Kangassk heard the second worldholder snort behind his back in an attempt to stifle a burst of laughter.
Hey, cheer up! She gave you the stone, after all, Vlada patted his back again. Shes giving you a chance
Hmph! Like I need a snotty brat for a bride! with that being said in the most spiteful and offended manner Kangassk turned his face away.
The pocket dragon went for his evening walk to stretch his paws and wings a bit. He tried his luck at hunting for a while but the only game for him there were gnats nasty critters, hard to catch, no fun to eat so he switched to burning grass instead. The tiny dragonlighter must have felt mighty and powerful now, finally having something to defeat. The poisonous moongrass burned and shrivelled, blue smoke curled and danced around him as he spat his tiny bursts of fire back and forth.
Thats the lovely grass for you, Kangassk said to himself, all the gloomy thoughts and dark regrets summed up in one phrase. And I even kneeled to stroke it, like a fool
He counted that day among the bad ones, made a wish so the next day would be better, rolled himself up into his cloak, leaned against his chargas furry shoulder for a pillow, and went to sleep.
Chapter 5. Red eyes effect
The last Region they had to cross on their way to the North was Shamarkash. It took them two days to reach a proper road leading there, the very road Vlada and Kan had followed since Border and then left to enter the Burnt Region. It made a long detour to keep the travellers safe from the worst anomalies of No Mans Land; getting back to it was good news, at least Kangassk thought so.
That day they were finally not alone on their journey, the only downside of that fact being that the people they met had been terrified of them at first. To the five young traders armed with rusty swords and handmade crossbows, three strangers and two chargas looked like a mighty bandit army. The oldest of the traders was the same age as Kangassk, the other four were just kids. As to their goods, there wasnt much in the cart pulled by a sad scrawny donkey.
Its all honey, honey, the elder trader kept babbling non-stop, still nervous after the initial shock. Its our first time on the road. Our land is famous for its honey, you know, yes, it is. So we decided to sell some. Who else would if not us? Were the only youngsters in the village full of old people He fell silent for a few moments, then gasped as the realization struck him, Oh, where are my manners! My names Astrakh. These are my friends Yles, Will, and Ergen, and this is my little sister Klarissa.
The fifth trader turned out to be a girl dressed as a boy.
Do you even realize what youve got yourself into, kids? asked Vlada in a voice full of sincere pity.
Young, brave, stupid. Greenies. Children. Its an adventure to them, a childs play. Take your honey, ride to the nearest city, sell it, buy something cool, go back What can go wrong, really?
Is something wrong? wondered Astrakh. He saw the warrior woman frown at his words and the tall man behind her nod in a grim and menacing manner but he still had no idea what was going on.
Its a miracle that youre still alive, explained Vlada, that nobody has cut your throats yet.
Astrakh turned pale and swallowed nervously
Youd be an easy game even for a band of maskaks, Vlada continued. You have to join a big caravan, with guards and all, if you want to travel by the road with a load of goods. Going like this will get you killed! You have no idea how lucky you are
Fools are always lucky, Sereg put a word in too.
Astrakh quickly bowed to Vlada and her companions and called his little team of wannabe traders aside to have a word with them. The conversation they had was short and emotional, all frantic gestures and loud whisper. Several minutes later, Astrakh approached Vlada again; her, not Sereg. She mustve looked like the leader of the group to him or, maybe, seemed less scary that her grey-haired, tall, grim friend.
Please, begged the young trader, let us come with you to the nearest city. Well pay, I swear! As soon as weve sold the honey his last words sounded as pitiful as a kittens first meow.
We dont want your money, said Vlada, but well see you to the city What was its name, Sereg?
Handel.
Exactly. Once youre done with selling and shopping there, join a caravan. The other merchants will give you a hand, especially if you share some of your famous honey with them. They all know how hard it is in the beginning, so they help young people like you. Youll be alright, kids.
Thank you! Thank you so much! The poor boy looked so grateful! He was likely an inch from falling to his knees and kissing the ground Vlada stood on
Why? asked Sereg later, when they were back on the road with the young traders walking a dozen steps ahead of them.
I couldnt just leave the kids behind, Vlada shrugged.
Osaro, an old Wanderer I once knew, used to say, Kans shy voice joined the conversation, that all our deeds, good or evil, return to us in the end.
To Kangassks surprise, both worldholders turned their heads to him, gave him a long look, and nodded in approval without saying a single word.
Some other day, he would have been immensely proud of himself for something like this; today, he wasnt. He barely felt anything at all. The apathy, so unusual to Kan, seemed a heavy burden pressing unseen at his shoulders and made every step harder. What was going on with him? At first, he blamed his conscience that kept picking at him for his thoughts about Vlada back in Tammar and his fight with Sereg in the Dead Region, but no, there was something else. He felt sick
The Region of Shamarkash!
Kangassk found himself in the creaking, wobbly cart, comfortably seated among the honey pots with the Encyclopedia of No Mans Land in his hands. He read snatches from the book outloud, raising his voice high at the end of every phrase and flinging his arms like a madman. The audience two worldholders and five merchants laughed wildly.
The ancient poet named Malkonemershghan! Oh my, what a name! Well, that guy said:
This alien land I saw at dawn,
It was my morning dream.
Three fearsome blazing suns there shone,
Two clouds, with lights agleam
What kind of poem is that, I ask you? Kan commented boldly. Three suns! Was he drunk, that Malconemershghan, or what? He saw double no, triple!
The audience cheered and there, Kangassk woke up. What seemed naturally funny while he had been dreaming turned into complete nonsense on his waking up and made him cringe, blush, and wish to disappear. Also, he still felt sick.
Kan saw a patch of the dark, starry sky above his head, then the faces of the people surrounding him came into focus: Vlada, Sereg, and the merchants; all of them looked troubled.
Hes delirious now, said Klarissa, Astrakhs little sister.
Vladislava touched Kangassks brow.
Yeah, and hes burning up, she said and bit her lip, thinking. Any ideas, Sereg?
Well, there is not much we can do here without magic
Well, there is not much we can do here without magic
Magic! Astrakh exclaimed. Oh wow, youre mages! So why dont you just, you know, cast a healing spell or something?
Because, Sereg lowered his voice, were still deep in the No Mans Land. The healing spell may work, may fail, or may explode in my hands and incinerate everything in a hundred meters radius around it, its all chancy here. Want to risk it?
No Astrakhs head drooped.
Hey, Vlada waved her hand at them in an impatient gesture, stop it you two!
Maybe, we can still help him without magic? Klarissa spoke up, still as shy as ever. We have a bag of medicinal herbs with us. I can make him a potion and add some honey to shake off the fever.
Do that, Vlada said to the girl and then turned to Sereg. I think he caught something in the White Region. Come, lets talk in private.
Sereg nodded and stood up. Before following Vlada, he stopped to cast a glance at Kangassk. The boy lay on the ground, his eyes rolled back again, and frantically chanted Malconemershghans poems.
Vlada and Sereg walked along the stunted, dusty trees growing at the side of the road. The worldholders wanted to put enough distance between them and the mortals before speaking freely, unheard and unseen.
Sereg, said Vlada as soon at they stopped, Kangassks illness scares you, I can see it in your eyes. If it wasnt for you, Id think hed just caught a cold or his stomach hadnt got along with wayfarer rations and spring water; its his very first journey, after all But you
She put her hands on his shoulders in a long-forgotten gentle gesture. Sereg made a step back, startled like a man rudely awakened from his sleep, and turned away. He stood there for a while in complete silence, watching the stars twinkle in the dark sky and the sharp horn of the moon shine through the fleeting clouds. There is no way to look a tall man into the eyes when he doesnt want it, he just lifts his chin up and leaves you wondering below
Sereg, Vlada called to him in a quiet voice and added all of a sudden, Sergey
The Grey Inquisitor lowered his eyes to meet hers.
For ages, he spoke slowly, like in a dream, I havent heard this name It feels strangely nice to hear it again He sobered up. Your Kangassk is delirious, true. But that Malconemershghan he quotes is an old acquaintance of mine. This is what troubles me.
No, you cant remember him. Everything about this man is within your memory gap territory. Ive never told you about Malcon before for there had been no reason to disturb the past. Looks like Ill have to now. Well, know this: because of that man I burned down a city once. I also burned him. And, whats most important, his book.
What book?
Heh, the book Sereg craned his head with a sad half-smile. It was full of stupid little poems similar to those your little fool is reciting now.
I dont understand Vlada looked at Sereg in helpless bewilderment, her eyes wide open. The huge age gap between those two was evident now, only there was no one nearby to notice that.
These poems are a code. He wrote his book with the code. A book about non-magical interference. Malconemershghan was a genius, I give him that, one of my best apprentices ever and my favourite student. And I killed him, burned him down to ashes, along with his followers, his city, and the very memory of his existence. I had to. Otherwise, Omnis would have been a dead world now. You remember the Stygian spiders, dont you, Vlada?
Vladislava covered her face with her hands and slowly sank upon the ground. The silence around them was so heavy and deep Sereg could hear her heartbeat.
Not a long time ago, just about two thousand years, in the North, between the Sumo Mountains and the place where Fervida meets Gileda there was a great city. It had a name back then: Erhaben. Now, that name is long forgotten and the remains of Erhaben are marked as The City of Tricksters on the maps. No one goes there for there is nothing to see among the overgrown ruins and ancient dust.
Malconemershghan was a genius and a dreamer. The citizens of Erhaben loved him so much they chose him to rule over them. He promised to lead his people into a great future, and he kept his word, working day and night to make his great dream come true.
He discovered the primal force with which Omnis had been created by the worldholders, the force that, unlike magic, needed no stabilizers, the force undisturbed by the anomalies of No Mans Land. If anyone succeeded in mastering it, they would be able to move mountains with their will alone.
Malconemershghan dug deeper into that matter. He spoke of the primal world where the worldholders had come from, the world where every single person was their equal and the primal force of creation ran freely. Thats how his great dream was born, a dream of sharing the power of worldholders with the people of Omnis, a dream of the Golden Age.
The shining dream had blinded him. He could not even conceive the non-magical force to be dangerous but dangerous it was; so dangerous, in fact, that the worldholders themselves refused to use it. What used to be harmless in a newborn world full of primal chaos became deadly and destructive as the world matured and entered the realm of order and balance.
Malconemershghan refused to hear of it; his apprentices, inspired by their masters dream, would not hear of the possible danger as well. Crazy poems were being chanted on every corner of the great city, disrupting the balance.
Sereg had come in time, almost in time to save the day Omnis had survived, the order prevailed, but the balance remained unstable even five years after the fall of Erhaben. And when the charred ruins of the Tricksters city had been already overgrown with grass and the world seemed safe again, hordes of unimaginable, alien creatures flooded Omnis: the Stygian spiders, as people would call them later. It was no war, it was slaughter, a bloodbath. Who were these creatures? Where had they come from? Were they indeed alien invaders that came to prey on the weakened world? Were they the last creation of Malcon and his followers, blinded by hatred and revenge just as much as they used to be blinded by the golden dream? There is no answer still
Vlada, hes crying! the traders complained to her when she returned to them with Sereg in tow.
And yes, Kangassk was crying his eyes out. He lay on the ground, covering his face with one hand and grasping his soothstone with the other.
Vladislava touched his brow.
No more fever, she said, reassuringly. Just tears Hey, Kangassk, speak to me. Tell me what you saw.
When Kangassk found out that the nightmare was over, he sighed with relief. The moment of joy was very brief, though, for as soon as he opened his eyes he became aware of his tears and saw the pity on the faces of the traders around him.
They and not just they, the worldholders too! had been watching him cry like a baby for who knows how long! It was a disgrace poor Kan had no idea how to ever wipe out. He was so ashamed with himself he wished the earth would just swallow him up.
Kangassk wiped the tears from his face with a dirty hand and struggled to his feet. First of all, he glanced around the assembled company to make sure no one was going to crack a joke. No one was. Good! Slightly encouraged by the polite silence, Kan decided to answer Vladas question.