What happened to you? he asked, trying to sound as calm and confident as he could.
They killed mommy whispered the child, his voice gone, probably from crying so loudly.
Who?
Theyre scary, evil! With long teeth! There! the boy pointed his finger somewhere beyond Balas back.
Stay here and be very quiet, said Bala. He stood up and unsheathed his sword. Ill go have a look
NO!!! Bala, dont!!! That was Kostas cry. One could only guess what that kind of effort it had cost him. Step away from it!!!
Surprised and startled, Bala turned back to the child. And recoiled instantly in horror, with his sword in front of him
The mask of the human child now thrown away, the creature that had lured Bala here started to change into its real form. The eyes, blue and teary the second before, turned glassy and black. A heavy brow overhung them now. The nose sunk into the skull and turned into a narrow slit. The corners of the mouth stretched almost to the ears, revealing two rows of pointy teeth bending inward a deathly trap for any prey. The kids arms lost their gentle appearance, they stretched and twisted, turning into grabby paws with long, clawed fingers.
The only thing that remained unchanged was the former boys ruffled fair hair that now crowned the creatures ugly head.
A recent memory flashed in Balas mind, answering his silently screaming question: morok. That was all he had managed to think of before a wave of horror paralysed him. Now, he could not even run away.
Bala had no idea what had bought him and Kosta those several precious seconds that changed everything; why the monster hadnt jumped at the paralysed prey right away: it was the sword. Bala still clutched his katana in his hands, he hadnt dropped it even in the face of the No Mans Land horror. Moroks are not stupid, they know well how dangerous human weapons can be. So the monster hesitated, just a moment, but that was enough for Kosta to reach Bala and stand between him and the shapeshifter.
In an attempt to buy himself some time to catch his breath, Kosta looked into the monsters eyes, sending it an unspoken challenge. His heart pounded so fast he could hear it over all other sounds. His hands trembled. But he felt no fear. The fear that had been torturing Kosta for weeks, was gone now. Young Ollardian felt more confident than ever now when everything fell into place. And he was ready.
Furious with the little humans challenge, the morok answered with another wave of horror that washed over Kosta without any harm but made Bala lose his mind, drop his sword and fall to his knees crying.
Kosta stood his ground. Between his friend and the monster. He deliberately kept his hands off his sword to send a message: Im ill, Im weak, Im unarmed, come and get me. But the morok was old and experienced enough not to fall for this trick. Instead of jumping at Kosta, he threw another horror wave at him, perfectly aware of Kostas immunity to it: the monsters target was Bala.
Kosta didnt see what was happening to his friend but he heard Balas cry. That cry no longer resembled a sound of a human being, that cry was a primal, animal signal of agony. It was as clear as day: Bala would not survive another wave. So Kosta had to make the first move and the morok was ready
Bala saw only the end of the battle, only then his sanity returned to him along with his ability to control himself. The morok had no armour on it but still took Kosta three precise hits to kill the monster. Even mortally wounded, it was strong, aggressive and dangerous. Every time Bala thought that it was dead, the monster attacked again.
All Kostas training, all his talent, all his ambasiaths power went into that battle, fitted into mere seconds that seemed as long as life. Everyone knew Kosta Ollardian as a shy, sickly kid who would never hurt a fly. Now, Bala had a glimpse of a very different Kosta: a methodical, merciless monster slayer. He played the role to the end, for after the battle was over, he didnt fall to his knees exhausted and terrified, no. He proceeded with destroying the morok completely by cutting its heart out of its chest and trampling it on the ground until it stopped beating. And then Kostas coughing returned with redoubled strength.
Kostas legs gave way under him, he dropped his sword, bent double, and sunk to the ground. He coughed and coughed, spitting out chunks of something black. In the end, the black became liquid, then the liquid turned red. Only then the coughing stopped.
Kosta wiped his bloody mouth with his sleeve, got up, and raised his face to the sun. He was smiling; the colour returned to his cheeks; the horrible disease was no more.
Bala sheathed his sword and approached Kosta.
Are you hurt? he asked, desperately trying to find the answer for himself, but there was too much blood on the young Ollardian both his own and his enemys to know for sure.
No, answered Kosta. For the first time since the very beginning of their journey, Bala heard Kostas real voice, unchanged by wheezing or panting. It was a very pleasant voice: childish, clear, kind. And you?
Im fine Bala lowered his eyes. Forgive me for being a burden
There was nothing you could do, Kosta reassured him. Moroks are masters of manipulation, both psychological and magical. You had no chance of winning. It usually takes a battle Seven to kill a monster like this one.
Bala glanced at the monster. Now, when the morok was dead, Bala was afraid that its body would take a form of a child again. But no, it didnt.
I thought creatures like this were afraid of the sun Bala shook his head. Why did it pretend to be a child?
It wanted to split us at first, Kosta frowned, and then to make you turn your back to it so it would attack you from behind.
Bala winced at those words. Suddenly, all the horror he had been through, welled up in his heart again.
Moroks are not stupid, explained Kosta. They know how dangerous a sword can be. Its unlikely that you would have killed it, it knew, but it didnt want to get wounded. Hence the performance Bala, its a good thing that you kept clinging to your sword. No way I would have got to you in time otherwise.
Now, when Bala had a good look at the beautiful forests true face, he dreaded the prospect of staying here after dark. They got lucky this time but few people get that lucky twice in a row.
With Kostas disease defeated literally the boys could move much faster now, so they headed back to the city in a run.
Running was difficult for Kosta, still weak from the weeks-long ordeal, but easy enough for Bala to allow gloomy thoughts and doubts pester him as he ran. How could a sick, dying boy have defeated the monster worth of the effort of a professional battle Seven? How could he resist the waves of horror the morok kept sending his way? Who was Kosta for real?
So many questions but no answers.
***
Someone knocked at the locked gates of Firaska. It was a quiet, almost shy knocking but the Crimson Guardians took it as seriously as they would a blaring alarm. Hundreds of newly-made Liht spheres, thrown from the watchtowers, dotted the grass beyond the walls, chasing the darkness away. But they didnt reveal much. There were no monsters around, just two human figures by the gates: the very kids that had left the city in the morning. On seeing them, Aven Jay Zarbot cursed under her breath: she knew those young Lifekeepers would be trouble.
The younger of the two was holding a dirty bundle in his arms. When one of Avens mages demanded him to open it, the boy obeyed. He threw the rags aside and raised his trophy with both hands for everyone to see.
It was a severed head. A moroks head
***
There are many dangerous creatures in our world. You need only a warrior to stop most of them. You need a mage to stop the ones of a more dangerous kind. And a battle Seven to stop the most vicious ones. But not all dangerous creatures are children of the night. This is the term reserved only for the monsters that specialize in humans, imitate their appearance and even speech while hunting.
Are children of the night sentient? Is their behaviour conscious? There are many opinions but no one knows for sure.
Our book does not delve in such discussions. It teaches you how to fight the dark creatures.
Tome of Dark Creatures by Helga-Vlada and Sereg, a handbook of Crimson Guardians and Grey Hunters, first published in 1254, the newest edition published in 14501
Chapter 6. Between a rock and a hard place
Q: Are fairies dark creatures? Fairies are known to attack humans sometimes.
A: No, they are not. This is evident from the creatures behaviour. Fairies are hive species that react to anyone breaking into their hive or treading on their territory in the same way that bees or wasps do: by attacking the intruder. They never hunt humans on purpose. They also do not eat meat.
Q: But a fairy body is similar to a human body. Is it not an imitation of human shape, one of the signs of the darkness? And what about fairy larvae that can live in any dead creatures, including humans, feeding on decaying flesh?
A: Neither of those facts proves anything unless another fact, the most important, is present: imitation of human behaviour. No fairy imitates a crying child to lure a wanderer into its lair. No fairy uses human empathy as bait.
Fairies are dangerous, magically active animals you should be wary of but no, they are not dark creatures, not the children of the night.
Tome of Dark Creatures by Helga-Vlada and Sereg, Appendix 2
Firaskian walls followed the same protocols as temporary field perimeters did: they were divided into five segments, each segment had its own leader, a high-ranked Crimson Guardian. Aven Zarbots segment was the most important one of the five: she was in charge of the city gates. That circumstance made her a chief battlemage in Firaska but only in times of peace. If an emergency were to happen, like a massive invasion of dark creatures, the Elder Rule would make the oldest, most experienced Crimson Guardian Sarien Sarra, a fragile old lady with grey hair and devastating magical powers the head of the Firaskian mage army.
As Aven was walking through Firaskian alleys in the middle of the night in a company of five other mages, she couldnt stop wondering whether the time to enforce the Elder Rule was now
Do you know those boys, Aven? asked Sarien Sarra in her usual tone: cold, spiky, making everyone feel like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar. Zarbot wrinkled her nose as she heard the question. Couldnt help it. Luckily for her, it was dark enough, so no one noticed anything.
I saw them enter the city in a company of eight other Lifekeepers and talked to their leader. He said that they were on a mission and wanted to hire a Transvolo mage in Firaska and jump to Torgor, reported Aven. For some reason, they decided to stay in the city, though. They earned the trust of one of the college magisters, visited the college library, and trained with the young mages. That was unexpected but not suspicious. Young Lifekeepers often travel together and share their experience with everyone who wants to learn, its their tradition. Magister Sharlou spoke well of them, so did the college swordmasters
What kind of magic did the boys use to kill the morok? Sarien interrupted her.
It was killed with an ordinary sword, said Aven.
The other mages exchanged puzzled looks behind Avens back. The rest of the way, everyone kept silent
Lots of warm Lihts floating under the ceiling of a detention room filled it with enough light to keep all the night horrors at bay and enough warmth to make it cosy. Bala and Kosta shared that room with several sleeping citizens that had been caught by the guards in the streets after the curfew. What those people did was not a crime and the detention they got was only for their safety because of all the dark creatures prowling around, so the room did not look like a prison cell and the cots there were clean and comfortable.
The moroks head had indeed allowed Bala and Kosta to enter Firaska at night but it had also alarmed the whole Crimson Guard. There would be questions, lots of them. Tired as they were, the boys were too worried to sleep now.
Kosta walked up to a sink in the corner of the room, grabbed a bar of soap and began scrubbing the dried blood from his hands, hair, face and clothes. The water turned crimson-red; there seemed to be no end to the bloody filth no matter how hard Kosta tried to wash it away.
Bala, feeling sad and useless, sat on his cot, and hid his face in his hands. A swarm of questions he couldnt answer tortured him. He could make neither heads nor tails of the situation. What kind of disease Kosta had? Why did it pass after the morok had died? Why was Kosta immune to the moroks horror magic? Who was that boy after all
For the first time in his life, Bala regretted not having been reading more. The only things he could remember about moroks were a snippet of one of Kangassk Magestas incoherent lectures and a couple of his teammates bedtime stories.
He knew that moroks were dangerous magical creatures of a dark kind, because they preyed specifically on humans. He knew that the magic they used was not spells but rather a limited set of patterns. They knew a few illusion tricks they used those to fake human appearance and could spread waves of horror-inducing magic. An ordinary person could resist one such wave at best. Bala could not do even that: the very first wave had paralyzed him. But Kosta Kosta stood his ground like a breakwater, through all three
When Aven and Sarien arrived at the detention station, a couple of young Crimson Guardians woke up everyone in the room and escorted them away, leaving Bala and Kosta alone. They were going to be questioned, that was as clear as day, so they prepared themselves. Kosta, now scrubbed clean of most of the bloody filth, hastily combed his hair with his fingers in a feeble attempt to look nice. Bala did his best to put on a brave face; he was the adult here, after all, and needed to look like one.
Seeing the adult warrior the Crimson Guardians had told her about, the adult who in fact was just a teenager scared out of his wits, Sarien got suspicious, to say the least. But learning that this boy wasnt even the one who had killed the morok and that the younger one a twelve-year-old! had done it, made the old mage almost furious. Was Aven Zarbot that incompetent? Obviously, those kids were not the ones who had killed the monster! But who did it then? And why did that person decide to hide? That seemed worthy of Sarien's attention.
I heard, my dears, that you had killed a morok, said Sarien sweetly, like a loving grandma would, while her battlemage companions inconspicuously spread around the room, keeping an eye on the boys every movement.