone even in the candlelight as he pulled it out and held it lovingly. It was the only weapon he had never blackened.
The Silver Dagger.
He attached it to the Necessity Belt.
Now he was dressed to kill. "
― Samit Basu , The Simoqin Prophecies (GameWorld Trilogy, #1)
12
" Of course, some adjustments had to be made [to heroic quests]. For example, when a giant sea serpent had been spotted idling in the ocean, no doubt scouting for a pleasant coastline to ravage, they had known it would attack a maiden tied to a rock. The only problem had been getting a maiden to volunteer to be tied to a rock. No one in Bolvudis particularly wanted to end up inside a sea serpent’s stomach. Asvin had been very surprised, until Gaam had explained that it was not always the case that a hero’s mere presence would cast all damsels in the area into perilous predicaments he could rescue them from. Most of the rescues in the legends were, Gaam said, either fictitious or pre-arranged, and hardly ever sheer coincidence or fate. In the end a grumbling Maya had let herself be tied to a rock while Asvin, sword in hand, prowled the beach.
The fact that the serpent’s arrival had created a huge wave that had swept Gaam and Asvin far away and Maya had had to burn off her ropes and kill the monster on her own was, they all agreed, best kept secret. "
― Samit Basu , The Simoqin Prophecies (GameWorld Trilogy, #1)
