Elinor. The Deserted Valley. Book 1 - Mikhail Shelkov

Elinor. The Deserted Valley

Book 1

Mikhail Shelkov

© Mikhail Shelkov, 2019

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The Deserted Valley

Author: Mikhail Shelkov

Table of contents

Prologue

Part 1. The Ways And The Paths

Chapter 1. Lion Constellation

Chapter 2. The Essence Of The Warrior.

Chapter 3. From The Wilderness To The Light

Chapter 4. The Deprived From The Skies

Chapter 5. The Lily Pearl

Chapter 6. The Secrets Of Golems

Chapter 7. Airy Deer

Chapter 8. The Justice Clan

Part 2. The Secret of The Deserted Valley

Chapter 1. Old Owl

Chapter 2. The Iron Souls

Chapter 3. The Vambraces Of Innocence

Chapter 4. Min-Mirif

Chapter 5. On The Edge Of The War

Chapter 6. The Contraband

Chapter 7. Take The Dead

Chapter 8. The Darkness Above The Valley

Chapter 9. The Fifteen Brave Ones

Chapter 10. Adeje-Vinomes

Chapter 11. Fire And Ashes

Chapter 12. The Thunder Rumbled

Chapter 13. The Caravans Stopped

Chapter 14. The Hidden and The Obvious

Chapter 15. The Treasure Of Aldego

Chapter 16. Umar Amatt

Chapter 17. To Each His Own

Chapter 18. The Flesh Of The Demon

Chapter 19. The Black Shaman

Chapter 20. Shoulder To Shoulder

Chapter 21. The Healers

Chapter 22. Calm And Freedom

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

A wise man, whose name unfortunately has been forgotten, said that the journey of a thousand leagues begins with a single step.

My journey started well over a month ago, and nobody knows when it will end  not a single person. Perhaps it is only the sublime stars on the canvas of the night sky that know  those stars which I wholeheartedly love. But even if they do know, they will hardly reveal it.

I left my family, my home and my heart tells me that this time, Ill be gone for a long time, perhaps forever.

Great Asters! What nonsense, indeed I keep telling myself. I am no longer that same impressionable girl who admired the wide and many-faced world. The world that carries the name Elinor. Now I am a teacher and mentor to such girls. But for some reason (it might be that my hunch is awakening, a hunch that has never lied to me; or that old childhood dreams never died, but only subsided), I believe that my journey will not just be long, but great. And yes, Ill write it. It will end at the Edge of the World.

Oh, sandy depths! At last, I admitted it to myself

Well, it is likely that in half a century, this diary will be read by my grandchildren who will smile to themselves, although not in the open  for it is indecent  about the erstwhile dream of their grandmother, who at the time will be quietly rocking in her chair, trying to embroider patterns on their robes with a large needle in her shaking hands.

What am I talking about? As though I dont regret wasting neither ink, nor paper, nor my time! It is better to get to the point!

Today turned out to be a day off. The owner of the caravan is unwell  he probably overate again in the heat. Therefore, everyone  merchants, warriors, and my students  are spending the day under the shelter of the tents, set up in a small oasis.

There are a few trees here, but there is a stream and a rocky ridge, so the heat is not felt, and the break is truly enjoyable. It is strange that no one has built an outpost next to the oasis with a camel yard and teahouse yet.

As though we are not following the main tract!

But according to an astronomers calculations (a real astronomer!), in a couple of weeks we will reach our final destination.

I will finally contemplate the Valley of the Ancestors  the heart of Elinor!

The Valley of the Ancestors or, as many say, the Valley, is where life began. It was from the Valley of the Ancestors that the new people of the Third Race dispersed throughout the lands of Elinor and settled there. It was then that a man named Tosho, who became emperor and subsequently acquired immortality, led likeminded people to the north; it was then that the Valleys migrants went into the deep forests where they met the Ved tribe and founded the Vedich nation; it was then that the father-founder of our glorious Djunitian people, the great Marawie, led people into the endless desert.

And now the people of the desert are returning to the Valley. It is like a time rotation.

Emperor Tosho founded the Itoshinian nation, from which came two more races, the Ulutau and the Tuasmatus. The Taurs evolved from the Vedichs, and the Guawars evolved from the Djunits. Only the carefree Chekatta remained in the prairies near the Valley of the Ancestors.

The Valley itself and its Great Cities of Dalaal, Konolwar, Eavette, and Mata-Mata were fragrant with life in the heart of the Elinor, at the crossroads of trade routes, at the junction of customs and cultures of people who had become so different from each other, so unique. Though the Valley had always been a separate state, it would nonetheless welcome any visitors from distant lands. Every inhabitant of the Valley now associated him/herself with some nation, still primarily remaining a resident of the Valley, a sort of representative of the Ninth nation, a collective image of all the people of Elinor.

Perhaps this is the essence of existence? Parents raise their children, care for them, protect them but they eventually lose their power, become senile, and then the grown-up and established children must take care of their parents.

Similarly, the Valley gave birth to and brought up eight nations. But at a certain point, it died. The Valley had become deserted. And now the children of the Valley, the representatives of the eight nations, have hit the road to resurrect their mother  to fill her with life. Our caravan is heading north to bring to the Great Cities the necessity  people. Many caravans took off several months ahead of us and many will follow.

From distant lands, from the remaining seven nations, other envoys head to the Valley. Soon, I will meet again the Taurs, Guawars, Itoshins, and Mechanicum, who I havent seen for a long time. I look forward to getting to know the Ulutau and Chekatta, who I have never seen in my life, and so much more! And the Vedichs! The Vedichs themselves! The people who can shape-shift into the beasts of the forest! However, none of the venerable scientists have confirmed this, and those sources that even the most distinguished historians have relied upon seem quite dubious. But thats how the legends go, and I myself am not sure if Im inclined to believe them or not.

Here I write about what I am waiting for, what will happen in the future. I write about the future, as it is meaningless at present to write about the present.

Tomorrow, if Khatum Tangut wins over his indigestion, a procession of camels, which belong to him, will once more stretch towards the horizon through the yellow sands carrying with them, warriors, merchants, and myself with my students.

In the desert, interesting things rarely happen; all the days are alike. To come across an oasis is great luck, but hardly can such a meeting be equated with an extraordinary event. Now, meeting the scorpio-angler or a school of sand dragons  that is a whole different story! Every night I pray to the stars for these meetings not to happen on our way. The soldiers guarding the caravan are arrogant and conceited, and the desert does not forgive such attitudes. It is unlikely that their strong bodies hold as strong a spirit.

Fortunately, both the anglers and dragons have long ago ceased to dwell near the trade routes. People, though slowly, are beginning to prevail in this war that has lasted for many centuries.

I do not know what else I should write about.

As I said before, writing about soldiers, merchants, and cameleers is silly.

About my disciples? They are ordinary children. Sometimes they bring me joy; sometimes, sorrow. Sometimes they delight in things, other times they upset themselves. They try to endure the hardships of camp life in the Great Desert. To some, it comes easy, to others it is difficult. Almost an adult, Calif constantly helps me and Lamis. Its so good that he is near. He is no longer a boy, almost a man. The other students can be left to his care for a while. The girls have to be soothed every day and be told about the beautiful life in the Valley. Then they cease to moan and require so much attention. I understand them, although I have never been like them myself. They are the girls of noble families, used to houses with light walls and green gardens nearby, and not to the eternal heat and fiery air of the day and tangy cool of the night. In this regard, the boys are simpler, but with them there are other problems. One runs around all day long with a miniature sword, killing scorpions; another picks up all the prickles on the road to investigate them; and someone tries to start a fight with a peer But Im used to them. And I love them; I love them as their mentor.

Maybe I can become a good teacher. Mother is sure to approve the idea of school education becoming the main profession of my life. But then Ill go mad from boredom. My path is different.

Then what else should I write about?

Ive said enough about myself in the preceding pages.

I am trying to keep a diary the way it should be done by any Djunitian researcher who has self-respect. So I was taught by my father.

Father, Father

You wouldve been proud of me

I know that you are proud of me!

I believe in our impending meeting!

I am definitely not in the mood to write more. That is all for today!

Jumanna Inaiya Khaniya Amatt

J. I. Kh. A., 4th day of the Elephant month, the year 531, era IV

This History of Elinor is an appendix to the book. Both the author of the book, and compiler of this diary strongly recommend that you read it before reading the main body of this book to learn more about the history, geography, life, and culture of states in Elinor and people inhabiting the continent.

Part 1. THE WAYS AND THE PATHS

CHAPTER 1. Lion constellation

1

Lamis finished writing. A sharp gust of dry wind broke in, throwing a handful of fine sand on the pages of the diary. The young woman shook off the sand, blew on the manuscript, and shut the diary. She closed the jar of ink and hid the writing feather. Tired from writing, she stretched her beautiful long bronze fingers as Moualdar, a gloomy boy of twelve years, ran into the tent. He came up close, hanging his head.

Im bored, he grumbled.

You can go feed the camels. The caravanners are always happy to be helped.

I dont want to Im scared of camels, his voice squeaked, reminding the young caretaker that the apprentice, despite his visage, was still just a boy.

His facial features are of an adult, yet he asks for attention enough for three kids to share.

By then Calif had also appeared under the canopy of the tent.

Calif was tall and stately. From the first glance, it was obvious he was a future warrior. Something in him was reminiscent of the young caretakers brother, only her brothers hair was short and straight, while Califs was long and curly. Moreover, Califs eyes were not as stern. His figure was still one of a strong young man, but not yet a weather-beaten warrior.

It would be great if one day Calif came to learn the art of war from her brother!

But now Calif was headed to the Valley with her. And it was with him that the caretaker was pleased the most. As the eldest, he was always ready to help; he respected her and helped to monitor the disciples.

Honorable Tangut Khatum said that he is better, so tomorrow at dawn, we are advancing! said Lamis.

Do you need any help? Calif immediately blurted out.

Yes! All the minor problems were solved at once. Collect the totes! she said to Calif, then looked at Moualdar. And you go help!

The boy snorted discontentedly. Obviously, this was not how he wanted to dispel his boredom.

During the encampment, the disciples were allowed to devote the day to the classes of their choice, and completely unpack their hiking knapsacks. Yet the sun was already swiftly rolling towards the horizon; its rays no longer carried as much of the sizzling heat. Evening was approaching. It was time to get ready for the journey, so as not to bustle about during the morning gathering, but rather, after having leisurely broken their fast, to pack up the caravan and set off without delay.

Lamis, the faithful assistant, withdrew, dragging with her the disgruntled Moualdar. The well-mannered Calif turned to his caretaker and just before leaving made a traditional courteous bow. The canopy of the tent swung closed.

A smile lit up the young womans face.

Hes an absolute miracle!

Now it was necessary to bring all the disciples together, announce that the encampment would not be prolonged, and remind everyone to fill their waterskin bags to the brim with water.

Though Ill still have to check before we set off these are children. They see the world differently. Some still dont understand what a dangerous place it is, they dont understand there are no parents here who will blow the sand off them, or that though their caretaker is strong and brave, she is not unlimitedly sturdy  I will not be able to carry a separate bota bag for each of them. It will be useful if, from this passage through the Great Desert, everyone learned a certain lesson for themselves. The lesson that no school can give, the lesson that only life teaches.