《The Saga of the Undone One》


 Prologue - First Breath

    He swam in a dark, bottomless pit for what felt like a thousand years. The void around him was filled with pale illusions, with the remains of memories, of places and things unknown to him.


    Who was he? What was this strange place he was in? Was this death? Afterlife? But¡­ but what was "death" or "afterlife" exactly? He didn''t have the answer to any of those questions. In fact, he couldn''t even begin to think about them. The visions and the pain filled everything left of his mind.


    Slowly the void filled with dim light. Maybe it took seconds but for his shattered mind it felt like centuries. The soft glow became brighter and brighter until it filled the emptiness to the brim. It was hot as a flame, as a star ¨C completely opposite of the coldness that filled the void. The light also felt¡­ powerful and life giving. It destroyed the illusions and cleared the visions out of his mind in an instant. It turned the overwhelming pain into a simple numbness. And then it crept into his mind. But it wasn¡¯t like the illusions. He wasn¡¯t scared of the light. He welcomed it. And then it happened.


    He opened his eyes and took a sharp, painful breath. In a sense it was the first one of his life.


    It took a few second for the blinding light to fade and make his sight normal. He saw the grey skies above him, filled with thunderclouds like some beasts from another world. He felt the wind touching his sides and the ground below his back. His chest itched and there was a strange, pulsating pain in the back of his palms. But that wasn¡¯t what occupied his mind.


    It was the words. The words came out of nowhere and filled his consciousness. The meaning behind them also came with a lightning speed. Suddenly his thoughts had shape. He could speak now. The gift of language had returned to his shattered mind. But the memories didn¡¯t come back. And he somehow he knew they would never return to him.


    ¡°Who am I?¡± The words came out slowly out of his chapped lips. They were still new and strange sounding to him, but their meaning was clear. He wasn¡¯t sure that he could ever find the answer to this question. The place in his mind where memories would be was completely and utterly empty. It was like someone just erased them from existence. Were they there in the first place? He didn¡¯t know. He couldn¡¯t know. But an instinct deep inside told him that they were and they still should be.


    But the lack of memories inside his headwasn''t his biggest concern right now. Thirst burned in his throat and hunger roared inside of his stomach. He had to find water and food.


    The nameless man got up slowly and then looked around.


    The look of his surroundings sent cold chill down his spine. He was in the middle of a dry meadow surrounded by a dead looking forest with short and twisted, leafless trees. The undefined feeling of autumn and sadness filled the meadow and forest. In the distance and to the south there was a mountain chain with peaks surmounted by snow. None of these things made him feel sick. But the corpses did.


    The dead bodies were all around him. There were at least three dozens of them on the meadow. Their decayed, brown flesh exposed the bones beneath and their empty eye sockets gazed calmly at him. He didn¡¯t feel fear at this sight for he had no experience nor relation with death whatsoever. But he felt disgusted. It was deep, primal emotion, older than him and his missing memories. He made a step back in a desperate attempt to get away from the disturning scene before him. His bare foot stepped into something dry and strange to the touch. He knew it was probably a corpse and didn''t even dare to look at the ground. The urge to vomit rose to his throat but his stomach was empty.


    The man tried to ease his shivering by looking down at his own body. And there he was met with yet another unpleasant surprise.


    His abdomen was covered in ugly scars and there were strange signs in an unknown language tattooed on his chest. He was wearing only a pair of ragged pants so he could see the wounds on his feet which weren¡¯t fully healed. Upon the back of his palms there were engraved - with a sharp blade, by the looks of it - two bizarre and identical marks. They were probably the source of the intense pain that he felt. A term came to his mind when he looked at them, although he didn''t know its meaning. The Changelings'' Brand.


    The nameless man saw the proof that he is an Undone One in that very moment, while he was looking at the signs on his arms. He didn''t know what they stood for or what kind of life they doomed him to have. But he would soon face the horrible reality that was the existence as an Undone One. And in the depths of his heart, darkened by pain and misery, would grow a hatred towards the Changelings. A hatred as deep as that of a man seeing his family killed before his eyes and swearing to end the life of the killer. Or perhaps his hatred was even deeper. But besides the Changelings he would also grow to despise any kind of people and eventually himself. He could only loathe the ones who pitied him and took him for a crippled - both mentally and physically - man. His hatred towards those who ignored him or thought of him as a useless creature would be even more intense. But he would mostly detest himself because he couldn''t do anything to make his miserable life better.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Alas, all this intense hatred lied in the misty depths of the future. For now the only thing the nameless man could do was to get out of the corpse-filled meadow. And he did so rather quickly and while trying not to succumb to the disgust growing inside of him. The urge to vomit rose again and again, but he did his best to ignore it. He also did his best not to look at the dead bodies but failed multiple times. He soon noticed that all of the bodies beared the same scars as him, and also the Changelings'' Brand. Were they the same as him? And if so, how was he the only one alive amongst dozens of people? As with all of the other questions within his mind at that time, he didn''t have an answer to this one either.


    The nameless man entered the dead forest surrounding the meadow and wandered in its quiet and dark depths for hours until nightfall. He found no animals nor any sign of life, but he stumbled upon few streams. The water was warm and muddy but he still drank to his heart''s content.


    Fierce hunger was still torturing him when he saw an old road among the trees. He immediately followed it, although it seemed long abandoned. He soon lost sense of time in attempt to ignore his hunger and pain. It felt like he was already walking for hours when the forest surrendered to a field covered with short grasses. The wind grew colder and a pale red moon rose up in the sky slowly and elegantly as a nymph awoken from her sleep. But the nameless man did not care about any of this. He continued on the path in a desperate attempt to find something that could feed him.


    The break of dawn caught him resting on the side of the road with his back against the trunk of a large tree. Upon the wood were engraved countless names of the people that had travelled on this road in the past. The nameless man had already looked at them several times. Many were in languages he couldn''t understand. But not all.


    Now he hoped for someone - or something - to appear on this forgotten road and save him. His power to walk forward was depleted and the warm, golden sunrays from the east couldn''t bring it back. He didn''t have anything anymore besides hope. Hope and his new name, actually. He was not nameless anymore.


    One of the names engraved upon the tree behind him was now his. He liked it. It sounded new and strange, and yet he felt it closer than any other name that he could read there. Now he had to get used to it. So he repeated it over and over again like some ancient incantation. His raspy voice filled the air.


    "Ehrir", he said once more. "Ehrir".


    After some time somewhere far north, where the road merged with the horizon, appeared a dark dot. It slowly grew and turned into a group of separate figures. It took some time for Ehrir to see them and even more to recognize that they were caravans. There was nearly a dozen of them, all painted in dark colors. Every one of them was moved by a pair of jet black horses. On top of the leading caravan hanged a flag with a symbol unrecognized by Ehrir.


    When the caravans got near him, he slowly got up and rose his hand in the air as if his very presence wasn¡¯t enough for him to be noticed. The caravaneer of the first one in the procession - a middle-aged man, wearing all black clothes and broad-brimmed gray hat - looked straight at him and his mouth twisted into an ugly smile.


    "Come on, get in the caravan from the back", he said calmly. "The great Order of Hasthan welcomes all."


    And so began Ehrir¡¯s experience with just one of the countless organizations in the Outer Fantasy whose members were insane to a degree. In the following days the Order of Hasthan fed him and gave him a place to sleep in its caravans. The strange members of the cult ¨C for a lack of a better term for this organization ¨C even treated him well, although they soon noticed that he is an Undone One. They introduced him to the meaning of this term and also said that he¡¯d face a lot of hatred in the world with the Changelings¡¯ Brand upon his palms. But they also told him that among their ranks he¡¯ll find only true brotherhood and a fine way of living. And then they started to preach to him their weird philosophy.


    ¡°The dead are the only thing that¡¯s worth our attention in this world¡±, Ehrir would hear in the next days over and over again. ¡°We care for the dead. In more than one way they are our family. We bury them with honor and according to their wishes. We do that with the rich who fear that their children would abandon their corpses without proper funerals. We do that with the poor who have no money to even have their dead body burned or buried. You may ask why. And I¡¯ll tell you. We do it because in the eyes of the great Hasthan, Lord of the Unliving, only those that live alongside dead are deemed worthy.¡± These word were spoken by the leader of the caravan procession and high-ranking member of the Order. He told them ¨C or similar ones ¨C to Ehrir every morning. And then suddenly one day he asked him to join the organization.


    Ehrir, a man with shattered mind and erased memories, without any previous touch to the civilization, was visibly confused by the philosophies of the Order. How could these lunatics look at the rotting piles of flesh, similar to the ones on the meadow he awoke in, and think of them as beautiful and exalted? He quickly refused the invitation because of these thoughts. And then came the fists.


    The members of the Order of Hasthan almost killed him. They broke a few of his ribs and covered his body with bruises. They kicked him and hit him for hours before leaving him at the gates of a nearby city. ¡°You are an Undone One. You are below the rest of mankind. You are trash. You can¡¯t even repay our kindness. The great Hasthan won¡¯t welcome you into his palace¡±, they told him. And he would not forget these words, because they first ignited his hatred towards the common people.


    Ehrir chose to live in the city at whose gates he was left by the Order. He felt that there was no place beneath the sky that was fit for him, that was fit for an Undone One. Why would this city be any worse than any other place in the Outer Fantasy?


    And so he remained there for months before the hatred of the locals made him move elsewhere. And so began his miserable life, spent in moving from city to city and from kingdom to kingdom in a desperate attempt to find a place in which he wouldn¡¯t meet ignorant ¨C or hateful ¨C gazes. And that kind of existence continued for years, and his hatred towards all living, breathing humans continued to rise with each passing month. Until one day, in a city by the name of Borhael, at the coast of a sea with water as calm as the skies above it, he found something that would change him ¨C for the better or worse ¨C forever.

 Chapter 1 - A Spark of Power

    Ehrir hated to count the days but still did it as the years slowly passed him by. If his calculations weren¡¯t wrong, today was the twelfth day of the eight year since he awakened to life as an Undone One. ¡°How little time¡±, he thought. It felt like there was a giant gap of years dividing him from his old years and the inevitable death. Although Ehrir didn¡¯t knew his real age he couldn¡¯t be older than thirty-five years, not with his jet black hair and the few wrinkles on his face. He¡¯d go insane if he lived like that for another twenty or thirty years. Maybe another plague would come sweeping through the kingdom and end his life, or some drunk bandit would cut his throat in the dark embrace of the night. Either way it would be a relief.


    Ehrir sighed and started wrapping himself with the rags that he used as a blanket. It was the middle of the autumn and the nights were already longer than the days. The sunset was turning the city into a mosaic of dark shadows and warm red lights. The streets of Borhael were already half-empty and quiet. Soon all of the normal citizens would be home, asleep in their beds. The only people who roamed the city at night were the guards, the drunkards, the homeless and the bandits. Ehrir, of course, fell in the third category. He didn¡¯t fear no one at night ¨C the guards ignored him and most drunkards were in a state which made them harmless. The bandits didn¡¯t trouble him either ¨C even the lowest of cutthroats had no reason to even look at him in this miserable state. Sometimes he got in meaningless fights for a piece of cloth or a bits of food with the other homeless people wandering the city, but it was nothing big. He was safe.


    Ehrir¡¯s residence was now a small alley in the outskirts of the trade district of Borhael. It was good ¨C just wide enough to be comfortable and also hideous enough for him to not be seen from the big streets from both sides. It was the third week since he began sleeping here and it would probably not be long since someone stronger and bigger tried to take it from him. In such case he didn¡¯t have any choice but to run and find another place ¨C the world of the homeless was cruel and he didn¡¯t want to have his arms or legs broken. He had seen a beggar killing another one of his kind rarely. They would often just break few of their bones before abandoning them somewhere. Such injuries would surely would kill Ehrir in his current state, but he wanted to die without pain, not to suffer for hours and days. The world had given him enough suffering already.


    Such dark thoughts orbited in Ehrir¡¯s mind before falling asleep almost every single day. Today was not an exception. He lied in the alley for almost half an hour, wrapped in his rags, and thought about his past. But finally the fatigue from the day ¨C just as monotonous and meaningless as the ones before it ¨C made him fall asleep. High above in the sky the moon rose and the darkness engulfed everything. Soon the city guards - wearing lanterns casting soft golden glow, and dressed in their pale blue uniforms - started roaming the streets. But beyond their gaze and from the shadows came the scum of the underworld, from the lowest of thieves to the high-ranking members of the Seven Stars Gang.


    ***


    The feeling of cold metal touching his cheek woke Ehrir up. It was an unpleasant sensation, especially in the coldness of the autumn night. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around. The hair on his neck stood up immediately.


    He was surrounded by three young men in long dark coats. They were all dangerously looking, with daggers in their hands and rapiers on their belts. Their faces were beautiful and clean, without even a trace of a scar. That was uncommon for their profession. One of them was squatting and holding his dagger next to Ehrir¡¯s cheek, and another one was smiling while holding a glowing crystal, emitting dim white light.


    But what surprised the Undone One most was the seven white stars embroidered on the collar of the man¡¯s coat and on these of his comrades. They marked them as members of the criminal overlords of Borhael ¨C the Seven Stars Gang. And based of the color of the stars they were high-ranking members. What could they want with him?


    ¡°Careful now, buddy¡±, said the one that had his dagger on Ehrir¡¯s cheek. ¡°No sudden movements, or I¡¯ll probably have to cut you a little.¡±


    Ehrir swallowed his saliva. Strong fear crept up in his mind. It was primal fear of danger and injury. And of death, although he longed for it. He looked into the clear blue eyes of the man before him. He was relaxed and calm, like he wasn¡¯t ready to kill him in an instant.


    ¡°W-what do you want from me?¡± It took him several seconds before he spoke up.


    The man before him smiled with childish happiness and then he began to speak in a quiet and calm voice, while slowly pushing his dagger¡¯s tip into Ehrir¡¯s cheek until it penetrated the skin. A single drop of blood rolled down his face.


    ¡°Look, buddy, it¡¯s not personal. I mean¡­ well, damn, look at yourself! By the looks of it you can¡¯t even harm an ant, let alone someone important to us. The problem we have is this guy over here.¡± The man against him rose his arm and pointed at one of his companions. It was one who wasn¡¯t holding the crystal. He was the farthest from Ehrir. Half of his face was sunken in shadows but Ehrir could tell by the other half that the man was very young. His features were almost childlike. He was dripping with sweat and holding his dagger rather nervously.


    ¡°So¡±, continued the man before Ehrir, ¡°This is my little brother. His name is Rahel and today is his first day as an official member of the Seven Stars Gang. And at our humble organization we have a simple rule for newcomers ¨C you have to slit someone¡¯s throat in the same day that you become a member. Sometimes it is the first taste of a blood for a new guy, sometimes it is just a ritual for a hardened killer. For my bro it is his first time taking someone¡¯s life and it is a great honor for you to be his first target.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Ehrir¡¯s heart was beating faster after every word told by the man. Part of him felt some undefined happiness that he may finally be released from this miserable existence here, but his self-preservation instincts kicked in long ago and now he was terrified. He could only watch as the man against him stood up and took a step back. He then made looked at his brother without saying a word. The young man ¨C or the boy, rather ¨C came forward without much confidence. Innocence glowed in his aquamarine eyes. Those weren¡¯t the eyes of a killer. They lacked the thirst for blood. This young man could never really kill, or at least Ehrir thought so. The world of the homeless taught him to evaluate someone by his eyes long ago.


    The boy stopped before him and took a long look at the blade of his dagger. The steel shined under the light from the crystal of his comrade. He sighed.


    ¡°Please¡­ stand up.¡± His voice lacked confidence. It was frail, delicate and weak. But Ehrir was sure that if he didn¡¯t obey the order he would be handled by the boy¡¯s brother. And he definitely didn¡¯t want that. He stood up as fast as his stiff body let him. Countless old and familiar pains rose because of the sudden movement. Some part of him rejoiced at the idea that he wouldn¡¯t need to feel these pains anymore.


    Ehrir had now gathered the confidence to speak up, but he didn¡¯t know what to say.


    ¡°You are wondering why we chose you, right?¡± the voice of Rahel¡¯s brother sounded loud and strong. He was looking into Ehrir¡¯s eyes. ¡°It¡¯s simple. You were the only one around besides the guards. And you are a homeless man. Your life is probably miserable. I can see it in your eyes, buddy. You have suffered a lot. You really want to be dead, don¡¯t ya? I can tell that my bro is really just giving you a present, in a sense. We will end you for good. You won¡¯t have to sleep on this cold pavement anymore and you won¡¯t have to endure the loneliness of this type of life. And besides¡­ If we didn¡¯t chose you, it would be some decent man or woman. Probably one with home and family and all that stuff. And with regrets, most importantly. So¡­ I think it¡¯s a pretty good decision to kill you. What are you gonna say?¡± The man¡¯s smile just grew bigger and bigger with every word.


    It took some time for Ehrir to finally nod as an answer. He began speaking. Or murmuring, rather.


    ¡°I understand¡­ I do want to die. Please¡­ please kill me.¡± The words he said weren¡¯t really lies. The rational part of him was ready to embrace death with calmness. His animalistic side, however, was not. The instinct to run or to attack these people was almost as strong as the one telling him to beg for his life and hope for a chance to survive. Ehrir suppressed them both.


    When he heard his words, Rahel¡¯s brother smile got even brighter somehow. When he spoke his voice was powerful and understanding as if he was face to face with an equal.


    ¡°You seem to understand. That look of yours¡­ there¡¯s something strange in you, buddy, something strong. If we weren¡¯t in this situation I would have probably thought about letting you join our little gang or one of those that serve under our command. At least you are ready to embrace death and that¡¯s something I can respect¡­ Any final words?¡± He spoke with a serious expression on his face.


    Ehrir looked straight into the man¡¯s eyes. Was there really anything that he wanted to tell the world as a last message? He gazed inside his mind and memories, and then at the Changelings¡¯ Brand upon his palms. The scars were as new as if done a month ago. Ehrir smiled bitterly. Yes, there was something he wanted to say.


    ¡°If you ever come across a Changeling in your lives¡±, said he with his most serious voice, ¡°you can tell them that one of the Undone Ones is waiting for them in the afterlife. And that he is ready for revenge.¡±


    Rahel¡¯s brother started laughing. But it was a joyful laugh, not a mocking or a teasing one. It was clear to Ehrir that he noticed the Brand long ago.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got some guts, buddy¡±, he finally spoke after a while, ¡°I can respect that too. This world is losing something with your death. But there is just no other way.¡± He got silent for a second and then a slight smile surged up on his face. ¡°Rahel¡­ kill him.¡±


    Ehrir¡¯s heartbeat got faster, but he stood as still as a rock. He didn¡¯t have the willpower to another thing. He also didn¡¯t have the desire to, really. The boy before him took a step forward and then placed the dagger on his throat. And after that he lowered it. And rose it again.


    ¡°You should act faster, boy¡±, said the man with the crystal in his hand. Since now he hadn¡¯t spoken a word. ¡°The guards may sweep by at any moment.¡±


    ¡°Right. I¡¯ll do it. I just need a little bit of time.¡± Rahel¡¯s voice was a bit more confident now. He looked at Ehrir with remorse in his gaze. His tone became quiet, almost a murmur. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I will make it as painless as possible. I promise.¡±


    And then the dagger got on the left side of Ehrir and started swinging towards his throat. Hot tears rolled down the Undone One¡¯s cheeks and great fear overcame every part of his consciousness. Time slowed down to a crawl and the past eight years flashed before his eyes. The missing memories didn¡¯t show up even in these final moments of his life.


    And then he felt something inside of him. It was just like a spark ¨C warm and bright but not big and by no meaning powerful. Its existence probably wouldn¡¯t last longer than that of a real spark. But it gave him enough courage to finally fight.


    Deep animalistic growl came out of his throat and his hand ¨C the same hand that was endlessly aching from the Changelings¡¯ Brand ¨C acted faster than lightning and grabbed Rahel by the wrist. His dagger only scratched Ehrir. And while he held onto the boy¡¯s arm, his mind held onto the spark. And suddenly it grew and turned into a fire that filled his body to the brim. There was power within these flames, enough power to change the world and to rule destiny. They burned him and they were hurting him, but it was a sweet, cleansing pain.


    Ehrir¡¯s grip on Rahel¡¯s hand tightened. He could almost feel his bones under the boy¡¯s frail flesh. And in his mind he wished them to turn into something different. And his thought became reality. And he Changed them.

 Chapter 2 - Awakened Might

    Ehrir didn¡¯t know what he did but somehow he was sure that the bones of Rahel were now different, in a sense. The shocked gaze of the boy was more than enough to reassure him that he indeed did something. But the young man¡¯s expression wasn¡¯t painful. His fingers opened and dropped the dagger on the pavement.


    ¡°What did you do?!¡± The boy¡¯s eyes were tearing up. His lower arm hung to his side in an unnatural angle. There was something obviously wrong with it. It was as if his bones were missing.


    Ehrir looked at Rahel with an emotionless gaze. His face was calm and relaxed, a polar opposite of his fearful expression from mere moments ago. Within him the powerful fire had faded. It was replaced by the feeling of inner warmth which permeated his entire being and filled him with courage. His fear was still as strong as before, but the composure that the warmth gave off was much more powerful. It was like some otherworldly light was shining inside of him. Ehrir smiled slightly before evading the rapier of Rahel¡¯s brother with a well-timed jump.


    ¡°You son of a - !¡± The man¡¯s face was twisted into an extremely angry grimace. There was no sign of his wide smile anymore. There was a dangerous shining in his eyes. ¡°What did you do to my brother?¡±


    ¡°I simply¡­ changed him.¡± The words came out of Ehrir¡¯s mouth more confident and calmer than intended. It was if his body was separated from his soul by the warmth that engulfed him from all sides. He couldn¡¯t control his own voice very well. The feeling was far more than just strange.


    Rahel¡¯s brother looked him with hatred. The rapier was in his right hand and the dagger rested in the left.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t have a way to fix this I won¡¯t go easy on you. We offered you painless death and you refused. If you don¡¯t fix my brother¡¯s arm you¡¯ll see the true wrath of the Seven Stars Gang.¡±


    Ehrir didn¡¯t know what to say. His newfound power surprised him, but there was no place to show that on the outside right now. He used it just once so far, but it felt like it was natural. He knew how to do it and he could probably fix the boy¡¯s arm with ease. But he was sure that the gang-members would kill after he healed Rahel. And right now a strong will to live was burning inside of him.


    ¡°I cannot do anything about your brother¡¯s arm. I don¡¯t know how to fix it¡±, lied Ehrir with an honest-sounding voice. He knew that these words would only enrage the bandits. And they indeed did so.


    The two older men attacked, leaving Rahel behind. Ehrir evaded their first attack with coordinated but slow movements. Although the warmth gave him strength, it didn¡¯t heal his pains and neither did it make him faster than usual. The enemies¡¯ rapiers left two bloody scratches on his chest but didn¡¯t hurt him more. There was no way to counterattack bare handedly. He had to acquire a weapon fast.


    Ehrir took two steps backwards before touching the wall of the building besides him. With the new power (it was damn magic, probably) he could just sense the essence of things around him. And how he felt all of the stone from the building¡¯s wall, and he instantly knew what it can change into and what shape can it embrace. And he ordered it to Change.


    It did so immediately ¨C within a split second a whole chunk was missing from the wall and a stone stick rested in Ehrir¡¯s hand. It was too heavy, too short and too primitive. It would never work in actual combat. But he never intended it for combat. He couldn¡¯t even fight properly.


    Ehrir used it to parry the hits of his coming opponents. The forming of the weapon was far too quick and that got them disoriented enough for their hits to be easily parried. Rahel¡¯s brother even received a hit in the waist. He took a step back.


    ¡°That was one hell of a blow¡±, he said while gritting his teeth. ¡°I¡¯ll cut off half of your foot for that.¡±


    While he was talking, his comrade attacked again. Ehrir jumped towards him and took a direct hit in the shoulder. It wasn¡¯t very deep but it definitely hurt. The Undone One growled from the pain and hit the man¡¯s arm with his weapon. He struck the bandit¡¯s elbow. A high scream echoed through the alley.


    Now the defense of his enemy was down. Ehrir stepped forward and touched the attacker¡¯s chest. He immediately sensed his inner organs. It was easy to locate the heart, it took him a mere fraction of a second. He wanted to turn it into bone but he couldn¡¯t. Something was stopping him from doing that, like a barrier or a wall of shadows. Well, there were a lot of other possibilities and no room for wondering. He just Changed his heart into talc.


    In the end no one could live without a normal heart. But it wasn¡¯t satisfying to watch as the man¡¯s face twisted into a shocked expression and he fell on the pavement. Ehrir didn¡¯t find happiness in this first kill there was relief. Relief that the fallen man wouldn¡¯t be the one who killed him.


    There was no time for stopping right now, though. Rahel¡¯s brother was still alive and he had recovered from the hit he took. Now he was coming at him again. Ehrir took a defensive pose ¨C or imitated one, rather ¨C and tried to parry the incoming hit.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    It didn¡¯t exactly work out. His enemy was obviously skilled with the rapier. In addition he was stronger and faster than Ehrir. He met the stone stick with his weapon head on and made Ehrir take a step back, leaving a wound below the Undone One¡¯s elbow with the tip of his weapon. The bandit smiled.


    ¡°You will beg me to slit your throat after I¡¯m done with you¡±, he said with hateful tone. ¡°You think you harm the Seven Stars Gang just like that?¡±


    Ehrir didn¡¯t care for the man¡¯s words. He focused on attacking. The parrying of the stone sword¡¯s blow made his enemy lose momentum and that was a good chance for Ehrir to end the fight. He took a careless step ahead and tried to parry every blow as well as possible. It didn¡¯t go as planned ¨C the rapier left several wounds on his shoulders and arms. But it didn¡¯t matter, because he finally was close to the enemy. He jumped forward and gripped the man¡¯s throat.


    Afterwards it was easy. This time Ehrir didn¡¯t even have enough time to focus on any particular organ and just concentrated on the chest, turning everything within reach into fluids. He stopped after a second. It was more than enough.


    The man looked into his eyes with a dying gaze. His mouth opened as if he wanted to same something, but no words came out. His face started turning purple and he fell on the pavement. Ehrir knew that his heart and lungs were destroyed. The main threat was dealt with.


    But there still remained Rahel. The boy was innocent in heart but he was also the one that tried to kill him. Ehrir couldn¡¯t let him live. The young man wouldn¡¯t just be quiet about the man who was responsible for the death of his brother.


    Ehrir slowly walked towards Rahel. The boy didn¡¯t try to run or fight, he just stood there gripping his deformed arm. Now Ehrir knew what he did with it earlier ¨C he somehow turned the bone into flesh, although he felt that it was impossible to do the same with the other bandits.


    ¡°I won¡¯t beg for mercy nor shall I run¡±, said Rahel. Tears were falling from his eyes and his expression was mournful, but his voice had some strength in it. He wasn¡¯t made for a killer, but Ehrir knew that he had underestimated him. This boy wasn¡¯t weak.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. But you know it¡¯s necessary for me. You won¡¯t simply let me go after what I¡¯ve done, right?¡± Ehrir¡¯s expression was serious and his voice was low.


    ¡°No, I won¡¯t. I wouldn¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t.¡±, said Rahel while nodding slowly. He cleared the tears from his face with the sleeve of his coat and then stood still. ¡°At least¡­ It won¡¯t hurt, will it?¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t¡±, uttered Ehrir as his hand extended towards Rahel and touch the side of the young man¡¯s head.


    The Undone One instantly sensed the boy¡¯s skull and the brain under it, brimming with life. He didn¡¯t know what material was it made of, but it definitely wasn¡¯t the same as the heart, the bones or even the lungs. The material was soft and it could be easily Changed.


    Ehrir got ready to use his power. He gazed at Rahel¡¯s eyes with calmness and pity. The boy answered him with a strong look. The crystal that was used by the bandits for light had long ago fallen on the ground but it was still casting dim light. Its shine illuminated Rahel¡¯s eyes and they seemed strange. Otherworldly, even.


    The Undone One sighed but didn¡¯t look down. He fixed his eyes on Rahel¡¯s and Changed his brain tissue into muscle.


    The boy was dead long before his body hit the ground.


    ***


    The sun was rising from the east and waking Borhael up. The docks were still quiet, though. Hundreds of ships rested on the water, their decks were silent. There were just few dozens of people in the whole harbor and the only thing one could hear was the calm wind, endlessly blowing from the sea.


    Ehrir was standing at the end of a pier ¨C just one among hundreds ¨C and looked at the calm waters before him, stretching to the horizon where they met the skies. The Undone One was wearing one of the bandit¡¯s coats, but he had cut off the collar and the sleeves. He also made it dirtier on purpose. Before it looked too clean and good for someone like him. He also had new boots and shirt, both stolen from the corpses. In addition he had acquired a dagger and a significant (for him, at least) amount of money.


    Ehrir was deep in thought. He didn¡¯t feel regret for the killings he had done but he felt disgusted by himself. He still remembered the dozens of corpses on the meadow where he first awoke, and the idea that he would be responsible for turning someone into a similar decaying pile of flesh was indeed disturbing. It wasn¡¯t pleasant to kill. He was sure of it now that he had done it himself. But, as with many things in his life, there was no other way.


    The city guards had probably found the bodies already. The unlucky ones who did so would surely be accused of killing the bandits. Ehrir could only hope for them to survive the wrath of the overlords of the gang. There were obscure rumors that the Seven Stars members have a large influence over the city lord and his people, and that made things even worse. Ehrir shook his head silently ¨C these things weren¡¯t his problems.


    What troubled him was his power. He called it Changing for the lack of a more fitting term, but it was clear that it was some kind of magic. It greatly disturbed him that he could use such a thing. Ehrir despised magic. It was the same vile thing that turned him into an Undone One in the first place. And yet he was now a mage. Well, kind of.


    Ehrir sat down on the pier and looked down into the water below him. It was dirty, but a couple handfuls helped him clean his face and hair. He also washed the dried blood off of his arms. He had to look clean enough or else they wouldn¡¯t even let him enter a tavern. And he really needed to finally sleep in a normal bed.


    The Undone One smiled. He also had to find a pair of gloves to hide the Brand on his palms. His thoughts centered on this idea for a short time before turning into a steady stream. He was thinking about the future and its possibilities. The warmth inside of him was still there, although it was weaker now. It still gave him courage and somehow reassured him that everything would be alright.


    For the first time in his life Ehrir felt hope for the coming day. And for the first time in years his urge to die slowly faded away.

 Chapter 3 - The Good Side of Life

    The sun hanged high in the heavens and spilled its light above Borhael. The city was like a frying pan and the streets were full with people despite the unnatural heat for this time of the year. The trade district was turned into a blend of people of all ages and social statuses, into a march of colorful clothes and countless slangs. The simple dialects of the commoners mixed with the elegant way of talking akin to aristocrats, and even with different languages. Most of the people in this part of the Outer Fantasy were raven-haired and light-eyed, with fair skins, but amongst the masses there were a few exceptions and they were all men and women from faraway lands. People of all professions crossed the streets ¨C from the young builders¡¯ apprentices to the knights, clad in armor covered with silver ornaments, and the travelers with their dusty hats and old cloaks.


    Among all of the crowds and the thousands of people was Ehrir. It was the second day since he began sweeping around the trade district and the seventh since the awakening of his power. Now he looked like someone from the lower ranks of nobility with his green coat, knee-high boots and silk shirt. His beard was trimmed and his hair was plaited. The Brand on his palms was hidden by a pair of leather gloves. The way simple people treated him was astonishing. Commoners made way for him in the crowd and respect was shining in their eyes when they looked at him. Nobody could guess that this attractive man was one of Borhael¡¯s lowlifes just a week ago.


    A slight smile was dancing on Ehrir¡¯s face. He was enjoying this kind of lifestyle quite a bit. For the first time since coming to this city he was seeing its good side. He was seeing the good side of life for a first time in a long while, actually.


    Ehrir looked around him and focused his gaze on a nearby store. It was rather small and a simple picture of a hat and cape was engraved on the signboard above its door. It was a tailor¡¯s shop. And it was just what Ehrir needed.


    He went towards the store with confident steps. A tall and muscular young man ¨C probably the son or niece of the owner ¨C was guarding the door against any unwanted intruders. He just looked at Ehrir with an indifferent gaze before letting him enter with a slight nod.


    The inside of the shop was bigger than Ehrir expected. It was just one room and its walls were covered with racks packed full with clothes and different fabrics. The storekeeper ¨C a skinny man in his fifties ¨C was standing behind a counter near the door. His eyes brightened when he saw his potential new client.


    ¡°What can I help you with, master?¡± he said with a wide smile on his face. The clothes he wore definitely weren¡¯t very impressive for a tailor. But those on the racks surely were nice.


    ¡°What clothes can you recommend me for seafaring? Or for traversing the south in general?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± The tailor put his fingers on his chin and went silent for a second. ¡°A garb and a good ol¡¯ cloak can be useful on any trip. I would also say you¡¯ll need a sea jerkin and a silk headband or straw hat ¨C these two are necessary for us nordlings. The weather in the south can get pretty scorching, milord. Another good choice ¨C if you¡¯re travelling by sea, at least ¨C would be a pair of trusty seafarer boots, although I cannot offer you those. They are quite special and you should probably order them at a shoemaker¡¯s workshop.¡±


    Ehrir nodded and smiled. It was better to trust the man¡¯s opinion. He wasn¡¯t exactly an expert when it came to clothing. He did spend the past eight years in rags and whatever clothing he could snatch off the other homeless men, after all.


    ¡°If you have the clothes you¡¯ve suggested me and their size matches mine, I would like to buy them right now¡±, he said and watched with joy as the tailor gazed at him with surprise and happiness.


    It didn¡¯t take long before Ehrir left the shop with a sturdy leather bag containing all of the clothing that the tailor offered him, along with a big piece of simple cloth. Now he was poorer with a bunch of silver coins but he could easily restore the money. He would simply the turn the cloth in the bag into silk and then sell it to another tailor. That was the way that he multiplied his wealth over the last several days ¨C through Changing fabrics. For some reason he couldn¡¯t turn silver into gold nor any other metal into a precious one. Otherwise he would be filthy rich, but what he had right now was more than enough for him. Actually, just enough copper coins to afford a roof above his head and hot food was good for him, but now Ehrir had more wealth than he could ever imagine while he was still homeless.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    He stopped by a few more shops and came out of every one of them with new purchases. When he finally left the trade district he had acquired a pair of seafarer boots (they were a little big for his feet but still fitting enough), new gloves ¨C thin and made out of silk ¨C and a nice white scarf, along with several new bags which could fit his baggage from the inn he stayed in. He then stopped at one of the healers¡¯ workshops where they treated his wounds from the battle with the Seven Stars Gang members in the past days. Under the careful care of the healer ¨C old man with friendly face, who was pale and skinny as a skeleton ¨C the bloody scratches on his chest and arms and the deeper wounds on his elbow and shoulder were all healing nicely.


    The healer was Ehrir¡¯s last stop today on his way back to the tavern where he slept for the last seven days. It had three floors and was used mainly by rich travelers and captains of smaller ships. Its location was near the harbor and the sharp sea winds, bringing a smell of salt with them, could be sensed from its windows. Ehrir soon reached it and his new purchases were handled to two young boys who were servants in the inn. Then the Undone One had lunch up in his room. The food that the inn offered was superb and contained mainly fish and other sea creatures. Ehrir ate it slowly and savored every bite. He still hadn¡¯t got accommodated to eating meat or any other high quality food.


    After the lunch he went out again and spent the majority of the afternoon at a scribes¡¯ school in the rich part of Borhael. There he was taking a lessons in writing and reading during the last bunch of days. It was exciting for him as he could never learn to write or read during his beggar years. He couldn¡¯t get very far for half a week ¨C the written language in the most parts of Outer Fantasy was Emhaelic, and it greatly differed from the common tongue. He could grasp the basics of the alphabet, but to even talk in this ancient speech (a remnant of a great civilization from the olden ages when non-humans still roamed the world) was a faraway dream. Today was his last lecture at the school though, as he planned to soon leave Borhael.


    Ehrir longed to travel and to see these parts of the world that he couldn¡¯t even dream to in the past. During the eight years since becoming an Undone One he had traversed three kingdoms. All in all he had gotten just a little bit south of his original location, and he hadn¡¯t seen much of the world. And he heard that there were great countries and memorable things down south and on the other coast of the Cargaen Sea.


    After leaving the scribes¡¯ school for the last time he returned to the harbor and took a long walk. Then, when the sun started sliding down to the west horizon and turning the aquamarine sea water into an expanse of shining gold and brass, he returned to the inn. Ehrir spent the evening in the dining hall on the first floor, drinking and playing hazard with first mates and captains. And then he slept for twelve hours straight. He had grown to love sleeping now, and he thought that the bed in his room was the most comfortable thing he had ever laid his back upon.


    ***


    A couple of days passed, and finally the morning of Ehrir¡¯s departure from Borhael arrived. He had acquired even more money and items for the travel now, and also bought a place in a second-rate ship in the harbor that was traveling towards the Archipelago of Claws in the middle of the Cargaen Sea. From then on he could find another ship to travel with to the south shores.


    Ehrir got out of bed early that day and two hours later was already on the pier where his ship was positioned. One of the boys from the inn helped him move his baggage and for that he rewarded him with a copper coin.


    The Undone One got on the ship silently. There were around twenty other passengers besides him, and most of them were already here. The ship was said to start sailing at noon. Ehrir decided to spend the time until then on the deck. He sat on the handrail near the bow and let his gaze venture forth into the sea and the horizon. He returned from his dreamy state after almost two hours and only at the moment that he heard the yells.


    They were coming from about two hundred steps westward, where there was marching a large group of elite city guards in black uniforms. After them came dozens of well-armed soldiers and then a group of knights, clad in full armor and on horseback. The first one of them was holding the flag of the kingdom, and the one after him ¨C the banner of the city. And in the center of all of this was a good-looking middle aged man with black breastplate covered in gold ornaments. The city lord.


    The yells came from the mouths of the guards who were opening space among the crowd. The procession was in the center of attention of the people of the harbor. It slowly approached a pier with a giant ship besides it. It was a beautiful galley with a strange sign upon its snow-white sails. The city lord stopped before that ship and got off his horse. He slowly got up on the ship and his knights accompanied him.


    And then from the insides of the ship appeared an old man in a stylish garb and with expensive-looking cloak upon his shoulders. His grey beard was well kept. He bowed to the city lord and the lord bowed to him as an answer. That was surprising for the commoners. Shocking, even. A noble of this level couldn¡¯t bow before anyone but the royal family.


    But Ehrir knew why. He could feel the immense warmth, calmness and might that the body of the old man was radiating. There was no mistaking it. He was strong, tens of times stronger than Ehrir, probably.


    The hair on the neck of Ehrir stood up. This man definitely was a mage.

 Chapter 4 - The Old Sorcerer

    Ehrir was awoken from the loud sound of a fist banging on the door of his cabin.


    It was the middle of the afternoon and the ship was sailing on the aquamarine waves of the Cargaen Sea. The winds were pleasant and the vessel was steadily moving to the south. The sailors were tirelessly working under the rays of the sun. The heavens were as clear as the waters below them. Not a single cloud could be seen all the way to the horizon.


    The ship had left Borhael at noon. Almost three hours had passed in this peaceful atmosphere before the galley appeared, with its giant size and sails with a weird sign painted on them. This vessel couldn¡¯t be mistaken. It was the same one that the city lord of Borhael visited.


    This galley ¨C or one of its passengers, rather ¨C was responsible for the rude interruption of Ehrir¡¯s sleep. This much he learned from the captain of his ship ¨C rough-looking middle-aged woman who looked much tougher than him. She had to be, of course ¨C there were too few female captains of ships in the north Outer Fantasy, and one had to be strong to earn that position. But there was a dangerous light in her eyes when she looked at Ehrir.


    ¡°What did you do? Damn it, the old man on that bloody ship was visited by the city lord himself. What could someone that important have to do with you? I hope you didn¡¯t get into any trouble¡­¡± There was anger in the woman¡¯s voice and Ehrir couldn¡¯t blame her for it. His own blood was like ice in his veins. He felt distant fear ¨C the old man on the galley couldn¡¯t want to see him for anything besides his Changing. He probably sensed his inner warmth on the harbor just as Ehrir sensed his power. The Undone One hoped to remain unnoticed in the harbor ¨C he wasn¡¯t anywhere near as the powerful as the sorcerer on the ship, and he hid in his cabin as soon as he sensed the warmth coming off from the old man. ¡°Well, the plan to hide failed¡±, he thought regretfully before finally arriving on the deck.


    Ehrir¡¯s ship was miniscule next to the giant galley besides it. The two were connected with a narrow plank with a length of roughly ten feet. The galley¡¯s rows were lowered and the sailors operating them were standing still and looking at the other ship. There was at least one hundred of them on the deck. It was truly massive crew for a truly massive ship.


    On the plank connecting the ships stood the old man from before. The expression on his face brightened when he saw Ehrir and at that moment the Undone One felt a surge of warmth coming towards him. It was clearly radiating from the old man¡¯s body.


    The crew suddenly went silent. The only sounds were the wind, the creaking of the deck and the noises from the water beneath. Ehrir swallowed and then started walking forward. His steps weren¡¯t loud but to him they sounded ear-piercing. He felt the looks of the crews from the both ships and those of his fellow passengers focused on him. It was if they all knew that the old man was here for him. Hell, they probably knew.


    But the most important gaze focused on him was that of the mage. His stance and expression were relaxed and his stare was as clear and calm as the sea around him. Seemingly there wasn¡¯t even a trace of aggression or bad intention in him, and yet Ehrir was expecting something terrible to happen at any moment now.  He approached the sorcerer slowly and carefully but doubted that would actually help if the old man wanted to do anything bad to him.


    Surprisingly, the magician started talking to the captain of Ehrir¡¯s ship, who was standing at the deck before he even looked at the Undone One.


    ¡°Thank you¡±, he said. His voice was deep and had some kind of undefined strength to it. Ehrir felt chills down his spine when he heard it. ¡°Now I will talk privately with this young man. You can expect that he¡¯ll probably continue his travel on my ship. In this case I will send my men to take his things and give you enough money to compensate the lost time. Take care.¡±


    With this words the old man turned to the galley and started walking towards it. Ehrir followed him silently.


    ¡°You are an interesting person, young man. You know that?¡± muttered the sorcerer when they stepped on the galley¡¯s deck. ¡°In this underdeveloped and isolated corner of the world you are the first person with real magical capabilities that I¡¯ve come across. Although you inner might in still low I could sense you on that harbor and trace you. You are not strong by any means, but I feel potential within you. And because of that I¡¯ve got an offer to make.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± Ehrir didn¡¯t know what to say to the old man, but his remarks had stirred up curiosity within the Undone One. Ehrir¡¯s words came out sudden and almost rude, but the sorcerer didn¡¯t acknowledge that.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°You¡¯ll see very soon, believe me. But I¡¯m not comfortable talking about it with so many people around. These sailors are just common folk, after all. They don¡¯t need to hear the blabber of an old mage. Be patient and wait until we arrive at my cabin.¡± The sorcerer turned his head to Ehrir and smiled.


    Ehrir couldn¡¯t do anything but follow the old man. His cabin occupied the whole of the deckhouse and it was very luxurious to say the least. It wasn¡¯t very well suited to the mental image of a magician¡¯s room that Ehrir had ¨C there were no skulls and old parchments laying around, nor strange elixirs or mummified corpses. It looked quite comfortable and extravagant, actually, like it was the room of some young noble.


    The old man sat on a throne-like chair near the wall of the cabin. There was a table before it and another chair on the other side, but Ehrir didn¡¯t move towards it.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you sit, young man?¡± asked the sorcerer with a friendly tone. ¡°I don¡¯t want this meeting to be official in any sense. Please, make yourself comfortable. Do you want any drinks? I have a lot of high-quality wine from the south on board. You¡¯ll love it. It¡¯s much better than any of the wines you northern men drink. I also have mead and ale. Do you want any?¡±


    Ehrir silently shook his head and sat on the chair offered to him. He was fearful of the old man, but knew that he must show some show courage before the sorcerer.


    ¡°Where do we begin?¡± he asked calmly.


    The old man answered him with a smile.


    ¡°Well, I guess we haven¡¯t properly introduces ourselves to each other. I¡¯ll be first.¡± He said before clearing his throat. ¡°My name is Sevrian. Sevrian of the Maelics, actually. I¡¯m part of the royal family of one of the independent city states on the other side of the sea. I¡¯m also a wizard, although you know that already. I was in the north Outer Fantasy for quite some time, because I was searching for a certain someone that my master wants to find. I failed, though. Now I¡¯m on my way to reuniting with him on the Archipelago of Claws. That¡¯s about it.¡± While saying those words the smile wasn¡¯t leaving the old man¡¯s face.


    Ehrir was silent and for a little bit the cabin became quiet. The Undone One was processing the things told to him. What fascinated him most was the fact that the old sorcerer was serving under a master. It had to be either another mage ¨C probably older and even more powerful ¨C or a monarch from the south.


    But there was another thing that awoke his curiosity.


    ¡°Why are you telling me all this if you don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll accept or refuse your offer?¡± he asked suddenly and was yet again met with a smile. But in this one there was a hint of coldness.


    ¡°Youngling, do you honestly think any of the things I told can be used against me? It¡¯s just simple facts without big importance. And even if they were important, a person like you has no reason to harm me with them. And even if you tried¡­ I would crush you.¡± The words of Sevrian weren¡¯t warm like before. ¡°Besides¡­ I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll accept my offering once you hear it.¡± He added with a friendlier voice.


    Ehrir just nodded as an answer. The words of Sevrian didn¡¯t invoke fear within him. He really didn¡¯t have any reason to try to harm the old man, after all.


    ¡°Well, I should tell you a thing or two about myself¡­¡± he began talking slowly. ¡°My name is Ehrir. Well, not my real name, but I don¡¯t know that one. I¡¯m an Undone One. I lived in poverty for a good chunk of my life, but recently I made some money and decided to travel south. There¡¯s not much more than that.¡±


    Sevrian¡¯s expression became happier.


    ¡°Of course¡­ An Undone One¡­ Interesting¡±, he murmured to himself before making his voice louder. ¡°Well, it¡¯s much better now that we know a little bit about each other, right? You see, I prefer to be straightforward. Let¡¯s get to the offer. You¡¯re an Undone One that awoke the power the Changelings left inside of your body. That¡¯s rare but doesn¡¯t necessarily make you powerful. But it makes you talented in a certain field of magic that the Changelings also excel at. Let me guess¡­ You can change the shape and form of things, right? You can probably also change materials into other ones, am I correct?¡±


    Ehrir nodded.


    ¡°Yeah, all the other Undone Ones that awoke their potential are also like that, although there are only a handful of them in the whole Outer Fantasy. I¡¯ll get to the point ¨C you have a good chance to one day become a great wizard if you are properly trained. I, as a representative of my master, can guarantee than he and I both can give you knowledge and practice if you help us find that one particular person when the right time comes. I think it¡¯s a good offer¡­ So, what do you say?¡±


    Ehrir swallowed. That offer was more than generous. It gave him a chance to rise above the simple magic of Changing, and he knew that well. It also could make his life even better. And the only price to pay was to help two already powerful magicians search for somebody? That was cheap (in his eyes, at least). He still feared the mages and despised them, but chance was worth taking.


    ¡°I¡­ I agree.¡± He said after thinking about the offer for several minutes. ¡°I will become your disciple, Sevrian of the Maelics, and of your master too.¡±


    The old¡¯s man gaze was filled with happiness when he heard the answer.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s set. You¡¯ll travel on my galley to the Archipelago of Claws. You can choose one of the cabins on the lower deck to live in. They¡¯re quite comfortable, I should say. I¡¯ll send men to get your baggage on the ship. You¡¯re free to go. But I want to see you here after dinner. I¡¯ll give you your first lessons and explain you the basics of magic. And ¨C I assure you ¨C it won¡¯t be boring at all!¡±

 Chapter 5 - The Basics of Magic

    The stars shone in the dark heavens like the eyes of some distant beasts, and cold winds blew above the waves. It was almost midnight but the sailors on the upper deck of the galley didn¡¯t stop rowing even in this hour. There were nearly three hundred of them and they worked in shifts. Ehrir quickly grew to know that.


    The Undone One was sitting on a chair in Sevrian¡¯s cabin. The room was illuminated through lamps with strange flames within them. They didn¡¯t give off warmth, just bright light in unnatural colors.  He already swept by the deckhouse a couple of hours ago, but the old man sent him away and said that he was busy. Later then he visited Ehrir¡¯s cabin on the lower deck and asked him to come with him. Now it was finally time for their first lesson.


    Sevrian was smiling as calmly as when he offered Ehrir to be his disciple. He began talking slowly and clearly.


    ¡°So, let¡¯s start from the very beginning¡±, he said while opening the big tome placed on the table before him. There were strange runes on its black cover. ¡°Do you have any knowledge of the fundamental basis of magic?¡±


    Ehrir shook his head.


    ¡°Well, then I¡¯ll explain it as simply as possible.¡± The old man started flipping through the pages of the book. ¡°Every living being, be it human, animal or a plant, has a soul and a body. The soul is believed by most to be the very essence of their being that¡¯s also immortal, while the body is just a vessel for that essence and generally doesn¡¯t last long. The ancient sorcerers from the age of the Emhaelic civilization concluded ¨C after an extensive research ¨C that this really is the truth and the body and soul are separable, although no one knows where the soul goes after the death of its ¡°shell¡±, so to speak. However, that is not the case when it comes to magicians. Our bodies and souls are fused together. That gives us the chance to use the energy of our spirit and manifest it in the physical world, and that is what the common folk refers to as magic. It is also what you¡¯ve been doing ever since you awakened this power and it can be pretty easy after the first time. Do you understand everything I said? Any questions? You don¡¯t have to answer me immediately. I know it¡¯s a lot to swallow at once.¡±


    Ehrir followed the old man¡¯s advice and went quiet. The new information in this bunch of sentences uttered by Sevrian was a lot indeed. He tried to process it as quickly as possible and soon few questions came to his mind. He didn¡¯t hesitate to ask them directly.


    ¡°How do our souls and bodies get fused together? And if they are one, what happens to the spirit after the flesh it inhabits dies?¡±


    Sevrian didn¡¯t answer right away, but when he started talking, his expression was more serious and the wrinkles upon his face looked deeper.


    ¡°I can¡¯t give an answer to your second question. No one knows what happens after we die. That is true for both normal people and mages. But I can tell you what causes one to have their spirit merge with their flesh. It¡¯s usually a traumatizing event, you see¡­ Or a near-death experience, perhaps. Some sorcerers say that the fusing happens when the soul is ready to leave its vessel, but the body lashes back at it with its will to live. It¡¯s a very strange concept¡­ I myself can¡¯t understand it very well. The fusing happens so fast, after all, and usually at an early age. It¡¯s hard to grasp it.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I see. Continue, please.¡±


    ¡°Well, if you are so hesitant, I¡¯ll do with pleasure¡±, said Sevrian without averting his gaze from the pages of the ancient book. He was staring at it since he began talking. ¡°The soul itself is speculated to be something out of this realm and the energy it creates is just an aftereffect of it touching the physical world. Because of that the might of the spirit is unlimited and can¡¯t be exhausted as it is created every second. However, you shouldn¡¯t try to use magic without stopping as it will immensely tax your physical body¡­ Ah, here it is. This is a rough sketch, depicting what somebody who uses magic without stopping looks like.¡± Sevrian flipped the book so Ehrir could take a look at it. On the yellowy parchment with colorful inks was crudely drawn a very skinny, bald man with wrinkles all over his face. His eyes were bloodshot and there were strangely looking wounds all over his body. His mouth was gaping wide open. There wasn¡¯t a single tooth in it. Ehrir felt a slight disgust while looking at the drawing, but the old man soon closed the massive tome. Then he pulled a pipe and a small pouch with tobacco from the pockets of his garb. He filled the pipe and lit it up with a small flame from his finger. Ehrir watched the creation of this strand of fire with intense look on his face. It was the first actual magic he had seen Sevrian do.


    The old man put the pipe between his teeth ¨C what remained of them, anyway ¨C and started smoking joyfully. Ehrir didn¡¯t dare to interrupt him, but soon the sorcerer spoke by himself.


    ¡°Now that I¡¯ve explained you the origin of magic, I will introduce you to the basic terms used by mages. The oldest record dividing magic into disciplines that I¡¯ve seen was at least two thousand years old and there are probably many that are even more ancient. The main fields of study when it comes to sorcery are Creation, Destruction, Conquering, Manipulation and Control. Your power to change things falls under the category of Manipulation, although it¡¯s still very basic. There are numerous lesser subjects into any of these broad categories and most mages specialize in just one of them. I, for example, am a defensive type of wizard and I am quite good at creating fields and barriers which is usually regarded as a Creation type of skill¡­¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    At this point Ehrir couldn¡¯t help but ask the question that was stirring up within him ever since he heard the names of the different fields of magic.


    ¡°But why do I have a talent in this particular kind of magic? Does everyone start out in a different field of sorcery?¡± he asked abruptly.


    Sevrian shook his head intensely before he started speaking again.


    ¡°You and the other Undone Ones are an exception. One of few exceptions, actually. That¡¯s because most Changelings are experts when it comes to Manipulation. I¡¯m unfamiliar with the ritual they use to extend their lives ¨C the same one that leaves people like you after it has ended. This process is the great secrets of their¡­ caste is probably the right word. Well, whatever. What I was trying to say is that they probably use Manipulation for the ritual and that probably changes your body and indirectly your soul, as it can¡¯t be directly influenced by this field of wizardry. The changes had their effect on your spirit and made you good at Manipulation when it was fused with your flesh. That is my understanding of it, at least. My mentor¡¯s knowledge is supreme to mine and he will probably be able to explain things to you a whole lot better. To say it shortly ¨C a normal new sorcerer would be like a blank sheet of paper, with small potential in all fields. However, you have a bigger talent in one discipline and smaller ones at all the others. I wouldn¡¯t say it is necessarily a bad thing ¨C under the right master you can develop in all kinds of magic, you¡¯ll just be naturally better at Manipulation.¡±


    Ehrir could just nod as an answer.


    The old man had a lot to tell and hours went by while he and Ehrir sat in his room at the deckhouse.  The Undone One got familiar with the strange basis of magic very quick and the new knowledge filled his head up and gave him a headache of monstrous proportions. He learned why he couldn¡¯t make precious metals (he had to have more power and additional knowledge in the field of alchemy) and why he couldn¡¯t transform soft substances into hard ones or gases into solid matter (he needed more power and control over it, of course). He learned that he only changed Rahel¡¯s bones into flesh because at the moment of awakening his magic powers he had immense control over his own spirit energy. He learned all that and countless more things. Additionally, he received a promise that he would be taught Emhaelic and also the common tongue used on the other side of the Cargaen Sea. The old man¡¯s knowledge ¨C not only when it came to magic ¨C seemed as deep and vast as the sea beneath them and Ehrir could only wonder how wise would Sevrian¡¯s master be. He received the impression that this shadowy figure of whom the sorcerer talked with great respect was much older and powerful than him. And Sevrian already seemed at least eighty years old. The Undone One could only imagine how mummified would this master look like.


    ***


    At the break of dawn, when the sun still hadn¡¯t risen from the horizon and the windows of the cabin were filled with gracious pink light, a loud knock woke Ehrir up.


    He and Sevrian had both fallen asleep in their chairs. It wasn¡¯t the most comfortable place to take long naps and Ehrir felt stiff. His old scars and the Brand ached.


    On the other side of table the old man was also waking up. At that moment the knock on the door repeated. Sevrian looked at it with disdain. Then he saw Ehrir.


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re still here. Good. Please, go and tell the ones knocking on that door to return later. It¡¯s probably the captain, he¡¯s a weird sort of bugger and I can¡¯t deal with his stupidity right now¡±, said he with a sleepy tone in his voice. It was clear as day that he wasn¡¯t done with sleeping.


    Ehrir nodded and got up slowly. The stiffness went away quickly and he started walking towards the door of the cabin. Meanwhile the bangs got louder. His step quickened.


    He opened the door with an abrupt movement and the light from outside flooded in. It blinded him for a moment but after a few blinks his sight recovered. A strange scene appeared before him.


    Before him stood two people ¨C a young man and woman, both dressed in simple dark sea jerkins and pants. There were green headbands on their heads. They looked a lot like each other ¨C they both had the same well-defined jaws and sharp noses, the same raven hair and icy blue eyes. But their identical look wasn¡¯t the strange thing.


    The legs of the girl were missing up until the middle of her thighs and she was sitting in a strange looking chair with wheels on both sides of it. The young man was behind her and he was probably pushing the chair to move it, but one could see the bizarre scars covering his neck and arms. They were way deeper than those on Ehrir¡¯s abdomen and much more numerous. The Undone One could only ask himself what happened to those two.


    The man spoke first and there were sparks of suspicion in his eyes.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± he said without hesitation. His voice was as strong as steel and as icy as his eyes. ¡°Where is our master?¡±


    He was loud enough to be heard by Sevrian and the old man looked at the door with soft happiness in his eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± His voice boomed from the inside of the cabin. ¡°Ehrir, let them enter.¡±


    The Undone One stepped away from the door and watched as the man and woman entered the cabin. The girl in the chair laid her gaze on him and nodded with an emotionless expression. He couldn¡¯t guess why.


    Meanwhile a wide smile had surged up on Sevrian¡¯s face. He waited calmly for everyone to take position within the room and then began talking.


    ¡°Well, if that isn¡¯t a pleasant surprise! I¡¯m happy to see you, my young friends. A lot of things happened here. Most importantly ¨C I have a new disciple besides you. He is that cheerful man over there. His name is Ehrir. Ehrir, those are Varhel and his sister Nalia. They are also my disciples and have been on a¡­¡±


    ¡°Master, I¡¯m sorry to interrupt, but there are urgent news you need to hear.¡± The man ¨C Varhel ¨C spoke suddenly and quickly. There was a worried expression on his face.


    Sevrian¡¯s expression became serious all of a sudden.


    ¡°Then go on and speak.¡±


    The young man nodded.


    ¡°Master, a giant storm is moving towards us. It¡¯s more than unusual for this part of the sea and this part of the year, but the galley can certainly survive it without damage. The worse thing is that within the storm is moving a ship of massive proportions. And on its flag is the sign of the Pirates of the Purple Flame!¡±

 Chapter 6 - Into the Storm

    Seemingly the face of Sevrian didn¡¯t change after hearing the news, but Ehrir could sense how a great burden weighed his shoulders down all of a sudden. The old man sighed deeply and focused his gaze on Varhel.


    ¡°I¡¯ll need more information on the matter. Nalia, you should begin first. Your senses are the most useful in a storm¡±, said he with a serious tone and then turned to Ehrir. ¡°You can go if you want, young man. But it wouldn¡¯t hurt if you stayed. There is probably a battle waiting ahead of us and you¡¯ll be an important part of it.¡±


    Ehrir licked his lips nervously. The words he just heard ¨C both those of Varhel and the old man ¨C were more than unpleasant for his ears. Storm? Pirates? Battle? His heartbeat quickened, but he didn¡¯t move. Knowledge was power and he needed to know what he was getting into.


    Sevrian and Varhel threw their looks at him, but he only nodded reassuringly. He wasn¡¯t getting anywhere.


    Nalia didn¡¯t gaze at him. She just started talking. Her voice was as clear as the morning skies and cold as winter winds.


    ¡°Master, the storm is coming in our direction from the south and was at roughly one hundred and twenty leagues from the galley when we saw it. It¡¯s moving fast, so it¡¯ll probably be seen on the horizon soon. The ship within it is an enormous frigate. My brother knows more details about it. It¡¯s shielded from the storm by a magical barrier of considerable strength. Most of the crew are ordinary people, although there a few with weak magical powers. Except the mates who are mostly of a mediocre level, that is. I sensed their famous first mate and he is indeed very good when it comes to creating defenses. Their captain is still the most dangerous among them. I didn¡¯t see him doing anything in particular, but his inner energy is enormous. The rumors about his destructive power are probably true.¡±


    After she finished talking Sevrian¡¯s face had become paler. Ehrir didn¡¯t look very good either. How could he and the others fight against pirates who had so many sorcerers among them? The Undone One shuddered.


    ¡°I want to know exactly what I¡¯m up against. Nalia, compare the strength of the mages on the pirates¡¯ ship to mine own might.¡± The old man wasn¡¯t looking very good, but the flame of determination burned in his eyes.


    The young woman nodded and began speaking anew.


    ¡°The mates are not really powerful. Judging by the strength of our new comrade over here, they are slightly below him. If I fight next to him we will be able to take them out easily. However, the first mate can¡¯t be handled by Varhel alone, although he is weaker than you. The three of us will have to attack together to have a chance against him. But only you, master, have enough strength to defeat the captain. He is almost at your level and would be quite dangerous with his destructive potential.¡±


    Sevrian didn¡¯t say anything immediately. His face twisted into a thoughtful expression.


    ¡°Nalia and Ehrir, go to your cabins. You need to rest if we¡¯re to engage in a fight soon. Varhel, you remain here. I need to hear the details about the storm and the pirates¡¯ ship itself.¡±


    Varhel didn¡¯t hesitate to start explaining, but Ehrir didn¡¯t focus on the young man¡¯s words. He opened the door on the cabin and held it as Nalia left the room. She pushed the wheels of her chair by herself, although not without struggle. Ehrir wondered if he should offer her help, but decided not to. Her will seemed as strong as steel. Such people would take any helping hand for an insult towards them. Ehrir knew homeless people like that and they were tough. Nalia was also hardy and her crippled state probably made her even more so.


    The two walked next to each other between the rowing sailors. The simple seamen greeted them with respectful nods, but didn¡¯t stop their work. Ehrir¡¯s curiosity was awoken and he wondered how Varhel and his sister could see far beyond the horizon and into the coming storm.


    At the middle of their path Nalia spoke.


    ¡°I knew what you¡¯re thinking right now. You probably wonder about what I¡¯m capable of, but that shall remain a secret. I¡¯m also quite a strange view, huh?¡± Her tone was filled with irony, but there was no smile upon her lips. ¡°Well, I can¡¯t say that I am not. But still¡­ I¡¯m pretty good with magic, although I can only hope to one day become like master Sevrian. And currently you¡¯re weaker than me, so don¡¯t go around throwing jokes about my knees or ankles or I¡¯ll end you.¡±


    At this moment a smile surged up on her face. She began laughing wholeheartedly and loudly. Ehrir understood that all this coldness was more of a fa?ade. He smiled too.


    ¡°What a strange sense of humor¡­¡± he muttered to himself, but Nalia heard him.


    ¡°I know, right?¡± she said before starting to chuckle again. ¡°Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. My brother is just too protective of his little crippled sister and I have to act all cold and indifferent when I¡¯m meeting new people. Well, I hope we can get along well. I mean, we¡¯ll have to if we want to survive the upcoming battle.¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Ehrir grinned in answer, although he felt uneasiness when he thought about the pirates and all of that.


    ¡°I¡¯m looking up to you for that. You¡¯re a senior disciple, after all.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right¡­You should know better than that.¡± Nalia went silent for a second. ¡°Ya¡¯ know what? You¡¯re the first disciple of the master that me and my brother encounter. Besides us, of course. Therefore you deserve a treat from your seniors¡­ I¡¯ll give you a bottle of really fine alcohol from the south. I¡¯m not sure what is in there, though. I haven¡¯t tried it yet. So drink it with caution, it may be some damn poison. I¡¯ll give it to ya¡¯ after the battle. I can give it now, but better not. It¡¯s not good to go killing pirates while drunk.¡±


    Ehrir didn¡¯t know what to answer, so he just smirked. Nalia looked at his expression and ¨C for some reason ¨C exploded in laughter again.


    ***


    Ehrir slept for solid two and a half hours before one of the sailors woke him up. There was a worrisome expression on his face ¨C a mix of terror and confusion.


    ¡°Milord, please come with me. And be faster, if you can.¡± His voice was also filled with fear. Ehrir¡¯s expression darkened. He already knew what had happened. Even if he didn¡¯t see on the sailor¡¯s face, he could sense it. The ship around him was shaking irresistibly. It was, without a doubt, in the middle of a storm.


    He quickly put on his sea jerkin and seafarer boots and left the cabin. There was not a single man on the lower deck except for him and the sailor.


    ¡°Shit. Why do I have to be so late¡­? Are they already here?¡±


    ¡°Yes, milord. Master Sevrian is talking with their captain right now. He hopes that this whole thing can have a peaceful end. I don¡¯t believe that, though.¡± The seafarer¡¯s face was grim and he was clenching the cutlass hanging on his waist.


    Ehrir went silent and followed the man to the door leading to the upper deck. The scene that appeared before him when he finally got there was straight out of some lunatic¡¯s nightmares.


    The storm was raging all around him and the sheer size of the waves made his stomach tighten. The sails were stowed and the oars were lowered. There was a bright barrier a few steps away from the ship¡¯s handrails that engulfed it from all sides. The storm waves were hitting that shield without success, but their might ¨C and that of the wind ¨C was still shaking the whole galley.


    On the deck were gathered almost all of the crew members and they filled it entirely. All of them had some kind of sharp weapon in their hands, be it axe, dagger or a cutlass. On the top of the deckhouse was Sevrian along with his two disciples, the captain of the ships and the first mate. Varhel was holding his sister¡¯s chair tightly so it could not be overturned by the shaking.


    The sailors made path for Ehrir to walk to the deckhouse. There was hope in their gazes when they looked at him. It was a new feeling for the Undone One. Nobody had ever put trust on him nor had anyone believed in him before.


    Their enemies¡¯ vessel stood at about fifty feet from the right side of the ship. It was bigger than the galley, although not by too much, and it was wholly protected by a shining defensive barrier. The frigate was taller and had more sails and masts than the galley. On the high end of the main one was hanging a big black flag with a purple flame on it. There were people on the deck on its deck too. And they looked rougher and more capable for fighting than the ones on the galley. Upon the deckhouse there were gathered the captain of the foes (or what looked like him) ¨C a tall, muscular man with long blond beard. Around him were his closest subordinates.


    As Ehrir walked towards the galley¡¯s deckhouse, he heard the negotiations going between the two sorcerers. Both of their voice boomed with unnatural loudness.


    ¡°I¡¯ll say it again, Hildos. There is no need to shed any blood here. Both of our crews are equally strong and it would only be a waste if we tried to kill each other. Nobody would win in the current situation¡±, said Sevrian. The expression on his face was dark, but there was no fear showing. His voice, echoed clearly above the waves.


    It was hard to see the face of the pirates¡¯ captain, but there was cheerfulness in his tone.


    ¡°Do you honestly believe the crap that comes out of your mouth? I know who you are, Sevrian. You¡¯re nothing more than just one of the dozens of the puppets working for Ostrias ¡°the Ashen Gaze¡±. That bastard is controlling the whole Archipelago of Claws by now and everyone there is kneeling and bowing their heads to him like he has come down from the heavens or something. Hell, I would kneel to him if my ship had to dock there. Even I know that he is untouchable. But you, on the other hand? You are just too tiny compared to your master for him to care. And all you have are those weaklings behind you. Is that what you call a capable wizard?¡± Hildos giggled uncontrollably. His laugh was deep and sincere.


    While the two sorcerers were negotiating, Ehrir finally reached the deckhouse and greeted Nalia and Varhel with a nod. The old man looked at him.


    ¡°Well, you are already here, young man¡­ Maybe I won¡¯t need your strength after all.¡± He muttered. His voice was quiet now, although he still yelled so the waves and winds couldn¡¯t drown the sound. ¡°Don¡¯t let your guard now.¡±


    At that time the laughter of the pirates¡¯ captain stopped and he finally spoke again.


    ¡°Hear me well, Sevrian, for I don¡¯t intend to repeat myself. It is true that we can part ways peacefully. But I don¡¯t intend to just let you go your way without even touching you. Let me be clear! I want half of your food, water, alcohol and money, and also any book regarding spells that¡¯s on your ship! Hell, I¡¯ll take a quarter if needed and you¡¯ll never see my ugly face again. But that doesn¡¯t mean that you have to be a skinflint now! Just give me what I want and I¡¯ll be outta here!¡±


    Ehrir swallowed. In his mind the offer was justifiable if they didn¡¯t have to fight these pirates. But half of the ship¡¯s supplies¡­ That was too much.


    The Undone One looked at Sevrian. Sweat had started dripping down the old man¡¯s face, although cold wind blew all around him. His mouth was moving, but no words were coming out. Ehrir quickly understood what he was silently saying.


    ¡°The master will not forgive me. The master will not forgive me.¡±


    Happily, the old man quickly got a hold of himself. He looked straight at Hildos. There was a dangerous shine in his eyes and his expression was grave. The words he spoke were said with might that shook Ehrir.


    ¡°I refuse!¡±

 Chapter 7 - Wings, Purple Flames And Lightning

    The words of Sevrian echoed clearly, louder than the winds and waves of the storm. They reached the ears of the pirates¡¯ captain and wide grin appeared on his bearded face. He looked happy, but there was coldness and hatred within his hazel eyes.


    ¡°That is not I wanted to hear, Sevrian. And you know that, damn it!¡± He shrugged his shoulders mockingly. ¡°You leave me no choice. Men, move this ship over there and let us destroy those bastards!¡± He pulled out his cutlass and pointed it at the galley. His stance was confident.


    Dozens of screams came out of the pirates¡¯ mouths and wide smiles emerged on their faces. Soon the frigate started turning towards the ship of Sevrian.


    Ehrir swallowed. The old man¡¯s face was emotionless, while Varhel and Nalia had serious expressions. The sailors were no better ¨C they held their weapons without courage. Those were no warriors and they definitely didn¡¯t look ready to spill blood.


    Luckily, the captain of the galley got a hold of himself first. His orders were loud and sharp and soon the whole deck was filled with movement. The sailors were getting ready to defend themselves from a direct attack, but also to maneuver the ship far from the enemy frigate. Soon part of the oars began moving again.


    At that moment the old man finally spoke. His voice was trembling.


    ¡°Varhel. I need you to damage their shield as much as possible. Be careful not to be hit by spells. I¡¯ll open part of our barrier for you. Get moving, young man. I hope you are successful.¡±


    Varhel didn¡¯t utter a word for an answer nor did he showed understanding in any way. He just took a strange pose and focused his gaze far into the horizon.


    What happened next made Ehrir drop his jaw.


    The hands of the young man ¨C extended into the air ¨C quickly started changing. One could see the bones into of them getting thinner and new ones forming. Soon feathers grew from his flesh and covered the strange membrane that appeared beneath. The process was quickly finished. Now Varhel didn¡¯t have arms but instead was armed with a pair of giant black wings.


    ¡°It¡¯s amazing, isn¡¯t it?¡± muttered Nalia. ¡°My brother is a genius when it comes to Creation, but this skill is almost counted as Manipulation.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care what it is counted as, but it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s insane, honestly.¡± Ehrir couldn¡¯t take his eyes off of the young man who started waving his wings and ran towards the handrail. Then he jumped on it and his running turned into an elegant flight. He left the barrier around the galley and started soaring in the skies with incredible grace through the raging storm. Different magic powers were blasting from his body and hitting the frigate¡¯s shield ¨C flames, lightning and rays of pure white, blinding light. The pirates didn¡¯t hesitate to counterattack. Their own spells were leaving through small gaps in the barrier, but Varhel was able to evade them all.


    Not all of the enemies¡¯ attacks were aimed at Sevrian¡¯s disciple. Some of them striked the shield around the galley, but failed to do any visible damage. Despite that Ehrir could see the intense expression on the old man¡¯s face. It looked like he was putting his whole power into strengthening the barrier.


    ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there, younglings¡±, he yelled suddenly at Nalia and Ehrir. ¡°Get ready! The enemies are approaching!¡±


    There was truth in his words. The frigate had gotten dangerously near and from its deckhouse a powerful stream of magic projectiles was aiming at the galley. Most of them were weak and small when compared to the attacks of Varhel, but from time to time the captain created large balls of purple flames, webs of light rays in bizarre colors or small lightnings.


    Ehrir watched this spectacle of power and light in awe. The scene before him was both mesmerizing and scary. After almost half a minute he snapped out of it and looked around. His eyes stopped upon Nalia. She was seemingly focused on the enemy ship. Her body wasn¡¯t moving, but her eyes danced around. When she noticed Ehrir¡¯s gaze, a slight smile appeared upon her lips.


    ¡°Watch the enemies¡¯ ship carefully... You¡¯ll see what a real Conquering can do!¡±


    Ehrir turned his eyes towards the frigate. On its deck some kind of chaos had stirred up. The pirates were paling and blood was running from the noses and mouths of many amongst them. Some were falling and quickly losing consciousness.


    ¡°What¡­  Are you doing this?¡± The Undone One felt shocked yet again.


    Nalia¡¯s smile grew into a grin.


    ¡°Of course. Are you surprised? Eh, I guess it¡¯s understandable. My skills are pretty good for my age, after all.¡±


    Ehrir couldn¡¯t think of an answer. He knew what the young woman was doing ¨C Sevrian had talked to him about this particular discipline in detail ¨C but her power surprised him. The core of Conquering was to directly overpower someone¡¯s soul energy and thus weaken the connection to his body, leading to temporary or permanent paralysis, heavy internal injuries and sometimes death. But a sorcerer had to have an exceptional control of his own power and long training before achieving the level of mastery showed by Nalia. It was truly breath-taking.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    But on the enemies¡¯ deckhouse nobody except for the weakest of mates fell to Nalia¡¯s power. The captain didn¡¯t look impressed at all. He was focused onto his own hands which were emitting bright purple light.


    ¡°Damn it¡­ This is not going to end well!¡±  Sevrian was drippling in sweat and he was panting heavily. ¡°I cannot hold it up much longer!¡±


    Ehrir shivered. If the mighty Sevrian couldn¡¯t defend the ship from the pirates, what could he do against such a force in a direct fight? He couldn¡¯t do anything. He couldn¡¯t¡­


    Suddenly a small revelation surged up in his mind. He could do more than anything. He won in a fight while outnumbered by three people, all thanks to his Changing. In the chaos of this battle he could get close enough to use his power without too big of a danger for his life. The warmth inside of him rose and filled his insides as he grabbed onto the energy of his soul. And then came the calming feeling of the magic burning in his veins. The fear was suddenly suppressed. It didn¡¯t go away, but at least he stopped shuddering.


    On the enemy ship Hildos was forming a big purple sphere of energy while his first mate slowly shrank the size of the frigate¡¯s defensive barrier. Because of this the highest point of the masts and the bow were exposed to the blows of Varhel and annihilated by him, but the pirates didn¡¯t even lay an eye on the destruction caused by the young man. Their gazes were fixated upon the captain and there was admiration within them.


    Hildos quickly finished his sphere and let it fly towards the ends of the barrier. But it didn¡¯t go out of the shield. Instead it¡­ somehow merged with it. The shield started changing its color to purple and on its surface appeared hundreds of small sparks.


    ¡°Now, Remto!¡± The captain¡¯s thunderous voice sounded suddenly. ¡°Extend the barrier!¡±


    The first mate grinned. It was obvious that holding the ship¡¯s defenses was hard on him ¨C he was sweating and shaking as if he had a fever, but this didn¡¯t make his smile less worrying.


    The shield started extending fast. Sevrian¡¯s expression became even darker. He muttered something under his breath. Ehrir knew it was swear. And it not of the nicest ones, either.


    ¡°Everyone, grab onto something!¡± He shouted and his voice rang full of might. ¡°What¡¯s coming is going to shake us a little bit¡­ Damned pirates! Blending magic like that¡­¡±


    Ehrir watched in fear ¨C because even the warmth of the magic flowing through him couldn¡¯t match the horror rising in his mind ¨C as the frigate¡¯s barrier got bigger and bigger and it finally stopped at just a few steps from the galley¡¯s defense. And then from its purple surface giant bolts of lightning started rising and hitting Sevrian¡¯s shield. Every hit was accompanied by a boom that resonated around. The sheer might of the lightning meeting the shield made both ships shake wildly.


    Ehrir counted the thunderbolts in his mind. He had nothing else to do in the middle of all this. Five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Twenty-five. The lightning wasn¡¯t just aiming at the barrier. It was hitting the water surface all around the enemy ship and created a thick web of light and electricity around the frigate¡¯s ship. Varhel couldn¡¯t even get near it so he flew to a distant and safe position.


    Twenty-eight. The old man was holding onto the galley¡¯s handrail. His whole body was trembling. Twenty-nine. On the barrier around the ship countless small cracks had appeared. Thirty. Nalia¡¯s face had a dark expression on it. Another two of the enemies¡¯ mates fell, but that didn¡¯t matter.


    The thirty-first lightning shattered the shield with an ear-piercing boom. The waves rushed towards the galley and the whole ship shook. Ehrir grabbed onto the handrail and threw off into the sea. He felt as if his intestines were dancing inside of his body.


    When the barrier was shattered the thunderbolts from the frigate stopped too. The last one hit the galley¡¯s mast and its top was immediately covered in flames.


    ¡°Well, well¡­¡± The powered voice of Hildos surpassed the loudness of the storm. ¡°You don¡¯t look too good, Sevrian. But it¡¯s a little bit too late. Remto, lower this shield. Men, go straight towards the other ship! Let¡¯s do a fine and quick boarding! If you do well enough¡­ then the wine on the following feast will be on me!¡± His words were accompanied with laughter that made Ehrir shiver.


    ¡°The frigate was quickly nearing. The defense around it fell instantly. Varhel¡¯s attack started raining toward the deck, but it was met with a steady stream of spells which nullified almost all of them.


    The mates on the enemies¡¯ deckhouse took the chance and soon the galley was bombarded with small spears of light and balls of flames. The sailors starting falling one by one and chaos broke amongst them. In this situation the shouts of the captain were useless. The seafarers weren¡¯t used to battles and military formations. Only a handful of them kept their calmness and got ready to defend themselves against the pirates.


    When the frigate got close enough for boarding almost quarter of both crews wasn¡¯t in condition for fighting. The mates did their jobs fine, but Nalia was merciless too.


    ¡°Remember, men ¨C don¡¯t destroy anything more than what needs to be destroyed! This is a fine ship, after all¡­ Why burn it down when we can take it for ourselves?¡± Hildos screamed for one final time before the pirates started jumping on the galley¡¯s deck. Their steel was met by the sailors¡¯ weapons. Soon screams pierced the air and blood was spilled.


    Ehrir watched all this in horror. He felt sick inside. The warmth had gone away. He would¡¯ve probably be in this passive state until someone dealt him a mortal blow if it wasn¡¯t for the desperate yell of Sevrian.


    ¡°Fight, young man! Damn it all¡­ you have to fight!¡± The old man was doing well, as every enemy that got near him received a quick energy blast to the head. There were no real threats to him for now, as both the first mate and Hildos were still on the frigate¡¯s deckhouse, just standing there while smiling widely. But the overall situation for the galley¡¯s crew wasn¡¯t good. They desperately needed another mage.


    Happily, Ehrir got a hold of himself after hearing the old man¡¯s cries. He turned around and it took him a second to localize one of the enemy¡¯s mates that were surrounding Nalia. She was doing well against so many sorcerers but obviously her Conquering was too weak to overpower all of them. The Undone One jumped towards one of the mates and punched him in the back with all the strength he could gather. One second was just enough for the warmth of magic to fill him. The man fell on the ground and didn¡¯t stand up. Ehrir had turned his bones into glass.


    From this point on the Undone One sunk into the chaos of the battle. The fear was still raging within him, but he had given up fighting it. Instead he embraced his animalistic instincts. And they told him to kill or be killed. The warmth just empowered them additionally. Soon under his hands many people fell. People with blood turned into boiling water or bones changed to wood.

 Chapter 8 - Remto, the First Mate

    The fight raged on along with the storm itself. It was a wonder that the waves hitting the galley didn¡¯t sink it, but even without that the situation there was bad enough. The pirates were slowly overpowering the sailors and Sevrian, along with his disciples, had too much work to spread his attention everywhere. And Hildos and his first mate hadn¡¯t even joined the fight yet!


    Ehrir cussed silently and used his dagger to fend off another pirate. There wasn¡¯t elegance or skill in his movements, but he still hadn¡¯t died, after all, so it was good enough. He had killed quite a few enemies so far, mainly with Changing. He managed to take down only two of the mates, though ¨C those were tough and he could properly attack them only when they weren¡¯t expecting it. And such a chance rarely popped up.


    Nalia was very successful at thinning out the number of mates on the deck and she had already taken out most of them. Ehrir was guarding her from the ordinary pirates. It wasn¡¯t hard, especially when the old man was near him. Well, he wasn¡¯t there at all times ¨C Sevrian jumped from one end of the ship to the other with superhuman might and wreaked havoc amongst the pirates¡¯ ranks. It was mesmerizing to watch this unexpected surge of power ¨C not just magical but also physical ¨C that Sevrian displayed. It was unnatural and exactly this made it so enthralling.


    Varhel was still flying around and was desperately trying to do some damage to the enemies¡¯ ship. He was rather unsuccessful, as Hildos¡¯ first mate was able to block most of the attack with ease. From time to time the young man flew to the galley and devastated the pirates. His attacks were powerful, but too uncontrolled and a large amount of them could damage the ship beyond repair. In this situation he couldn¡¯t go all out in terms of might.


    Although Ehrir couldn¡¯t focus his attention on the overall direction of the battle, he could see that it was getting to a dead end without either of the sides winning. That was a rather unpleasant thought, mainly because the best fighters amongst the enemies still hadn¡¯t made their move. But he didn¡¯t really have the time to worry about that. Another pirate attacked him and received a cut in the arm before Ehrir rushed at him and grabbed his wrists. Soon the man fell down with bones changed into glass. The sound they made when shattered wasn¡¯t among the nicest.


    The Undone One looked down at his clothes. They were torn and soaked in blood. Most of it wasn¡¯t his, but he a few wounds on his torso. They were slowing him down, but he tried to ignore them. A few new scars on his body wouldn¡¯t be a pleasant sight, but he could live just fine with them.


    While this thoughts were crossing his minds, he heard a loud bang from his left.


    ¡°Well, it was about time I joined in, wasn¡¯t it?¡± A raspy voice powered by magic filled the air. But it didn¡¯t belong to Hildos nor Sevrian. That narrowed the options to one. It had to be Remto ¨C the first mate among the pirates.


    Ehrir swore as a loud boom shook the whole ship. The Undone One took the chance to look at the left. The battle was waged at no more than just fifteen feet from him, on the deck straight next to the deckhouse. The old man and the first mate were exchanging powerful blows with fists engulfed by strange spheres of light. Every hit was met with another one and their power made the galley¡¯s handrails crack. In this direct fist fight Remto had the edge as he was quicker and younger. But the old man wasn¡¯t nowhere near bad either. His movements were slow and not as coordinated as these of his opponent, but the sheer might of his blows compensated for that.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t think that I¡¯ll stand behind forever and let my men do the dirty work, would you?¡± Just as the battle between Sevrian and Remto neared its culmination a familiar voice sounded. Ehrir felt a cold shiver down his spine. Hildos had arrived.


    The enemies¡¯ captain got on the galley with a graceful jump and as he landed three rays of lightning came out of his left hand and took down several sailors. It happened in a split second. His destructive powers were really something else.


    ¡°Remto, get out of my way. Also, do me a favor and slaughter this bastard¡¯s apprentices!¡± Hildos shouted as he ran towards Sevrian. The old man welcomed the flames surging out of his hands with a quickly created shield. It instantly shattered when the captain¡¯s magic. The fact that Hildos could destroy Sevrian¡¯s defenses with a single hit was terrifying. But Ehrir had no chance to worry for the old man as the first mate got within his vicinity with one enormous jump.


    As he walked towards Ehrir and Nalia, Remto¡¯s skin covered with a thin layer of some shining substance of an unknown kind. It made him look colorless and otherworldly.


    ¡°So I have to deal with ya¡¯ two, eh? Heh¡­ It won¡¯t be much of a struggle.¡± An unnatural grin hanged on his pale face. His reddened eyes¡¯ gaze felt cold and distanced.


    Ehrir felt fear before the might of this man, but didn¡¯t back up. Behind his back stood Nalia and she actually had a chance to win against him. He had to defend her as best as possible.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    The Undone One took a defensive stance and quickly touched the deck beneath his feet. A thought was enough to form a long wooden pike out of the planks. It probably wouldn¡¯t help him much, but he could try. He jumped towards the first mate and let the magic fill him to the brim. The weapon¡¯s top changed into iron.


    Remto didn¡¯t do a thing to evade the incoming attack. He just stood there without even blinking. It was justified, of course. Ehrir quickly learned that after the pike broke upon meeting the shining membrane surrounding the man.


    ¡°Oh¡­ Raw Manipulation? That¡¯s good and all, but it¡¯s pretty weak, kid. You can¡¯t hope that this can do damage to me.¡± The first mate¡¯s voice had a bit of irony to it. He smiled yet again and balls of flames started forming in both of his palms. ¡°I may not be as powerful as my good ol¡¯ captain when it comes to destroying things, but this¡­ This can definitely burn you to a crisp.¡±


    Ehrir swallowed. He couldn¡¯t think of a way to defeat Remto nor was he able to run away from the sorcerer. Nalia was trying her best ¨C he saw her struggling earlier ¨C to overpower the first mate¡¯s soul, but it was useless. Sevrian was desperately fighting with Hildos ¨C or defending himself against the captain, rather ¨C so he wasn¡¯t able to come and aid them. So the only person who could help them was¡­


    Just as Ehrir thought that a big wave of flames exploded in front of him, hiding Remto from sight. A moment later Varhel landed on the deck heavily. His arms had taken normal form now and there was bone-chilling, furious expression on his face.


    ¡°You dare try to get near my sister?! You¡¯ll die for that, pig!¡± He shouted as new flames emerged from his body. His powers were really something else. He was far above Ehrir and his sheer force was surpassing even his sister¡¯s.


    But out of the flaming deck in front of them came out Remto. Unscathed. Varhel¡¯s attacks hadn¡¯t done anything to him, although his shield looked darker and thinner than before.


    ¡°Now it¡¯s my turn, youngsters¡±, he said mockingly. And then from his palms all hell broke loose.


    Ehrir could only watch as Varhel and the first mate began an uneven duel. Soon a good part of the deckhouse had burned to ashes, revealing Sevrian¡¯s cabin beneath. And still the two exchanged mighty attacks that nullified each other, although Remto clearly had the advantage of might, experience and, most importantly, defense. There was no way the young man could win by himself.


    The Undone One remembered Nalia¡¯s words. ¡°The three of us will have to attack together to have a chance against him¡±, she said. He looked at the young woman and met her eyes. She nodded as if thinking the same, then made him a sign to come nearer.


    ¡°We have to step in! There¡¯s no other way if we want to win against this sorcerer!¡± Nalia yelled as Ehrir approached. She had a worried expression and her voice trembled slightly.


    ¡°Agreed!¡± The warmth helped Ehrir push the fear to the back of his mind. ¡°Just tell me what to do. I can¡¯t help much¡­ But I¡¯ll try!¡±


    Nalia exchanged few sentences with the Undone One. He could only nod and try his hardest to memorize them in the surrounding chaos. After receiving the information he turned around and headed towards the battling mages. On the way there he used Manipulation to create a long spear-like weapon, entirely made out of solid steel.


    When Ehrir got close enough he started shouting.


    ¡°Varhel¡­ Just break his shield! Leave the rest to Nalia and me!¡±


    The young man looked at him for a split second. His gaze was cold and prideful.


    ¡°I can do it alone!  I can kill him! You¡¯ll be hurt if you get closer¡­ Have faith in me!¡± He answered after a moment without stopping his endless attacks towards Remto.


    ¡°Varhel, please! Just listen to me and Ehrir! You¡¯ll die because of this stupid pride!¡± Nalia¡¯s voice sounded from behind. It was empowered with magic and it couldn¡¯t reach Sevrian¡¯s loudness, but Varhel heard it and stopped his attacks for a brief bit. And then he just nodded.


    Suddenly his blows redirected straight to the first mate¡¯s shield. It quickly darkened and started fading away while covered in cracks. But in return Varhel received few burns on his chest and arms. The young man completely ignored them. Only a slight smile appeared on his face when the shield finally broke down. At this instant the young man jumped back to his sister¡¯s position. He wasn¡¯t looking good ¨C bruised, bloodied and burned. But there was no pain in his eyes.


    At the moment Remto¡¯s defense fell down Nalia bombarded him with quick, concentrated strands of Conquering magic. It was well timed as in this exact moment the first mate was in his most disoriented and weakened state. The Conquering shook him and he started bleeding from his nose and mouth. His already pale face became snow-white.


    It was time for Ehrir to attack. He took an attacking pose and threw the steel spear with all his might. It went straight towards Remto¡¯s head. But it wasn¡¯t enough.


    The sorcerer caught it mid-air with some form of inhuman reflex.


    ¡°Heh, heh, heh¡­ I¡¯m not an easy target, ya¡¯ hear¡­ Wait¡­ What¡­ What did ya¡¯ do to me?¡± Remto¡¯s eyes widened as he looked down and saw another spear sunken in his stomach. The blood was already gushing out, painting his shirt red.


    Ehrir looked at him with disgust written all over his face.


    ¡°Well, Nalia, you were right¡­ He was disoriented enough to not sense the second spear.¡±


    While Varhel was dealing with Remto¡¯s shield, Ehrir created one more weapon and later threw it right after the first one. The trajectories of the two roughly matched and the pirate didn¡¯t have to chance to sense it. It was Nalia¡¯s idea and it worked just fine.


    ¡°Well¡­ Good job, kids. We may meet in hell one day.¡±  Remto smiled for one final time and fell to the ground. Soon his eyes became glassy and shining. Dead.


    Varhel, Nalia and Ehrir looked at each other.


    ¡°Well, I guess we did a good job¡­¡± finally said Varhel. ¡°But we need to help our master.¡±


    He was right. Near them ¨C too near, in fact ¨C Sevrian and Hildos still were still battling. And things weren¡¯t going well for the old man.

 Chapter 9 - Change Of the Battlefield And Other Tactics

    The duel between Hildos and Sevrian wasn¡¯t as fierce as Ehrir pictured it in his mind, but still¡­ It was a real struggle between sorcerers much more powerful than everyone around them. Both mages were trying to not damage the galley too much, so they used specific, focused attacks against each other. ¡°At least this is good¡±, Ehrir thought. He couldn¡¯t even begin to imagine the level of harm the two men would do if they unleashed their powers without restraint. Probably not even a strand of ash would remain from the two ships and the people on them.


    Such thoughts crossed the Undone One¡¯s mind as he, Nalia and Varhel were rushing towards the deck. ¡°Rushing¡± wasn¡¯t exactly the right word, though, as maneuvering across the burnt parts of the deckhouse and transporting Nalia in her chair couldn¡¯t happen very quickly. And still they got there on time. And every pirate or mate in their way was being was killed with ease.


    Soon the three of them got near the epicenter of the mages¡¯ duel. The two sorcerers didn¡¯t notice the trio of disciples at first ¨C they were engulfed by sparks, colorful shields and flames that changed direction and color with incomprehensible speed and every bit of their attention was focused on the enemy. Their mighty blows nullified each other, but Hildos clearly had an advantage. He looked fresh and there wasn¡¯t even a drop of blood on him. A wide smile still hanged on his face, in fact.


    The old man, on the other hand, had a few bruises and cuts on. Those wounds were small and unimportant. But upon his right arms was a burned area of blackened flesh that looked disturbing. This wound was slowing him significantly and giving him great amounts of pain.


    ¡°The master can¡¯t fight like this!¡± shouted Varhel as he took down another pirate with a small ray of flames. ¡°We have to help him!¡±


    ¡°Ha-ha! Help? You¡¯ll just watch as I kill this old man. If you dare to intervene, then you¡¯ll definitely live shorter¡±, Hildos¡¯ voice boomed from the cloud of rays and flames that engulfed him and Sevrian. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with you later¡­ For now just stand here and be quiet, okay?¡±


    ¡±Younglings!¡± Sevrian¡¯s voice sounded next. ¡°Don¡¯t go nearer! I can take care of this myself.¡±


    The old man¡¯s words, along with Hildos¡¯, left the three of them stunned, but that didn¡¯t last long.


    ¡°How are we gonna get rid of him?¡± Nalia asked. She was still using Conquering without stopping after Remto¡¯s defeat. All across the ship pirates were falling down because of her magic, some of them unconscious and some ¨C dead. ¡°This prick over there isn¡¯t just somebody we can kill alone. And he¡¯s fast, too. If we poke in we¡¯ll probably just destroy the master¡¯s concentration.¡±


    ¡°There must be a way.¡± Varhel remarked with confidence. ¡°You two think about it while I thin out the enemies¡¯ numbers.¡±


    After these words the young man started running towards the part of the deck where the fight between pirates and sailors was still intense. Most of the important figures amongst the enemies were already slain, but more than half the seamen had fallen and the rest were still actively resisting. Varhel¡¯s appearance meant certain death for the foes.


    While defending himself against the few attackers that got near him, Ehrir deeply thought about a way to help the old man. After all, he was their only hope to win against someone as destructive as Hildos.


    The environment gave him enough chances to think thoroughly ¨C there weren¡¯t many pirates around and the storm had begun to calm down. The ship wasn¡¯t shaking uncontrollably as before. And besides, he was the most passive of Sevrian¡¯s three disciples right now, as he didn¡¯t engage in direct combat as Varhel did or stopped enemies from afar like Nalia.


    One thing was clear in his mind from the start ¨C he had to find a way to move the duel to the pirates¡¯ frigate. That way Hildos would be even more restricted when it came to massive attacks and the old man could just use all he had. But how could he made the two move?


    The answer to this question came quick. It was simple. It was so damn simple! Why hadn¡¯t they done that already?


    ¡°Nalia!¡± He yelled and took the young woman¡¯s attention. ¡°We need to cause damage to the enemies¡¯ ship! It¡¯s undefended now, so it should be easy.¡± He then quickly explained his plan in more detail to her.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Are you sure that this is going to work?¡± asked she after hearing Ehrir¡¯s idea. ¡°It may not be enough for him to go back to his vessel.¡±


    ¡°It should be. If I can guess one thing from the all the stuff I heard from this man¡­ It is that he really cares for ships, although it sounds stupid when it¡¯s put in this way. Trust me on this¡­ It will work!¡± The Undone One¡¯s words sounded confident, but inside he was unsure. Still, this strategy of his was the best possible way to resolve the situation for now.


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll do it.¡± Nalia nodded. ¡°I can¡¯t think of a better plan myself. My own idea isn¡¯t far from yours when it comes to the basic concept. So I agree. But you should attract my brother¡¯s attention first.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it¡±, said Ehrir as he stormed off to Varhel¡¯s location near the galley¡¯s bow.


    The first stage of his plan was to use Nalia¡¯s brother and get him to heavily damage the enemies¡¯ vessel. It was pretty straightforward and getting close to the young man was the most difficult task in it. It took a lot of effort to go through the battle-stained deck while pirate after pirate was coming for him. Soon he was covered in few fresh bloody scratches and other insignificant wounds, but finally reached Varhel¡¯s position.


    The disciple of Sevrian was killing wave after wave of enemies, leaving behind charred corpses and streams of blood. However, he instantly noticed Ehrir once the Undone One yelled his name.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening? Have you thought up of anything yet?¡± He asked after dispatching several pirates.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ You¡¯ll have to do the most important part.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m listening. Just tell me what needs to be done.¡±


    Ehrir took a deep breath and started telling his idea to the young man. Varhel was continuing to fight as he listened. At the end he just said that he¡¯ll do as asked.


    Soon his arms were already replaced by the familiar pair of jet black wings and the young man flew off. He did a graceful rotation around the galley before storming the frigate with his magic.


    Turning the enemy ship into a pile of sinking wood and ash wasn¡¯t hard now. Soon the mast were in flames and the deck was ravaged by rays of energy and small lightnings. If Varhel was going to continue doing this with the same intensity and might the ship was definitely going to sink.


    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing, boy? It¡¯s rude to destroy my beloved ¡°Purple Crown¡± just like that. Wasn¡¯t the death of Remto enough for you three? He was a capable man, you know¡­ It is not nice to lose him.¡± Hildos¡¯ voice was angry and had an unpleasant tone to it, but he didn¡¯t show a sign of abandoning his current duel.


    Varhel didn¡¯t answer, just continued ravaging. It took him barely few seconds to engulf more than quarter of the frigate¡¯s deck with fire.


    ¡°What a damned tiresome bunch of little buggers you are¡­ Well, I guess I have no choice but to deal with you right now if I don¡¯t have to swim all the way to my base. Sorry, old man, but you must excuse me for a moment.¡± The anger is Hildos¡¯ tone was well controlled, but the bright purple flames that started surging from his flesh weren¡¯t. They went straight for Sevrian. Although they bounced off from the old man¡¯s shield, they created a ring of fire around him. Hildos smiled at this sight. Then he turned around and jumped straight towards his own ship. He went at a height of about fifteen feet before landing heavily. Such physical capabilities were more than inhuman.


    By the time Hildos landed back on the frigate, Ehrir had gotten to the old man. Sevrian was leaving the circle of fire, protected by a strange spherical shield covering his entire body. When he saw Ehrir relief was written all over his face.


    ¡°So you¡¯ve managed to survive, young man. Good for you. But I have to get to Hildos or otherwise he¡¯ll definitely kill Varhel. Why the hell had that rookie taken away his attention at the first place?¡± said the old man as he lifted the defense and water started gushing out from his palms, extinguishing the flames nearby.


    Ehrir hurried and started explaining the meaning behind Varhel¡¯s doings to the old man. Sevrian just listened without saying a word. After the Undone One finished up talking he only shook his head and turned around.


    ¡°You three will get yourselves killed doing such things without thinking it through¡±, he said with a serious tone. But there was a slight smile on his face. ¡°But this idea might work out, although I¡¯m not too sure in my own power to be judging it right now. Well, time will tell. Leave the rest of this to me.¡±


    After these words the old man hopped onto the handrails and jumped. Although he couldn¡¯t rise to even half the height of Hildos¡¯ leap, it was still breath-taking. Ehrir hoped that he had enough power in him to actually have an advantage against the pirate captain.


    That didn¡¯t mean that he and the other two disciples wouldn¡¯t help him win, though.


    The next stage of Ehrir¡¯s plan wasn¡¯t as simple as the first one. It involved different attacks from all three disciples to help weaken and distract Hildos and ensure Sevrian¡¯s triumph. Ehrir crouched and started creating steel spears from the planks beneath his feet. He had to have at least two dozens of these, although he wouldn¡¯t be the one throwing them.


    According to his original idea, Varhel had to make Hildos get used to the same kind of repetitive attacks before damaging him. Well, it sounded easy in his mind. But when it came to the practical part¡­


    Maybe it wouldn¡¯t be that easy after all.

 Chapter 10 - Fine Chance to Kill a Pirate

    Ehrir created nearly two dozens of steel spears with relative ease. Meanwhile Nalia, according to his plan, stopped using her Conquering. The pirates didn¡¯t fall down anymore, but that didn¡¯t give the enemies a significant advantage ¨C after the level of destruction Varhel brought to their ranks the chance to surely win this battle had slipped away. Of course, Nalia could continue overpowering their souls, but she had to concentrate greatly to carry out her part of the plan.


    Varhel was still flying above the frigate, but he was wasn¡¯t using magic anymore. Instead he just watched the fight waged below him. And it was one hell of a fight, indeed. Without the chance to destroy his own ship accidentally, the old man was going at it with everything he got. Flames and lightning bolts were surging in waves from his body and turning everything in his vicinity into ashes. That angered Hildos greatly and he answered that seemingly mindless destruction with highly focused attacks. They could easily devastate the older sorcerer and he had to use a great amount of his power to create shields again and again. They were getting destroyed easily and Hildos didn¡¯t even have to create defenses himself ¨C his speed was superb and he was easily evading them with well-timed jumps in all directions.


    Varhel watched this nightmarish spectacle in silence for some time before he saw that Ehrir was creating weapons. He flew back to the galley. His wings transformed into hands again as he landed.


    ¡°When we are gonna do it?¡± he asked straightforwardly.


    ¡°Well, I am ready. A few spears more or less don¡¯t matter. But you should ask Nalia.¡± Ehrir started lining up the weapons on the handrail. It was an easy task ¨C the storm had calmed entirely and no pirates were daring to come at his direction with Varhel besides him. While he was engaged in the task he heard the brother and sister talking somewhere behind him.


    ¡°Can you do it, sis? This seems like a pretty hard thing to do¡­ at least to me.¡± When he was speaking to Nalia, Varhel¡¯s voice was not the same as usual. It was sweeter and far softer, filled with a deep feeling of caring and love.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure, Varh. You¡¯re not good with Conquering, so you don¡¯t understand. It¡¯s pretty easy, I just¡­ I need a little more time, okay? My concentration has to reach its highest for this whole thing to work out.¡±


    ¡°Take your time, sis. Nobody¡¯s rushing you. A couple of minutes aren¡¯t important.¡±


    Ehrir gritted his teeth when he heard those words. Every minute was important even when the battle took this unexpected turn and Varhel knew that. Sevrian had a better chance now, but that didn¡¯t mean he was going to win without his disciples¡¯ help. Hell, he said it himself, after all. Only time could tell the duel¡¯s winner.


    Ehrir¡¯s emotions quickly shifted from anger to just an undefined lack of calmness. Still, he understood Nalia. He had told her to take the needed time in the first place back when he was still explaining the plan. He could only passively watch from the side for now. Well, not so passively. He created a bunch more spears during the time it took Nalia to fully focus.


    When the three of them were finally ready to engage in the next phase of the plan, the pirates¡¯ frigate was already badly damaged by Sevrian. The ship was engulfed in smoke and flames were covering big parts of its deck, while others had collapsed. The question wasn¡¯t when this entire thing was going to sink¡­ It was when.


    The fact that the frigate was being destroyed just made Ehrir even more impatient, but luckily Nalia got ready. The trio had to execute the next part of the plan perfectly if they wanted to succeed. And exactly this was the hard part.


    ¡°Okay¡­ Varhel, grab some of these spears and fly to the frigate. You can throw them at random, but, as I said, you have to be quick and aim for the pirates¡¯ torso or head. Nalia, when it comes to you¡­¡± Ehrir briefly explained the role of everyone (although he hadn¡¯t much work for himself after the spears¡¯ creation). They only nodded as answer.


    ¡°We already know this stuff!¡± exclaimed the young woman. ¡°Shall we begin now? Keeping all of this soul energy so tightly can get pretty tiring pretty fast.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ Well, let¡¯s go.¡± As soon as Ehrir uttered these words, Varhel quickly transformed, but this time he didn¡¯t just get wings. His lower legs turned into bird¡¯s ones. It was a grotesque sight, but he could certainly stand on them. And they looked deadly, with massive shiny black claws and thick bones just underneath the gleamy, rough looking skin. Those things were fully capable of ripping flesh and taking lives. But they weren¡¯t going to be used for that now.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Varhel grabbed a couple of spears with his claws. It was a strange to say the least, but it would work according to the young man¡¯s own words ¨C he said (numerous times, actually) that he was perfectly capable of throwing weapons with this transformed legs, and with good accuracy. Ehrir could only trust him.


    Nalia¡¯s brother flew off to the enemy frigate, but he was slower this time. It took him a few rotations around the burning masts of the ship to speed up decently. After this he sank into the abyss of fire and smoke that obscured most of the things going on upon the deck.


    Ehrir swallowed. His vision was deeply obscured. His sight was useless. And the countless noises coming from the duel made the chance to hear something important non-existent. He had to believe in Varhel. Somewhere behind him Nalia was quietly praying to some god whose name was unknown and strange-sounding to the Undone One. Could he pray too? But¡­ to who? Hasthan, the Lord of the Unliving? The All-Seeing One? The Crescent Master? All of these names sounded ridiculous and meaningless to him. Varhel could take care of the problem without his prayers.


    Still, relief was written all over his face when the winged silhouette of the young man ascended from the smoke and came sweeping by with incredible speed. He grabbed another two spears and was gone before Ehrir knew it.


    ¡°It¡¯s going good so far!¡± His shout sounded as he disappeared again.


    This process of him going back and forth between the ships repeated several times until the total number of spears was drastically lowered. When only four of the weapons remained Varhel slowed down a bit and started talking frantically.


    ¡°He¡¯s used to my patterns by now. He won¡¯t expect what¡¯s coming next. Sis, you hear me?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m more than ready.¡± Nalia had put on a serious, cold expression, the same one as when Ehrir first met her. It looked as if she was some distant alabaster statue.


    ¡°Then let¡¯s proceed¡±, said Ehrir as he gave another pair of spears to Varhel.


    The young man just looked straight at Ehrir without saying a word for a second.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it! I already said it before ¨C have faith in me!¡± A faint smile appeared on his face, but his tone was serious and hard as stone. He quickly flew off and it took him more than a dozen rotations around the whole frigate to get to the desired speed. It was indeed mind-blowingly fast. After that he descended into the smoke qne started shouting with voice imbued with magic.


    ¡°Master! Would you create a strong gust of wind after a few moments?¡± He yelled at the top of his lungs and the empowered voice pierced Ehrir¡¯s ears.


    The answer didn¡¯t come in an instant. And, instead of a voice, a powerful winds just surged out from somewhere within the cloud of dust and ashes. They cleared it out rather quickly and the devastated deck of the frigate was laid before Ehrir¡¯s eyes.


    Most of the ship¡¯s upper half was simply no more. It was missing and the rooms of the lower deck could be easily seen even from a distance. Both of the sorcerers looked far worse than before ¨C with torn clothes and numerous wounds on their bodies that ranged from burns and cuts to bruises and scratches. There was no clear winner between the two and no one looked like they had an advantage currently. However, the smile was finally erased from Hildos¡¯ face. He was breathing heavily and half of his face was covered in blood.


    Sevrian was standing at about ten feet from him. Just perfectly far away for Varhel to do as intended.


    The young man flew straight toward the pirates¡¯ captain, but he didn¡¯t throw the spears right away.


    ¡°You think this will work, boy? How many times do I have to evade this damned things for you to¡­¡± Hildos was already leaping to the right when he suddenly went quiet. A second later he was down on the deck ¨C or whatever remained of it ¨C with both of his palms struck by the spears. The massive steel weapons had sunken deep into his flesh and pierced the wood below it. An animalistic roar of pain came out of the pirate¡¯s mouth. His face was a bit paler and a single drop of blood fell from his nose.


    ¡°Well, it was enough in the end, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Ehrir said after turning to Nalia. She had a tired but relieved expression on her face. At the same moment when Hildos tried to evade Varhel¡¯s weapons she had bombarded him with a very concentrated ray of Conquering. It was enough to slow his reflexes enough for the unusual attacks of her brother ¨C who had aimed for the vital parts of the body until that very moment ¨C to strike down the captain.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to drink half the alcohol on this ship after we¡¯re done with this¡­¡± muttered Nalia.


    ¡°Just don¡¯t forget that you owe a bottle of¡­ eh, whatever it was¡±, said Ehrir after smiling. The battle ¨C no longer than half an hour, probably ¨C had finally ended. He had to rest a little bit. He felt like shit in the moment.


    On the frigate Sevrian was walking towards Hildos with a delighted expression on his face. Different kinds of attacks were still emitted from the captain¡¯s body, but they were weak ¨C the physical pain and the Conquering of Nalia were both responsible for this. The old man¡¯s pale shields were blocking them off completely and with ease.


    ¡°It was a nice fight, captain Hildos, I have to say that¡­ But it ends here. Do you have anything to say?¡± Sevrian had put on an emotionless expression.


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± the captain smiled widely. ¡°Fuck you!¡±


    Those were the last words that Hildos ever uttered in this life and they resonated loudly and clearly through the entirety of the two ships. After just a second a powerful blow of lightning left the famed captain of the Pirates of the Purple Flame in a charred state. The pirates on the galley¡¯s deck looked at this event with shock in their eyes before they began dropping their weapons and surrendering.


    The battle was over.

 Chapter 11 - Towards the Archipelago of Claws

    To clean the mess after a fight was almost as tiring as partaking in the fight itself. Ehrir quickly realized that after he spent a significant amount of time fixing parts of the handrails, the oars and even helping around the deck''s planks.


    The galley was left in bad shape after the pirates¡¯ boarding, but it was almost unscathed compared to the frigate. The enemies¡¯ ship slowly sank over the course of almost six hours and just a small number of treasures could be recovered from it thanks to Varhel. They included a few chests with variable amounts of money in them. There were all kinds of coins in them - from strange square coins from the faraway east to the generic silver and copper coins that Ehrir knew well. There were also expensive looking clothes, few books on different topics and a couple of maps depicting different regions of the Cargaen Sea.


    The pirates ¨C or what remained of them, anyway ¨C were sentenced to death by Sevrian and he carried the punishment out himself right after the battle ended. There were those who resisted, but Varhel quickly dealt with them. The rest just waited in silence or screamed and prayed to the skies. The way they were killed was quick and painless ¨C a strand of lightning straight through the head. It was more than enough to send any normal human to the afterlife. After that all of the pirates¡¯ corpses were gathered and thrown into the waves. It was dirty work and the sailors did it in silence. They didn¡¯t give the corpses any kind of respect. It was understandable ¨C Ehrir too couldn¡¯t hold respect for killers and bandits. He still felt disgust at the sight of the bloodied corpses with their pale flesh and unnatural appearances, in fact.


    The deceased seafarers, on the other side, were laid in the sea with honor that only their comrades could give them. Tears were shed and countless words about the dead were said. Many memories were brought up from the mists of time. At the end a long song was sung. It was something of a seafarer¡¯s ballad about the dangers of the seas and the friendship between sailors. Ehrir, Nalia and Varhel listened to it from the side and in silence.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard a song like this once back in my homeland¡­ But it wasn¡¯t about sailors. And this one right here is sadder.¡± A melancholic smile was laying upon the young woman¡¯s lips.


    The words coming from more than a hundred throats rose up to the skies and danced around with the wind.


    ¡°And if high waves destroy our ship


    And we never return from our trip


    Don¡¯t shed bitter tears for us


    Cause we¡¯ve gone to a better place


    Where forever we¡¯ll drink and dance¡­¡±


    Ehrir smiled faintly when he heard the rough rhymes, probably created by people who couldn¡¯t even write them down on parchment. There was a certain beauty in them, yet none of the seriousness that the funeral hymns he knew contained. If he could choose a song to be sung when he passed away, it probably would be something like this. Sad, yet warm and cheery.


    When the funerals were finished and the singing ended, the sailors started working. The repairs continued for more than two days and Ehrir took a serious part in them, as his Manipulation could easily return smaller items to their original form. He could only gaze in helplessness when it came to the mast or the deckhouse, though ¨C they were far beyond his capabilities. The old man did what he could with both ¨C his injuries and the heavy fatigue from the battle prevented him from reconstructing the objects completely. It took him quite some time to get lively again ¨C first he slept for twenty hours straight and even after that spent most of the next couple of days in bed, except for when he helped with the repairs. His own room¡¯s roof ¨C the surface of the deckhouse ¨C was destroyed, though, so he moved to the lower deck.


    When it came to Varhel and Nalia they didn¡¯t fare much better than Sevrian. They also slept and laid down for significant amount of time. Out of the three disciples Ehrir used the least magic and it clearly showed. He looked better than the brother and sister, except for his injuries, and didn¡¯t feel very tired after just one night worth of good sleep.


    Well, Nalia was able to outdrink him even in her sleepy and tired state. She did give him the bottle of alcohol ¨C it turned out to be good and strong mead ¨C and they chugged it down together. Ehrir didn¡¯t want to continue drinking afterwards and could only watch in awe as the slender girl drank two bottles of wine and half a tankard of ale. Well, she quickly fell in a slumber afterwards, but it was still a fascinating feat.


    The days quickly went by and soon the repairs were finished and the new captain (the old one had died while battling the pirates) gave his approval to start travelling again. Sevrian rejoiced when he heard the news, and so did Ehrir. Both of them longed to continue their way southwards.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.The oars finally moved again when the dawn broke on the fifth day after the battle. Ehrir was there, along with his fellow disciples and the old man. There was an aura of excitement in the air.


    ¡°You have never seen the Archipelago of Claws, right, young man?¡± spoke Sevrian. He was clearly addressing the Undone One.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t. Is it different there? From the place I came from, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it sure is different, although I couldn¡¯t see much of the kingdom you lived in¡±, said Varhel. During the last couple of days he interacted with Ehrir a lot and opened up to him a bit. In any case, his voice didn¡¯t have the coldness from before now. ¡°My sis should tell you about it. I¡¯m not good with words as she is.¡±


    Nalia moved uncomfortably in her chair. Ehrir still couldn¡¯t imagine how Varhel ¨C even with wings as arms and claws as legs ¨C could hold this whole thing (along with his sister in it!) and move through the open sea. Exactly this was their way of scouting ahead of the ship. Varhel could do it alone, but Nalia¡¯s understanding of Conquering was far better and thus she could sense someone¡¯s potential and power in magic easily. And still¡­ It would be a strange damned sight to behold!


    ¡°Well, it really is something, especially the main port in the archipelago¡±, finally uttered the young woman. ¡°I mean¡­ the buildings are the same. And the culture, pretty much. The people aren¡¯t different from those up north, both in appearance, character and language. But¡­ they are free, Ehrir! And with all of this wonderful nature around their cities¡­ I can¡¯t express it. Ya¡¯ just have to see it yourself!¡±


    Ehrir threw a look at Varhel.


    ¡°I told you¡­ She¡¯s better with words than me.¡± The young man was smiling.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± The Undone One grinned too.


    The ship was already moving to the south. The sea was calm and the skies were clear. The winds were colder than Ehrir remembered them, but that was only normal ¨C winter was approaching, after all. Everything was looking good. Ehrir¡¯s smile widened. The storm was behind his back and the future looked bright yet again.


    ***


    The following days were spent traversing the Cargaen Sea. Ehrir used most of his time to study. It was hard to learn Emhaelic, although he grasped the most basic rules about writing and reading. He was still far from able to do any of the two by himself, so the old man read to him most of the time. He mainly used the thick tome from their first lesson. The Undone One quickly learned its name. It was called Kanaem Velsabris-a, which meant ¡°Sorcerer¡¯s Book¡± in Emhaelic. It contained the most basic of information about magic between its pages. And yet it was more than 700 pages long¡­ Sorcery was a complicated thing, no doubt about it.


    While learning to read and write, Ehrir was also slowly introduced to other disciplines of magic besides Manipulation. It took him considerable amount of time to grasp their concepts and use his soul¡¯s energy to do anything besides Changing. Sevrian told him what to do again and again.


    ¡°You just have to envision the thing you want to do in your mind and let the energy flow through you. Perhaps bringing the thing to existence will be harder than what you¡¯re accustomed to, but magic isn¡¯t an easy thing. If you find difficulty, then you should just push on and use more energy.¡±


    But no matter how many times the Undone One tried to follow his master¡¯s advice, he found no way to bring his thoughts into reality. Until one particular day, that is.


    In that day his frustration rose to a new level and in his anger he finally used his energy without any precautions. It filled him more than ever before and its warmth turned into flame and pain. And then the pain calmed and he found a small strand of fire with the size of his thumb dancing above his palm. The Changelings¡¯ Brand looked strange in its trembling light.


    Faint happiness filled the Undone One¡¯s mind.


    ¡°Damn it!¡± There was excitement in Sevrian¡¯s cuss. ¡°Well done, young man! This success is just the first one in a long series of triumphs, believe me. You certainly have the potential to become a fine wizard!¡±


    Ehrir smiled. But this was just the beginning, after all.


    He spent the next several days training with magic and gradually expanded his capabilities within the disciplines of Destruction and Creation. It was hard when compared to his natural-feeling Manipulation, but it was still something. Also ¨C everyone was cheering for him, both Nalia and Varhel and the old man. The normal sailors just looked at him with respect. He even received a few thanks from them for battling bravely against the pirates and taking so many of them down. ¡°Bravely¡­ Heh! If they could only know how I feared...¡± he thought upon hearing those words.


    The days were just starting to get monotonous when a small dot of land appeared upon the horizon¡¯s edge. It was the middle of the second week since the fight with the pirates.


    ¡°Land!¡± the scream of the sailor on duty sounded from the crow¡¯s nest and instantly stirred up excitement within the crew. ¡°I can see the first island in the Archipelago of Claws!¡±


    Cheerful screams came from the seafarer¡¯s throats. Ehrir was standing on the deck when it happened at he quickly ran to the deckhouse in hopes to see the island. But it was to no avail.


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so damned impatient, young man. Soon you¡¯ll see too. Or you can climb up the mast if you want it so badly right now.


    ¡°I can wait a little while¡±, muttered Ehrir while smirking.


    ¡°You¡¯ll meet my master once we get there¡­ I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll like him.¡±


    ¡°I hope so¡±, said Ehrir unsurely. Well, meeting some decaying old man sounded unpleasant, but it had to be done.

 Chapter 12 - Port Nalevas

    The Archipelago of Claws was simply a beautiful place. Its vivid nature was covering every inch of land untouched by humans. The trees, bushes and even animals were different from those that Ehrir was accustomed to. Even the grasses were taller and had brighter colors.


    The climate was slowly getting hotter as they went southwards in the last weeks and the vague hints of winter couldn¡¯t fend off the unnatural hotness that reigned over the sea. Now it felt like they had reached the warmest place in the world. Ehrir wasn¡¯t used to this kind of heat outside of the middle of the summer.


    The target of the galley, as he quickly learned, was the biggest port in the archipelago. Its name was Nalevas, but it was also known as Ale Bay. The second name was held in a particularly high regard by Nalia.


    ¡°They do serve some damned good drinks there¡±, she explained as the galley was going around the first island of the archipelago. The young woman had come out of the lower deck just a few minutes ago. ¡°The ale is the best, of course, but they also have some pretty good grog there.¡±


    ¡°Are you always thinking about alcohol?¡± murmured Ehrir with a grin on his face.


    ¡°Well, not always. Just most of the time. But I¡¯m cripple, ya¡¯ know. I have to drown the sorrow about my missing limbs¡­ just not in water, that is.¡± Nalia laughed wholeheartedly.


    Ehrir shook his head and placed his straw hat on his head. How could this girl be so cheerful in such a state? He couldn¡¯t find an answer. But he could laugh with her.


    The hours flew by as the ship advanced through the archipelago and the temperatures grew. Still, Ehrir didn¡¯t leave his place on the deckhouse. He watched every small island or rock that the galley swept by with focus and utmost attention. The new sights looked both slightly familiar, but unique. They took his interest, in any case.


    The Undone One saw a lot of ships passing by and a couple of small ports, too. He asked the sailors about them and quickly learned that all the cities on these islands were independent from one another and didn¡¯t have one ruler. They also weren¡¯t part of any larger structure, be it kingdom, dukedom or anything else. That too felt new and strange to Ehrir.


    But once the galley reached port Nalevas itself¡­ Well, that was definitely a sight to behold.


    The city¡¯s harbor was located at the so-called Ale Bay and it was stacked with ships of all sizes. Countless sounds pierced the air and were brought to the ear by the salty winds. The settlement itself covered the whole hill above the harbor and although Ehrir had seen a lot of cities that were far bigger, this one felt¡­ different. Maybe it was the buildings, painted in all kinds of vibrant colors. Maybe it was the fact that there were no walls or fortifications in the city and the biggest construction in the whole port wasn¡¯t a dark-looking castle but a small mansion surrounded by gardens and located atop the cliff. Maybe it was that he didn¡¯t have the despair and the feeling of hatred towards everyone that he harbored inside himself for the past eight years and could finally look at things with optimism. But the reason didn¡¯t really matter. He took a liking in the place.


    The ship navigated through the dozens of vessels filling the bay¡¯s waters. The other seafarers gazed with respect and even fear at the strange sign on the galley¡¯s sails. Ehrir knew the reason why. The symbol inspired such awe because it belonged to Ostrias, the old man¡¯s master who was currently holding the highest authority in the archipelago. Ehrir learned that just recently.


    The galley docked on one amongst dozens of piers in the harbor. By the time the anchor was lowered Sevrian and the other disciples had already come out. Soon the sailors started to unload the ship¡¯s goods which turned out to be far more than Ehrir had expected. The process took quite some time and when it was finally finished boredom was written all over the faces of the old man and his subordinates.


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother asking me to pay up right now, captain¡±, said Sevrian as he was approached by the crew¡¯s boss. ¡°My master will send one of his men to give you what you deserve until the end of the day. Be sure that you¡¯ll receive compensation for the damage the ship received¡­ and for the death of your comrades too, although the loss of lives can¡¯t be repaid with money.¡±


    The man ¨C he was older than Ehrir, but still looked too uncomfortable and inexperienced in the clothes of a captain ¨C just nodded and didn¡¯t say anything.


    Afterwards the four sorcerers left the ship. To feel the land under your feet was a pleasant feeling for Ehrir. He took off his sea jerkin and added it to his baggage. It was too hot for the damned thing to be worn right now. He ran his hand through his beard. He had trimmed it back in Borhael, but it wasn¡¯t enough, obviously. It was time for it to be completely shaven, just not now. But he had to get it done as soon as possible. The lower half of his face felt like it was in a furnace.


    Luckily, the trip of Nalevas¡¯ streets was quick. The luggage of the old man and his disciples was transported towards the port¡¯s manor by the sailors, but the mages themselves stopped by a good looking pub.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening? I thought we were going to see master Ostrias first?¡± asked Ehrir as he saw the old man entering the tavern.Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°We¡¯ll go see him eventually. Believe me, we aren¡¯t his biggest concern right now. And given all the hardships we went through on this voyage, I believe we all deserve a little feast. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll pay for it¡±, said Sevrian while smirking.


    Ehrir shrugged his shoulders. He couldn¡¯t resist such an offer.


    ***


    The pub¡¯s main hall was well-lit and with high roof. It looked stylish with its giant fireplace (who would need indoor fire when it was this hot in the middle of the autumn?), rich and vibrant tapestries and burning braziers from which rose different sweet aromas. The cooking matched the tavern¡¯s appearance in quality ¨C Ehrir couldn¡¯t guess what meat he ate, but it sure was good. He also tasted the drink that Nalia called ¡°grog¡±. It was good, although a little bit too strong for his tastes. The young girl chugged down at least four goblets of it, though.


    They left after almost one and a half hours. It was already the late afternoon and the shadows on the city streets had elongated. The heat was now bearable and the walking to the manor, although long, was endurable. Nalevas¡¯ streets were still packed with loads of people ¨C sailors, travelers and craftsmen of all sorts. Most of them made way for Sevrian ¨C his rich-looking clothing would be enough, but he was also wearing a cloak with his master¡¯s symbol on it. This definitely helped to clear the way. Most of those who saw it whispered similar things in low voices.


    ¡°The sign¡­ The Ashen Gaze! Step back, step back¡­ He¡¯s important, he sure is¡­¡±


    Ehrir was surprised by the people¡¯s reactions. He knew how influential this Ostrias was and yet he didn¡¯t expect such reverence towards one of his subordinates. The people on the port¡¯s streets were practically treating Sevrian like a city lord because of the sign on his cloak¡­


    They got to the manor rather quickly. The gatekeepers on the front and seemingly only entrance in the high, vividly blue stone walls ¨C let them in without hesitation after exchanging just a few words with Sevrian.


    The mansion had two floors and looked warm and welcoming with its big windows and soft edges. The gardens around it were extravagant and dense with plants forming various shapes and alleys through the carefully trimmed grass. One main paved path led straight to the building¡¯s entrance where another pair of guards ¨C well-built middle-aged men in leather armor ¨C were standing with spears in their hands. Sevrian approached them confidently. The two men clearly recognized him and bowed deeply.


    ¡°Welcome back, milord¡±, said one of them. ¡°I¡¯m glad that you returned so quickly. Any success with your mission?¡±


    The old man shook his head regretfully.


    ¡°No, sadly. Did any of the other sorcerers had better luck?¡± There was some dissatisfaction in Sevrian¡¯s voice.


    ¡°No, milord. Master Ostrias is worried that what you¡¯re searching for isn¡¯t in these lands anymore. Over the course of the last week a lot of your fellow wizards that he sent out returned without even a hint of success. Some of them suggest that the man wanted by the master has already moved to the south shores.¡±


    Sevrian¡¯s expression darkened a little bit after those words, for some reason.


    ¡°I see then¡­ Still, although I don¡¯t have any important news, I want to talk with my master privately. Is he busy?¡±


    ¡°Not as far as we know, milord. You can enter the manor. Your stuff arrived awhile back and you should¡¯ve already received a room. There should be some servants in the entrance hall to guide you to the master¡¯s chambers.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes¡­¡± the old man waved his hand impatiently and gave the men a sign to open the door. He entered it quickly and his disciples followed suit.


    The entrance hall was spacious and lit by a couple of big chandeliers. Its marble floors and stairwells, combined with the warm illumination, created a feeling of luxury. A couple of young girls in servant dresses were waiting near the door. They welcomed the old man with deep bows and asked him about his name.


    ¡°I¡¯m Sevrian. Sevrian of the Maelics. These are my disciples.¡± He waved his hand towards Nalia, Varhel and Ehrir.


    It took a few moments for the girls to recognize the old man¡¯s name, but they bowed again upon finally doing so.


    ¡°Do you want us to lead the way to your chambers, milord? When would like your dinner served? We could¡­¡±


    ¡°Young women¡­ Can you take me to see my master first? I want to talk with him¡±, Sevrian interrupted the two girls with soft, but serious tone.


    ¡°Oh¡­ of course, of course. Will your disciples come with you? If not, one of us could show them their rooms.¡±


    ¡°Only this one shall follow me¡± Sevrian pointed at Ehrir.


    The servant girls nodded and one of them went off to somewhere with Varhel and Nalia. The other one started going up one of the stairwells. Ehrir stayed close behind the old man.


    ¡°Why am I the only one to come see the master?¡± he asked.


    ¡°The other two had seen Ostrias already. They don¡¯t need to meet with him again. And besides ¨C I think you¡¯d be far more interesting to him than Varhel or Nalia are. Because of your¡­ nature, perhaps.¡±


    Ehrir understood what the old man was hinting at and looked down at his arms clad in white gloves. When he thought about it the pain from the Brand grew bigger. Why would Ostrias be interested in an Undone One? Well, this question could be answered soon.


    The room of the old man¡¯s master was located on the second floor and from the side of the manor that faced the sea. Its door was of an enormous size and upon its wood was carved a picture of a sailing ship. The servant girl knocked at it more than dozen times before a voice rang from the inside.


    ¡°Wait a damn bit! I¡¯ll let you in soon!¡±


    The voice was deep and manly and obviously didn¡¯t belong to an old man. What was going on here? Ehrir didn¡¯t have the time to even think about it, because a female ¨C and a stunning one at that ¨C left through the door and headed to the end of the hall. She was drippling in sweat and her hair was messy. And she was undoubtedly beautiful.


    ¡°You can come in now!¡± the same voice as before sounded from the room.


    Sevrian slowly went through the door and Ehrir followed. The chamber was indeed big and rich-looking. There was only one man in it. He was sitting on a big couch.


    Sevrian approached him and bowed his head.


    ¡°Hello, master. I hope you would be pleased to meet my new disciple. He has very good potential. His name is Ehrir. Ehrir, this is my master, Ostrias Haelum¡­¡±


    Upon hearing the name, the Undone One¡¯s jaw dropped.

 Chapter 13 - The Ashen Gaze

    The man before Ehrir looked at least five years younger than him. His golden-blond hair, combined with his warm grey eyes, angular chin and high cheekbones made him look more charming and attractive than most men. He was wearing a set or rich clothes, but there was no shirt beneath his unbuttoned blue coat and Ehrir could clearly see the well-defined muscles on his chest and abdomen.


    Was this the famed Ostrias ¡°the Ashen Gaze¡±? And if so, what was all the blabbering of Sevrian about this man being much older than him? As far as Ehrir knew the only sorcerers that could remain young and healthy beyond their natural limit were the Changelings¡­ But this man wasn¡¯t one of them, was he?


    He had no time to think more about that right now. He quickly stepped forward and bowed his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you, master.¡±


    ¡°I know, right? I can be pretty charming¡­¡± Ostrias grinned. ¡°Don¡¯t mind that, I can sound like a self-loving asshole from time to time. Nice to meet you too, Ehrir. You can sit wherever you want. You too, Sevrian.¡±


    The old man and his disciple quickly found their way to two of the elegant chairs in the room.


    ¡°Now that we¡¯re all nice and comfortable, I¡¯d like to hear what you want to speak with me about. I can guess that you didn¡¯t sweep by just out of respect towards me, Sevrian. I would also be pissed if you did. I was having a lot of fun with that woman you just saw leaving¡­ A few greetings and kind words can¡¯t be compared to such pleasure.¡±


    Ehrir would smile if these words came out of somebody else¡¯s mouth, but he didn¡¯t dare to do it in front of the powerful Ashen Gaze.


    ¡°Master, I indeed have something I want to discuss with you.¡± Sevrian¡¯s tone was respectful and humble. ¡°That thing is also really the reason I took my new disciple with me. Ehrir, would you please take off your gloves?¡±


    Cold chill went up the Undone One¡¯s spine, but he obeyed the old man¡¯s command. Soon his hands were bare and the Brand could be clearly seen. It certainly got Ostrias¡¯ attention and his eyes lit up.


    ¡°Quite interesting, Sevrian, quite interesting¡­ If I may ask, Ehrir, from how long are you an Undone One?¡±


    ¡°Eight years or so¡­¡± answered Ehrir. He was still counting the days, but he didn¡¯t want to tell the exact amount. He knew it, though. Eight years, one month and four days.


    Ostrias¡¯ expression darkened slightly.


    ¡°I see...¡± he said after a while. ¡°Sevrian, what do you think? Answer me honestly. Do you think that the Changeling is still in these parts of the Outer Fantasy?¡±


    Ehrir¡¯s heart skipped a beat when he heard the term Changeling. And just a moment afterwards a familiar hatred rose in him, but he managed to stay quiet.


    The old man, on the other hand, looked nervous when he began speaking.


    ¡°I believe he left long ago, master. If there aren¡¯t any other Undone appearing besides Ehrir, and more recently awakened ones at that, that is only further proof of it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right. There aren¡¯t none besides our friend over here. And still¡­ I believe we should stay here a little longer. You know what I¡¯m talking about? And don¡¯t get me wrong. I don¡¯t mean the women or the alcohol, although both are good reasons to spend my remaining years here.¡±


    Sevrian swallowed.


    ¡°Do you mean¡­ You want to perform the Clairvoyance?¡± There was both fear and amazement in the old man¡¯s tone.


    ¡°I have the full intent to.¡± Ostrias smiled brightly. ¡°I¡¯ll need the assistance of your new disciple, of course. Well, Ehrir, do you want to participate in a little ritual? It¡¯s nothing too amazing, honestly, but at least you¡¯ll get a glimpse of what really powerful magic is. It isn¡¯t flashy or colorful ¨C it¡¯s labeled as Control, actually. But believe me¡­ The experience will be interesting!¡±


    Ehrir felt confusion. Control, as far as he knew, was the most complex and strange discipline in magic. What could this master sorcerer want to do with him? And ¨C most importantly ¨C with Control involved in it?


    ¡°I¡¯d participate with joy, master¡­ But I¡¯d like to know what exactly this Clairvoyance is, if it¡¯s not too much to ask.¡±


    Ostrias smiled.


    ¡°Be at ease. I¡¯ll answer you. The Clairvoyance is a process in which a magician is able to look into someone¡¯s mind and bring his memories and past experiences to the surface. Both the sorcerer and the one whose brain he¡¯s gazing into can see these past memories, even if they are not clearly remembered ¨C or not remembered at all ¨C by the person in question. It is often used for extraction of information.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°But what would you want to see in me with this ritual?¡± the confusion on Ehrir¡¯s face grew. ¡°During my whole life as an Undone One I haven¡¯t seen or done anything remarkable. As for the memories from my previous life¡­ they are stolen by the Changelings, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    ¡°Indeed they are, Ehrir. But¡­ Are you familiar with the process of creating an Undone One?¡± the smile wasn¡¯t leaving Ostrias¡¯ face.


    ¡°No, master.¡±


    ¡°I thought so. Let me explain it simply: people such as you remain only after a powerful Changeling extends his life. The weaker ones use far fewer people for their rituals and they easily take their life and memories. But the strong ones need much more people. And to efficiently use all of them they let huge amounts of their soul energy flow through them when performing the necessary rituals. However, most don¡¯t have such a high degree of mastery over the energy so it is unrestricted. And for the ceremony a link between the Changeling¡¯s mind and these of his targets is necessary. The result is simple ¨C when the ritual is finished an Undone One emerges as an aftereffect. He is born because the Changeling can¡¯t be precise when it comes to the act¡¯s details and sometimes he or she uses very little amounts of energy on someone, which leads to him not dying. But besides the gift of life, part of the creator¡¯s memories are left engraved in the Undone One¡¯s mind thanks to the previously mentioned connection¡­ Can you guess what this means?¡±


    It took a few second for Ehrir to connect the dots. But he still realized it quickly.


    ¡°You¡¯re saying that¡­ The memories of my¡­ creator are still inside of me?¡±


    Ostrias smiled at his answer.


    ¡°You are quick to acknowledge things. I like that. Yes, I believe that there are visions in your brain left there by a sorcerer eight years ago. You definitely can¡¯t recall them, but they exist. I¡¯m sure of it. And I can bring them to the surface¡­ Do you want to take part in the Clairvoyance, Ehrir? It won¡¯t hurt you in any way. I promise.¡±


    ¡°I will attend this ritual of yours, master.¡± Instinctively said the Undone One. But then a question surged up within him. ¡°Why are my creator¡¯s memories so important?¡±


    Ostrias¡¯ expression grew a bit darker, but the grin didn¡¯t leave his face.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be straightforward. I believe that the mage who is responsible for you is a well-known Changeling that left the domains of master wizards about a dozen years ago. He is an important figure in the politics of the south and I¡¯ve come to search for him on behalf of one of my close allies. I don¡¯t have a single clue what the said ally will do upon finding him. However, I should fight and kill the Changeling if he doesn¡¯t come with me willingly. The thing is¡­ Sorcerers as powerful as this one are rare in the north parts of the world, even more so if they are Changelings. Exactly that leads me to believe that the man I¡¯m looking for is the same one that made you an Undone One.¡±


    Ehrir felt cold shiver down his spine. His hands started trembling firmly, but he managed to suppress it.


    ¡°It¡­ seems logical¡±, he finally said with quivering voice. ¡°But I don¡¯t want to meet this man. I don¡¯t even want to stain my mind with his memories. If I ever see him¡­ I¡¯ll try to kill him for sure.¡± There was anger and hatred in his voice. The disdain that grew inside of him for eight years finally showed its ugly face. But it was just a fraction of all the negative emotions Ehrir hid inside of himself. He quickly calmed. ¡°I¡¯ll help you, master.¡±


    ¡°Good. You can go rest now. Sevrian will probably report about your voyage in depth and that¡¯s something that can be called interesting rarely. The servant girl that led you here should still be waiting by the door. She¡¯ll show you the way to your chambers.¡±


    Ehrir nodded respectfully and thanked Ostrias for his kindness. Then he got up from the chair and started walking towards the door.


    The words of the Ashen Gaze stopped him in the middle of his way.


    ¡°Excuse me for the rudeness, Ehrir, but¡­ I can see it in your eyes. There is something you want to ask me. You can go on and do it right now.¡±


    The Undone One swallowed. Well, when it had come to this¡­ He really was curious about one thing, after all.


    ¡°It may seem as an inappropriate question, master, but¡­ How old are you?¡±


    Silence reigned over the room for a second. And it felt like a pretty time for Ehrir. Then Ostrias started laughing loudly. He went on for nearly a minute before calming down.


    ¡°Finally!¡± he exploded in laughter again. ¡°Somebody finally asks me this question! You know, it¡¯s quite annoying for my subordinates ¨C your master, Sevrian, too ¨C to just go around telling people that I¡¯m older and stronger than them. And then somebody comes to visit me and they look at me thinking that I¡¯m no more than twenty-five or thirty, perhaps. And they are full of confusion, but say nothing because of my reputation of cruel and important man. Can you believe it?¡±


    Ehrir smiled at the pure cheerfulness in Ostrias¡¯ words and quietly waited for him to continue speaking.


    ¡°If I have to be honest, however¡­¡± the man¡¯s expression turned to seriousness. ¡°Let me see¡­ If I¡¯m not mistaken, this year I¡¯ll be four hundred and sixty-eight years old.¡±


    Ehrir almost fainted, but kept standing on his feet. Barely.


    ¡°Master¡­ Are you joking with me? I¡­ I believed only the Changelings could extend their lives to such¡­ such an extent¡­¡±


    His words just invoked another grin from Ostrias.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not one of them. I¡¯m just of Emhaelic descent. Through the countless generations the unnatural longevity of the ancient¡¯s civilization nobles is still carried on. I can live much longer than normal humans, mainly because my oldest ancestors, those who came even before the Emhaels, were non-human. And besides¡­ I¡¯m from the Inner Fantasy. Everyone there is more long-lived than usual.¡±


    ¡°The¡­ Inner Fantasy?¡±


    Shock was written all over Ehrir¡¯s face. The Inner Fantasy was just a myth ¨C a land of legends somewhere to the far south where mages reigned over all people and the laws of nature didn¡¯t work as intended. Could it be real?


    ¡°Oh¡­ I see this is some new knowledge for you. Please go and rest a bit. It can be helpful in such situations. A servant will come to inform you when our little ritual will take place¡±, said Ostrias. His tone was calming and caring.


    Ehrir couldn¡¯t do anything besides follow the advice of the Ashen Gaze. He really had the need to rest. And to comprehend the new information given to him.


    The Clairvoyance was to be held early in the morning of the next day.

 Chapter 14 - Clairvoyance

    On the following morning Ehrir¡¯s mind was still a mess. To process all the new information given to him was quite hard. The Inner Fantasy, people living for hundreds of years, blood of non-humans and Emhaels still running strong in their descendants¡¯ veins¡­ And the fact that the memories of his creator were buried somewhere deep inside of him. It was too much to handle and even sleeping in a fine bed without everything around him shaking couldn¡¯t help him clear his thoughts.


    And came the time for Clairvoyance. ¡°It¡¯s too early for this kind of thing¡±, Ehrir thought. It was too early for anything, in fact. The sun had just recently risen up from the boundless eastern azure of the Cargaen Sea. Its warm rays couldn¡¯t fend off the chilly feeling in the air, left by the night¡¯s coldness. Not right away, at least. The temperatures in the mansion¡¯s halls weren¡¯t particularly pleasant and the servant girl that led him to Ostrias¡¯ room was shaking slightly. Ehrir could only sympathize with her, because he quickly realized the possibility to let his magic energy flow through him. He didn¡¯t hesitate to do it and was instantly filled with inner warmth that negated the surrounding air¡¯s frigidity. And just yesterday he thought that the people of Ale Bay had no need for fireplaces¡­


    ¡°Damn it¡±, he cussed in a low tone. ¡°I should¡¯ve brought my coat.¡±


    ¡°I know exactly how you¡¯re feeling, milord¡±, uttered the girl leading him. She was still shaking. ¡°I do.¡±


    The two of them spent the remaining part of the walk through the halls in silence.


    Ostrias¡¯ room was warm and flames were dancing in its massive fireplace. This time the Ashen Gaze was sitting in a huge chair next to an elegant table of considerable size. He looked fresh and the usual smile was hanging on his face. Besides him was Sevrian, although the old man wasn¡¯t in his best shape ¨C the dark circles under his eyes and his frowned expression didn¡¯t hold even a hint of happiness for the current situation.


    ¡°Ah, you¡¯re here, young friend! Come, come, take a seat¡±, said Ostrias merrily.


    He patiently waited for the Ehrir to follow his advice and then spoke again.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you aren¡¯t familiar with this¡­ this thing on the table. Am I correct?¡± He pointed with his finger at the strange in front of him. It was a wooden disc with a four flat metal boards embedded in it. They weren¡¯t made of iron, steel or any precious metal that Ehrir could recognize. The four of them were connected to one another through a circle in the center of which laid a beautiful piece of shining nephrite.


    Ehrir took a good look at the disc and shook his head.


    ¡°Then let me explain¡­ This device is known as ¡°mind-connection circle¡±. It¡¯s made out of ordinary wood, but the ore used for creating its elements is riantum, one of the few materials in the world that allows the flow of soul energy through itself. The stone in the center of all this is a remnant from times of old. It¡¯s a creation of the non-humans and hold a strong charge of Control that could somehow live in this piece of nephrite for thousands of years. It is part of a specific branch of the discipline, though ¨C one that is capable to suck in people¡¯s memories and then return them straight to their heads. When we both touch the metal and let our energy flow through it, you shall let the stone enter your head and take what¡¯s needed. That¡¯ll happen under my guidance, of course. Then our magic will enter it too and we¡¯ll able to view the memories of the Changeling left in you.¡± Ostrias went quiet for a moment. ¡°Oh, I should add that this is also quite expensive and today is the first chance to truly justify its price.¡±


    Ehrir listened to the Ashen Gaze¡¯s explanations in silence. After Ostrias finished talking the Undone One just confirmed that he understood the man¡¯s words.


    ¡°Shall we begin then?¡±


    ¡°Yes, master. I¡¯m ready.¡± Ehrir was sitting on a chair on the opposite side of the table. He quickly extended his hands and touched the device¡¯s metal parts. He felt nothing. But that changed once he let his magic energy go through the riantum.


    His senses were instantly bombarded with a stream of vague feelings. They were all similar in nature and somehow tried to touch his mind and thoughts. Soon they united into one and it wasn¡¯t just an undefined sensation anymore. It was more like some being or a presence that was doing its best to get into his brain.


    The hair on Ehrir¡¯s neck stood up.


    ¡°This¡­ This is really bizarre¡±, he uttered.


    ¡°I know, I know¡­ But everyone has had worse, right?¡± Ostrias had also placed his hand on the metal. The nephrite was slowly filling with bright light. ¡°Now you have to let the stone¡¯s power enter your consciousness. Don¡¯t fight it and try to not think about it. That¡¯s all it takes.¡±


    ¡°Okay. But I want to ask something first¡­¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Go on. I¡¯m listening.¡±


    ¡°If only the two of us are performing the Clairvoyance¡­ Why is master Sevrian here?¡±


    Now it was time for the old man to smirk.


    ¡°I¡¯m just an overseer, young man¡±, proclaimed he. ¡°It¡¯s a boring job, although necessary.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just as he says¡±, added Ostrias. ¡°The Clairvoyance can get dangerous sometimes. So a guardian is needed. He watches the process from aside and tries to detect any change in the energy flow from the mind-connection circle. I hope we won¡¯t need his assistance today. Now, let¡¯s not waste any more time. Ehrir, proceed.¡±


    After these words the Undone One closed his eyes. He didn¡¯t know what exactly he had to do to allow the stone¡¯s presence in his head, but he tried to distance himself from it and from everything else. It took some time for him to stop resisting to the nephrite¡¯s powers subconsciously, but in the end he did it.


    The presence entered his brain quickly and painlessly and he felt it dwelling inside of him. And then it started doing¡­ something. He couldn¡¯t put a name on it, but he felt his insides emptier after it was done. And yet nothing disappeared from his mind.


    ¡°First part of the process is done. Now you have to concentrate your energy and strike the nephrite through the metal.¡± Ostrias was calm and confident. Ehrir followed his instructions slowly.


    The first try didn¡¯t work out, of course. It was the same as with expanding his abilities beyond Manipulation, but this time he needed just a few repeats instead of whole days of training. His fifth energy strike felt just right. It effortlessly went through the riantum and entered the gemstone¡¯s piece. The world suddenly started darkening.


    ¡°Wha¡­ What¡¯s happening, master?¡± Those were the only words Ehrir could utter. His voice sounded distanced and cold to himself.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry¡­ It is normal, indeed.¡± It was like Ostrias¡¯ voice came from the depths of some unknown ocean. Ehrir barely heard him before he sank in a bottomless pit of nothingness. He couldn¡¯t even think about how similar this strange abyss was to the one he was lost in before awakening as an Undone One.


    ***


    When Ehrir arose from the darkness, he was in a different body. And yet he still felt that the sight in front of him was somehow faraway. In addition all of his senses were dulled. It took him a mere moment to realize that he was viewing the memories of the Changeling. Of his creator.


    He was standing in the middle of a city street. But it was far from an ordinary one. It was at least a hundred steps wide and stretched towards the horizon both behind and in front of him. There was no stones or pavement beneath his feet but a softly glowing crystal. The boulevard was surrounded by giant palaces of incredible grandeur and flooded by countless people. All of them were looking rich and powerful in their ornamented clothes and with countless rings, pendants and medallions. Some were wearing golden or silver headbands.


    ¡°You know, Arleon¡­ When you¡¯ve lived here for two centuries, the whole feeling of incredibleness, grandiosity and brilliance just fades away. Back in my young years the city wasn¡¯t very different from now, yet it was the most beautiful and unique thing that I had ever seen... I guess that the years can really change things.¡± Spoke the man that the Undone One was in.


    The Changeling whose body Ehrir inhabited was walking down the boulevard. Besides him was a middle-aged man with greying hair and a thick moustache. His neck and throat were covered in nasty scars.


    ¡°I guess you are right, lord¡±, uttered he. His voice sounded strange, like it was damaged by something. ¡°I haven¡¯t lived nearly as much as you. For me all of this still seems¡­ magnificent.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t blame you. One cannot expect less from the richest city of the Inner Fantasy.¡±


    Ehrir felt shocked. This place far exceeded the scale and beauty of every other settlement he had ever seen, but he couldn¡¯t expect that it was located within the land of legends¡­ The place that he recently didn¡¯t even believe existed was now unveiled before him in its utmost glory.


    The Changeling and his friend ¨C or subordinate, judging by the way of addressing him with the title ¡°lord¡± ¨C continued walking and chatting. Their discussion was mostly centered on their surroundings and the trivial details of life. Ehrir couldn¡¯t figure anything out of this piece of memory. Could it be just some random bit left in his mind by chance? Perhaps, but he hoped this wasn¡¯t the case.


    And then came the line that took the Undone One¡¯s attention.


    ¡°I thought about this for a long time¡­ We can¡¯t remain here anymore, Arleon. We should go somewhere in the outside world. Even in the Outer Fantasy, if it¡¯s necessary.¡± There was seriousness in the tone of these words.


    Arleon¡¯s face twisted. He was visibly confused.


    ¡°Why is that all of a sudden, lord? Everything is just¡­ fine here. The whole east is in peace. The minor wars on the borders aren¡¯t a reason for us to go anywhere. And even if a major conflict erupted, we still have the protection of¡­¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand, Arleon!¡± The high voice of the Changeling attracted some gazes. ¡°I can sense it in the air. It may take a dozen  of years. Or thirty. Or half a century. But for me it doesn¡¯t matter. Something big is coming. A war of colossal proportions. It will devastate this whole realm. I¡­ I consulted the Lake of the Broken Chains. It showed only obscure and misty signs, but¡­ I¡¯m sure of it. There isn¡¯t a place in the Inner Fantasy that will be safe from the coming storm.¡±


    With every word Arleon became paler and paler.


    ¡°I¡­ know what you speak is the truth, lord. It¡¯s just hard to believe. Or I don¡¯t want to believe it, rather.¡± His voice turned into a whisper. ¡°But if the Lake of the Broken Chains shows it, it¡¯ll happen. Then¡­ where shall we go?¡±


    ¡°To the Outer Fantasy. And to the north.¡±


    The last phrase sent cold chills down Ehrir¡¯s spine. So this was the moment. These words began the chain of events that would eventually lead to him becoming an Undone One. He couldn¡¯t even comprehend their full impact right now. If he was given a little time¡­


    But he was not. After these words the world darkened again. And then the abyss opened and ate him.

 Chapter 15 - Memories of a Changeling

    Ehrir arose from the cold, dark pit for a second time and found himself in the Changeling¡¯s body again. But his surroundings were different. Very, very different.


    The landscape in front of him was familiar. A dead-looking forest engulfed in silence. There wasn¡¯t a single leaf upon the trees nor any sign of life besides himself and the plants. And Arleon, too.


    The middle-aged man had changed since the last memory Ehrir observed, although not by much. His face was the same and the scars on his neck and throat didn¡¯t look even a little bit more healed. But his hair was all grey now and a lot longer, while his moustache was shaved off entirely. The elegant and noble clothes from the previous vision were gone. He wore a simple coat and a cloak as black as his eyes. There was some unknown kind of grief written on his face¡­ Ehrir wanted to ask him why that is, but he didn¡¯t have any kind of control over the memory.


    The two men walked without exchanging a word for some time. They were wearing only a little bit of baggage with themselves. It was a strange scene for Ehrir ¨C the contrast between it and the liveliness and magnificence of the city from before was stunning. This forest was a part of the Outer Fantasy. The Undone One could just feel it.


    But it wasn¡¯t just a speck of his own realm. It was a very particular place. Ehrir could recognize it like he had seen it yesterday.


    It was the forest where he awakened for the first time.


    ¡°Arleon, you¡¯ve all aged up now¡­ I guess things are still calm in the Inner Fantasy, eh?¡± spoke the Changeling. He sounded different.


    ¡°They indeed are, lord.¡± The man¡¯s voice now sounded better than last time. There wasn¡¯t the strange raspy feeling to it.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t call me that. You are not my subordinate anymore. Everything you¡¯ve done¡­ It¡¯s not thanks to me. For you I should be just Farnaraen. Not ¡®master¡¯ and definitely not ¡®lord¡¯.¡±


    ¡°If you say so¡±, answered Arleon unconfidently and returned to silence.


    He spoke again after a couple of minutes.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t changed at all¡­ Farnaraen.¡± The name was pronounced with heavy respect, but Ehrir could sense the level of fear lurking behind it.


    The Changeling started giggling for some unknown reason, but his laugh quickly turned into a painful coughing. Ehrir could feel its unpleasant sensation barely.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t lie to me¡­¡± uttered the sorcerer after a while. ¡°I¡¯m just a remnant of my past self.¡±


    After these words the Changeling looked down on his own body. Ehrir would start trembling at the sight if he could. The bones beneath his skin were clearly visible under the simple fur shirt he wore. His arms were thin and pale, covered in wrinkles. How could this man be a Changeling? Ehrir felt immense confusion. The picture of a Changeling created in his mind was of an eternally young and powerful man. The appearance of his creator contradicted it to the core.


    ¡°I have to extend my life soon, Arleon¡­ Otherwise I won¡¯t last even half a year.¡± Farnaraen sighed deeply. ¡°I¡¯ve neglected it for so long. I can sense my soul barely clinging onto this dying piece of flesh. And it isn¡¯t enjoyable. I tried to stay away from civilization and from the whole of mankind for dozens of years. It¡¯s only normal for my body to demand the ritual.


    ¡°I know¡­¡± mumbled Arleon quietly.


    The Changeling shook his head.


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t. Don¡¯t get me wrong ¨C you¡¯ve been through great hardships too, but¡­ Do you know why I isolated myself? I could¡¯ve easily returned to the Inner Fantasy, but I chose not to. I even tried to stay away from everyone¡­ Do you have any idea why I did all of this?¡± Although it sounded weaker than in the previous memory, Farnaraen¡¯s voice still held some might and it showed.


    ¡°No, lor¡­ I don¡¯t, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Then let me make it clear for you¡±, said the Changeling with a grim tone. ¡°I¡¯m afraid, Arleon. After all that happened so many years ago. You and I both saw how easily peace can crumble and be replaced by war and destruction. I have experienced it dozens of times before, but this¡­ it somehow changed me. I¡¯m afraid that my surroundings can be devastated by the mere presence of any other people. Perhaps I¡¯m too old for these kinds of things. Maybe this is my curse, the curse of us all ¨C we have the ability to live forever, yet most of us die by their own hand¡­ When I was younger I wondered why. I think I¡¯ve got the answer now.¡± The last words were uttered with a voice full of regret and some undefined sadness.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    The two continued onwards quietly for some time. Ehrir thought that this will occupy the whole remainder of the memory. Then Arleon spoke.


    ¡°But then¡­ What is the answer?¡± The middle-aged man had a spark of curiosity in his black eyes, but he was obviously still uncomfortable with asking this question.


    ¡°Well, dear Arleon, I think that sometimes you just start demanding your own death in one way or another. When the years ¨C or centuries ¨C weigh down your shoulders too much life itself becomes monotonous and meaningless. I have seen everything worth seeing in this life and felt every emotion there is. You¡¯ll probably think the same as me after millennia or two. And then you¡¯ll want to die just as me right now. Because this kind of existence isn¡¯t worth anything anymore¡­ I would¡¯ve thrown myself down a mountain cliff long time ago if it wasn¡¯t for the scenes I saw in the Lake of the Broken Chains.¡±


    Arleon¡¯s expression instantly became worried and he visibly paled.


    ¡°I thought that all the visions had already happened¡­¡± he mumbled.


    ¡°They haven¡¯t, sadly. But they¡¯ll do soon. And I have to be there. I aim to change them. To manipulate the course of history. It¡¯s a heavy task, but there is no one else who is able to perform it rightly¡­ Ah, here we are.¡±


    While the two men were talking they reached an opening in the woods. Ehrir felt an indescribable sensation when he recognized it. The dry, lifeless meadow was the just the same as he remembered. But there were no corpses and the smell of decay didn¡¯t permeate the air.


    ¡°I intend for my next ritual to be held here, my friend.¡± Farnaraen smiled and rose his hand up. Above his palm flames emerged and quickly formed a glowing shape. The Brand.


    It was matching with the ones upon Ehrir¡¯s palms down to every little detail and curve. It danced above the Changeling¡¯s palm and emanated bright crimson light. The flames it was made out of looked strange, unnatural and somehow¡­ cold. The Undone One couldn¡¯t even express the bizarreness they brought to his dull senses.


    ¡°This is the first time I summon my Brand in the last fifteen years¡±, said Farnaraen bitterly. ¡°I¡¯d prefer to never see this filth again, but it is necessary.¡±


    Arleon was watching the sorcerer with respectful, but baffled gaze.


    ¡°How long are we gonna stay here? And why exactly this place?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I saw this meadow back in the Lake¡­ It took me quite a few years of exploration to find it, but I¡¯m sure it is the right location. I must make the ritual here. Don¡¯t ask me why, I just know it. About the longevity of our deed¡­ I don¡¯t know. You should watch the road, though. I need about forty people. I could use more, but it¡¯d be a waste of lives for now. Threaten the ones you find, if you have to. Then bring ¡®em here.¡± Farnaraen¡¯s voice was confident and demanding, as if he was ordering the middle-aged man. Although the Changeling remarked that he was no longer Arleon¡¯s master, Ehrir didn¡¯t feel such a vibe from this scene. It was clear as day who held the leader¡¯s position here.


    The grey-haired man just nodded after every word and dared to speak only when his ¡®lord¡¯ stopped.


    ¡°How many years would you think forty people can give you?¡±


    The Changeling shrugged his shoulders.


    ¡°Two, maybe three. It¡¯s been getting lower and lower through the last two centuries.¡±


    Arleon didn¡¯t utter anything in return, but only looked around harshly. Ehrir could tell that the meadow (and the forest, and probably even the whole Outer Fantasy) wasn¡¯t to his liking.


    ¡°I will do what you expect from me, Farnaraen¡±, he finally said. ¡°Shall we travel to the south after the ritual?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡±, spoke the Changeling with a smirk. ¡°And ¨C albeit I don¡¯t want it ¨C the world shall hear the name of Farnaraen the Thirdborn yet again.¡±


    After this statement came silence. Except for the wind. It blew quietly and soon brought the world¡¯s darkening. The memory had ended and Ehrir was even more confused now. In truth, he was full to the brim with different emotions. Anger (how could the Changeling think of him and other humans as mere fuel for his life?) rose within him, along with contempt, shock and disgust. He didn¡¯t even notice the pit opening around because of the storm of intense emotions burning in his chest. The darkness swallowed him quietly, but it quickly turned into greyness and then into eye-piercing white light.


    ***


    Ehrir woke up and inhaled deeply. Ostrias¡¯ room was now fully lit by the morning sunrays, but it hadn¡¯t changed one bit otherwise. The old man and his master were still resting in their chairs, although Sevrian had a worried look and the Ashen Gaze was breathing sharply and intensively. His face was covered in sweat.


    ¡°Ah¡­ damn it¡­¡± cussed Ostrias. He added a few more curses, each one fiercer than the last. ¡°How could he be alive?¡±


    ¡°Who, master? The man that was with the sorcerer?¡± asked Ehrir.


    ¡°No¡­ They were both sorcerers. They were both Changelings, in fact. But the one I¡¯m searching for is the companion of your creator¡­ Arleon.¡±


    The Undone One was left more or less stunned by Ostrias¡¯ proclamation. Arleon was the man that the Ashen Gaze was after? He was the powerful Changeling that took important role in the Inner Fantasy¡¯s politics? But he was full of fear and obedience before Ehrir¡¯s creator¡­


    ¡°Young friend, the first scene we saw wasn¡¯t from recent years¡­¡± Ostrias began speaking. His grin was gone. ¡°I know the city where it took place. It was destroyed almost three hundred years ago in an event that shook the whole south. The Lake of the Broken Chains that your creator talked about is one of the few artifacts able to show the future ¨C or vague hints of it, perhaps ¨C but it was also lost at that time. The crisis in which it was annihilated is probably the event that this Changeling saw. In these years both I and Arleon were relatively young for our kind of people. But your creator¡­ he was the sole master of Arleon and was far older than me¡­¡± the Ashen Gaze stopped for a second as if not knowing what to say. ¡°Three centuries ago he was a legendary figure, although his appearance and goals were unknown to most people. All mages I know thought that he died during the crisis at that time, but¡­ we were obviously wrong. Even now his legacy is affecting the Inner Fantasy indirectly¡­¡± Sevrian¡¯s master swallowed. ¡°He was said to be more than four thousand years old¡­ Farnaraen, the third Changeling to ever arise!¡±

 Chapter 16 - One Surprise After Another

    Ostrias¡¯ words left Ehrir in shock. His eyes widened. He couldn¡¯t quite swallow the piece of information given to him. The name Farnaraen was unknown to him, but who haven¡¯t heard the myths about the first five Changelings that emerged from the mists of time in an obscure era countless centuries ago? It was a tale older than the northern kingdoms and only vaguely remembered by people¡­ And yet he was the creation of one of these legendary men!


    ¡°Unbelievable¡±, he muttered. ¡°The Thirdborn¡­ I thought the first ones were just fairy tales¡­¡±


    ¡°Well, if it helps, all of the world thought he was dead for the last three centuries¡±, said Ostrias while shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s a great shock to me too, if I have to be honest. Farnaraen being alive means that the right to rule above all Changelings belongs to him, as no other amongst the original five is still breathing. He can create quite a mess if he just arrives in the Inner Fantasy¡­¡± He paused for a bit. ¡°Oh, the Clairvoyance sure is a mesmerizing thing¡­ They absolutely didn¡¯t speak your tongue originally, but your mind somehow changed that¡­¡±


    Ehrir heard every word of the Ashen Gaze, but didn¡¯t respond nor did he react in any way. The minutes went on in silence, except for a few sentences exchanged between Sevrian and Ostrias. The old man looked shocked. Fear was written on his face. The atmosphere was grim and the servant that arrived soon felt it and tried to get out as quickly as possible. He returned, though, with food and drinks. But nobody touched the delicious-looking fruits and the newly made bread with rich amounts of butter on it. Despite that the three goblets with weak wine were gulped down quickly.


    ¡°So¡­ the Changeling you are looking for is travelling with¡­ with the Thirdborn?¡± Ehrir finally uttered with considerable amounts of effort.


    Ostrias nodded. His expression was gravely.


    ¡°Yes, although he is probably more of a servant to Farnaraen than a comrade in his journey. The older Changeling is definitely choosing their route and that is highly problematic. See, I knew Arleon, more or less. He prefers to travel loudly and luxuriously and can¡¯t be missed. But the Thirdborn¡­ He was known as a hideous and cunning man. We probably won¡¯t be able to sense him even if we eat in the same room as him. Damn it¡­¡± the Ashen Gaze rubbed his temples. ¡°I don¡¯t want to discuss all of this right now¡­ You can go on and leave. I¡¯ll contact my subordinates soon and maybe by next week I¡¯ll be able to forge a plan. Consider yourselves invited to dine with me in the main hall this evening. Sevrian, bring your other disciples too.¡±            After these words the Ashen Gaze sank in silence and didn¡¯t open his mouth again. The old man and Ehrir bowed to him and left.


    Once in the hall Sevrian began cursing. The Undone One stood by and just watched.


    ¡°Fuck it¡±, he murmured after a dozen or so really creative cusses. ¡°This¡­ This is not good, young man. The whole south will become a boiling pan if they hear that one of the first five Changelings is still alive¡­ Peace will fade away quickly if Farnaraen appears. People like him have a god-like status even hundreds of years after their death. The Thirdborn will be able to raise an army in the blink of an eye if he wants to.¡± The old mage was speaking more or less to himself without acknowledging Ehrir. His gaze was foggy and unfocused. The Undone One walked with him to the entrance of his room on the first floor.


    Ehrir¡¯s chamber was of considerable size and it was cozy and comfortable. The windows looked at the mansion¡¯s gardens which were empty in this hour. The bed, the small table, the couch and the fireplace (in which small flames were still dancing) added to the pleasant vibe of the room. Previously the Undone One thought that he could just lie down and sleep a few more hours after the Clairvoyance, but he knew that this would be impossible right now. He couldn¡¯t even think about falling asleep after all that happened. No, he wanted to go somewhere where he could forget about Farnaraen, the Changelings and magic in general.


    So he took the opportunity and went to the harbor.


    ***


    Ehrir spent the day quite well. Nalevas was as lively as yesterday. He was just one amongst hundreds of people filling the city¡¯s streets. He had breakfast and lunch in two different pubs and visited a whole lot more. In most taverns he just tried different kinds of drinks or played hazard and other dice games with the customers. He wasn¡¯t skilled nor lucky in them so the money in his pockets, although not much in the first place, quickly shrank to just a handful of copper coins. Because of that he couldn¡¯t afford more gambling so in the afternoon he just walked across the harbor or sat in the streets¡¯ shadows. The day was colder than the last, but it still wasn¡¯t nowhere near as chilly as the normal autumn days up north. Near sunset it began getting a little bit colder and Ehrir finally stopped sweating. He wanted to just go grab some silver and visit another tavern, but the time for the dinner with Ostrias in the manor was approaching. He wasn¡¯t very willing to go, but¡­ Hell, he had to do it.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The mansion¡¯s guards were already familiar with him, so they let him pass without uttering a word. A servant girl welcomed him and led him to the main hall.


    The place was big and lit by half a dozen giant crystal chandeliers. It was mainly occupied by a table able to hold at least one hundred people. Currently only a small part of it was used by Ostrias, Sevrian, his two disciples and a bunch of other sorcerers serving under the Ashen Gaze. All in all there weren¡¯t more than twenty people there, although the amounts of food on the table didn¡¯t even hint at that.


    There were dozens of dishes served, from fruits and simple salads through different kinds of bread with herbs and spices, fish (both salted and fresh) and diverse types of meat. Ehrir¡¯s hunger quickly rose upon looking at such a sight. He quietly went up to Ostrias, greeted him and took his seat next to Nalia.


    ¡°Ya¡¯ look like you had quite a good day, huh?¡± asked the young woman while smiling cheerfully. This time she wasn¡¯t focusing on the wine or mead but instead was trying to stuff as much meat and buttered bread in her mouth. ¡°Oh, talk, talk, and don¡¯t mind me. I¡¯m just quite hungry, to be honest.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s rare¡­ and you eat without a solid portion of alcohol by your side? What¡¯s gonna happen next ¨C the sun¡¯s gonna rise up from the west?¡± answered Ehrir with a grin.


    ¡°Sis, I don¡¯t mean to interrupt, but he¡¯s right. This is probably the third time in the past two years in which you eat dinner without a goblet in your left hand¡±, added Varhel from the other side of the table with a smirk on his face.


    ¡°Are you challenging me?¡±


    ¡°No, no¡­ Don¡¯t take it that way.¡±


    The evening went on like that, with chatter, laughter and eating. Well, drinking too, although Nalia didn¡¯t touch the precisely located bottles on the table. Ehrir managed to introduce himself to the other sorcerers attending the dinner, but he couldn¡¯t bother with remembering their names nor those of their apprentices. The Undone One almost thought that the day could pass on without any additional surprises.


    And then someone entered the main hall.


    It was a tall, well-built man, no older than forty years. He had thick greying beard and a twisted nose obviously broken many times in the past. His clothes were akin to those of a traveler, with a cloak, knee-high boots and leather jacket covered in pockets. As soon as he saw Ostrias he kneeled.


    ¡°I salute you, master¡±, he said with a loud and clear voice.


    ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m not really sure who you are¡±, answered the Ashen Gaze with a smile. He looked completely recovered from the morning¡¯s shock. Maybe he just acted careless in front of his subordinates.


    ¡°My name is Oros, milord. I¡¯m a mercenary working for your subordinate Tael the Green Scar¡­¡± uttered the man. ¡°I¡¯m here to give you an important message from my master.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t it wait a little bit?¡±


    ¡°My master wanted me to deliver it as soon as possible. And to your hands and ears only.¡± The man didn¡¯t look up while speaking.


    Ostrias shook his head slowly and then shrugged his shoulders before getting up.


    ¡°Fine, fine. Stand up and come with me. All of you, don¡¯t wait for me¡­ This may take some time. Go on and eat or the food will go cold.¡± With these words the Ashen Gaze left the main hall, the mercenary following him quietly.


    Ehrir exchanged glances with Nalia and her brother.


    ¡°What the hell is this about?¡± murmured the young woman. ¡°Could it be¡­ that they located the Changeling that master Ostrias is looking for? Could your creator¡­ the Thirdborn, be with him?¡± The last sentence could be barely heard.


    Ehrir felt a cold chill down his spine. The brother and sister quickly learned about his nature as an Undone One back on the ship, but Farnaraen being his creator was something new.


    ¡°How do you know about that? Did the master tell you?¡±


    ¡°How does it look like?¡± Nalia¡¯s grin wasn¡¯t confident as usual. ¡°To think that one of these old bastards is still moving his ancient bones¡­ It¡¯s quite astonishing.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you tell me¡­¡± answered Ehrir bitterly.


    The sorcerers in the main hall waited for almost half an hour. The atmosphere slowly grew darker and nervousness appeared in the air. The relief was almost visible when the mercenary appeared again, but it didn¡¯t last for long.


    ¡°Master Ostrias wants the mage Sevrian and his apprentice Ehrir to visit his chambers immediately. Please, follow me.¡±


    The old man looked at his disciple, but didn¡¯t say anything and just got up. The Undone One went alongside him quietly. He could feel the gazes of everyone on the table fixated on his back and Sevrian¡¯s. It wasn¡¯t pleasant.


    Ostrias awaited them in his room. His face was dark and he began talking as soon as he saw the three men entering.


    ¡°Hear me out before you say anything. We don¡¯t have the time for greetings. We should head out to the south shores as soon as possible. This man¡±, he pointed to Oros, ¡°is bringing me news that a huge rogue army of deserters and bandits on the southern shores has been destroyed. The news spread quickly and one of the men that lived to tell the tale got in the hands of my subordinates. He told them that their army was destroyed by two sorcerers of incredible might, although one of them was clearly more powerful than the other. My servants suspect that one of them is Arleon¡­ If that is true, you¡­ you know who the other one is.¡±

 Chapter 17 - A Gathering of Sorcerers

    The wind blew from the sea and brought the smell of salt to Ehrir¡¯s nose. Who could¡¯ve thought that three weeks would pass so fast? The weather had already gotten colder and the once clear skies above Nalevas were now turned into a mosaic of steel-grey clouds and patches of blue. And the Undone One could finally go around the city¡¯s streets without constantly sweating. There were fewer ships in the harbor now, as the approaching winter turned the captains¡¯ attention to the southern shores. There was another sharp contrast in the vessels filling the bay, though. Most of them bore the Ashen Gaze¡¯s symbol now.


    Through the last weeks Ostrias had contacted his servants and subordinates and now the bigger part of them had already arrived on the archipelago. They were a remarkable bunch of people both in personal traits and appearance. Each of them brought at least one or two disciples, but some had ten or even more. The mansion¡¯s rooms were occupied quickly and most of the arriving people had to sleep in the city¡¯s inns. Ale Bay was turned into a huge gathering of sorcerers of all ages, nations and levels of talent. All of these dozens and dozens of people served the Ashen Gaze and this just reinforced the strong feeling of astonishment towards Ostrias that Ehrir had from the moment he met him.


    The mage from the Inner Fantasy planned to lead all of his servants with him to the south, but to contact and get moving was quite slow and heavy task. Almost a month had passed and roughly a quarter (according to Ostrias) of his people still hadn¡¯t even reached the Archipelago of Claws. And as every hour passed everyone¡¯s patience ran lower and lower. The idea to leave someone behind waiting for the wizards still travelling towards Nalevas was getting more popular lately. Ehrir was supporting it himself, but the opinion of a mere sorcerer¡¯s apprentice didn¡¯t really matter.


    The Undone One was currently standing on the seaside alley of the harbor and looking at the newest subordinate of Ostrias that was just arriving. It was an elderly man in a snow-white robe. ¡°Nothing too interesting¡±, thought Ehrir. The amount of weird-looking people that he saw over the last couple of week was simply too great for him to be amazed at this old man, even with the immense amounts of warmth and power he could sense from him. He was only traversing these parts of town because the mansion became a giant swarm of people, full of too much noise and movement for a sane person.


    Ehrir had spent most of the previous weeks engulfed in studies about the nature of magic. He also trained his abilities and managed to better them by a bit, although the best thing he could outside of Manipulation was a flame not much bigger than his fist. It was still enough of a progress, just too insignificant for anyone else besides the old man, Nalia and her brother. It was still something, though.


    When it came to his Manipulation¡­ Well, that was quite a different topic. His progression was fast and easy and everything in that field of study came naturally. He was still far from turning things into precious metals or passing the barrier that restricted him from transforming soft materials into hard ones, but his speed and the sheer size of the things that he was able to grew significantly. He had spent a considerable amount of time studying Emhaelic and was finally able to grasp some of the texts stored in the massive library of both old and new tomes in Ostrias¡¯ manor. Because of his talents he focused mainly on alchemy and other branches of Manipulation. And there were a lot of them. Things like changing one¡¯s own flesh, quickly transforming ordinary items into high-quality weapons or using the surroundings to defend or protect oneself were all in their separate categories, along with at least a dozen others. It was both fascinating and complex.


    With a quick shrug of his shoulders the Undone One fended off the swarm of thoughts in his head and sharply inhaled. Time for lunch was quickly approaching and he didn''t have even a single copper coin in his pockets. He had to return to the manor. Walking to there was a troublesome thing - since the gathering of mages began every subordinate of the Ashen Gaze had to wear his symbol as a patch on his or her clothing. Ehrir had it upon his coat and it was easily visible. That made going through the streets a task full of gasps and whispers from the commoners and useless greetings from fellow mages and disciples. The Undone One still felt contempt towards them - his hatred for sorcerers couldn''t fade away for mere three weeks. The few good ones that he got to know weren''t able to make this mix of hatred, disgust and fear simply go away.


    The mansion itself was completely different from its calm and quiet self that Ehrir saw in the beginning of his stay there. The meadows and open spaces in the gardens were occupied by the tents of feral wizards, shamans, ¡°stargazers¡± and other weird mages. The number of guards was tripled and yet they couldn''t keep an eye on all of the non-stop movement going on in and around the building.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    The fact that a simple apprentice such as Ehrir could keep living in the mansion was surprising to most of Ostrias¡¯ subordinates. All except the strongest among the Undone One¡¯s equals had moved to Nalevas¡¯ inns, Nalia and Varhel included. All of the building¡¯s rooms were currently occupied by mages of at least Sevrian¡¯s level of capabilities. Nobody but a handful of people knew the real reason behind Ehrir¡¯s stay.


    After the Clairvoyance the Ashen Gaze started putting his attention on him and the ancient mage¡¯s opinion of him quickly grew. Ostrias also held a few sessions of Clairvoyance with him, but they were in vain, as all the memories of Farnaraen left in the Undone One¡¯s mind (except those already revealed) were too vague and short to be made sense of. It was a disappointment, but the old mage was happy with that already seen by him so he stopped doing the rituals. Still, he kept Ehrir by his side, just in case.


    However, during most of the time the Undone One was free to do as he pleased, although the bigger chunk of his days was still spent in the library or with Sevrian. But now his master was nowhere to be seen. On the other hand, the chance to read or practice in the filled with ghostly-looking old people athenaeum didn¡¯t sound very enjoyable. He could always stay in his room, of course, but that could be more than just boring. The place was cozy, but not interesting in any way.


    Well, it was going to be an uneventful afternoon¡­


    ¡°Hey, you! Are you Ehrir, master Sevrian¡¯s apprentice?¡± a voice suddenly rang from the opposite side of the hall where the Undone One was standing.


    ***


    The lunches and breakfasts at the mansion were far less massive in scope compared to the grandiose dinners held almost every evening. The chandeliers weren''t lit and sunrays flooded the main hall with subtle light. The big table wasn''t covered in food, however. Instead those who came were served right away according to their own liking. There wasn''t an exact time for lunch or breakfast so it was crowded only at noon. Sadly, noon was now. Even so, there was only one man besides Ehrir - middle-aged and black-haired, with sharp facial features, greenish blue eyes and a short, well-shaped beard in addition. His appetite was astonishing and he was already on his third plate of beef with potatoes.


    ¡°So, that mercenary¡­ Oros, was it? He told you about me?¡± Ehrir wasn¡¯t merciful to the food before him, too, and was munching on a piece of pork stew.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ He mentioned you must be pretty important for master Ostrias¡±, answered the man with mouth half-full of meat. He had taken him here and started a very friendly chat while offering him good things to eat. His name was Lantor and he introduced himself as the son of one of the mages residing in the manor. He was of the same power as Ehrir, but the position of his father made him a full-on independent sorcerer. Well, independent was quite a bold term when all of the magicians here served under one particular man.


    ¡°Important is¡­ probably not the right word. However, why did you seek me out? It¡¯s probably not just because I¡¯m¡­ important.¡±


    ¡°You are right. See, it¡¯s really not my right to ask you this¡­ But I heard you are good with Manipulation. And it took a damned long time to hear that! I had just a name and the idea you are important¡­ Eh, all of this doesn¡¯t matter. Look¡­¡± Lantor exhaled, ¡°I¡¯m looking for someone like you. The reason is simple: I want to create a weapon.¡±


    Ehrir threw a confused glance at the man.


    ¡°A weapon? But I¡¯m not so good with Manipulation to create usable swords or axes or¡­¡±


    ¡°No, no, I don¡¯t mean this! I have the weapon already. But I want to imbue it with a passive Destruction magic¡­ Basically I want to make a flaming sword, more or less. However, the normal metals won¡¯t allow for magic to stay in them. Your Manipulation¡­ it may change this without me having to sell my soul for a bit of riantum. I don¡¯t exactly know how to make steel or iron magically durable, but you should be able to. Somehow. And after that we can repeat the process with a weapon of your choice and then you can have it¡­ The result can be pretty deadly, to say the least. You¡¯ll be glad to have such a thing in your arsenal. So¡­ are you up for it?¡±


    Ehrir sank in thought immediately. There really weren¡¯t any disadvantages about this deal. And he still remembered the fight against the pirates and the situation with the three bandits back in Borhael. His Changing was not nearly enough to protect him properly and only the luck (or the will of the gods) spared him from death. He was in need of a weapon and a magical one at that.


    But there was another reason. And it was forming deep inside of him, in the black seas of hidden hatred for the Changelings and his own creator. It was a faraway dream. Pretty much absurd and childish, but it was still a dream¡­


    After all, how could he kill Farnaraen without a proper blade in his hands?

 Chapter 18 - The Knowledge to Create Magical Blades

    The sword had a fine, long steel blade, shining proudly under the soft light entering through the windows and bathing the room in pleasant glow. The cross guard was richly ornamented and the grip was covered in smooth brown leather, enjoyable to the touch. The pommel was in the shape of a dragon¡¯s head. The creature¡¯s eyes were made of small turquoise beads.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s really beautiful¡±, mumbled Ehrir as he held it in his hands. His statement made Lantor grin.


    The two of them were in the latter¡¯s room. It was located at the first floor of the mansion and was considerably bigger and more luxurious than Ehrir¡¯s. The Undone One wasn¡¯t surprised ¨C the man in front of him was an independent mage, after all.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you like it. It was a present from my father for my fifteenth birthday.¡± Lantor¡¯s face got dreamy really fast.  ¡°I was really obsessed with knights and warriors back then, because my brother is one¡­ But my awakening as a wizard set me on another path and made me no longer interested in ordinary weapons. It has been collecting dust ever since¡­ Such a good sword shouldn¡¯t turn into a meaningless antique.¡±


    Ehrir nodded in agreement.


    ¡°So¡­¡± he spoke after a moment, ¡°do you have an idea how exactly am I supposed to make magical energy stay in the blade?¡±


    Lantor shook his head in a desperate manner.


    ¡°No¡­¡± He went quiet for a second. ¡°I thought that most of those talented in Manipulation can do it by instinct or something like that. And even if I didn¡¯t¡­ most of the mages skilled in this discipline are hideous. Alchemists and the likes of such, especially. And this is, more or less, work for someone of their kind.¡±


    Ehrir swallowed and fixated his eyes straight on the man in front of him.


    ¡°Then why me? I¡¯m just an apprentice¡­ My master isn¡¯t even an expert when it comes to Manipulation.¡±


    Lantor showed an unconfident smirk.


    ¡°I¡­¡± He stopped for a moment. ¡°Don¡¯t take this as an insult, Ehrir, but¡­ most of the people with talents akin to yours are a bunch of greedy bastards. They can¡¯t just create gold or silver left and right because it¡¯s a fairly complicated process, or so I¡¯ve heard. And because of this simple fact they¡¯ve turned to selling their power. And I¡¯d definitely use the opportunity and buy some if it wasn¡¯t so damned expensive. Only people with the wealth of my father or above can afford their magic, but I can¡¯t just ask my old man for so much gold. He¡¯ll definitely refuse to do lend me that amount in the first place.¡± Lantor sighed deeply. ¡°And so I¡¯ve come to you.¡±


    Ehrir looked at the man¡¯s regretful expression. There was even a hint of sadness within it. Lantor really wanted this magical blade, for one reason or another, and the Undone One could easily see that he hadn¡¯t told him everything behind this exact weapon and the idea to enchant it. But it wasn¡¯t the time to ask unnecessary questions or doubt anything. The chance to have his own magical sword or axe (although he wasn¡¯t good with any kind of armament, really) was alluring. And yet¡­ he still didn¡¯t know how to fulfill Lantor¡¯s request.


    ¡°Man¡­¡± he said slowly, ¡°I can¡¯t do it. I have no idea how. Not a hint, even.¡±


    Lantor frowned. His face twisted into a grim, serious expression.


    ¡°Please, Ehrir¡±, he begged. ¡°You can at least try. Hell¡­ I¡¯ll even pay you to do so. I can¡¯t offer much, but¡­¡±


    The Undone One stopped him with a simple gesture.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to give me any money¡±, he said with a gentle yet reassuring tone. A slight smile was dancing on his face. Lantor¡¯s honesty and confidence were admirable. ¡°I¡¯ll do it. But I won¡¯t succeed. Probably.¡±


    The sorcerer¡¯s face lit up almost instantly. His smirk was warm and pleasant.


    ¡°Thank you¡±, he said seriously. ¡°You won¡¯t regret it. Now¡­ If you excuse me, I¡¯ll sit down and be quiet. I don¡¯t want to distract you.¡± After these words Lantor sank in his couch and started watching Ehrir carefully.


    The Undone One swallowed and placed the sword on the table in front of him. He could sense the coldness of the metal through his gloves. The blade was hardy and well-balanced, and more than able to cut through leather, wood, flesh and bone. He could turn it into a lot of things and the power surging on the tips of his fingers was easily sensible. But to make it hold magic¡­ He had to think of something new, something¡­ unexperienced by him before. In such a situation improvisation was the best choice.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Ehrir started to let his energy flow through the blade. It was instantly evaporated, of course ¨C this wasn¡¯t riantum and it couldn¡¯t let magic stay inside of it. It was useless. So he tried another thing. And then another. But every method he used, be it trying to change the sturdiness or overall shape of the blade or transform into a completely different metal, didn¡¯t work. He even tried to turn it into riantum, but it was useless. This particular material felt distanced and pretty much untouchable for his Manipulation, just as the precious ones. The minutes just passed him by and success was nowhere to be seen. He struggled on for almost half an hour. But it was useless.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do it. Sorry¡±, Ehrir uttered in the end. He was drippling in sweat and breathing heavily. The extensive use of magic had exhausted him.


    Lantor nodded gravely. His expression held both disappointment and reconciliation within it.


    ¡°Thanks for trying. I hope we can meet again sometime, if you learn how to do it. Even if this isn¡¯t the case¡­ I¡¯d love to have a drink with you.¡± He smiled faintly.


    Ehrir didn¡¯t know what to say, so he mumbled a quick ¡®goodbye¡¯ and headed out of the room.


    And then Lantor¡¯s voice stopped him.


    ¡°Hey¡­ Do you think you will be able to do it if someone provided you with the right knowledge on the matter?¡±


    Ehrir turned around and met the man¡¯s blueish gaze. There was a strange glimmer within them, like he was excited for doing some improvised mischief. This strange light wasn¡¯t there just a second ago.


    ¡°What do you mean? You mentioned that those good in Manipulation¡­ are hideous. Or something like that.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I did.¡± Lantor¡¯s voice was full of excitement and had a mischievous tone to it. ¡°But I¡¯ve got an idea.¡±


    Ehrir got a bad feeling in his gut faster than he could use any kind of sorcery.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t involve politely asking some well-known alchemist to give us his secret scrolls, does it?¡±


    ¡°Damn right it doesn¡¯t.¡±


    ***


    ¡°So this is the one?¡±


    ¡°Please, be quieter. We¡¯ve already got more than enough attention on ourselves¡±, whispered Lantor in response.


    The afternoon was approaching its end and the grey light enveloping Nalevas was darkening steadily. The two men advanced through the streets with a slow and unsure pace. They were following (or were trying to, at least) a lonely silhouette in green cloak. Around them the usual kind of people roaming Ale Bay were discussing and gasping while gazing wide-eyed at the Ashen Gaze¡¯s symbol on their chests. Ehrir was getting more and more annoyed at this, mainly because they could¡¯ve just taken the damned things off for this specific walk. Their cover could be easily ruined with all of this unwanted attention.


    ¡°What was his name?¡± asked Ehrir, this time in a far lower tone.


    Lantor shrugged his shoulders indifferently.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter. And besides, I don¡¯t know. But he¡¯s one of my friends¡¯ master, as I said.¡±


    ¡°And why are we following him?¡± Ehrir didn¡¯t really think it through after the man invited him for a stroll through the city streets. He didn¡¯t ask any questions, too.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Lantor shook his head unconfidently, but there was irony in his words. ¡°I¡¯d be damned if I know. Probably just for you to see his face or something like that.¡±


    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake¡­¡±


    The two of them continued walking and just exchanged glances from time to time. Ehrir still didn¡¯t know what exactly the two of them were doing, especially after he heard the man¡¯s words. Well, he got a quick explanation after a little while, when his bitterness deepened and his companion started giggling out loud. Lantor was essentially hoping to see his friend, the magician¡¯s apprentice (because he didn¡¯t have an idea where to search for him, of course) and he thought that a good method to do so was to go after his master. It wasn¡¯t much of a plan, but it was something, at least. Or so proclaimed Lantor.


    They didn¡¯t get results immediately. They didn¡¯t get any kind of result for a very long time, in fact. Almost a full hour was spent waiting on corners of different streets, making way through the crowds or going through side alleys. But it came to fruition in the end.


    Lantor¡¯s friend showed up in a small avenue near the harbor and engaged in a talk with his master. That gave the two men a chance to creep closer and Ehrir was finally able to see the face of the sorcerer they were chasing for all this time. He was no older than fifty five and even so looked quite young for his age. His hair was snow-white. His face had serious and stoic features and this, combined with his straight and tall posture, made him look cold and prideful. His apprentice was shorter in height, with softer-looking face, scarce beard and glimmering green eyes. He discussed something with the older magician and then started walking up the street. Lantor rushed towards him in that exact moment.


    Ehrir watched as the two chatted for a while before Lantor decided to introduce him.


    ¡°This is my friend Ehrir. Ehrir, this is Ahor.¡±


    The two men shook each other¡¯s hands.


    ¡°Pleased to meet you¡±, said Ahor with a warm voice and then turned to Lantor. ¡°So, you mentioned there is something you wanted to talk about?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± a deep sight came out of the man¡¯s mouth. ¡°Friend, I¡¯ll be straightforward.¡±


    By the end of the conversation Ahor¡¯s face has paled, turned to purple, green, blue and every other color known by Ehrir.

 Chapter 19 - The Tome of Transmogrification

    The red moon slowly advanced through the starry sky and its pale glow turned the world below it into a mosaic of light and darkness. Night had fallen long ago and chilling coldness permeated the air, together with unnaturally feeling silence. Ehrir wasn¡¯t used to Nalevas being this quiet and he found the lack of sounds (besides the winds¡¯ songs and his own breathing) quite disturbing.


    He was standing in the shadows of one of the buildings against the mansion¡¯s walls, crouching with his back against the cold stone and trying to remain as hidden as possible. There weren¡¯t many people to be hiding from, though, and yet he wasn¡¯t moving even a muscle. The ongoing gathering of mages made the manor¡¯s guards more alerted, not to mention their size being tripled. If they found him in this position, just lurking around and sticking to the shadows, Ostrias¡¯ emblem wouldn¡¯t be enough to save him from some unpleasant questions.


    The Undone One remained still almost two full hours and the urge to curse whatever cruel god made him be there became bigger and bigger with every minute. If he only knew that Ahor would take so much time¡­


    Unexpectedly, a familiar silhouette emerged from the thick veil of shadows surrounding Ehrir.


    ¡°You¡¯re here. Good¡±, whispered Ahor, his voice almost indistinguishable from the whistling wind.


    ¡°You could¡¯ve come a bit earlier, you know? My legs are numb¡±, said Ehrir. He tried to stay as calm as possible, but still gritted his teeth. He was annoyed with the man in front of him. ¡°Did you at least get the friggin¡¯ thing?¡±


    Ahor nodded, but not in a happy or optimistic kind of way.


    ¡°I did¡­ This won¡¯t end well, I¡¯m telling you.¡±


    ¡°It will. Have some hope. I¡¯ll return the book in no time¡± Ehrir tried to smile slightly, but his face was numb from the cold and it turned into an unsettling grimace. Ahor looked at it and shook his head.


    ¡°Gods, what have I gotten into?¡± he asked remorsefully. It was tough enough for Lantor to get him participating in their plan, but the man was still pretty unsure about it.


    ¡°Come on and give me the tome already.¡± Ehrir¡¯s tone was grave. He thought about threatening the sorcerer, but he couldn¡¯t know his true level of strength. Maybe carrying out the threat would be impossible to begin with.


    Ahor hesitated for a little bit before finally taking a small book out of the pouch on his waist. It was worn out and plain-looking, no more than a hundred pages long and with dark cover. There were some words upon it, but the Undone One couldn¡¯t read under the moon rays. He quickly grabbed the book and put it in his coat¡¯s pocket.


    ¡°Be gentle with it¡±, warned him Ahor with a grim voice. ¡°It has been through its fair share of hardships and is probably five times older than my master himself. It would probably collapse to a bunch of yellowy pages if you just slam it onto a table a bit too harshly.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep it in good condition¡±, promised Ehrir. He had the full intent to do so ¨C this decaying relic was more than damaged and fragile already.


    ¡°You better do it. The master will kill us both if he finds out I¡¯ve taken it and damaged it on top of that¡±, Ahor sighed and shrugged his shoulders as if trying to reconcile with the situation. ¡°I should go now. Take care.¡± After these words the apprentice turned around and sank into the shadows again without giving Ehrir a chance to say anything.


    The Undone One waited a bit, almost expecting the guards to show up at any moment. When he became sure everything was calm and quiet, he got up and approached the mansion via a roundabout way. The two armed men at the gate exchanged glances when they saw him under the gloomy light of their lanterns. Most of their suspicion was erased when they recognized the Ashen Gaze¡¯s symbol, but the curiosity still remained.


    ¡°Excuse my rudeness, sir¡­ But why do you come at such a late hour?¡± asked one of them.


    Ehrir tried to force a smile upon his face.


    ¡°I¡¯ve just been¡­ With a woman, you know?¡± he answered while trying to sound at least a little bit drunk.


    One of the guards grinned at his words.


    ¡°Good for you, sir. But before we can let you in, we need to know your name.¡±


    Ehrir quickly provided them with answers. The two men knew his name and let him pass peacefully.


    The mansion¡¯s gardens were illuminated by dozens of lanterns, torches, glowing crystals and a bunch of other magical lights. There were guards patrolling around, but otherwise it was quite calm and quiet. There was almost a surreal feeling to this sight.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Countless little noises filled the building itself, which was dark and cold. Someone was loudly sleeping in one room, prayers came from another and a quiet moaning ¨C from a third one. All of these could be heard from Ehrir¡¯s room alone. Once inside of it, the Undone One sat at the corner of his bed and took one of the shining crystals on the table besides it in his right hand. Then he got the book out.


    It was a rare manuscript about the secrets of Manipulation and specifically the branch of alchemy. Ahor had acquired it from his master, effectively stealing it while the older sorcerer was sleeping (just as Lantor¡¯s plan dictated). The book was pricy and probably very treasurable for the said master, to a degree that he wouldn¡¯t give it willingly to his apprentices. The words upon its cover were Werfaen ¡® Nabrinbor te vq-i Tarana, which meant ¡°Manipulation, alchemy and their secrets¡±, but Ahor also called it ?the tome of transmogrification¡±. Ehrir quickly flipped through it. It was written with a shaky, unsure kind of handwriting and had barely any kind of schemes and illustrations to it. Even the ones present were hardly understandable, cluttered and complex in their outlook. It was able to give Ehrir a headache in no time.


    But still he pushed on. He read through strange sentences, new and obscure terms, unknown words, bizarre diagrams and theories that seemed pretty crazy on first glance. His Emhaelic had become good enough to understand most things, but often whole paragraphs became a strange and indescribable blobs of text. The hours went by in a painful crawl and at the end he could barely keep his eyes open. When the first rays of light for the day kissed his room¡¯s windows, he was done with the book, but was still trying to grasp its contents fully. The will to just lie down and sleep for a solid twelve hours was overpowering him, but he had to do one more thing.


    Ehrir silently took out a silver coin out of his pocket. He held it between his fingers, played with it, looked at it¡­ And then he closed his eyes and stood still. He quickly had gotten accustomed to wearing gloves to hide the Brand and his bare hand¡¯s touch to the metal let a slight shiver run down his spine, for some reason.


    To change something to a condition to keep soul energy inside of it (or to transmogrify an item, as the book proclaimed) was a fairly complicated process. A sorcerer had to let his power flow through the chosen object and then picture it in his mind just the same as in reality¡­ but able to hold magic. Then he had to take another strand of his might and use it to Change the thing itself according to the picture created in his mind. Ehrir would have to do all these things simultaneously to achieve the wanted effect. It was tough to do ¨C both on paper and in reality.


    The Undone One focused and started following the tome¡¯s guidelines. It took him a lot of tries to get right just the first two steps. To imagine an object exactly the same as the one before him and yet different was a troublesome task. He felt a speck of happiness when he finally did it correctly. But the final goal remained far ahead.


    To let his energy both flow through the coin and yet to grab and use some of it proved to be seemingly impossible, but that changed after a painfully long half an hour. Then he had to use the right amount of might. And that meant a lot of it. Every time he tried he felt success steadily creeping closer and closer.


    Ehrir did it on what felt like his hundredth attempt. The strand of power, the energy of his soul flowing through the metal, the mental image that was almost burned in his brain in the dozens of previous tries¡­ It all somehow clicked and fell in harmony. And then¡­ the coin Changed.


    In an instant Ehrir¡¯s power going into the silver stopped evaporating. With a steady pace it entered it, filled it and then came back to the Undone One only to repeat this process as long as he held it between his fingers. And it continued to store some of the power when he put it down and left it in his pocket.


    He achieved it. It was probably something to be proud of, just not right now. Ehrir was tired.


    ¡°I guess the path to creating weapons that can shatter castle walls¡­ is open now, huh?¡± he uttered to himself mockingly before lying down and sinking into a deep slumber. It was a black void without dreams. And it was better that way ¨C he was too tired for any kind of visions, memories and such shit.


    ***


    Ehrir woke in the beginning of the next evening in a remarkably uncomfortable position, but with clear mind (and sweat all over himself). He had left the book on the table next to his bed, but the glowing crystal didn¡¯t have such luck. He smashed it into four pieces while rolling in his sleep. It was a definitely a waste (and a pain, considering he had to gather what was left of the damned thing and clear it up, not to mention the cuts in his clothes that the sharp pieces left). His bed was a mess, too, in addition to his clothes. But the coin was still holding his energy and that was the important thing.


    He got up and tried to make himself look decent enough for going outside. He saw the single sheet of parchment lying above his fireplace almost immediately. Its handwriting was elegant and curvy.


    ¡°Dear Ehrir,


    You were sleeping, so I didn¡¯t dare to wake you up. I saw your little book, though. It is quite a boring thing, to be honest. It isn¡¯t surprising ¨C the author is (or was, rather) uninteresting chap, although I probably shouldn¡¯t say bad things about him (he¡¯s been dead for more than a century now). Anyway, I don¡¯t know where you¡¯ve stolen it from, but I¡¯ll keep quiet about it. You can treat me to a bottle of good ale sometime instead of thanking me for it.


    I came to say one thing ¨C I can¡¯t wait anymore. I¡¯m thinking about ordering my forces to move out tomorrow. But I¡¯d like to discuss some things with you first.


    Sincerely,


    Ostrias Haelum, your humble master and also an extremely beautiful man


    P.S. ¨C I sound like an ass, I know. But I warned you about that already.¡±


    Ehrir made a confused expression. Asides from the book, the fact that the Ashen Gaze wanted to meet with him was unexpected, even without the irony that the letter reeked of. What could the elder mage want now?


    Well, there was only one way to find out.

 Chapter 20 - Flaming Swords and Ideas About Travelling

    The tea filled the porcelain cup to the brim. It gave off the soft, gentle smell of lilac. It was calming and Ehrir¡¯s mood was certainly lightened a little bit by the pleasant drink.


    Ostrias¡¯ room was bathed in the subtle blue glow of four crystal spheres. They were holding large amounts of magical light and yet it wasn¡¯t blinding nor even really bright. Greyish darkness still dwelled in the room¡¯s corners, although it was still brighter than the darkness reigning outside. The dancing flames in the fireplace casted a yellowy-red shine that was mirrored by the perfectly clean marble floor.


    ¡°What did you want to talk about, master?¡± asked the Undone One after taking a large sip from the teacup.


    His words were met by Ostrias¡¯ warm look.


    ¡°Well, my dear friend¡­ Will you believe me if I say that no woman wants to be with me and I need you to find one that¡¯s willing to?¡±


    ¡°No, master. I wouldn¡¯t¡±, answered Ehrir seriously.


    The Ashen Gaze giggled, his laughter echoing through the room.


    ¡°Well, you¡¯ve caught me¡±, he said after calming down. ¡°Still, I¡¯ve got an important things to discuss with you. Over the last weeks I¡¯ve grown to have respect for you. I still don¡¯t know if you deserve it, though.¡± He stopped for a second and watched the Undone One¡¯s confusion and annoyance with a relaxed smile. ¡°I know this sounds rude, but it¡¯s the truth. You have to justify it somehow. If you do it¡­ Your life will become much easier, trust me about that.¡±


    Ehrir swallowed. Ostrias¡¯ words were unexpected for him, but he tried his best to hide the surprise. The chance to earn the Ashen Gaze¡¯s good will was definitely precious. And yet¡­


    ¡°What do I have to do to justify your reverence, master?¡± he uttered slowly.


    ¡°Well, I haven¡¯t figured out all the details, but I have the general idea. All of the things you¡¯ll have to accomplish will happen once we reach the southern shores.¡± The ancient mage¡¯s voice became thicker, more serious and louder. ¡°You¡¯re familiar with the fact that there isn¡¯t much of a unified nation or country down south, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Well, that is the truth in most cases. I¡¯m thinking that Farnaraen and the other mage can seek shelter in one of the city states, as they are far from each other and the information between them doesn¡¯t spread too quickly. That, added to the fact that the cities are small but full with dozens of thousands of people, makes hiding in them easier than finding a bottle of alcohol in a meadery. But still, I believe that with the right strategy I¡¯ll the traces of Arleon and the Thirdborn.¡± Ostrias stopped talking and sipped from the tea. There wasn¡¯t only this kind of beverage in his cup, however ¨C the servant added more than generous amount of ale in it right before Ehrir¡¯s eyes just mere minutes ago. The mix was even more soothing than normal tea (according to the Ashen Gaze).


    ¡°Master¡­ What is my role in all of this that you talked about?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s actually simple, my young friend.¡± Ostrias smirked. ¡°I need a few of my people to go to a certain place¡­ It has a rather bad reputation. It¡¯s known as den of thieves, bandits, assassins and other lowlifes. Even the ruling class there is being bossed around by the masters among cutthroats and such. It definitely isn¡¯t a good place to live in, but for hiding¡­ Oh, it¡¯s perfect for that! The place is so full of beggars, poor people and travelers that Farnaraen and Arleon can pass by unnoticed by essentially everyone.¡±


    Ehrir slightly frowned. The place described by the master awakened a bad feeling in his gut.


    ¡°And what¡­ what¡¯s the name of this place?¡± he asked with the smoothest tone he could.


    Ostrias grinned, but not happily.


    ¡°Tarha-Nan, also known as the city of cutthroats.¡±


    The hairs upon the Undone One¡¯s neck stood up. The awful sensation inside of him suddenly deepened, although the place¡¯s name was unknown to him. There was this rough, strange feel to the term ¡°city of cutthroats¡± itself. And Tarha-Nan didn¡¯t sound warm and welcoming either.


    ¡°Will I¡­ be sent there, master?¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Ostrias nodded calmly.


    ¡°You¡¯ve hit the nail on the head. You¡¯ll go there ¨C together with your fellow disciples and that youngling Sevrian, if you want ¨C and a bunch of other talented individuals under my command. You¡¯ll have a comfortable trip, don¡¯t worry about that ¨C I¡¯ll contact the rulers of Tarha-Nan and you¡¯ll be given a place in the king¡¯s palace for sure. You¡¯ll also receive assistance from both the underworld and the official authorities in the search for the Thirdborn. Maybe you¡¯ll have to conceal your identities in front of the public, but that won¡¯t be much of a burden¡­¡±


    ¡°Master, be honest with me¡­ what are my chances of success in this? In finding Farnaraen, I mean?¡± Ehrir interrupted with a low tone, almost a whisper.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Ostrias shrugged his shoulders in a vague manner. ¡°Probably not too high. But even if you don¡¯t find him, I¡¯ll appreciate your efforts. If you put some in doing the mission, that is. But I¡¯ll know if you deserve my respect at the end of it, no matter the outcome.¡±


    Ehrir thought about the sorcerer¡¯s words for some time, while sipping from the lilac tea. Then he slowly nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll try to do as best as I can, master¡±, uttered he in a seemingly obedient tone and bowed his head. He wouldn¡¯t like visit some damned city reeked with criminals, but not agreeing with the Ashen Gaze wouldn¡¯t do anything good in the current situation.


    ¡°Good, my young friend¡± said Ostrias warmly and extended his hand towards the exit. ¡°You¡¯re free to go, if you want to. But I suggest you finish your tea first ¨C it¡¯s damn good and it¡¯d be a waste to just leave it like that.¡±


    Ehrir followed his master¡¯s advice thoroughly before leaving. There were one more thing he needed to do (except return the tome of transmogrification to Ahor) before going to sleep again.


    He was on his way to make the magical blade Lantor desired.


    ***


    ¡°So you succeeded?¡± uttered Lantor with a giant grin on his face. He was brimming with happiness and his voice alone lightened Ehrir¡¯s mood up. His life lacked such pure cheerfulness.


    ¡°I did, indeed. The book turned out to be useful. That said, I should return it to Ahor¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh, to hell with this! You can return it when you have the time to do so.¡± The man slammed his fist against the table, but not in an angry way.


    The two of them were in Lantor¡¯s room, illuminated only by the fireplace and a couple of scented candles near the bed. The sword was lying on the table. The turquoise beads on the dragon-shaped pommel shone under the flames¡¯ light in an almost supernatural manner.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Ehrir exhaled, trying to calm himself down. ¡°Shall I begin?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, yes. Go on. You¡¯re the expert here, after all.¡± Lantor tried to sound relaxed, but almost jumped out of his chair when the Undone One started touching the blade and executing the transmogrification.


    There were fails, of course. The sword wasn¡¯t a coin and it needed much more focus and energy for the process to take place, practically pushing Ehrir to his limits. And he needed to rest after every try.


    During those exact breaks he heard the blade¡¯s story. It had been forged by Lantor¡¯s uncle, a master blacksmith from the south, and it was one of the last swords created by the talented man that supplied the armor and weapons for Lantor¡¯s brother when the aforementioned became a knight around ten years ago. Then, in a tragic turn of events, the uncle¡¯s life was taken in a small, later contaminated plague that devastated the entire city he had lived in. It was an event to be forever remembered by the young man Lantor was at the time. The sword was one of his uncle¡¯s masterpieces and probably the last one at that. It was extremely precious to the man, but useless to him as a magician in its current state. And that¡¯s why he wanted to enchant it.


    Ehrir listened to the story quietly and emotionlessly. The things Lantor was talking about ¨C the loss of loved ones, their legacy and the importance of said legacy¡­ Those were things vague and distant to him. He never had a family in any sense of the word, after all. He couldn¡¯t feel sadness for a story he couldn¡¯t relate to, but the weakness in Lantor¡¯s voice when he spoke about his uncle made him sympathize with the man. It also gave him more motivation to do the transmogrification right.


    And still, he failed. Multiple times, at that. He got near to success much faster than with the coin, but that was only because he was familiar with the process now. Still, the blade was much more demanding when it came to both the imaginary shape and the energy needed. Success came at the end, but it had a price.


    Ehrir felt weakness in his knees and blood on his lips as soon as he was done with the blade. There was pulsating pain in the back of his skull for some time now and the Brand was aching too, but both places exploded with agony when he finished. He barely kept the scream from escaping his throat and fell on one knee.


    ¡°Ehrir¡­ Ehrir, are you okay?¡± Lantor put his hands on the Undone One¡¯s shoulders. He was clearly worried.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine¡±, mumbled Ehrir as he wiped the cold sweat off his forehead and cleared the blood on his mouth and chin. ¡°Magic is a tough bitch¡­ for sure.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, no doubts about that.¡± There was some relief in Lantor¡¯s words. ¡°Here, sit down. Was the¡­ did you succeed?¡±


    ¡°Go and see for yourself.¡± The Undone One got up (barely) and sank in the couch while gritting his teeth from the pain. He watched in silence as the mage in front of him held the sword in his hands and a cheery smile bloomed on his face.


    ¡°Well, the rest of this will be done by me. Rest, my friend. You well deserve it.¡± whispered Lantor. He stood there holding the blade for a while, intense and serious expression twisting his facial features. It was obvious that he used magic. Ehrir watched him practically half-asleep and at some point sank into complete slumber.


    When he woke up the man was standing right in front of him. His grin was almost from ear to ear, the sword resting in his right hand. Its blade was engulfed in blue flames.

 Chapter 21 - Southwards

    ¡°You should give it a name, friend.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t think of anything¡­ And besides ¨C why should I do it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ All magical weapons I¡¯ve heard about have names. And not just ordinary sounding ones, at that. Most are also in Emhaelic.¡±


    ¡°Fine, fine¡­ I¡¯ll think of something¡±, mumbled Ehrir. Lantor was starting to get on his nerves. Their argument was going on for a solid ten minutes now and the Undone One was already more willing to jump off into the sea and embrace its salty depths than to stay and listen to Lantor¡¯s crap.


    The two sorcerers were standing on the harbor and watched as hundreds of sailors prepared Ostrias¡¯ ships for sailing. The vessels bearing the Ashen Gaze¡¯s symbol were around sixty and formed a massive fleet. It¡¯d be definitely a sight to behold once all of them went out to the sea. The noises made by the dozens of working crews alone were enough to sound intimidating. During the last couple of days the weather became slightly better, with the blue color reigning in the sky again, only obscured by a little specks of grey and white here and there. The wind was strong too, making for a good seafaring conditions.


    It was well past noon, but the heat from almost a month ago was gone. Standing out in the open was almost pleasant now, in fact, let alone bearable. Ehrir looked down at the short sword hanging on his waist. One week had passed since he helped Lantor in creating his flaming claymore. The man had bought one cross-hilted sword for him as a reward for the transmogrification. It was the best blade around (if he could trust the words of the only blacksmith in Nalevas, which were¡­ questionable, more or less). Small, light, well-balanced and good for beginners in the art of swordsmanship, according to Lantor. The aforementioned had helped Ehrir enchant the weapon after Ehrir himself gave it magical capabilities. Now every time when the Undone One would let his energy flow through the clean, shiny steel, it activated a passive spell of sorts. Once in action, it covered the blade in immense frost that could damage the enemies¡¯ flesh just by touching it. It was quite powerful and did its job very well, although Ehrir still couldn¡¯t figure out how the passive magic really worked.


    Not a lot of events happened in the previous week. Except one. And it was that Ostrias finally gave the order for his men to move out, although he didn¡¯t do it on the day mentioned in his talk with Ehrir. The preparations were going for almost half a week now and were (fortunately) finally nearing their end.


    The Undone One quickly learned that most mages were carrying too much stuff when it came to travelling. He came to the harbor almost every afternoon and saw countless decaying scrolls and half-burned books, figurines of wood and stone, luxurious chairs and even marble statues of human in real size being loaded onto the ships. It was funny and somewhat annoying to watch at the same time. Most mages, though not as bad as Ehrir thought them to be previously, were a bunch of arrogant bastards. That much could be said by him without doubts.


    ¡°Which ship you¡¯ll be travelling with?¡± asked Lantor unexpectedly and curiously.


    It took some time for the Undone One to find Sevrian¡¯s galley amongst the tens of piers in the harbor. Then he pointed at it indifferently.


    ¡°Oh¡­ it¡¯s big. And good looking, too. I will myself sail in¡­¡± Lantor stopped his blabber for a second. ¡°Did you return the book to Ahor? I saw him yesterday and he looked quite worried. I didn¡¯t get the chance to talk to him, though.¡±


    ¡°I gave the tome to him in the beginning of the week¡­ Not every misfortune happening to people has something to do with me.¡±


    ¡°It sure doesn¡¯t.¡± Lantor giggled cheerfully. ¡°So¡­ Did you think up of the name for the sword?¡±


    ¡°Damn it!¡± Ehrir threw an angry glance at the man besides him. ¡°Why do you have to¡­¡± he inhaled loudly. ¡°You know what? Fine. From now it shall be called¡­ It shall be called¡­¡±


    Well, he hadn¡¯t thought about that. It took him some time to search his memory for good sounding term, preferably from some ancient legend. And in Emhaelic on top of it.


    ¡°Osvaar Libaen-§Ñ¡±, he said in the end. ¡°The frigid blade.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    A glimmer appeared in Lantor¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°That sounds so damned cool.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. And every stranger I meet will probably laugh at me if I tell him or her that I gave my sword a name, let alone one like this.¡±


    ¡°But they wouldn¡¯t understand. I, on the other hand¡­ Hell, I had a blacksmith in the family, I¡¯m almost an expert in such things.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, if you say so¡­¡±


    The two of them engaged in this kind of meaningless chatter until night ¨C always coming earlier and earlier in the last weeks ¨C fell. The sailing was planned to begin the next morning.


    ***


    ¡°They¡¯re looking at him like he¡¯s some kinda god!¡± exclaimed Nalia. ¡°Do ya¡¯ think¡­¡±


    ¡°Please, sis, shut up. You¡¯re making him look even more fabulous. His self-esteem will just rise more if he hears you¡±, interrupted Varhel in a low tone. ¡°Not that there is a chance for that to happen, though¡±, he added a bit louder.


    The three disciples of Sevrian were slowly following their master who was a few steps ahead. The streets of Ale Bay were cluttered with mages and apprentices of all kinds, not to mention the commoners who were trying to catch a glance at Ostrias at all cost. The Ashen Gaze was moving in the head of the wizards¡¯ procession with a confident look and a wide smile. He was wearing his best coat, covered in so much shiny silvery ornaments that the bright blue silk underneath was hardly visible at all. His hair was carefully combed backwards and his face was cleared from any kind of facial hair. That made Ehrir scratch his chin ¨C he had completely shaved his beard back in the first days at Nalevas, but a full month had passed since then and it had returned for a second round. When it came to it¡­ He had to shorten his hair too ¨C it had almost reached the middle of his back and was messy and unbraided. It was like he had an animal¡¯s mane upon his head.


    ¡°Quite uncomfortable¡­¡± he mumbled in a half-whisper.


    ¡°What exactly? I don¡¯t want to be mean, but¡­ I¡¯m the one who spends most of the time in an uncomfortable chair.¡± A cheerful voice sounded besides him.


    Well, Nalia definitely had heard Ehrir¡¯s quiet complaints.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing¡­¡± answered the Undone One.


    ¡°Yeah, right.¡±


    The three of them walked in silence until reaching the harbor. There the procession suddenly stopped. It was by Ostrias¡¯ command, of course ¨C nobody else in the whole Archipelago of Claws had the power to order around more than seventy sorcerers and their apprentices.


    ¡°Can you focus your attention on me, please?¡± the Ashen Gaze¡¯s voice boomed, empowered by magic and ringing like a bell. Every talk in the whole city probably stopped in the second those words were uttered.


    ¡°I guess not all of you can see me right now, so let me¡­ rise a little bit.¡± Ehrir could almost feel Ostrias¡¯ smile. And then he saw him slowly levitating further and further above the crowd, causing a wave of screams, gasps and even fainting amongst the common folk. The Undone One couldn¡¯t blame them ¨C it was quite a mesmerizing and unique scene to behold. It was probably a simple mix of Creation and Manipulation that just required a lot of energy, but still¡­ It made his jaw drop for a moment.


    Once risen at about thirty feet from the ground, the Ashen Gaze started talking in a slow and cheery manner.


    ¡°You¡¯re quite a sight from here, you know that?" he giggled. The laughter could most likely be heard from the opposite end of Nalevas. "Well, I''ll try to be as quick as possible. My visit here was rather short, but be sure that I won''t forget it. Your city certainly has a unique kind of charm that is simply unforgettable. Your mansion is awesome too." He stopped for a second. "When it comes to this... The building shall be returned to its former owner, which I believe is currently residing in one of the inns around here. Man, I don''t know your name, but I''m grateful that you let me borrow your house so... willingly. I know it''s probably tough to give your manor - and your power as a mayor, for that matter - to a complete stranger and I''m thankful for your trust in me. I''ve left a small present for you back in the mansion. As for the remainer of you... You''ve been very kind towards me and my people. You have my sincere thanks for this. Now take care."


    After these words Ostrias lowered himself down and began advancing towards his own vessel. The ship was not the biggest amongst those bearing his sign, but it definitely looked like the most luxurious and well-crafted one. It was painted in red and yellow with the top of the bow shaped in the form of a naked mermaid. The wooden figure was more beautiful than many women that Ehrir had seen during his life, although there were almost no nude ones in his experiences.


    Sevrian and his apprentices got on the galley quickly. Most ships were ready to set sail at this point and waited for the Ashen Gaze''s signal. When his vessel - the name "Muse of the Waves" was written on its side in bold golden paint - made its move, it was instantly followed by the rest of the fleet.


    "Master... What are we gonna do for all this time until we reach the south coast?", asked Nalia.


    Sevrian shrugged his shoulders.


    "I don''t know about you , but I have to teach our friend Ehrir the language of the south folk."


    The Undone One frowned. He''d forgotten about that. Emhaelic was already enough of a pain, and now this...


    "Well, I guess it has to be done", he said after a deep sigh. "Let''s get done with it quicker."

 Chapter 22 - Fog Above the Waves

    Learning languages was one hell of a task. Ehrir already knew this from studying Emhaelic, but the southern tongue just made him more confident about it. Albeit not too different from the one spoken up north, it was definitely confusing to learn similar words bound by different grammar. After two weeks of torturing himself with scrolls and yellowy parchments, he was able to speak it barely¡­ It was still thanks to Sevrian, mostly ¨C the books, even full of centuries-old wisdom, couldn¡¯t explain a damned thing properly without trailing off into long, confusing paragraphs full of grotesque-sounding terms.


    The first week on the ship was essentially filled with learning that language, along with practicing magic. When it came to sorcery, the Undone One showed steady progress outside Manipulation, which made him relatively happy. The ability to control his soul energy was growing and along with it his overall capabilities, too. He also began exercising with the sword. He couldn¡¯t get far without a proper teacher in that field, though, and stopped doing it soon ¨C the numerous hours of reading, learning and making ice and flames emerge from his fingers were tiring enough by themselves.


    Ostrias¡¯ fleet was moving with remarkable speed and the relatively pleasant weather just helped them be faster. The ships were indeed graceful and elegant while riding the waves and Ehrir often spent his free time just sitting on the galley¡¯s handrails and looking at them. The Ashen Gaze¡¯s vessel ¨C ¡°Muse of the Waves¡± ¨C was undoubtedly the pearl of the whole fleet, but he rarely had the chance to catch a glimpse of it.


    Life on the galley was as boring as when they sailed towards the Archipelago of Claws. The crew had recovered back to its original numbers and the damaged parts were even more reinforced. It was hard to tell that the ship participated in a battle just a month ago. But there were still the shadows of sadness and loss lurking in the sailor¡¯s eyes from time to time.


    Winter was already stepping in quietly and even going southwards couldn¡¯t shake off the coldness that began reigning over the mornings and late afternoons. The waves were growing bigger and the sun seemed more distanced and somehow colder than before. These changes were barely sensible, but the boredom drove Ehrir to notice even the little changes in his surroundings. Well, they were small at first, anyway. Overall, the voyage was turning out to be boring and monotonous.


    And then, at the end of the first week since they left Nalevas, the fog came and things¡­ changed.


    ***


    It first appeared after sunset and for just a couple of minutes. It was eerie and hardly visible at first, but on the second day it was thicker and had a strange, almost ethereal vibe to it. It also remained longer ¨C for almost half an hour.


    On the third day it showed up before sunrise and didn¡¯t lift for almost two hours. It was the same in the evening. It was dense to the point that the other ships were hardly recognizable and it was unnerving for everyone on the galley.


    ¡°There is something wrong to it¡±, murmured Sevrian as he stared in it on the third evening. ¡°But I can¡¯t quite tell what.¡± His dark expression made Ehrir shiver a little. Varhel was also looking grim, but not Nalia, of course.


    ¡°What can be scary about a little bit of fog?¡± she asked afterwards. ¡°There¡¯s plenty of it in my homelands. And none of it has ever bitten anyone.¡±


    ¡°Well, sis, you¡¯re right¡±, said Varhel quietly while shaking his head. ¡°But this¡­ it¡¯s different, somehow. It just doesn¡¯t seem natural to me.¡±


    Nalia didn¡¯t answer, but she frowned a little.


    The dawn of the fourth day since the veil of mist appeared wasn¡¯t much of a dawn in any sense. The gloomy greyness engulfed everything and the numerous lights on board were barely able to fend it off from the deck. The two nearest ships were just dark silhouettes in the fog and the others were practically invisible. The commands coming from the Ashen Gaze¡¯s vessel were given through the empowered voices of sorcerers. That method ensured that the ships aren¡¯t too far from each other, too. Sevrian wasn¡¯t willing to carry out that task, however, so Varhel did it instead.


    The sight of mist covering everything was quite unpleasant and created a heavy feeling within the Undone One. It definitely wasn¡¯t cheering the sailors up, too ¨C they were dark and silent, although vague tales about gigantic sea beast and ghost ships lurking on the open seas were brought up regularly in low tones.


    Ehrir could give a lot of things to get some soothing words from somebody on that day. He could always go to Nalia, of course, but she would tell him to relax only after calling him a coward or laughing at him. Sevrian, on the other hand, was not looking very cheery himself. Whatever calming phrase the old man could think of would probably sound like a funeral rite coming from his lips.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Finding himself without a real job, Ehrir just resorted to reading the Sorcerer¡¯s Book that his master kindly lend him. He was already familiar with the majority of the tome¡¯s content, but the rich illustrations and well-written text were still a delight for the eye (especially after the tome of transmogrification¡¯s ugliness) and he just gazed at them for quite some time.


    The day neared its end quietly and unnoticeably. Ever since the morning it was getting damper and colder and at the hour of sunset (relatively speaking, as any hint of the sun was lost in the mist¡¯s depths) it began raining. It was a frigid kind of rain, even furthering the feeling of anxiety within everyone. It lowered the Undone One¡¯s mood significantly and even the considerable amounts of wine he drank after dinner couldn¡¯t rise it back up. His slumber that night wasn¡¯t calm and his dreams were haunted by undefined, nightmarish things. Of the kind that drank the blood of innocent maidens and gnawed on their bones afterwards, probably.


    ***


    Ehrir was awoken by the sounds of screams. They were coming from the deck above him and sounded primal and full of suffering.


    ¡°The day could¡¯ve began in a better way¡±, he thought while jumping from his bed and starting to put his coat and boots on. He left the cabin ¨C engulfed in twilight and coldness, but seeming like a safe haven compared to the mysterious upper part of the galley. He still didn¡¯t know what was happening there¡­ but it couldn¡¯t be good, could it?


    The deck was lit by the usual lanterns and torches, but blackness reigned beyond the handrails and within it the mist still twisted and whirled. It was the middle of the night, no doubts. The only people here were the usual sailors and Varhel, waiting if the need for communication between the ships arose. The other vessels in the fleet were just a miniscule blobs of pale light in the overwhelming darkness.


    But something wasn¡¯t right. The oars weren¡¯t moving and all of the sailors were gathered in the deck¡¯s center. Varhel stood in front of them, not moving and with a serious expression put on. He resembled some guardian statue. His face lightened up a little upon seeing Ehrir.


    ¡°Good, you¡¯re here¡±, he uttered intensely. ¡°I hope the master will be awaken by that scream too. We¡¯ll need as much help as possible in this¡­ situation.¡±¡±


    ¡°What¡­ What the hell happened?¡±


    As Ehrir was saying that another scream sounded from somewhere far away. One of the flickering lights crawling through the night stopped.


    ¡°Oh, another¡­ So it¡¯s not just us. Damn it¡±, mumbled Varhel in a grim manner. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to exactly explain it, but¡­¡±


    ¡°The fog swallowed Ronh!¡± One of the sailors interrupted, his face twisted from extreme terror. ¡°It¡­ It just rose, became thicker and¡­ he was gone after that!¡± His voice almost turned into a cry of fear.


    The Undone One felt a cold shiver down his spine. The mist had¡­ swallowed someone? What could that mean?


    ¡°It¡¯s true¡±, said Varhel as if reading his mind. ¡°I can¡¯t describe it properly¡­ One moment he was just there, but the next he wasn¡¯t. It¡¯s definitely magic. It has to be. But¡­ I don¡¯t know how this is possible. I haven¡¯t seen anything like it in my whole life.¡±


    ¡°What is all of this noise for, young men?¡± Just at that time Sevrian¡¯s voice echoed from the deckhouse.


    Ehrir felt an instant relief. The old man was probably able to defend the ship against¡­ whatever was creeping around in the night.


    Varhel rushed to explain the situation to his master, alongside with nearly a dozen of terrified seamen. There wasn¡¯t too much to tell, but the numerous narrators (to say the least) made it sound complex and even scarier than it already was. The old man¡¯s face twisted into a strange grimace, then it grew more serious and even paled at the end. While all of this lasted screams could be heard from the distance in all directions. The ships were losing sailors and stopping one by one.


    ¡°I have no idea what this¡­ thing might be¡±, Sevrian managed to utter after hearing all the details. ¡°Perhaps master Ostrias will be able to tell us more about it, but we have no way to¡­¡±


    His talk was interrupted by words sounding with an inhuman might from somewhere ahead of the galley¡¯s bow. It was familiar and made the Undone One at least a bit more relaxed.


    ¡°To all the sailors and men in this fleet! Stop moving your ships right now. Try to stay in the light and avoid getting near those damned handrails. Hide in the lower decks, if possible. As for the mages and the apprentices¡­ You better stay on the deck. I¡¯ll sweep by every ship and instruct you on what to do. Relax, it won¡¯t hurt sorcerers. Probably.¡±


    ¡°Well, this isn¡¯t much of a relief¡±, thought Ehrir bitterly. But still, he stood where he was. The sailors abandoned the deck one by one, but Varhel, Sevrian and him remained. Soon Nalia showed up, too. The three of them explained to her what had happened quietly. Even her face became grim after hearing about it.


    It took nearly half an hour of waiting before the Ashen Gaze ¨C flying from vessel to vessel with a ball of bright light in his right hand ¨C reached their galley. The flight would be beautiful in another time and place. Now¡­ Ehrir just hoped for him to come faster.


    When he finally arrived, there wasn¡¯t a smile on his face nor a cheery glimmer in his eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be short¡±, he began. ¡°What we¡¯re up against is an unusual thing ¨C a remnant of the non-human era, probably. The mist is part of his¡­ body, so to speak. His true being is probably underwater and uses the fog to catch and eat its victims. Its power is immense.¡±


    After every word the mood visibly dropped.


    ¡°Let me be clear¡±, Ostrias added. ¡°I can only give you means to defend yourselves from it, if the need to do so arises. But you don¡¯t have a chance against it. Not even a speck of chance. I¡¯m the only one capable of fighting against it.¡±

 Chapter 23 - The Lurking Ethereal

    The frail, delicate line that created the protective ring looked like it could be easily destroyed by the wind alone. It was hard for Ehrir to think that this could protect him efficiently against the being that created the fog¡­ The Ethereal.


    Ostrias revealed the creature¡¯s name right before leaving their ship. It was difficult to even imagine it ¨C lying somewhere beneath the sea¡¯s surface and creating mist above it. And using it as parts of his body on top of that¡­ How could this even function? It was also alive since the non-human era, long lost in the sands of time... Ehrir fended off these thoughts from his head and focused his attention on the surroundings.


    Sevrian and his apprentices were the only people on the deck. They were surrounded by a circle of light, no thicker than a strand of hair and floating at the level of their waists. It was maintained by the old man and was actually a strange mix between Creation, Conquering and Control. The fog didn¡¯t dare to even touch it. Ostrias mentioned that while showing the spell to Sevrian and it actually worked just as intended. To keep it up was taxing for the old man, though. He was already sweating because of the tiresome task.


    ¡°Why are we standing here in the first place?¡± asked Nalia unexpectedly. ¡®Bitter¡¯ would be too weak of a term to describe her tone.


    ¡°Master Ostrias ordered so¡­¡±


    ¡°But why did he do it, bro?¡± The young woman¡¯s annoyance was quickly turning into anger. ¡°He said that we stand no chance against this thing. And if so¡­ Why must we just hang out here? We can only defend ourselves, but that is possible inside the galley, too.¡±


    ¡°Well, you can go inside if¡­¡±


    ¡°I know the reason why, younglings¡±, interrupted Sevrian quietly, almost whispering. He sounded tired. ¡°This¡­ Ethereal. I have read a bit about creatures such as him back in my youth. I don''t remember much. However¡­ I know for sure that it doesn¡¯t have the ability to see, smell or hear. It can¡¯t sense the outside world with anything besides its own touch. If it weren¡¯t for us and the circle being here¡­ It probably wouldn¡¯t hesitate to try and eat a whole chunk of the ship sooner or later.¡±


    His words made a cold shiver ¨C probably the thirtieth for the night ¨C run down Ehrir¡¯s spine. To think that this measly line of light was the primary reason that the galley was whole¡­ well, it was tough to believe at first. Well, not so much after everything he had learned lately.


    As the four of them stood still, Ostrias flew by again and again, from vessel to vessel, barking out orders in a thunderous voice. He was still preparing to fight with the Ethereal, but the Undone One had no idea how this could be done. Fighting mist ¨C even living, sentient one at that ¨C was surely impossible, wasn¡¯t it?


    Well, it quickly turned out that the Ashen Gaze¡¯s plan was not to fight with the part of the creature above the water.


    ¡°Hear me! All of the sorcerers standing in the protective circles ¨C move to your vessel¡¯s handrails. Then all of the ones that don¡¯t maintain the defenses must use all of your destructive powers on the sea itself. My friends and subordinates¡­ I¡¯ll put it simply ¨C attack the water with whatever you¡¯ve got!¡±


    Ehrir quickly obeyed the order, but the young woman besides him was faster.


    ¡°Well, this will be interesting¡­¡± murmured Nalia before heading for the handrails, followed by her fellow disciples and master. A smirk glowed on her face.


    Ehrir knew tthat Ostrias aimed to lure out the Ethereal through damaging it. The water was as black as ink and the sorcerers'' precision was definitely very bad, but the Undone One couldn¡¯t think of a better strategy himself.


    He obeyed the Ashen Gaze¡¯s orders without hesitation. Small lightnings, sharp pieces of ice and even tiny energy beams emerged from his fingers and met with the sea below. Varhel and Nalia accompanied him in this deed, although the young man¡¯s attacks were ten times more powerful than anything created by his sister or Ehrir. More than two hundred other disciples and magicians were doing the same as them and soon the water around the ships turned into a chaotic mess, full of stones, magically created weapons and other things. It was even boiling or freezing at some places. If this couldn¡¯t make the Ethereal move a little, Ehrir didn¡¯t know what could.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    During all of this mad attacking Ostrias was silently levitating in the sky above his fleet. The Undone One wasn''t sure about what the ancient sorcerer was doing, but focusing his might was his first guess. Maybe today the Ashen Gaze¡¯s famed powers would finally be shown¡­


    ¡°Well, we¡¯re obviously doing something¡­ There¡¯s no sign of this damned mist anymore¡±, exclaimed Nalia cheery.


    She was right ¨C the air was clear now, for the first time in more than a day and a half. It was definitely relieving. The Undone One inhaled sharply and smiled. The feeling of heaviness that haunted his every breath was gone.


    But as the fog left, something of immense size started moving in the black depths of the Cargaen Sea.


    ***


    ¡°We¡¯re not like you, young ones. We shouldn¡¯t have been here in the first place. Time somehow missed us. And here we are ¨C the final remnants of a forgotten past. And some day you may meet something from our age that¡¯s not as friendly as we are. And believe me ¨C if you survive, you¡¯ll have a splendid tale for your children and grandchildren. And probably a scar or a missing arm, too.¡±


    As much as Ostrias was trying to clear his mind, those words wouldn¡¯t leave him. They were uttered by the leader of one of the last non-human magic orders almost three centuries ago when the Ashen Gaze was still at the frail age of one hundred. The order itself was no more and all of its members were already dead. That wasn¡¯t important. But those words¡­


    During his four and a half centuries of life he hadn¡¯t ever encountered a living Ethereal. Everyone he knew thought that they were extinct ¨C the world had changed too much for such a bizarre species to survive¡­ It was speculated that they the Ethereals were even able to use magic in a way and Ostrias was almost positive of it now. The wise elders of the Inner Fantasy would kneel before him just for a chance to take a look at the creature¡¯s bones once he got back¡­


    He cussed quietly. His dreams were getting ahead of him again, weren¡¯t they? He had to defeat the thing first¡­ And that wouldn¡¯t be easy, probably.


    He focused on clearing his mind again, but the words returned. The one who said them was one of the last living fey in the whole world. With a face beautiful but somehow alien, long hair with the color of turquoise, seven fingers on every hand and a pair of huge wings akin to that of a butterfly, he was pretty and yet almost grotesque in his appearance. His might in sorcery could rival and probably exceed that of every human magician alive at the time. He met his doom, eventually, but Ostrias didn¡¯t care about that. The Ethereal was coming from the same age as the fey, the ratkin, the Unliving¡­ and the goliaths, even. It couldn¡¯t be weak, in any case. But he¡­


    As the thoughts flashed inside of his skull he heard a strange sound from below. He looked down and saw several large things, vaguely reminiscent of tentacles, but clearly having a bone structure (and a large claw on their tips). They were moving around the ships and madly trying to damage them. They were large - the smallest was no less than five meters in height.


    Ostrias acted on instinct. The decades of wars had taught him to not think in the case of immediate danger. He flew straight for one of the Ethereal¡¯s¡­ arms, probably. He got a steady hold of his soul energy in the matter of a second and two blades of white fire emerged out of his palms. One precise, powerful swing later and the tentacle was separated from its owner and only a burned, horizontally slashed piece of twisting flesh remained.


    The sea suddenly started trembling a little and a powerful roar sounded from beneath it. Although muted by the water, it still carried enough strength to make Ostrias tremble for a moment. And not a lot of things in the world could make the Ashen Gaze tremble even for a split second.


    And yet he didn''t hesitate and continued to cut the Ethereal''s limbs one by one, enraging it even more in the process. The physical aspect of the fight was bearable for now, but the monster consistently bombarded his consciousness with some animalistic form of Control. It was using magic. It was using damned magic! That fact was both amazing and terrifying for Ostrias.


    But the Ethereal''s sorcery - undoubtedly unconsciously done and very unfocused - was easily resisted him. Soon the sorcerer slew all of the tentacles. Screams of happiness came from the ships.


    And then the creature itself appeared.


    Ostrias gazed for a while in the deformed mass of muscles, defunct, blind eyes and wide gaping mouths. Then he smiled in his usual confident manner, although fear had stirred up inside of him.


    "Bring it on, fucker", he said as lightning covered his body from head to toe.

 Character Art

    So, I''m done with the drawings of the characters that I promised do to in the latest chapter. They aren''t spectacular (and are rather small in size), but I hope you like them.


    The first one to be shown is Ostrias (he''s actually the first character whose POV I''ve used besides Ehrir''s as of late). Here he is.


    It''s undoubtedly a rough piece of work and I''ve messed his ears and eyes badly, but otherwise this matches his image in my imagination (except for the lips - they should be far less deformed than in my drawing). By the way, the borders and inscriptions are added via a computer. Only the inked sketch is handrawn here (he looks pretty good for his age, eh?).


    Next up is Varhel.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    So, I think this a bit better than the last one (at least in terms of proportions). I can''t draw damaged skin, though, so the scars on his neck turned out to be strange.


    Next on the chopping block is Nalia.I can''t draw females. Consider yourselves warned.


    She''s without her wheelchair and usual grin here. Also she appears to be suffering of crossed eyes and that shouldn''t be the case. Also I think that this is the first time I''ve shown hers and Varhel''s last names (correct if I''m wrong, please).


    And now for our favourite MC - the good ol'' Ehrir. Lo and behold!


    The strands of hair covering his eye are added for a dramatic effect, more or less. One of his hands is badly screwed, too. I like it otherwise. This is the current appearance of Ehrir (except for the lack of a shirt under his coat and those two black rings - they are yet to appear).


    That is all for now, folks. I hope you''ve liked this scribbles I''ve delivered to ''ya!

 Chapter 24 - The Might of Ostrias Haelum

    Ehrir watched in both amazement and horror as the Ethereal emerged from the waves. Its limbs were dangerous and grotesque enough, but the body¡­ That was another deal. With a roughly spherical shape, it twisted and turned, revealing at least a dozen blind, unmoving white eyes and four mouths with three rows of sharp teeth. A full grown man could be easily fit between the monster¡¯s jaws.


    And still, Ostrias jumped at it without a second thought. This man¡­ His bravery, confidence and power were all astonishing. If the Inner Fantasy was inhabited by a lot of people like him, Ehrir could barely imagine what kind of society blossomed there.


    The Undone One ¨C and more than two hundred other souls ¨C watched as the battle between their master and a relic from a time long since gone unveiled.


    ***


    ¡°This is one tough bastard¡±, Ostrias thought as he stopped the Ethereal¡¯s attack (delivered by one of his last remaining tentacles) by turning his right hand into stone and blocking with it. It was simple and quick use of Manipulation that he learned a long time ago. He overcame the barrier that stopped most wizards from turning soft things into hard ones when he was forty, in fact.


    The Ethereal proved to be an easy target. But no matter how many times he attacked him with lightning, flames, ice spikes or even energy blasts¡­ It proved to be useless. It was as if the thing¡¯s body could be barely injured at all, in sharp contrast to its limbs. Only powerful slashes left wounds on it, but they didn¡¯t slow the creature down. Quite the opposite, in fact ¨C it just became more aggressive and faster in its movements. Its magic assaults turned fiercer, too ¨C wave after wave of powerful Control tried to strike the Ashen Gaze. He still resisted it, but it was getting harder and harder. If the Ethereal succeeded he would probably become a mere marionette for its primitive mind. He couldn''t allow that.


    And so he stormed the thing again and again, leaving wounds from which no blood gushed out. When he reassured himself that this wasn''t working, he tried to use Conquering, but was met with an unpleasant surprise.


    Ostrias couldn¡¯t reach the mind of the damned thing no matter how hard he tried. He couldn''t even begin to guess why. It was like it was protecting itself via sorcery, but that kind of spell was far too advanced for this¡­ thing. Its might alone was definitely not enough to nullify the Ashen Gaze¡¯s focused, powerful blasts of Conquering. Could the Ethereal possess the intelligence required for using magic defenses?


    ¡°No, that can¡¯t be right¡±, whispered he after finally cutting off the last of the creature¡¯s limbs. It responded by roaring again. The power and intensity of the waves of Control attempting to enter his skull increased two or three times. ¡°Damn it¡­ Let¡¯s just finish this, shall we?¡±


    While uttering these words, fire covered Ostrias¡¯ fists. But those were no ordinary flames ¨C they came from techniques of the Inner Fantasy''s sorcerers and were hotter than a newborn star. Or so said the scrolls, at least. He unleashed them immediately, letting them form two giant snakes of white fire.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Stop it already, small one. You can actually hurt me with this.¡±


    The voice came as the waves of Control stopped and some unknown force gripped the Ashen Gaze. He realized what it was. The Ethereal ¨C that seemingly mindless, feral being ¨C had used Manipulation to turn most of the air around him into an invisible, solid mass. And on that of that¡­ It was speaking to him, wasn¡¯t it?


    ¡°Are you¡­ intelligent?¡± he infused his thoughts with a specific, peculiar type of Conquering ¨C one that could allow telepathy to take place.


    ¡°Yes. And I¡¯m also angry.¡± The Ethereal¡¯s thoughts could barely take shape that was understandable for mere humans. It was also somehow communicating with Ostrias in a language familiar to the sorcerer.


    ¡°Why are you attacking me, small one? Not that you are doing much ¨C my limbs will regrow soon and the wounds will close. But still¡­ I am curious.¡± The Ashen Gaze could sense the feelings within the creature ¨C quiet anger that smoldered and yet was brighter than a star, and also a sense of curiosity beyond that was indescribable. The consciousness of the Ethereal was very, very different from that of a human. More advanced, even.


    ¡°You¡­ Ate some of my people. With your damned mist.¡±


    ¡°You mean that I satisfied my hunger with your fellow lesser beings and now you¡¯re condemning me for it? Don¡¯t make me giggle.¡± The creature roared in a manner distinct from every laughter Ostrias had heard in his life.


    The Ashen Gaze felt insulted. ¡°Lesser beings¡±? It was understandable ¨C the Ethereal was from another time and was still far superior to a normal human in every sense of the word. Especially with that monstrous, gigantic intellect lurking in its grotesque body. But to dismiss mankind with such steady tone... Ostrias gritted his teeth, but tried to keep his calmness.


    ¡°You think you can beat me? My subordinates will realize what is happening and will annihilate you every second now.¡±


    ¡°Every second? Think again, small one. Look around.¡±


    The thing gave Ostrias the chance to move his head. And the Ashen Gaze saw it. Every wizard standing on his ships had his eyes closed and was seemingly unconscious.


    ¡°I put them out, small one. Unlike you, they have no chance of resisting. You are¡­ talented, in a sense. Be at ease, I didn¡¯t kill them. You¡­ make me wonder, truly. You want to know why?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ But I don¡¯t have a choice, do I?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you don¡¯t.¡± The Ethereal laughed again. The hair on the Ashen Gaze¡¯s neck almost stood up. ¡°I see your concept of moral to be ridiculous, simply said. But yet I think it''s interesting. And now I¡¯m going to have a short talk with you. It won¡¯t be too complex and I¡¯ll try to be¡­ What¡¯s the word you simpletons use for it? Ah, yes. I¡¯ll try to be friendly.¡±


    Ostrias sighed silently. During all the talking he tried to breach the Ethereal¡¯s magical barriers, but to no avail.


    ¡°And what will we talk about?¡± he thought in the end.


    If the creature could smile, it probably would at that very moment. He felt its happiness, at least, although it was otherworldly.


    "I am thinking about eating you and half your people before dawn and savoring the others for later. Make me change my mind."

 Chapter 25 - Negotiations and Tales From the Past

    ¡°Weren¡¯t the people you already swallowed more than enough?¡±


    ¡°When you¡¯re hungry, do you eat just two measly bites before you¡¯re full, small one?¡±


    Ostrias would scream and curse if he could. A few minutes of meaningless arguing with the Ethereal had already passed, but the creature was more than unimpressed by his words so far. It barely understood the logic behind the Ashen Gaze¡¯s arguments, easily found their flaws and quickly demolished them completely. It was pretty clever for a big ball of mouths and eyes. And that only made the sorcerer more and more nervous. The moment when it would simply eat him was approaching and he couldn¡¯t even defend his position as a creature not worth devouring.


    ¡°Why do you have to use us as food? I bet there are a lot of good meals out in the sea.¡±


    ¡°You may think that you¡¯re more advanced than the underwater creatures, but I¡¯ve met dolphins whose intelligence and capabilities dwarf yours. And besides, you¡¯re tasty.¡±


    Well, that went wrong pretty quickly. And thus he met yet another dead end in his reasoning.


    The night¡¯s cold embrace engulfed him from all sides. The wind was frigid and his coat couldn¡¯t protect him from it at all. The environment took a far bigger place in his mind than it should and obscured his line of thought. He tried to clear his mind, but to no avail. He was somehow more¡­ sensitive than usual. Was that the Ethereal¡¯s work? Or was he just too terrified?


    He was barely able to try and say something rational anymore, so he just spat the things coming to his mind one after the other.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you see that we¡¯re conscious? We have intellect, emotions and so on¡­ It wouldn¡¯t be right to just eat us.¡±


    ¡°Why do you think so? Would you stop eating some kind of animal if it started talking in your tongue?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Of course!¡±


    ¡°That is a type of reasoning that¡¯s very strange to me. And also unacceptable, frankly said. I am able to communicate with half this sea, but all of the beings here are lesser, you included. And therefore they are food.¡±


    Ostrias gritted his teeth. All of this was getting him nowhere. Or getting him closer and closer to the Ethereal¡¯s stomach, rather. Everything he tried turned out to be useless ¨C the thing in front of him was just too alien and different to have the same concept of moral as humans. He was all out of ideas and just stood there, trapped by the invisible mass. Meanwhile, the Ethereal was regenerating silently. Most of its tentacles had already began to grow anew and its wounds were closing with a rapid speed. Its healing capabilities were mind-boggling.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    The Ashen Gaze closed his eyes. His face twisted into a dark, thoughtful expression. He could¡­ He could¡­ Hell, what could he do to make the damned thing let him go in peace? Nothing came to his mind. And then a small idea emerged surprisingly. Could it work? There was only one way to determine that.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to¡­ tell you a story. It may convince you to let me and my people go. It may not. But it¡¯ll take some time.¡±


    ¡°I was here millennia before you, small one. I¡¯ll be here for millennia after you, too. A few hours don¡¯t matter. Go on.¡±


    Ostrias began his tale ¨C the story of his youth ¨C with a steady, confident tone (or at least tried to give his thoughts such a vibe). He went on for a couple of hours and spoke to the Ethereal about his birth and childhood. About the Haelum family of wizards. About the first love of his life. About his first heartbreak. About the first day he met with death face to face. About why he came to be known as ¡®the last Haelum¡¯. And finally¡­ he told him about the Ascension Crisis.


    ¡°These emotions inside of you¡­ They are unique, undoubtedly, at least for me. Especially that feeling you attach to your sexual partners¡­ Love, was it? Oh, how steadily it smolders inside you even after all these years¡­ And what a splendid tale you¡¯ve told me! Not a single sea creature has told me one like it during all the time I¡¯ve inhabited this waters. Tell me more. Tell me the rest of your life!¡±


    The Ashen Gaze followed the creature¡¯s command without trying to resist. After all, that was his only chance for him and his subordinates to live. To trample on his pride and reveal his life¡¯s most personal details before the Ethereal was too small of a price to let this opportunity slip by. And he did it without a second thought.


    When he was finished, the sun was already rising and bathing the world in a stream of warm golden light. Every war, every love affair, every world-shaking event he had gone through and every death of a loved one¡­ He laid everything bare before the Ethereal¡¯s unseeing, but ever so persistent gaze.


    ¡°I see¡­ I see! That was interesting, to say the least.¡± Ostrias could easily sense the inhuman joy and calmness that had taken over the Ethereal¡¯s whole being. ¡°I don¡¯t hear such a story every day¡­ Very well, small one. I¡¯ll let you go and satisfy my hunger with something else.¡±


    Relief ran through Ostrias¡¯ body. So his struggles to argue with this thing weren¡¯t for naught¡­ He imbued his thoughts with Control, attempting to ask the beast to release him. At that moment the Ethereal started to use telepathy again.


    ¡°I won¡¯t just release you, though. I¡¯m still somewhat hungry. Name one of your kind upon these things you call ships and then direct me to them. Then¡­ I¡¯ll have a small, but tasty meal. And you¡¯ll earn your freedom.¡±


    The blood in the sorcerer¡¯s veins froze in an instant. To eat¡­ one of his own? After all he did? After¡­ Rage rose inside of him, but he got a hold of himself. Even if he fought with the creature again, it would bear no result. He had¡­ He had to do it. He picked out a young man ¨C the apprentice of one of the sorcerers under him and also the brother of a girl he once slept with. He could barely remember his name, but knew the ship he was on. He didn¡¯t (and couldn¡¯t) watch while the Ethereal¡­ ate him. But it wasn¡¯t the first death that¡¯d weigh on his soul and mind.

 Chapter 26 - Towards the Coasts

    Ehrir didn¡¯t remember how he fell unconscious, but the moment of awakening remained bright and detailed in his mind. The night had miraculously shifted into day and the coldness of the night air had begun to slowly fade away. He was still standing on the exact same place on the galley¡¯s deck with Nalia and Varhel beside him. Ehrir¡¯s legs and back felt sore and his face was numb from the frigidness.


    ¡°What¡­ What happened?¡± Nalia¡¯s voice sounded next to him. Her question was followed by a fierce curse.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡±, uttered Ehrir. Varhel remained silent, but was visibly confused and shrugged his shoulders. The disciples threw their glances towards the old man, but Sevrian just shook his head. He couldn¡¯t help them out either.


    Ehrir looked for Ostrias instinctively. And then he noticed the absence of the Ethereal. There wasn¡¯t even a sign of the creature on the sea¡¯s surface. But the Ashen Gaze was there, levitating above the open space where his battle with the strange being took place. He was looking at the ships with a serious, but relieved expression. The Undone One traced his gaze and quickly discovered that he and the other sorcerers on the galley weren¡¯t the only one unconscious. Many more were just waking up and had confusion written all over their faces. Ostrias didn¡¯t wait for them all to notice him and soon began speaking in a thunderous voice.


    ¡°Hear me, men.¡± He waited for a bit before everyone round was staring at him. ¡°You¡¯ve been attacked by the Ethereal¡­ with magic. It managed to leave all of you unconscious. It even kept you from falling down with its powers. But that doesn¡¯t matter now. I¡­ I¡¯ve managed to fend off the beast and grant us the chance to sail safely from now on. Go and make the seamen come out ¨C they¡¯ve been put to deep slumber just like you, no doubts about that. Let¡¯s get to the southern shores as quickly as we can.¡±


    His speech wasn¡¯t met with triumphal roars like in the myths and legends that Ehrir was familiar with, but they still got the sorcerers excited. Many apprentices rushed off to the lower decks of their vessels and soon sailors started showing up. The galley wasn¡¯t an exception and Varhel quickly brought at least several dozens of seafarers from the ship¡¯s belly, led by the captain himself. Soon under his command the ship began moving forward yet again, along with the rest of the fleet. They had to compensate for the time lost in the Ethereal¡¯s veil of mist.


    The mood was still low ¨C the crew had just lost a man and met with a being that they couldn¡¯t fully understand. The sunshine and the feeling of lightheartedness that came with the sight of open seas couldn¡¯t change their dark faces for the better.


    ¡°We won¡¯t ever be able to give him a proper burial, ¡®ya know¡­ That just makes me feel bad, mate.¡± Those words belonged to one of the sailors and Ehrir just overheard them. It made a strange feeling grip him by the throat. Just a little while ago he hated the whole mankind. Now that intense emotion was erased almost completely from his mind, to the point where he felt¡­ sadness for a dead seaman. That shocked him a little bit. He hadn''t thought about it before.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The day went by rather quickly. He sat by and watched the fleet, tried to read some pages from the Sorcerer¡¯s Book (but wasn''t able to), ate with Nalia and her brother and tried to cheer them up. Both of the siblings weren¡¯t happy with the fact that they gave in to the Ethereal¡¯s magic so easily, but Ehrir¡¯s soothing words helped them smile a bit. The idea that the unknown, ancient sea monster was able to use sorcery was quite disturbing to all three of Sevrian¡¯s apprentices, but they weren¡¯t more fearful of the creature for this. After all, the Ashen Gaze managed to make it run away, didn¡¯t he?


    Ostrias himself came to visit the galley at sunset, when the horizon turned into a whirl of bronze and bloody redness. His motives didn¡¯t become clear at first, but he managed to make all of the crew sweat and bow down to him without even trying. He just stood around for half an hour, exchanging some meaningless chatter with Sevrian. He sounded¡­ Not as confident and cheerful as usual. Ehrir thought that the Ashen Gaze wanted to talk about the Thirdborn when he declared that he wanted to speak with him privately.


    The old man lent the two of them his room at the deckhouse for the occasion. Ostrias entered and looked around with a semi-relaxed expression before sinking into one of the chairs. The Undone One was familiar with his habits and sat down without asking for permission.


    Ostrias was quiet for a while and Ehrir didn¡¯t dare to speak up. In the end the ancient sorcerer began talking by himself.


    ¡°Have you ever¡­ doomed someone¡¯s life, Ehrir?¡±


    ¡°No, master. I don¡¯t think so, at least. I¡¯ve killed, but¡­ only in self-defense.¡± The Undone One shook his head slowly. Painful memories surged up within him.


    ¡°I¡¯m not talking about killing, but about making the decision to let someone die without even trying to save them¡­ Have you done that?¡±


    ¡°No, master.¡±


    ¡°I have. I just wanted to say it to someone as it¡¯s been on my mind... I feel like I should compensate the world for the death of a certain someone.¡±


    ¡°And how would you do that, master?¡±


    Ostrias¡¯ face went from calm to gravely serious and grim in the matter of seconds.


    ¡°Do you have a dream?¡±


    Ehrir swallowed. Had he ever before voiced the idea that grew inside of him for some time now? He didn¡¯t know, but the answer was probably ¡®no¡¯. It was absurd, of course¡­ But he didn¡¯t have any other dream as of now.


    ¡°I¡­¡± he began with an unconfident, quiet tone. ¡°From the depths of my heart and soul¡­ I want to kill Farnaraen the Thirdborn.¡±


    A faint smile bloomed on the Ashen Gaze¡¯s face, but the absence of his usual laughter could be almost physically felt.


    ¡°You know what?¡± he uttered after a moment of silence. ¡°If you ever get even remotely close to being able to do it¡­ I¡¯ll help you with what I can. I hope we can become a good team, Ehrir¡­ or should I say ¡°Killer of Changelings¡±?¡±

 Interlude - The Hidden Paths

    "Any magic path will fade away eventually. To make such a thing is too complex... It just doesn''t last as long as other things do. The centuries aren''t merciful to the shortcuts created by the mages of old."


    Excerpt from "On the Topic of Eternity" by Hanos Saphireblade


    ***


    ¡°What is this?¡±


    ¡°A remnant from the era of the non-humans, Arleon. It is known as a Traversing Stone. There are a few dozens of them left in the world. They were created by the goliaths back in their prime. They are collectively called the Goliaths¡¯ Web, understandably¡­ They were still used from time when I was young, but now are completely abandoned. If it still works, then we¡¯re granted quick access to the Inner Fantasy. If it doesn¡¯t¡­ There will be a long journey ahead of us. At least all this wandering and preparations in the north won''t be for naught."


    Farnaraen and his former disciple were the only people noticeable in the night¡¯s thick veil of darkness. They were illuminated by a ball of light floating next to Arleon. In front of them stood a large boulder with strange symbols (far more chaotic and ancient than the Emhaelic alphabet) engraved in its smooth sides. Except for it, the field surrounding the two sorcerers was perfectly ordinary. Far beyond their backs shone the lights of just one amongst many of the city states that dotted the lands south of the Cargaen Sea. The name of this one was slightly different than the one remembered by the Thirdborn. Those places were insignificant for him and far too different from what he remembered.


    The ancient Changeling was feeling well in his renewed, young skin. The few rituals he performed during the last eight years managed to bring his body back from its fragile, old state straight into the golden years of its maturity. Many would find Farnaraen attractive in his current form ¨C tall, muscular, with silvery blond hair and deep violet eyes, holding some undefinable wisdom and glowing strangely. His short, unkempt beard just added to the sense of power coming off of him.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t we use it when fleeing from the Inner Fantasy during the Ascension Crisis?¡± asked Arleon. He managed to stop addressing the Thirdborn as ¡®lord¡¯ long ago, but asides from that he was still treating Farnaraen as his master. His tone was far more than just respectful.


    ¡°I was afraid¡±, answered the older Changeling while shrugging his shoulders. ¡°People were still using it back then. And it¡¯s not exactly hard to follow someone through the Traversing Stones. I had some pretty unpleasant experiences because of this in the two thousand years during which I used it to travel. Stand back now. And don''t move a muscle.¡±


    Arleon obeyed his command silently and with a lowered head. His manner of doing things annoyed Farnaraen. After all those years his former apprentice was still acting like a servant in his presence, even after three centuries of separation. But he wasn''t in the mood to speak about that right now.


    The Thirdborn sat down on the ground and closed his eyes. He focused his magical power and let a powerful blast of Conquering enter the Traversing Stone. He instantly sensed a similar amount of the same magic rushing towards him. For some it would be almost deadly, but for Farnaraen it was just like a flea¡¯s bite.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    The Traversing Stone was based on a simple principle ¨C it had to be overpowered first to work. It wasn¡¯t an easy task for most sorcerers, as the magical barrier preventing them from accessing the Goliaths¡¯ Web needed an insane amount of Conquering to lift itself. This was a pain in the ass, but Farnaraen understood why it was done ¨C the goliaths, like any of the older non-humans, were afraid of someone using their inventions. Unfortunately for them, the Thirdborn managed to break the barrier after just four tries. His skills in Conquering were getting rusty, but his rough potential compensated for that. And the boulder''s counterattacks didn''t even scratch him.


    He opened his eyes and smiled faintly. The engravings in the boulder had begun to shine with soft blue light. A glowing figure (vaguely reminiscent of a door of massive size) was forming on the stone. It took about a minute for it to take shape and fully open, revealing a strange looking passage leading to a chaotic whirl of blue and turquoise. The place looked like it didn¡¯t belong to this world. And that was the case, in a sense ¨C the goliaths had built it outside the boundaries of the material plane. How this was possible remained a mystery¡­


    ¡°Follow me, Arleon¡±, uttered the Thirdborn as he stepped through the stone and into the storm of colors that formed the Web¡¯s innards. Arleon followed him with an unconfident step and unsure expression.


    ***


    ¡°This could¡¯ve gone better¡­¡± the Thirdborn murmured while looking at his surroundings. His former apprentice was kneeling on the ground next to him and throwing up for the second time since they left the Goliaths¡¯ Web.


    ¡°What¡­ What the fuck was that?¡± Arleon managed to utter before emptying his stomach yet again.


    ¡°I have no idea¡­ Probably no one does.¡± Farnaraen swallowed. ¡°The Web shouldn¡¯t be this¡­ thin and fragile. Maybe it¡¯s finally collapsing after so many millennia¡­ In any case, we won¡¯t use it from now on.¡±


    Their short journey through the Web was very different from what the ancient Changeling was used to. The paths in the Web were unstable and dangerous now and it took Farnaraen some hours to orientate in the decaying parts of it. They managed to get out, but not through the right exit. They were in some rough, dusty basement now, with the Traversing Stone behind their backs, half of it buried in the floor. The place looked deserted and unused.


    ¡°Get ahold of yourself quicker, Arleon. I¡¯ll go ahead and scout a little bit. We need to learn our location.¡±


    The Thirdborn left the basement with these words and went up a flight of wooden stairs. They were in a bad state, to say the least. The only source of light was his own magic. The stairs led him to a miserable, tiny room. There were a few inhabitants here ¨C a couple of seemingly dangerous thugs sleeping on simple beds next to some skinny, ugly women with barely any clothing on them. Cheap whores, undoubtedly. None of the four residents were particularly happy to see the Changeling, but he quickly rendered them unconscious with a simple spell. The door was tightly locked, but he didn¡¯t want to search for the key, so he just Changed it into air.


    The view that the street (dirty, unpaved and crooked) revealed to him was quite something. The city was apparently at the bottom of some kind of chasm. Gargantuan walls were surrounding it from three sides. The fourth was occupied by a hill tickly covered in buildings and illuminated by countless colorful lights. At the top of it stood a castle of considerable size. Its crystal walls held a unique beauty. Tonight they were lit in golden and red.


    ¡°Oh¡­ this place, huh?¡± whispered Farnaraen to himself. He had visited the city a few times before, but its name was probably changed since then. But the nickname¡­


    Were the people still calling it ¡®the city of cutthroats''?

 Chapter 27 - Southern Shores

    ¡°And I thought that the south was warm even in winter¡­¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ It fucking isn¡¯t.¡±


    Ehrir tried to wrap himself even further into the cloak covering him from the shoulders to the toes. Nalia was beside him in her chair. She was trying to ignore the cold and succeeding, mostly. It was easy for her, with that scarf, the hood and the fur coat.


    The two apprentices had spent almost an hour on the deck, gazing onto the horizon as the southern shore grew bigger and bigger before their eyes.


    The last one and a half weeks were spent in plain and simple sailing. During that time the autumn had finally given in. Now there was coldness permeating the air even at noon and cavalcades of grey clouds reigned in the sky. The sea was not as calm as before, although storms were rare and always missed the Ashen Gaze¡¯s fleet. This environment proved to be as boring as the previous one and Ehrir used most of his time to continue improving his magical powers and enchanting capabilities. Under the old man¡¯s advice he grew to be even more powerful in Manipulation and showed good advancement in Destruction and Creation. When it came to Conquering and Control¡­ It was safe to say that he wouldn¡¯t become Nalia¡¯s equal in the first discipline any time soon and the situation with the second wasn¡¯t much better.


    But now the boredom, the reading of yellowy parchments and the constant training were left behind his back. He could sense the aura of change in the air. Everyone was longing to set their feet on the coast and start journeying through the south in a try to find Arleon¡­ and the Thirdborn along with him. Ostrias had already voiced his plans to split his subordinates into a handful of groups and send them out to different locations. Still, every option sounded better than the ¡®city of cutthroats¡¯. Ehrir learned a fair bit about the place in the last couple of days and the image in his mind just darkened after every one of them was revealed.


    He pushed out the thoughts swarming in his mind and inhaled the chilly air. He didn¡¯t have to worry about anything just for a little while. Until they reached the shore, at least. And yet, his consciousness quickly let to a question being born.


    ¡°Hey¡­¡± he turned towards Nalia. ¡°Have you been in Tarha-Nan before?¡±


    The young woman¡¯s brows furrowed.


    ¡°No. I already told you everything I knew, but it¡¯s just shady rumors at best¡­ I can¡¯t believe that the Ashen Gaze is planning to send us there. That place is¡­ chaotic, to say the least. Its official leaders have no real authority beyond their castles¡¯ walls. And I doubt that the criminal overlords will do as much as glance at our direction even with a letter bearing the symbol of master Ostrias to back us up.¡±


    Ehrir nodded silently. He still believed in the ancient sorcerer¡¯s influence, but his hope to ever find a trace of Farnaraen in the city of cutthroats became dimmer and dimmer by the minute. Not to mention that the chance for the Thirdborn to even there was slim¡­


    The Undone One and his comrade stood on the deck quietly for the next half an hour. Both of them sank in their own thoughts and lost sense of time until the galley finally neared the coast. There was no settlement or even a building in sight, only long rocky beach in bleak shades of grey. Beyond it lied a grassland which gradually turned into a series of hills and dense forests. Mountain range engulfed in fog occupied half of the horizon''s edge. It wasn''t a particularly cheerful or lively scenery, but it was better than the endless azure of the Cargaen Sea that Ehrir was accustomed to.


    The ship had just one boat, so reaching the shore became a slow task. Luckily, Varhel managed to transport Ehrir, Nalia and the old man quickly. His flight abilities proved useful once again, but he wasn¡¯t able to outmatch Ostrias who stepped first upon the beach. Soon all of the sorcerers and their disciples reached the coast in one way or another, but the sailors¡¯ arrival wasn¡¯t as quick. The remaining hours of sunlight were easily wasted. At least shelter was quickly built by the Manipulation and Creation masters. It wasn¡¯t anything spectacular ¨C just dozens of cubical buildings with one floor and simple windows, able to house six or seven people each.


    Some of the sailors preferred to return to their ships when faced with the idea to stay in the primitive houses, but most remained on the shkre. The small amount of mercenaries and soldiers that left the Archipelago of Claws along with the Ashen Gaze quickly organized themselves and spread out the beach and field in an attempt to guard the sorcerers. Ostrias oversaw all of this until the evening. Then the ancient mage proceeded to create a place for himself. In mere moments his sorcery borne a three stories high pyramid with vibrant blue walls and mosaic windows. It was definitely more grandiose and beautiful than the stone cubes around, although it lacked the mastery and fine details that actual builders and architects put in their creations. Nonetheless, it caused Ehrir¡¯s jaw to drop in a spectacular manner.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Better get used to this¡­ Master Ostrias loves to live luxuriously, even if he is in the wasteland¡±, said Varhel after he saw the Undone One¡¯s expression. A faint grin dance don the young man¡¯s face.


    His words sparked a question within Ehrir¡¯s mind.


    ¡°Why do we lower our anchors in the middle of nowhere?¡±


    ¡°I have no damned idea¡­¡± Varhel shrugged his shoulders. ¡°You can say that the Ashen Gaze wanted to and leave it at that. And it¡¯ll be true¡­ But the master is probably not willing to attract any unnecessary attention by docking his fleet at some of the big ports around. There should be a city state nearby, actually¡­ Well, nearby is a bit of a relative term.¡±


    Soon dusk engulfed the world, so the two men got inside their own cube. Nalia and Sevria were already there.. The old man had divided it in four almost coffin-like rooms via Creation. There was a fifth one, too ¨C bigger and with a massive, albeit rough-looking fireplace. In its insides danced magical flames, filling the place with subtle green light. No smoke was coming off of them. The room was additionally illuminated by a couple of glowing spheres. No furniture was transported from the vessels, so Ehrir and the others had to use the primitive chairs and a table created by Varhel and further refined by the Undone One. At least the food they dined with wasn¡¯t made by a sorcerer.


    ***


    Ehrir didn¡¯t manage to sleep well. The reason didn¡¯t lie in the bed which was Changed into existence by him and was far more than just uncomfortable. It wasn¡¯t the absence of a pillow or a blanket, either. The thoughts invading his mind couldn¡¯t just let him sleep in peace. He was thinking about Tarha-Nan and their path to there again and again. The defensive instincts from his homeless years awakened slowly. What if the Thirdborn had some of the criminal organizations there in his grip? What if he was able to establish and scatter a number of subordinates through the whole south and they just waited for someone to mention his name and to alarm him? What if some kind of war erupted during the Undone One''s travels? What if¡­


    He shook his head viciously and tried to fend off these thoughts away many times during the night. The years spent on the streets taught him to always think about the worst possible scenario and that habit started working again when Ehrir was faced with so many possibilities and uncertainties. It was quite the task to calm down and let himself succumb to slumber. It wasn¡¯t particularly long nor very relaxing kind of sleep, but he still woke less tired than before.


    The morning turned out to be as cold as the previous one and even damper. There was a slight fog on the beach and it invoked the unpleasant memories of the Ethereal within Ehrir. It was early, but the boats were already going between the beach and the ships. Every trip of the sailors brought a wide variety of items for the sorcerers - from furniture to clothes, books and various religious symbols.


    Most of the mages themselves just wandered around meaninglessly or stayed in their cubes. The small fraction of Ostrias¡¯ subordinates that referred to themselves as feral wizards had already abandoned the buildings and erected various tents just a few steps away from the sea. The dozens of warriors walking around just added to the array of people, movements and noises of the camp. It was quite a unique sight. The Undone One spent a lot of time just standing on the beach and watching it all.


    Until noon Ehrir had already seen some familiar faces. He met Lantor ¨C he was hanging with Ahor as usual. The latter wasn''t particularly happy to see the Undone One, but the former grinned upon laying his eyes on him.


    "Have you tried using the enchanted blade already?" he asked after exchanging the usual greetings with Ehrir.


    "No, I haven''t."


    "Well, do it as soon as possible, friend! There is a lot of useless rocks around here, so just make something out of them and start cutting it." Lantor''s words were filled with enthusiasm and he oftenly glanced towards his own magical sword, loosely hanging on his waist. He was going to follow his own advice, undoubtedly.


    "I''ll think about it."


    "Of course, of course. I can''t force it on you." The young man suddenly turned towards Ahor. "See? Both I and him have enchanted blades thanks to your little service. You should be proud of that!"


    "Yeah, right." Ahor''s expression was far from proud. "My master suspected that his book had disappeared and its return didn''t make his assumptions go away. He''s more paranoid than he has always been now."


    The three of them - mainly Ehrir and Lantor, actually - exchanged some chatter and could go on for another dozen of minutes if it wasn''t for the arrival of an important man on the beach.


    Ostrias looked sleepy and his messy hair and barely open eyes suggested his recent awakening. Regardless of that, a wide grin hanged on his face.


    "Hey... Do you guys think that he was with a girl? He was getting up pretty early back in Nalevas. Only a really dirty woman can make such an early bird wake at noon..." Lantor giggled.


    "For fuck''s sake... You could''ve at least said it quieter", hissed Ahor.


    His words were almost drowned in the Ashen Gaze''s empowered voice.


    "Men!" he uttered in a cheery manner. "Gather around!" He theatrically paused for a second. "It''s time to speak for a bit and for me to handle out some tasks."

 Chapter 28 - Outlining of the Route

    ¡°Now... are all of my subordinates here?¡±


    Ostrias¡¯ words were met with nods from dozens of sorcerers and apprentices. They had all lined up on the beach before him. The ancient mage mentioned that they could sit down if they wanted, but most were still standing. Ehrir was amongst them, too. The cold stones underneath his boots didn¡¯t seem particularly comfortable. Lantor, on the other hand, was squatting besides him. Nalia, Varhel and the old man were definitely somewhere nearby, but the Undone One couldn¡¯t see them.


    ¡°Okay then¡±, said the Ashen Gaze. He was speaking in the southern tongue now, which was more familiar to most of the mages. He gave some time for the nordlings such as Ehrir to learn it, but had come to an end. Fortunately, the Undone One knew enough of it to understand. ¡°As you all know, we all have to split up from here. I¡¯ll repeat our goal once again, although y¡¯all know it. We need to track down and find a Changeling going by the name Arleon, commonly referred to as Arleon of the Pale Valley. If some of you find him, you need to contact me immediately. I¡¯ll provide you with the magic artefacts to do so. In any case¡­ Do not attack him! My goal isn¡¯t to harm or fight with him.¡± He went quiet for a moment and looked at the nearly two hundred people around. ¡°Now¡­ Let the full-fledged sorcerers working under me step forth.¡±


    Nearly quarter of the men and women in the crowd started moving forward. Most of them were clearly very experienced in the magic arts and seemingly proud of it. The Ashen Gaze called them out one by one and explained something quietly after giving them some unknown item. Ehrir couldn¡¯t see it from afar. It took some time for Sevrian to receive one, too, as he was in the back of the crowd.


    The Undone One approached the old man after he was done talking with Ostrias. Sevrian knew where they were headed to for a long time now, but his expression was dark nonetheless.


    ¡°Well, it is official now¡±, he said in a low tone. ¡°We¡¯re going to Tarha-Nan. I¡¯ve got a letter from the master with me. It should open the city¡¯s palace to us as long as we show it to a noble.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure it will do the job, master?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t be.¡±


    The two men searched for Nalia and Varhel while talking about the possible paths towards the city of cutthroats. Ehrir was unfamiliar with the geography of the south, so Sevrian practically monologued about it. He voiced his ideas about crossing the mountains that could be seen on the horizon, but going around them was also a possibility. Then they had to navigate through a series of valleys and forests until reaching the coast of an ocean. Its name was completely alien and unknown to Ehrir, but he didn¡¯t ask the old man about it.


    From the ocean¡¯s shore they had to go south and then west until reaching the road leading to Tarha-Nan. Sevrian went into more and more details, but the landmarks he mentioned were completely new to Ehrir. He didn¡¯t understand much of the old man¡¯s plan besides the general outline.


    Soon the Undone One and his master found Nalia and Varhel and discussed the path with them all over again. Sevrian revealed that they had to start travelling according to Ostrias¡¯ commands. They dictated that all groups of sorcerers had to leave the camp until the end of the week. The Ashen Gaze himself wanted to wait for the arrival of his subordinates that roamed the south coasts. They were a handful of people, but held the most vital knowledge about Arleon and the rumors surrounding him and his ¡®lord¡¯. To transfer that information to the travelling mages was easy ¨C the artefact given to them (small black shard of crystal covered in runes in some non-human, primitive alphabet) provided instantaneous connection.


    The remainder of the day was primarily spent in packing of baggage and getting ready for travels, although the preparations weren¡¯t very fast in Ehrir¡¯s case. The sailors transported his things to the shore quickly, but he ordered and packed them up by himself and without hurrying. He didn¡¯t have a lot of baggage, just several pairs of shoes, couple of hats, a bunch of clothes and some writing supplies. The most precious thing amongst all of them was ¡°The Sorcerer¡¯s Book¡±, but it didn¡¯t really belong to the Undone One. His other valuable item ¨C the ¡®frigid blade¡¯ ¨C was always hanging on his waist in a simple, well-crafted leather sheath. He really wanted to try it out, but going around and cutting up things while surrounded by sorcerers didn¡¯t sound like the best thing to do.


    Fortunately, the next days provided him with more than enough free time to train with the weapon. The start of his journey was still halted by Sevrian. Because of that he had the chance to leave the camp and go around the nearby field to practice alone or with Lantor. The Undone One wasn¡¯t in his top body condition ¨C he was still pretty weak, although he gained some weight and muscle mass in the last months. Still, he managed to learn some basic moves and positions in a couple of days, primarily because of Lantor¡¯s help. The man, albeit muscular and fast, didn¡¯t know much about swordsmanship. The two of them were quite a sight during training. Luckily, no one saw their uncoordinated attempts to make diagonal slashes or forward thrusts.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    When it came to magical capabilities, both Ehrir¡¯s and Lantor¡¯s weapons showed immense power. ¡®The frigid blade¡¯ could cover a piece of wood with a layer of ice as thick as a grown man¡¯s finger in the matter of seconds. The other sword could turn it to ashes with its blue flames even faster. The two men almost started a fire in the field a few times, but it was worth it.


    The Green Scar arrived at the third day since reaching the coast. He was probably the most important amongst Ostrias¡¯ subordinates. After all, it was him that acquired the information concerning the Thirdborn and Arleon and helped it reach the Ashen Gaze.


    The man deserved his nickname, this much was obvious ¨C a long greenish scar marked his left cheek and continued down his throat. There were some vague stories and rumors going around that concerned its nature and origin, but nothing was really certain. Yet everyone agreed that it had to do something with magic. Some said that he got it while dueling with a feral mage. Others believed that it was delivered by the hand of Ostrias himself while the ancient sorcerer was angered at his subordinate, although most denounced that as unbelievable. The idea that he might have injured himself while practicing was much more normal-sounding, but nobody seemed to even think about it. It was simply too boring.


    The Green Scar talked for hours with the Ashen Gaze on that day and both didn¡¯t look particularly happy afterwards. In the next twenty four hours another five sorcerers roaming the south arrived and reported to Ostrias. Ehrir didn¡¯t know the contents of their talks, but the useful information was probably scarce, judging by the older mage''s dark glances and serious expression after each and every one of them.


    By the point when most of the subordinates from the south arrived in the camp, half of all wizard groups were long since gone. Most of them left by sunrise and with a small amount of baggage. Travelling by feet was probably a pain for the older sorcerers, but Ehrir was sure that they would acquire some decent mounts at the first town they encountered. Part of the guards and soldiers went along with them, so the camp¡¯s population was seriously thinned. It was certainly quieter now. The atmosphere was almost peaceful and calm, too. The ships and their crews were still there, but even they were to soon set sail to some big port and remain there until further notice. Slowly but surely Ehrir grew to (jokingly) believe that the old man wanted them to be the last group to start travelling. That wasn¡¯t the case, of course ¨C Sevrian was advised by the Ashen Gaze almost every day. It surely was the older man that wanted their party to wait a little more.


    Lantor left the camp after Ahor, on the fifth morning since the arrival on the shore. There were only a handful of independent sorcerers remaining at that time. There weren¡¯t too many disciples around, either. Ehrir couldn¡¯t see his departure, but the two said their goodbyes the previous evening. The place felt even lonelier without him and Nalia was the only one managing to make it feel at least a little bit lively.


    On the sixth day Ehrir learned the reason why they hadn¡¯t started journeying yet. Varhel asked about it directly while dining. While the old man didn¡¯t offer much of a profound and satisfying explanation, he still answered the question.


    ¡°Master Ostrias is waiting for someone¡±, he uttered slowly. ¡°It¡¯s another subordinate of his, along with her apprentices. She¡¯ll travel to Tarha-Nan with us. The master sees her as a very capable magician. And she is, really, especially with the fact that she was born and grew in the Inner Fantasy. Her skills and knowledge are immense. But her apprentices¡­ they are pretty bizarre bunch, truth be told. And in more ways than one."


    The old man¡¯s words could only invoke curiosity within the Undone One. That feeling alone made the next two days bearable (barely). He spent them going further and further into the fields and continuously training with the magical sword for hours on end. Sometimes he just sat on the ground and looked at the quiet nature around him, reminiscing about the past months of his life. He was amazed at how far he went for this small window of time. He remembered his wish for death and felt it lurking somewhere deep within him, deeply suppressed and asleep, but yet¡­ it was living. What had to be done for it to be finally gone? Ehrir couldn¡¯t answer that question even if his life depended on it.


    And then, on the eight day in the camp, while the Undone One roamed the fields in silence, he met Salelia, the witch that was to travel alongside him and his companions. He saw her from afar and couldn''t take his eyes off of her until she neared him.


    The witch was strange. Otherworldly, even. Tall, pale and slender, she seemed frail and almost illusionary on the back of her massive black horse. Her embroidered white dress was one of the most beautiful pieces of clothing Ehrir had ever seen and its pure color was in a sharp contrast with her dark brown hair.


    Behind the witch rode seven people, each of them on a horse with slightly different color than the others. They were a grotesque group of people. There was an albino amongst them, along with a young woman covered in tattoos from head to toe, and an old blind man with scars all over his face. Ehrir looked away from them only after the witch''s voice reached his ears.


    "Excuse me", Salelia said in a respectful tone. Her voice was sweet and girly, not really suiting for a woman her age. "Can you take me to Ostrias Haelum?"

 Chapter 29 - Fascinating Group of Weirdos

    Ehrir was starting to get creeped out by the blind man¡¯s unseeing gaze. It was fixated on him for the last ten minutes now. He couldn¡¯t call the man out for it ¨C he was doing it unconsciously, after all. But it still made him shiver.


    The Undone One stood with his back against the wall of Ostrias¡¯ building at the shore. The place¡¯s innards were well-lit and cozy, especially the living room which he was in. Green flames danced within the fireplace, creating figures and whole battle scenes under the Ashen Gaze¡¯s control.


    Ehrir, along with his fellow apprentices, were positioned in one end of the vast living room. On the other werethe group of strange looking people under the witch¡¯s wing. Between those two parties stood a table with three richly ornamented chairs around it. Upon them sat Sevrian, Ostrias and the witch ¨C Salelia. They were discussing the possible path to Tarha-Nan for some good hour and a half now. Ehrir could barely stand their complicated, unending chatter. He led the witch here, but hadn¡¯t done anything much since. He was more or less forced to stay silent during all this time (except for the occasional whispers between him and Nalia). Boredom had already overtaken him. He longed for the vastness and freedom of the fields and the time sinks which his training sessions with the magical sword quickly turned into. Hell, reading the damned tome of transmogrification was more enjoyable than this¡­ Except for the headaches.


    He spent some time gazing at the witch¡¯s apprentices during the last hour, but he got disinterested with them after in the end.


    Even so, the disciples were a unique bunch. The albino and the tattoo-covered girl were the least bizarre amongst them. The blind old man¡¯s face was tickly covered in scars, along with at least his arms up to the elbows, as everything else was hidden by his clothes. The disturbing marks were definitely made with the same weapon, as they had the same texture, depth and width. The other disciples consisted of an extraordinarily tall man that could barely stand upfront within the room and a bald youngling no older than sixteen that had scars from brandings all over him. His ears were covered in more earrings than Ehrir could count and he had dozens of piercings on his nose, eyebrows and lips.


    Still, that made up to just five people overall. The Undone One didn¡¯t know if he could even refer to the other two as people.


    They were non-humans.


    The first one was a member of the ratkin ¨C short, skinny and mice-like creatures with red eyes and grey hair all over them. The thing had the ability to speak human language and to wear suitable clothes. It could even to hold a walking staff properly despite the three fingers with long claws on its hands. Its massive front pair of teeth could probably bite off a finger or two without problem.


    The other non-human¡­ He was truly freaky in many kinds of ways. His appearance was previously obscured by a long dark-grey cloak and hood that drowned his face in darkness. But once they got inside Ostrias¡¯ building, he took it off and revealed a really grotesque sight.


    The man¡¯s face was half-rotten and his dried eyeballs could barely stay inside their sockets. His ears, lips, nose and eyelids were missing and his bare skull was bald. His flesh was dried and the stench of death didn¡¯t emanate from him (surprisingly). Only his vaguely male physique suggested the presence of a gender. Sevrian informed Ehrir that this¡­ creature belonged to the race of the Unliving. They were animated corpses, result of a failed experiment of the most powerful non-human race ¨C the goliaths ¨C in the days of old. The older race managed to somehow affix the soul to an already dead body, but the result was far too unsatisfying for them to continue doing the process. Because of that they left the small amount of Unliving to live by themselves outside the borders of their empires.


    Yet, the corpse standing at the opposite end of the room wasn¡¯t from this first generation of Unliving. The ritual to create such things wasn¡¯t lost through the centuries. It was actually memorized and passed down within the race through the millennia. As the Unliving¡¯s appearance seemed mostly human, he was likely created during the current era. And probably in the last decades, too, as the older ones of his kind rarely served under anyone.


    The old man bombarded Ehrir with this kind of information in the matter of minutes.


    ¡°What a fascinating group of weirdos, right?¡± whispered Nalia. She was still staring at the Unliving with eyes full of amazement.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t have said it better myself¡±, murmured Varhel and then sank in silence.


    Fortunately, the discussion between the three wizards soon came to a close... Sort of. Ehrir felt like he could fall in slumber, but it happened just in time for him to retain consciousness.


    ¡°You can wake up, young people¡±, said Ostrias loudly while smiling. ¡°The old people finally finished their stupid blabber, am I right?¡±


    His words invoked some smiles and giggles from the two groups of apprentices. Even the humanoid rat grinned. It was a creepy sight.


    ¡°Be at ease ¨C I won¡¯t make you stand here any longer¡±, added the Ashen Gaze cheerfully. ¡°Go and rest now. Your masters will say the important things to you. I want you to be out of this place by tomorrow morning. You have matters to attend you and I''ll be more than happy if you succeed as soon as possible."If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Sevrian and the witch just nodded to last sentence and left the room after bowing to their master. Their disciples followed them in silence, as the two groups awkwardly exchanged glances. Once outside they separated quickly after the old man and Salelia said their goodbyes.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t lying when you said that her apprentices are a bizarre bunch, master¡±, exclaimed Varhel when they returned to their own stone cube.


    ¡°Her previous ones were the same kind of people¡­ Easily sticking out in the crowd. She seems to like being surrounded by such types of humans... and non-humans, too.¡± Sevrian shrugged his shoulders. ¡°I can¡¯t understand it personally, but¡­ Who am I to judge?¡±


    At the point of time the sun was already hanging lower and lower in the heavens, obscured by legions of steel clouds. Only vague hints of light suggested its position, but darkness would soon rise from the east and embrace the world. This was the last day in the camp and the Undone One knew it well. But he didn¡¯t know what to make of the remaining hours until going to sleep, except for dining.


    Well, this time the answer found him by surprise.


    ***


    ¡°I know it was a bit sudden, elder Sevrian¡­ But you don¡¯t have anything against it, do you?¡±


    ¡°No. And don¡¯t call me elder. I¡¯m just about twenty years older than you, despite my appearance.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes¡­ I guess that the blood of the Inner Fantasy is a precious gift, really¡­¡±


    The chatter between Salelia and the old man sounded so ordinary (if one was familiar with magic and its basics) that it was almost hilarious at times.


    Ehrir yawned. He was in a (previously) empty cubical building that wasn¡¯t divided into rooms. Now it was well-lit, warm and full of people. Both the apprentices of the witch and Sevrian were here, along with the two sorcerers. There were several tables covered with food and bottles of alcohol, a couple of sofas (not looking very comfortable and probably made with Manipulation) and half a dozen chairs. Most of them were occupied, but a few of the disciples (including Ehrir) preferred to stand around.


    This whole meeting was organized by Salelia in an attempt to ¡®bring our parties closer to one another¡¯, as she stated herself. It was going quite nicely for Nalia ¨C she was already engaged in a dialogue with the branded boy and the tattooed girl, along with the unnaturally tall man. The albino was focused on eating and drinking booze, but he was also in a deep discussion with the ratman. Varhel himself was exchanging some sentences with the blind man. Ehrir could understand why the young man preferred the mutilated elder to talk with. The scars on his neck and arms were similar in nature to that of the witch¡¯s disciple, albeit slightly different.


    As for Ehrir¡­ He didn¡¯t really know how to engage in a talk with any of these people. They seemed just a little bit too strange for him to be confident in such a situation. Their mannerisms, gestures, way if talking and even poses... They were all bizarre. Regardless of that, he would butt in just for the sake of it. But all the people around seemed so deeply sunk in their own discussions that he didn¡¯t dare to do it.


    Then, for good or bad, his eyes accidentally met those of the Unliving, who seemed disinterested in everything going around. And yet, the creature quickly walked towards him afterwards. The Undone One couldn¡¯t guess his intentions ¨C emotions couldn¡¯t be shown on that decayed face with the barely hidden skull beneath it.


    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you talking with everyone else?¡± he asked. His voice was barely understandable, but his dried-up tongue still managed to produce words. He spoke in a quiet, almost whisper-like manner.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know.¡± Ehrir swallowed up the disgust welling in his throat. The memories of the corpses scattered across the meadow where he first awakened returned and the urge to throw up rose. Fortunately, he managed to stay mostly calm on the outside and fend off his memories. Still, he had to make some kind of excuse for the not very talkative behavior.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know what to do in such a crowded place and with whom to talk.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I can¡¯t say that I¡¯m very experienced, either.¡± Strange sounds came from the Unliving¡¯s throat, like he was choking on something. Was that supposed to be a laugh? ¡°I stand out, but not in a good way. My friends over there and my master are the only ones I communicate with¡­ Why don¡¯t you know what to do?¡± He went silent for a second. ¡°Oh, excuse me. I know it¡¯s a rude question. But you seem like a good man. Hell, you aren¡¯t hostile towards me and I¡¯m¡­ very unique. You should be mighty fine at creating friends. You look well, too.¡±


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t always a well-looking man.¡± Ehrir¡¯s brows furrowed. The undead man was definitely quick to jump to conclusions, but that wasn¡¯t the most spectacular thing about him. Obviously. ¡°I actually lived on the streets for long amounts of time. That''s not the best place to become a smooth talker." Why was he telling him all of this bullshit?


    ¡°Oh¡­ That seems tough. I¡¯ve never been on the streets myself¡­ At least in life. After I became as I am now¡­ Well, let¡¯s say I had some lows in my¡­ should I call it an unlife?¡±


    Those words got a slight smirk out of the Undone One. The zombie was... surprisingly cheerful for someone in his situation.


    "So you had a normal life some time back?"


    "Yeah." The Unliving shrugged his bony shoulders. "I would''ve set myself on fire a long time ago if it wasn''t for my comrades and the pleasant memories from before my body became a pile of rotting flesh."


    That sounds grim,thought Ehrir. But he pushed on and continued talking, changing the subject. Soon he and the Unliving man were in a deep dialogue and quickly got to know each other. The name of the zombie was Zaster and he seemed to like drinking wine (although he couldn''t really feel the taste of it nor the alcohol''s effects), reading poetry and wearing fine cloaks. At the end of the night, when the two groups of apprentices went their ways, the Undone One and Zaster separated with a friendly handshake. Ehrir could sense the coldness of the man''s touch through his silk gloves.


    Even in his wildest dreams he couldn''t predict about getting to know a living corpse.


    The beginning of his journey was coming. On the next morning they were to finally head towards Tarha-Nan.

 Chapter 30 - Through Hills and Forests

    They left the camp at the break of dawn. It was at the same cold hour when their breaths turned to steam as soon as they left their mouths.


    The group consisted of fifteen people all in all, including the non-humans. Three guards were part of it and were sent personally by the Ashen Gaze. All members of the the party wore warm fur clothes, along with long cloaks and hoods. They traveled by foot, except for Varhel. The young man was in his half-bird form, flying a few meters up in the air. It was a laid-back, cautious kind of flight, hardly exhausting him even after hours.


    Ostrias didn¡¯t come to send them off, but that was expected. His presence wasn¡¯t really desired, too ¨C everyone was cold (except for Zaster, as he couldn¡¯t feel any real kind of bodily sensation) and wanted to get moving as quickly as possible. The quick pace set by Salelia helped all the apprentices ¨C their blood quickly got pumping. Sweat even broke on their faces. The witch¡¯s horses were with them, but they were used mostly for transportation of the baggage. The only disciple riding one was Nalia, although she was more half-lying on the back of the animal and barely managed to control it.


    Ehrir felt strange after all the time he spent passively, just standing on the ship or going around the fields. To move for long periods of time got him tired quickly, but at least he wasn¡¯t alone. Every time he moved from city to city while homeless, the feeling of loneliness weighed down his shoulders. It was different now. The group was loud, lively and definitely weird down to the bone. The ratman was occasionally scouting ahead with the aid of Varhel. The old man got on his knees twice an hour and did some strange spells that Ehrir couldn¡¯t understand. The Undone One didn¡¯t receive an explanation about it, but it probably was feral magic or something in that vein.


    The group stopped for a quick lunch along the way, but after that they moved until sunset. During this time the fields steadily gave place to an area filled with hills and bushes. It was a gloomy, lifeless place. That made it safe enough for a setting a camp without the need for the guards to watch over during the whole night.


    The dinner wasn¡¯t too fascinating. Two pieces of grilled meat with a piece of bread was nothing compared to the delicious meals back at the Archipelago of Claws. Yet, Ehrir hadn¡¯t forgotten the days where his meals consisted of half-rotten rubbish. He was thankful for what he had now. It was more than enough. Except for the sleeping space.


    The sleeping space¡­ It wasn¡¯t nearly enough. The group had a limited number of tents available and the Undone One had to sleep in the same one as Varhel, the albino and the young man with the brands. The four of them were a weird bunch, especially when they prepared to sleep. The strange symbols upon Ehrir¡¯s chest, combined with the scars on his abdomen and the Brands on his palms made him no more ordinary than the rest of the men around him. Given the circumstances, the fact he was an Undone One was quickly revealed and everyone in the travelling party knew by the next morning. Yet, they didn¡¯t seem to care ¨C all of them were weirdos already and they welcomed him as an equal. He still preferred to wear one of his trusty pairs of gloves, though.


    There was no time for training with magic during those first days of the group¡¯s travels and Ehrir didn¡¯t have the chance to further refine his skills. On the better side of things, he got to quickly befriend Salelia¡¯s apprentices, especially Zaster. The undead man had a quirky sense of humor, if anything, and his comrades liked him a lot. It was strange for the soul and heart of their company to be a living, walking corpse¡­ But his jokes were seriously good, no doubt about that. He acted in a relaxed way when surrounded by his fellow disciples and his words about not being able to communicate with outsiders could be easily forgotten.


    Steadily and over the course of half a week, the hills gave place to thicker and thicker forests. They were different from those that the Undone One was accustomed with. With conifers nowhere to be seen, tall and graceful deciduous trees reigned. It was still too early for them to shed their leaves, but the oaks, willows and beeches had already turned into a blurs of warm orange, yellow and red. There were animals of all kinds lurking around, in sharp contrast to the fields that the travelling party left behind their backs. Squirrels, different birds and insects could be seen at any time and even wild boars and bears showed up from regularly. Yet, no animal dared to attack such a big group of people, and even the pack of wolves they encountered once turned away quickly when met with such a threatening sight. Still, the soldiers now guarded the tents at night. The dark hours ¨C still getting longer and longer ¨C were usually filled with howls and other unpleasant sounds.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Occasionally the group encountered some ruin or remnant from another time while advancing through the forests. It wasn¡¯t anything big in most cases ¨C just a wall made from ancient cobblestone and covered with moss, or the fundamentals of a tower or building long since gone. As they got closer and closer to the mountain range marking the horizon, the ruins started to appear more and more often. Ehrir had never seen such things in his homelands, which felt almost hollow in their lack of historical evidence outside of books and scrolls. Yet, even this remote chunks of the south were¡­ Full of history, of unspoken tales and unsung songs. The Undone One quickly learned (both through the old man and the other disciples) that many wars were waged in these parts. Dozens ofkingdoms had risen and fallen amongst the very same forests that Ehrir roamed now. The place was abandoned primarily because of the more fertile soil in the valleys on the other side of the mountains.


    If these calm forests were filled with so much history, what would the Inner Fantasy look like? That question slowly grew inside Ehrir¡¯s mind until he decided to ask the other people in the group.


    The answer of everyone was pretty similar.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t been there, but they say that it is spectacular¡±, they told him.


    The only one in the whole party that had visited it was the one born there ¨C Salelia. The Undone One questioned her while they were traversing the forest.


    ¡°Oh¡­ That¡¯s an interesting thing to talk about¡­ What was your name?¡± Her sweet voice echoed around and drowned in the other conversations that the surrounding apprentices were having.


    ¡°Ehrir¡±, uttered the Undone One quietly while trying to look away. It was too easy to get lost in the sorceress¡¯ hypnotizing beauty.


    ¡°Good. Ehrir, although I¡¯m born in the Inner Fantasy, I spent only the first fifteen years of my life there. My memories of it are mostly vague and I haven¡¯t seen nearly all of that strange and wonderful land. But if I have to summarize what I have experienced there¡­ It¡¯s fascinating. That place is riddled with so much history, cultures, religions and magic that it can be overwhelming if you ever get to see it yourself. It¡¯s like¡­ Ah, it¡¯s hard to put into words. I think that one of the more famous magicians from the last centuries presents it in the best possible way. In a scroll describing the geography of the Inner Fantasy, he says: Every pebble in this realm has seen more wars than any man can see in a lifetime. Every mountain has been shook numerous times by events so massive and tremendous that us mortals probably can¡¯t even begin to imagine them in their full scope. Every meadow is covered with bones and ruins from countless civilizations dot the landscape. Beneath every town there are remnants of other cities, millennia older than the current ones. This place¡­ It undoubtedly is the center of the world and the civilization as we know it. My quotation isn¡¯t exact¡­ But you get it, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Ehrir slowly nodded. The witch¡¯s words were poetic to the point where he could barely understand some of them because she spoke in the southern tongue. But even so¡­ They were beautiful and created a vibrant, moving picture of the Inner Fantasy in his mind. There were still mysteries about the legendary realm that he longed to know the answer of... But he didn''t ask the witch. The answers could wait.


    And while the group was getting closer and closer to the mountains (known as ''The Hundred Daggers'''')the forests were becoming harder and harder to navigate. It got to the point where they couldn''t go forth without using magic to clear the way. Fortunately, the trees easily split before the combination of Manipulation and instant Destruction that the group used.


    And then they reached the lower parts of the mountains. At that point their relatively safe journey... changed, to say the least.

 Interlude - Unexpected News

    "I never managed to understand how the hierarchy amongst of the Changelings managed to work for this many millenia... It seems that the High Lord and his council of elders think of the others from their kin as simple peasants. And the Changelings act like ones in the presence of their leaders. It''s confusing, to say the least."


    Excerpt from an unsigned scroll, belonging to one of the Inner Fantasy''s royal dynasties


    ***


    Rehlin the Seventhborn, High Lord of all Changelings, dined under the light of stars from eras long since gone. Captured in ancient crystals in times before the goliaths¡¯ birth, they were now part of the chandeliers in his palace. Each crystal costed more than a whole village in the Outer Fantasy, but nothing in the world produced such hypnotic, warm and deeply fulfilling light. They were worth it.


    The High Lord ate the best food avilable. His meal consisted of many kinds of meat, vegetables and fish, suited for kings and master sorcerers of the highest echelons of the world. He drank pale purple wine made of the fruits of one of the rarest trees in the whole Inner Fantasy. Rehlin loved this luxurious way of life that he led for almost three centuries now. As the leader of all amongst his kin, he was not only rich, but immensely powerful. All the Changelings in the world ¨C almost three thousand men and women, most of them over one hundred years old ¨C were to abide by his commands according to the ancient traditions. Those were set by the Firstborn himself long ago, while the old man was in his prime. Back then his rule seemed eternal and even those that arose directly after him were almost servants, not to mention those like Rehlin. He was part of the second generation of Changelings. The Seventhborn hated these times and scorned his memories of them, trying to hide them as deeply as possible. Back then he was like a commoner in the face of leader of his kind, despite being the seventh one ever. He shook his head and made the unpleasant thoughts disappear with a large sip from his goblet of wine. The alcohol''s sweet taste was getting too boring after three decades of drinking it. Maybe he could switch to something harder from now on?


    The dining hall in his palace was enormous and fascinating in its sheer size, more akin to that of a cathedral. His whole palace was no smaller than a military fortress, which was rare even amongst the biggest kingdoms and states of the Inner Fantasy. But it was understandable, given the fact that it was build during the Firstborn''s reign. And he was a megalomaniac in the purest sense of the word. His titanic residence was occupying half the city it was in. Its dozens of towers pierced the skies like the spears of some army of granite and marble. The few hundred houses next to it were like ants in the feet of a giant. A large part of those dwellings were unpopulated most of the time. The city had no permanent residents, except for its ruler, the council of the Elder Changelings and all the servants surrounding this small group. Hundreds of other mages that served them came and went by, using the houses as their temporary homes. Those men and women rarely came to see Rehlin himself. In the eyes of most the Seventhborn was too important to communicate with some lowly magicians.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    And yet someone arrived while he dined and went as far to go into the hall while the High Lord was enjoying a finely-made dessert. The guest wasn¡¯t anyone of spectacular importance, either ¨C just a man dressed in plain and simple travelling attire. There was a badge on his cloak marking him as a messenger of a greater power. Only this saved him from being kicked out by the pair of heavily armed men guarding the door.


    ¡°What do you want, commoner?¡± asked the Seventhborn, giving his voice additional depth and power with magic.


    The messenger instantly fell on his knees and let his head touch the ground.


    ¡°I greet you, Rehlin the Seventhborn, High Lord of all Changelings. I am honored to be in your presence."


    "I hereby accept your greeting", replied the ancient wizard in a serious and yet annoyed way. Those greeting were boring, but also a tradition. "You can freely roam my palace and seek refuge in my lands. On whose behalf are you here?"


    "I''m sent by the Great Master of the Assassins'' Guild of Tarha-Nan, a city state of the Outer Fantasy." The man''s forehead was still in solid touch with the mosaic marble floor.


    Rehlin''s face twisted from confusion, but he managed to hide it quickly enough.


    "What would some guild leader from a place such as this want to do with me?" There was mockery in his voice but no hostility.


    "He says it''s for your eyes and ears only." The messenger''s tone remained as respective as before. "I''ve brought a magical device with me. I can''t use it, but I''m sure that you know what it is."


    "Of course, of course." Rehlin stood up slowly and walked to the kneeling man. "Get up and give me the item. You can go and rest afterwards. I won''t be in need of you."


    The messenger nodded while mumbling some words of praise and took out a simple stone disk with a metal piece within its center. It was rintium - the Seventhborn recognised it instantly. He took it slowly from the man''s opened arms and thanked him coldly before letting him leave under the guards'' cautious gaze. After a minute the High Lord himself left, too, but he went in the opposite direction - towards the terrace of the dining hall.


    The vast balcony had a mosaic floor creating an image of the Firstborn in his full glory - clad in red rintium armor from head to toe. He had a sword of lightning in his hand and a mantle of white flames. It was a respect-inducing sight. The rails around it were richly covered in engravings. From this balcony one could see the entire city beneath. It was protected by high rocky cliffs from almost all sides.


    The High Lord stood there all alone with his hand on the stone disk. The device had a simple magical mechanism of Control. It could be easily unlocked by someone with the Seventhborn''s knowledge. He did it immediately, and the message within - recorded through Creation - started playing. But the voice speaking was far, far too familiar.


    By the end of the message, Rehlin''s expression had changed tremendously. And he, the ruler of the Changelings whose capital wasn''t attacked since the Ascension Crisis, felt deeply terrified. He, who could lead thousands of sorcerers to war with ease, trembled and was covered in cold sweat.


    "Absurd..." He mumbled. And yet... It was possible. He gritted his teeth in despair. The first generation was alive...Fucking alive!He gasped for air. Somehow he had dropped the stone disk. "Farnaraen, you old bastard... How did you survive?"

 Chapter 31 - Things Lurking in the Snow

    ¡°How the hell did it get so cold in just two days, anyways?¡±


    ¡°Because of the elevation. Probably. We are pretty high now when compared to those forests.¡±


    ¡°But we aren¡¯t even past the lower parts of the mountains yet. All of this snow so suddenly¡­ Not natural, I tell you.¡±


    ¡°Stop questioning nature, okay? Shit just happens. It¡¯s not like we can do anything ¡®bout it.¡± The undead man''s voice didn''t sound very enthusiastic.


    Ehrir shot a sharp glance at the albino and Zaster. Their senseless argument had turned the otherwise calm walk into an annoyance of phenomenal proportions. The root of it, as in most bad and boring discussions, lied in the weather.


    It was somewhat crazy in the last couple of days. It was lightly snowing for hours on end. The nights were starless, frigid and ridiculously dark. There was some kind of heavy atmosphere haunting the air, although everyone was calm and relatively happy, albeit worn-out and tired by the long days of travelling. The old man and Salelia planned to stay in the mountains and rest for a little while once the group got a little bit higher. Yet the progress through the chaotic landscape of hills, cliffs and forests was significantly slowed by the snowfall. Today it got to the point where the two leaders of the party discussed whether or not they should try to change their path or set up a more temporary camp.


    In the south such amounts of snow were surprising for this time of the year, even in the lower parts of the mountains. Nalia was surprised by It. And that spoke volumes.


    ¡°See, this just doesn¡¯t feel right¡± she told him the previous morning after throwing a quick curse towards her horse for not being fast enough. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s common in your homelands¡­ Hell, it sure is, you¡¯ve told me that already.¡±


    In contrast to the others among the group, the Undone One felt the whitened, chilly surroundings as suiting and ordinary. He was used to long, unforgiving winters. He almost died because of the coldness of the nights when he was homeless. That happened numerous times, too. His toes still bore the scars caused by the few times when he got frostbitten. But even with all his experiences with frigidness and cold, he still was surprised by the current situstion and could barely stand it in his fur cloak.


    That was yesterday. Today he was dressed better and warmer. The others were, too, and that made them talkative and helped to remain in high spirits. It probably did its fair share for the talk between Zaster and the albino to start in the first place.


    Ehrir continued walking forward, his mind full of vague thoughts and chaotic memories playing in no particular order. This continued for well past an hour. Meanwhile his legs sank deeper and deeper into the growing layer of snow. When the group finally stopped for lunch, the Undone One was already pretty tired and a bleak expression hanged on his face. The others weren¡¯t looking much better ¨C the smiles and cheerful voices from the morning were gone, replaced with dark grimaces and low, half-mumbled whispers. The weather was lowering their mood significantly. They ate in silence that created an oppressive sensation in Ehrir¡¯s soul. No one really wanted to continue the journey until the early winter befallen the land went away. Salelia and Sevrian saw that wish easily and proceeded to go for a walk while discussing something in low voices. The Undone One and the others were left alone in their tents with pieces of cold dried meat, fish and black bread. The slices of salmon were so thickly covered in salt in order to be preserved that even a few bites managed to open cracks on the people''s lips. Except for Zaster, of course ¨C the undead didn¡¯t feel any kind of hunger. His body (understandably) didn¡¯t desire food, either. He was easily compensated by the guards ¨C each of them could easily devour a whole bread and a dozen pieces of meat. It was understandable ¨C almost all of them were big, heavy-built muscular men, except for one who was skinny and short, but compensated for this with his precise marksmanship. Still, the way they destroyed the group¡¯s supplies was worrying. The older sorcerers could always make some food with Manipulation, but Ehrir heard that such a meal had a terrifying taste, to say the least. Varhel just shook his head in a grim manner when somebody mentioned it, and the albino¡¯s clean face, usually lighter than a birch¡¯s bark, became almost grey.


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky that you haven¡¯t tasted it¡±, he hissed while shaking his head. ¡°It usually looks delicious, but it¡¯s no better than a handful of dirt once you put it in your mouth. I had to endure about two weeks of just that when I was younger. I thought abandoning the whole group after it all¡­ Slitting my throat is a better option compared to experiencing it again.¡± His words were clearly exaggerated. Tethering, his face was also far from cheery.


    Quietly and almost without anyone noticing, the lunch turned into a slow crawl of time through the afternoon. There wasn¡¯t even a hint of continuing to travel again. After a couple of hours the old man and the witch arrived from their walk. When the two announced that the group won¡¯t go anywhere more for the day, smiles bloomed again on the faces of the disciples, and a very happy kind of curse left Nalia¡¯s lips. Even the guards with their stone-carved faces smirked a little upon hearing the news. They still had to watch over the tents during the night, but the tiresomeness from the long hours of walking before it were spared.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The bright hoursquickly went by and faded away into nothingness, leaving a heavy curtain of snow-filled darkness to cover the world. To make a fire out in the open wasn¡¯t anywhere near possible, mainly due to the unforgiving winds. Instead, a ball of warm magical light was made in every tent in The camp.They were produced by Sevrian and gave off immense amounts of warmth, although the old man mentioned that it isn¡¯t easy to hold a large numbers of the things up persistently. With them the group didn¡¯t have the need of a fire. The dinner consisted of the usual cold meat.


    It was hard for Ehrir to sleep during that night, regardless of his wish to do so. Nobody in his tent was truly tired. On top of that they were all curious or energetic (or both) and made enough noise to distract the Undone One from reaching the dreamlands he longed for. The bright rays of the light source didn¡¯t made it any easier. When the branded youngling took out a deck of cards around midnight and started playing with Varhel, Ehrir just got up and joined in, too. The others quickly explained him the rules, but that didn¡¯t made him much better at it. At least they didn¡¯t bet large sums of money¡­ For about an hour, at least.


    On the morning ¨C the cold light hurt Ehrir¡¯s unrestful eyes ¨C he was poorer with a whole damned handful of silver coins. The albino (his name was Grion or something in that vein), who didn¡¯t participate in the card game, just looked at the Undone One''s bitter expression with a subtle grin.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, man.¡± A copper coin was dancing between his fingers. ¡°I¡¯ll buy you a drink or two when we get to an inhabited place, I promise. You deserve this much for your bravery¡­ Seriously, though, don¡¯t play against this guy anymore.¡± He nodded sharply towards the branded boy, who smiled as an answer. ¡°He¡¯s either cheating or is abnormally good. I couldn¡¯t beat him¡­ And I cheat, too.¡±


    The last line made his grin go away, replaced by a face showing tarnished pride and envy.


    ¡°I don¡¯t cheat, you blockhead.¡± The boy¡¯s scars and brands twisted because of his playful smirk. ¡°You just don¡¯t play good enough, even with cheating. I can teach you, though.¡±


    ¡°That would be like stepping on my pride with a pair of iron-clad boots, you weirdo.¡± The albino¡¯s words were full of cheerfulness despite their offensive tone.


    The two of them continued to argue and insult one another in a friendly way while breakfast lasted. The party wasn¡¯t planning to go anywhere today, either, although the snowfall had slowed down significantly. Everyone could enjoy a long and lazy morning.


    Still, the leaders of the group wanted to investigate the surrounding area, but the guards were too few to quickly walk search it in bigger groups. The apprentices had to step in, Ehrir included. Sevrian himself came to bring them the news and assign them into trios and duos. There was at least one defender in addition to every one of those amateur scout gangs. Ehrir got together with Zaster and the branded boy, along with a bearded, clad in leather guard with dirty, long grey cloak and worn-out battle axe. He didn¡¯t really talk much, except for a cold welcome and a few short words of advice before they left the camp. From then on he communicated mostly through sudden gestures and low, animalistic grunts.


    The area around the tents was a deserted, sad-looking place. The sudden snowfall had made the leaves of the trees fall off in the course of a couple of days, marking the white veil covering the earth with a stains of orange and red. It was as if the ground was bleeding onto the snow mantle above. An unsettling thought, but the sight was strangely beautiful, nonetheless.


    The Undone One and his comrades had to cover a distance of roughly thousand steps east. For the first half of it there was nothing spectacular to be seen. Only the landscape got more and more rocky, with high cliffs, steep hills and deep ravines making it harder to navigate. Then things changed.


    There was some kind of aura in the part of the forest they stepped into after the halfway mark. It wasn''t a pleasant aura, either. Some undefined kind of threat lurking around made Ehrir''s hair stand up. There weren''t any actual signs of such a thing - no marks in the snow or on the nearby trees, no corpses of animals gutted and laying around. Even the small stream they encountered flowed crystal clear and icy cold.


    "There is... I can''t put it into words. A vague, unnatural sensation, let''s say." Zaster looked around, his face devoid of emotion. Even the guard gazed at the environment while steadily holding his axe. The branded boy didn''t utter a word, but his expression was worth a whole scroll.


    ***


    It came from the bushes unexpectedly and after a couple of minutes. It was a somewhat humanoid silhouette with thick white pelt covered in small but numerous brown and black markings. Its claws - as long as an opened male''s palm - were drippling in blood after just a second. It ran off with spectacular speed and its prey in hands and was nowhere to be seen after a blink of an eye.


    Ehrir felt the color leaving his face and every muscle twisted by his shocked expression.


    "Shit...", the guard managed to muster before falling in the snow. His right arm was missing. It was replaced a wound from which blood gushed out. It painted the ground beneath him in a wine-like, intense color.

 Chapter 32 - A Crypt

    ¡°It¡¯s of no use¡­ He¡¯s dead. Get that off of him... It doesn¡¯t need to get wetter than it already is.¡±


    ¡°The whole of it is soaked in blood¡­ It would be useless.¡±


    ¡°Then leave it here, for hell¡¯s sake¡­ I don¡¯t care. We have to get out of here as fast we can.¡±


    At that moment the branded boy dared to intervene in the talk that went on between Zaster and Ehrir.


    ¡°But¡­ We can¡¯t just leave his corpse like that.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have time to bury him¡±, Zaster uttered while looking around cautiously. He then sighed. The sound came out sore and incredibly deep. ¡°Fine¡­ I¡¯ll burn him. The whole area is damp enough to not be damaged. I¡¯ll extinguish it quickly, too. Now¡­ Step back, please.¡±


    Ehrir followed the Unliving¡¯s command without a second thought. He felt empty when looking at the dead guard laying on the ground in front of him. The Undone One and his companions tried to stop the bleeding from the severed arm. Within moments they found out that the creature had cut deeply into the man''s neck and penetrated his lower back with one of its claws. The wounds were far too severe to be helped by the primitive tourniquets and bandages made from the undead man''s cloak. It took just a few minutes for the guard¡¯s expression to freeze, for his sharp, painful breathing to stop and for his eyes to become glassy. He was perfectly still now. Dead.


    The Undone One felt tears welling up on the edges of his eyes. The pace of his heart fastened. The adrenaline helped him stay relatively calm while trying to tend to the man¡¯s wounds, but now every trace of it was gone. The corpse invoked powerful disgust and fear within him, and the pool of blood that had formed around it just added greatly to these sensations. Ehrir turned to the side. He couldn¡¯t endure the mess that danced within his stomach and vomited loudly. That removed the heaviness in his gut, at least. The branded boy seemed pale and weak, too, but was far from the Undone One¡¯s situation. Zaster, on the other hand, wasn''t particularly moved by the event, although it was hard to tell the Unliving¡¯s emotions by his dried and rotten face. In any case, his movements were calm and steady. He effortlessly managed to create a whirl of fire and let it engulf the guard¡¯s body. He also showed profound control over the flames. Ehrir could only watch as the dead man burned to ashes without the fire touching anything in the vicinity. Zaster''s control over Destruction (that was wild and uncontainable by its nature) was phenomenal and hinted toward immense talent in that field of sorcery. Ehrir couldn¡¯t show his admiration towards the zombie ¨C it posed as an enough of a difficulty to just try and stand up front and not throw up ¨C but he had a lot of it.


    When Zaster was done with his job, the whistling winds started scattering the ashes of the deceased man, leaving only the huge stain of blood in the half-melted snow. The Unliving left the remainder of his soaked cloak to be eaten by the flames, too. Now he wore only a fur shirt and pants with ankle-high leather boots. He seemed pretty comfortable in that attire, too.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go¡±, he mumbled with a stale, serious tone before starting to lead them through the forests and back west towards the camp. All three of the disciples were silent, their eyes constantly moving in an attempt to catch every little movement in the environment. Ehrir¡¯s hand was gripping the hilt of the ¡®frigid blade¡¯ unconfidently. The youngling in front of him (his name was Nidor) had his own weapon ¨C a double-edged short sword with simple handle and small guard. He was holding it in his right hand and looked ready to use it. The axe belonging to the dead guard was hanging on his waist. That made Zaster the only one amongst them without any weapon on him, not even a knife. The Unliving man was relying solely on his Destruction magic and quick reflexes for protection against whatever roamed the woods.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure that¡­ Whatever it was, it won¡¯t come again. It behaved like an animal¡­ Out of hunger, to put it simply. Now that it has a piece of meat to feast on, it should stay occupied for some time", mentioned Zaster. His words were hopeful, but uttered in a very grim manner.


    ¡°What will we say once we get back to the camp?¡± Ehrir almost whispered. He still felt dizzy and disgusted, but at least had regained some of his spirit.


    ¡°We must urge the masters to come and investigate¡­ And kill this fucking thing!¡± Nidor exclaimed, his words hateful down to their core. ¡°It slaughtered one of us¡­ We can¡¯t just let it live on¡±, he added in a more balanced way.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have the say about whether we should chase the creature or not.¡± Zaster shook his head. ¡°Although I¡¯m all in about burning it to ashes. Or slicing its head off, for that matter.¡±


    The three men didn¡¯t say a word afterwards. Not until the expanse of the quiet forests, cliffs, gorges and ravines were behind their backs and the familiar tents lied before their eyes. Only one lonely guard could be seen patrolling around, covered in his fur cloak from head to toe. Even the horses were crammed up in a separate tent. It was quiet enough for the Undone One to clearly sense that he and his companions were the first group to return.


    ¡°You¡¯re coming pretty early¡±, said the crude-looking, raw-sounding man that watched over the camp. ¡°Why is it only you three? Where is¡­¡±


    Zaster stopped the guard''s words with a sharp and clear gesture.


    ¡°We can¡¯t talk about it right now. We need to discuss something with the masters right now. Where are they?¡±


    ¡°Only the mistress is here.¡± The man waved his hand towards Salelia¡¯s tent. ¡°She¡¯s in there. The master¡­ He went off to somewhere.¡± He shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Dunno where.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll see her.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Is the tea any good?¡± asked Salelia. She was sitting on a Manipulation-made chair right beside the sphere of raging blue fire that heated the tent. The tea that she served the three disciples was made thanks to that ball of flames and helped them warm up quickly. They would be fine even without the steaming cups full of liquid. After all, the innards of the tent were hot enough for the witch to walk around in just a knee-length dress that left her pale shoulders bare.


    ¡°It''s delicious¡±, Nidor answered. He, Ehrir and Zaster were sitting on the floor with their cups in hands, their cloaks, coats and weapons resting besides them. ¡°But as I said, mistress, we have to¡­¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Despite her soft, reassuring tone, the witch looked serious and dark. Understandably, she wasn¡¯t pleased with the news at all. Not just the guard¡¯s death, but also the appearance of the strange creature itself made her seem unhappy. ¡°We¡¯ll go there, young men. But you need to be well-rested, dry and calm if you think you can help me. Speaking of which¡­¡± Her beautiful eyes slowly crawled across the faces of the three disciples before her. ¡°If you all want to go, I won¡¯t stop you. But you should know that I can handle this matter myself. I only need one of you to show me the way. The others can rest here and regain their strength. That is up to you, though.¡±


    The apprentices looked at each other with several seconds. The same fire burned in the eyes of each one of them, even in Ehrir¡¯s. Zaster voiced their collective, unspoken will.


    ¡°Mistress¡­ Thanks for the offer, but we would all like to come and help you.¡±


    The witch smiled sweetly at the undead man¡¯s words.


    ¡°Very well, then. Drink your tea while I go out and inform the others that I¡¯ll be heading out to the woods.¡±


    With these words the mistress stood up and headed towards the exit. But before she left, she turned her head towards the apprentices and shot them with a smile.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, boys¡±, she gently murmured. ¡°We¡¯ll take the threat down ¨C and avenge one unnecessary death. For sure.¡±


    ***


    The walk back through the mountains was just as tough as the previous time, although the witch made it seem like a jog through an empty street. The snow around her just opened and her step was graceful, light and calm, in contrast with the three men in front of her that pushed on with difficulty. They asked her to walk in front of them at one point, but then noticed that the snow closed right after she walked through it.


    Once the group reached the part of the forest where the guard met his death, the ominous atmosphere returned with full force. Yet, Salelia didn¡¯t seem to be influenced by it in the slightest. She walked with straight posture and calm expression. She seemed emotionless upon seeing the pool of blood left by the corpse. Only quiet specks of anger flashed in her eyes.


    "After me", the witch commanded and started to lead the three men.


    The next half an hour were spent lurking around the woods silently and carefully. The group desperately searched for the creature, chasing after barely visible marks in the snow and investigating every sound. All of this - to no avail. Until they found the door.


    It was made of solid basalt, plain, clean and simple, built in the side of a narrow hill. It looked like planned to not stick out within the relatively rocky environment. Yet, its deep grey color made it distinguishable amongst the snow like an infected tooth amongst healthy ones. The fact that it was slightly ajar didn''t help, either.


    As the witch and the disciples neared it, they saw a thin frame around the door upon which were enscribed words in Emhaelic.


    Salelia began reading it aloud.


    "Here lie the members of the Five-Headed Dragon clan of nobles, descendants of the Third dynasty of Kalieri kings." Her voice had some unexpected excitement to it. "Oh, a crypt. And one so remote, at that. It must be vast and deep, considering it''s holding generations of nobles inside. The perfect place for the type of creature described by you." She forced the door open without much of a struggle. "Come with me, young men. And ready your weapons."


    Ehrir, Nidor and the undead man followed her in silence and into the dusty womb of the forgotten crypt. And so they descended into the darkness.

 Chapter 33 - Beneath the Forests

    The air in the tomb was even colder than outside, but unmoving and incredibly dry and dusty. It was a pain to walk through the forgotten halls. Coughing was inevitable even when Ehrir covered his mouth and nose with his cloak. The place was also so dark that the column of light made by Salelia couldn¡¯t illuminate further than a dozen steps ahead of the group.


    The crypt itself definitely lived up to the expectations created by the pompous words decorating its doorframe. The three men and the witch spent a few minutes just basking at the sheer size of the first hall, lying beyond a small flight of stairs. It wasn¡¯t much taller than an ordinary room, but at least a hundred steps wide and twice as long. A few dozens of simple granite sarcophagi with only one name engraved upon them were located within it.


    ¡°Here probably lie the lowest amongst the clan¡¯s ranks¡±, remarked the witch with teaching tone while they navigated through the coffins. ¡°They are untouched by that creature solely because its sense of smell is advanced enough to tell in which sarcophagus there are only bones and in which ones there are¡­ Well, mummies.¡±


    ¡°And what do they do with those mummies?¡± Nidor seemed deeply disgusted. Ehrir shared his feelings.


    ¡°They eat them. Although the one living here has probably already devoured whatever dried flesh and skin is left on the dead¡­ And eaten its own children and partner, if there were ones present when it arrived in the crypt.¡± Salelia shook her head. ¡°Those things ¨C they are called grave robbers, believe it or not ¨C are incredibly nasty. Most of them have a spark of magical capabilities, too, so changing the color of their fur is an easy task.¡±


    Her description of the thing that had killed the guard only made the three apprentices more cautious and gloomy. Little sparks curled around Zaster¡¯s fingers, Nidor held his sword while Ehrir readied his magical energy to empower his own weapon. Yet, the witch remained calm as if she was strolling through a dining hall in some palace. Her current attire, containing black fur coat and high boots, looked both practical and warm but also very elegant. She acted both proud and as if not noticing her own strange and yet alluring beauty. That contrasted sharply with the worn-out, ancient environment around her.


    Ehrir¡¯s brows furrowed. The Undone One shook his head and tried to stop thinking about Salelia.


    From the hall filled with sarcophagi began several corridors, all leading to smaller rooms. There were only a dozen of big marble coffins in each one of them, mostly covered in angular ornaments. The group inspected them closely, but they were all undamaged, except for one. It bore big, crude markings of claws upon its sides.


    ¡°This one¡­ It hasn¡¯t been opened for a lot of time¡±, quietly spoke Zaster while touching the sarcophagus¡¯ lid with his fingers. ¡°The layer of dust is too thick for it to have been.¡±


    ¡°The grave robber probably used it to mark this place as its territory¡±, explained the witch. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be interested in the skeletons inside. We should go at least a couple of floors deeper to reach the parts of the tomb where the mummies lie.¡±


    The group continued descending, finding new halls and a flight of stairs that led them into the crypt¡¯s second level. Slowly the tomb¡¯s rooms got smaller and smaller, holding only two people at most. Different niches in the walls appeared, too. In them rested a wide variety of treasures, such as necklaces, rings or small jewels. Nobody in the group dared to touch them ¨C they had some respect towards the dead. Even Zaster didn¡¯t lay a finger on anything, although he ironically remarked that a corpse stealing from corpses isn¡¯t really a sin or a crime.


    There were a lot more signs of the grave robber on this floor, including marks on the walls, heavy stink of an animal in the air and dozens of gnawed bones laying on the floor. Some of them were cracked or covered in holes made by sharp, pointy teeth.


    The disciples focused on their surroundings with utmost attention and followed their mistress almost subconsciously. Ehrir felt both uneasiness and relief when they finally stumbled across the stairs to the third level without encountering the beast.


    The lower floor contained vast rooms that held only one sarcophagus each ¨C massive, made from black marble and covered in intertwining, elegant ornaments. The faces and names of the ones inside were engraved upon them. In these coffins rested the clan¡¯s elite ¨C elders, leaders, innovators and those closest to the monarchs of the kingdom. Their graves were undoubtedly beautiful in their design ¨C from the masterfully-made coffins to the soft architecture of the rooms. Yet, they weren¡¯t pretty now, just utterly devastated.


    Broken lids, cracked sarcophagi and walls damaged by claws marked this level. The niches in the walls dedicated to treasures for the dead were devoid of anything but feces.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°Damn¡­ That dust wasn¡¯t enough, apparently. We have to deal with this shit now¡­¡± murmured Nidor under his breath. His face was twisted from disgust.


    ¡°Well, comrades¡­ There are a lot of advantages about being an Unliving, you see¡­¡± Zaster said mockingly while pointing at his missing nose. His line lightened the atmosphere a little, but didn¡¯t make anyone in the group any less focused.


    It was a chore to carefully roam through the third level, especially with the different unpleasant smells mixing up in the air. Yet, there wasn¡¯t a sign of the grave robber itself, not a sound, even.


    ¡°The only place left to search through in this whole crypt should be the halls where the clan heads were laid to rest¡­¡± Salelia¡¯s smile was slowly dissipating and her words weren¡¯t cheery and encouraging as before. ¡°It probably has sensed that we are near¡­ Make a circle formation. Quickly. I¡¯ll join in, too. Additionally, let your magic energy fill you.¡±


    Zaster and the branded boy reacted instantaneously and by instinct. It was obvious that they had a lot of experience when it came to battling under Salelia¡¯s command. Ehrir showed coordination and understanding to a much lower level than his comrades and it took him some unnecessary seconds to prepare and take position. Still, he was in the formation mere moments after the others.


    ¡°Now¡­¡± The witch¡¯s voice, despite its softness and girliness, was now serious and with a darker tone. ¡°Move slowly while rotating and be ready to attack or counterattack at any moment. Maybe the grave robber isn¡¯t here after all, but we should check every corner of the tomb. The lowest level included.¡±


    The apprentices only nodded, each one seeming nervous and on his toes. They started moving according to the mistress¡¯ commands, coordinating each other¡¯s movements. Around them the crypt was silent, sending ghastly echoes of their every step. The corridors in these parts had high roofs and every sound resonated, coming back deep and powerful. These halls would be peaceful and invoking respect within the Undone One if it wasn¡¯t for the damage delivered by the grave robber. The idea that people were willing to build such colossal underground palaces for just a bunch of corpses was both shocking and awe-inspiring for him. So many resources were wasted just for this crypt alone that it felt insulting at first. How many such structures just lied scattered across the mountains and forests, holding corpses with forgotten names inside of their stone wombs?


    The thoughts flashed through Ehrir¡¯s mind, but he pushed them out aggressively and concentrated. His attention got even sharper once another flight of stairs appeared before him. It was wide wide and dusty, with a lot of fresh marks from footsteps. Salelia smiled slightly when she saw them.


    ¡°Well, I guess our target is down there. Let me make a shield.¡±


    After these words a shining, spherical and half-transparent force field engulfed the four people. They still remained in formation, obeying the witch, and moved within the shield with steady pace, descending onto the lowest level in the crypt.


    They found themselves in a long, wide corridor with richly engraved walls. They were partially destroyed by the grave robber, their beauty simply devastated by both time itself and the creature¡¯s claws. The footsteps in the dust were even more visible here. The group of sorcerers traced them to the end of the corridor, where a massive metal door stood and wait as some silent guardian. It was covered in rust and Ehrir could barely distinguish the clan¡¯s insignia on it. It was widely open, revealing an ocean of darkness lurking beyond its frame. Salelia made the ball of light get bigger and shine brighter, but it could only illuminate parts of the hall¡¯s floor in front of them. Ehrir felt the cold, heavy air rushing towards him as he stepped inside.


    And then came the howls. At least three, high and aggressive shrieks pierced the Undone One¡¯s ears and echoed around. Nidor cursed aloud upon hearing them, and Zaster let two balls of flame form above his palms. Ehrir got nervous, too, his magical energy rushing in and activating the sword¡¯s passive spell, covering it in frost. Salelia didn¡¯t do anything, only twitched her lips a little.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let yourselves get nervous, young men.¡± Her tone was confident and warm. ¡°Advance ahead slowly. It looks like there is more than just one grave robber here, but it doesn¡¯t matter. The shield will stop them all.¡±


    Ehrir could only nod silently to the sorceress¡¯ words. And obey them.


    ***


    ¡°They seem hungry¡±, mentioned Zaster in a gravely manner.


    ¡°Oh, they sure are.¡± Salelia¡¯s face was calm and emotionless as that of a stone statue. ¡°Just one arm wouldn¡¯t have been enough for everyone. The male is probably the only robber that ate and even he hasn¡¯t satisfied his hunger completely, if that is the case.¡±


    Ehrir swallowed. There were three beasts surrounding the shield ¨C one male, one female and their child ¨C smaller, but by no means prettier than its parents. The creatures were clawing at the magical membrane, but couldn¡¯t manage to damage it even a little bit. A couple of minutes had passed since they had first arrived, but yet no action was taken by the witch to kill them.


    The Undone One couldn¡¯t wait any longer and spoke up after the undead man and his mistress exchanged thought about the beasts¡¯ hunger.


    ¡°Mistress¡­ What are we waiting for?¡±


    Salelia¡¯s expression turned to a slight smile, but there was no happiness in it.


    ¡°I¡¯m just giving you time to prepare.¡±


    ¡°Time to¡­ prepare?¡±


    At this moment Zaster cussed.


    ¡°Oh, shit¡­¡± he mumbled. ¡°I forgot to mention it¡­¡±


    ¡°You forgot to mention what?¡± Ehrir suddenly got a bad feeling in his gut.


    ¡°You came with me, so you¡¯ve agreed to fight for me, in one way or another¡±, answered the witch instead of Zaster. ¡°Take it as a form of a test or field practice. If things get bad, I¡¯ll eliminate the grave robbers, so don¡¯t worry. But I would like for you¡­ To fight and kill them without my aid.¡±

 Chapter 34 - Skills in Combat

    Ehrir cursed out loud. He cursed the grave robbers, but inwardly directed the cusses towards the witch and her stupid idea about ¡®test of skills''... And towards Zaster for not telling him about this whole ordeal.


    The Undone One gripped the handle of his magical blade even tighter than before. His unleashed energy made the layer of frost covering the cold steel become thicker and give off steam. He swallowed and tried to gather enough confidence to speak up.


    ¡°When shall we begin?¡± he managed to utter after a while while gritting his teeth.


    ¡°Well... I guess right now is as good as whenever.¡± The witch''s voice remained fairly indifferent. ¡°Good luck to you. I''ll stand back, but believe me... I can tell if things go bad, so don''t worry.¡±


    After these words left Salelia''s lips, the shield suddenly started shrinking. The three disciples shared glances while the barrier around them got smaller and smaller.


    ¡°They''re three... Every one of us takes out one, understood?¡± Zaster hissed. Half a dozen balls of fire danced around the undead man, ready to devastate his enemy of choice. ¡°Well... Good luck to all of us.¡± He let out a short and unhappy, bone-chilling laugh. ¡°Here I go!¡±


    The shield opened before the Unliving for a split second, letting him and his readied spells to pass through. Nidor and Ehrir followed suit, but both of them lacking Zaster''s confidence. Behind their backs the shiny sphere closed itself entirely, leaving only the witch within its safe innards.


    The three grave robbers attacked the apprentices almost instantly. The jumped and clawed at them with ferocity that only hunger could give birth to. All three had just plain grey fur now, which was probably the default color for the crypt¡¯s dark halls.


    Ehrir took on the female beast. The monster was just a little bit smaller than its male partner, but more agile, with shorter claws and four pairs of pale nipples covering its belly that wasdevoid of fur. The Undone One spent a second basking at its incredible ugliness before it got in near vicinity, and then blocked a dozen of its blows with the ¡®frigid blade¡¯. He went on to dodge and parry for some time while steadily rotating around the edge of the circle of light that Salelia¡¯s spell provided.


    Meanwhile Zaster managed to quickly take down the male robber, attacking it with a barrage of fire bolts and sharp pieces of ice. The creature¡¯s blood ¨C so dark that it was almost black as ink ¨C stained the floor. Its corpse lied nearby, breathless. The Unliving retreated back inside Salelia¡¯s force field.


    Nidor, on the other hand, was still struggling just as much as Ehrir did, but he too hadn¡¯t utilized his magic yet, and only defended himself. The small grave robber fought even fiercer than his parents and its yellowy teeth could rip flesh apart just as easily as his father¡¯s. The branded youngling wounded it thrice with his weapons, but that didn¡¯t slow the monster down significantly. The Undone One couldn¡¯t help him. After all, he had his own freaky creature to worry about.


    ¡°Oh¡­ To hell with it¡±, Ehrir thought as the beast scratched his arm. He felt the ripping of his coat and the hot blood that started dripping and soaking the shirt beneath. It wasn¡¯t anything serious, just another new scar for the collection. But it still made the Undone One angry.


    ¡°I won¡¯t play with you anymore, you bitch¡±, he mumbled under his breath while Changing the floor beneath his feet. He made a few parts of it lower, but in exchange a solid wall rose between him and the thing.


    A couple of quick uses of Manipulation later and the Undone One was completely protected by thick slabs of stone from all four sides. He could still hear the beast roaring and trying to take down his defenses, but it didn¡¯t bother him much.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The Undone One went quiet for a moment, collecting his strength and feeding the magical sword with even more of his soul¡¯s energy. The blade started giving off such immense coldness that it made holding it almost unbearable, even with the gloves worn by Ehrir. The frost created small clouds of steam engulfing the weapon in its entirety. It was barely seeable in the intense shadows cast by the walls around.


    ¡°Well¡­ I guess that¡¯s the end¡±,Ehrir nodded to himself while touching the cold stone with his left hand. On the others side the female grave robber still clawed and shrieked. The Undone One shrugged his shoulders. This whole situation he was in felt too weird to be real. Well, he would have plenty of time to think about it back in the camp.


    The Undone One Changed the wall, sending parts of it back into the floor and making a circular hole at the level of his chest. He quickly slid the blade through that opening and was rewarded with a short and painful shriek from the other side, followed by a peaceful kind of silence. When he pulled the sword back in, the frost on it was covered in blood. A slight smirk grew and bloomed on the Undone One¡¯s face. The grave robber was undoubtedly dead. He deactivated the weapon¡¯s innate spell and made one of the defenses around him disappear.


    The sight that unveiled before him upon leaving the enclosed space was rather pleasant. All three of the beasts were dealt with and there wasn¡¯t a shield protecting Salelia now. For probably the first time since entering the tomb, the witch¡¯s face wore a warm, shining smile. Her eyes glistened with happiness.


    ¡°Well done.¡± Her voice, cheerful and sweet, felt like the best thing Ehrir had heard in his entire life. ¡°The three of you did spectacularly. Zaster, you were exceptional as always.¡± The Unliving nodded in a sharp manner. He didn¡¯t seem particularly touched by the words of praise from his mistress. ¡°Nidor¡­ You¡¯ve truly grown a lot. Your mastery with weapons is almost as good as that of a knight.¡± The branded boy grinned, looking over at the corpse of the small grave robber. It was beheaded and covered in cuts, the dead guard¡¯s axe still sticking from its torso.It bore some marks from spells, too.


    ¡°And when it comes to you¡­¡± Salelia¡¯s eyes fixated upon Ehrir. The Undone One found himself wanting to get at least some praise from the witch. Hell, he deserved it. The sorceress smiled as if reading his thoughts. ¡°It seems that my colleague has picked a fine disciple from the lands up north¡­ That Sevrian always manages to amaze me. In any case, your Manipulation is certainly something. You¡¯re doing as fluently and effortlessly in it as a full-fledged magician would.¡± She nodded reassuringly at him, as if to confirm her own words.


    The Undone One smiled at felt warmth inside of himself. It was a pleasant feeling, not the same as the hot sensation of embracing magic, but still... It was good to receive praise from someone that older and much more experienced than him¡­ and someone that beautiful, too.


    ***


    The lowest hall in the tomb proved to be just as ruined by the beasts as the rest of it. The statues depicting the clan heads of many generation loomed over enormous sarcophagi, but were covered in feces and claw marks from head to toe. On the end of the hall rested a monument depicting a five-headed dragon after which the clan was named. Its heads stood high up in the air and were left undamaged by the monsters. Their majesty and beauty were hypnotic.


    Under the massive monster rested a statue of the man responsible for the clan¡¯s creation, but his facial features and most of the detailing upon his clothes were long since destroyed by the grave robbers. The founder¡¯s coffin, however, wasn¡¯t there. It would make things too easy for tomb raiders and the such if it was just hanging in the tomb''s biggest hall.


    Nobody could notice any sign of a secret entrance or door leading to the founder''s chamber. Still, Ehrir managed to unravel a small chest in the shadows that lied between the dragon statue and that of the first clan head. It was made of stone and iron and had a rusted lock, but it proved to be no challenge for the Undone One''s Manipulation abilities.


    Everyone agreed that he should get the items inside, but the loot turned out to be very insignificant. There wss just a strange looking piece of mineral and a small note so badly aged that it was unreadable. The two went straight into his pockets, but he quickly forgot about them. After all, they could be just something from the upper floors brought to this hall by the beasts.


    Salelia suggested the disciples to stay and search for the founder''s chamber, but the three men just wanted to leave the dark halls and forgotten corridors behind their backs. The sorceress respected their decision and led them up.


    Sunshine covered the surface, radiating from between the clouds whose thick veil was starting to break apart. Maybe the weather was bound to get better, after all the damned snow.


    The four people walked to the camp in calm, fulfilling silence.

 Chapter 35 - A Remarkable Landmark

    The snow melted over the course of several days, thanks to the clear skies and bright sun. The weather wasn¡¯t nowhere near war. ¨C Ehrir still wore his cloak and coat all the time - but the temperatures rose enough for the group to continue travelling.


    The mountain landscape started changing rapidly after the first two days. The forests quietly gave way to steep, lifeless hills. They just piled on top of one another and slowly led to the mountain peaks marking the horizon. The silent behemoths of rock pierced the skies and were covered in snow. There was no way for the group to scale such a monstrosity, or at least Ehrir couldn''t imagine one.


    Luckily, the group wasn¡¯t planning on going through the mountain¡¯s highest parts to reach the other side. The masters wanted to go straight through a pass laying in lowest point between two particular peaks. The disciples under Sevrian hadn¡¯t ever seen it, but this wasn''t the case with Salelia''s apprentices.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ A weird place, to say the least¡±, mustered Zaster when the Undone One asked him about it. ¡°I don¡¯t want to spoil the damned surprise, so you¡¯ll just have to wait and see it for yourself. Or ask someone else.¡±


    Ehrir didn''t ask anyone.


    While the aspiring mages and their masters ascended through the mountains, their pace got slower and slower. They spent hours in rerouting and going around different obstacles, and in the rocky environments the horses proved to be inefficient and far from fast. The days turned into a painful and boring crawls through lands covered in grass and hostile looking bushes, with a mountain goat or two showing up occasionally. It stayed cold. The unforgiving winds made everyone in the group wear hoods and scarves, except for Zaster, and prevented Varhel from flying on a regular basis. Nalia still rode on horseback, although she grimly shared that it wasn¡¯t a particularly pleasant experience in the mountainous terrain.


    Ehrir often looked at the crystal that he found in the tomb during the days spent travelling. He couldn¡¯t get it to do anything and quickly came to the conclusion that it isn¡¯t magical in any way. The events in the crypt lowered his mood when he thought about them. The piece of mineral just reminded him about the whole ordeal. At one point he just got bored of it and tucked the thing away in his baggage.


    The good news were that with the days getting shorter the Undone One had some spare time before going to bed. He used it to read books about magic and to make the control over his soul energy better. The latter could only be done through practice. He spent long hours doing basic exercises in all five disciplines of sorcery, despite his laughable skills in Control and Conquering. Eventually he began advancing in those field too, albeit too slowly and without a plan.


    Meanwhile the days flew by and one chilly morning the group reached the place known as the Pass of charred bones.


    ***


    It could be seen from afar ¨C the slope ended as if cut with a knife, and turned into a flat piece of land resting between the peaks. It was impossible to see anything but the rocks marking its beginning from a lower point. But once the group neared the pass¡­ The sight unveiled in all of its macabre glory before Ehrir.


    The bones were countless, completely justifying the place¡¯s name. They covered the whole pass from one end to the other and were mostly black, bearing marks caused by intense fire.


    ¡°Charred bones, huh¡­¡± Nalia almost whispered in a mocking manner ¡°Can¡¯t say that this place doesn¡¯t live up to its name¡­ Right, Ehrir?¡±


    The Undone One could only nod silently.


    The Pass felt almost surreal to look at. All the bones laying around seemed human ¨C from the femurs to the shattered ribcages and the fractured skulls. Their numbers were so great that at places they reached above Ehrir''s ankles. It wasn¡¯t nice to walk through them.


    Yet, within the Undone One grew a strong curiosity and he shortly found himself talking with Sevrian about the Pass.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± the old man smiled slightly. ¡°It¡¯s an interesting story. The origin of all these bones, I mean. But it¡¯s not a short one, either¡­ Do you want to hear it, youngling?¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Ehrir nodded without a second thought.


    ¡°I don¡¯t really have anything better to do, don¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°I guess you don¡¯t, young man¡­ I guess you don¡¯t.¡±


    Sevrian stopped for a moment and his brows furrowed. He stayed like that for a moment, collecting his thoughts, and started speaking right after.


    ¡°As most bizarre stories in this world, this one began with a sorcerer¡­ And a powerful one at that. In addition to that, he wasn¡¯t human, but a goliath. Put bluntly, that is the oldest and most powerful race of non-humans known in history. They were hailed as gods. You have probably heard or read about them already¡­ His race doesn¡¯t really matter, but I¡¯m trying to emphasize on his strength¡­ And it definitely was monstrous.¡± The old mage nodded to himself. ¡°See, young man, the goliath was on the run from the ¡®hounds¡¯ of a certain man¡­ A man with incredible authority over parts of the Inner Fantasy, as far as I know. His servants were mighty people ¨C swordsmen, warriors with enchanted armors, magicians and skilled assassins¡­ Yet no one could do more than just scratch the ancient creature.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­ Why did he run from them?¡±


    ¡°This is¡­ A somewhat complicated matter.¡± Sevrian shrugged his shoulders. ¡°The powerful man from the Inner Fantasy and the goliath worked together in the past and the non-human knew a lot of the people that were tasked with killing him. He didn¡¯t want to kill them, so getting away seemed like the best option at the time. And so he reached the Outer Fantasy in hopes that he could hide amongst the unexplored parts of its vast wilderness. Sadly¡­¡± he shook his head regrettably. ¡°The men on his tail were just a little too good when it comes to tracing. Even when we¡¯re talking about a creature as quick and powerful as the goliath... They managed to find him¡­ At that very pass that we¡¯re traversing right now.¡±


    Ehrir felt how the hair on his neck stood up. A quick ¨C and dark ¨C realization came to him in the matter of seconds.


    ¡°Are those¡­ Their bones?¡± he asked in a low voice.


    Sevrian nodded, his eyes wandering around the countless burned remains around him. There wasn¡¯t a single whole skeleton here, or at least the Undone One couldn¡¯t notice one.


    ¡°There were several thousand of them, a huge number even for most of the elite amongst the human sorcerers. Yet¡­ That goliath killed them without much of a struggle. Only one man survived to tell the tale from that day besides the non-human¡­ He spoke about a hurricane of slashes made from compressed air that could cut through steel like it was butter, and about a blazing inferno of fire that turned flesh to ash in seconds. The man was spared for one reason alone ¨C to go back to his master and try to stop him from sending more people after the goliath, effectively preventing hundreds if not thousands of unnecessary deaths. The man did it and his master never pursued the goliath again, even when the aforementioned returned to the Inner Fantasy and sided with one of the other significant rulers there. The bones of the victims of this... accident still stand there, somehow not scattered, perhaps thanks to being under a thick layer of snow during the winter.¡±


    The old man went silent, seemingly finished with his story. But Ehrir wasn¡¯t satisfied with the ending.


    ¡°Master¡­¡± he began unconfidently. ¡°How long ago did that happen?¡±


    ¡°Around a century, maybe a little bit more¡­¡± the mage¡¯s voice was filled with uncertainty. ¡°Master Ostrias told me this tale and I¡¯ve forgotten some of the details over the years.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­ Has he told you the name of this creature¡­ the goliath?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s really important¡­ Regardless of that ¨C his full name is incredibly hard to memorize, but they call him Imhalian and also ¡®the last goliath¡¯.¡±


    ¡°The last goliath?¡±


    Sevrian glanced at his disciple without answering, his eyes shining in a strange way¡­ He looked sad.


    ¡°Yes, young man. Right now, that very same non-human is the last of his race... And even his legendary might is slowly fading away.¡± His tone was grim.


    Ehrir felt a dark sensation in his mind. How could such a strong being simply be washed away by the river of time? It would be almost hilarious if it didn¡¯t sound so bleak. But if a creature so ancient as the goliath could meet its death by the passing of ages¡­ Then someone like Ehrir could kill Farnaraen, at least if he had the power necessary.


    The Pass of charred bones left the Undone One with both a dark feeling ¨C feeling that nothing can last forever ¨C and hope that the man he wanted to kill could actually die by his hand.


    ***


    It took the travelling party a few days to descend the mountain from the Pass. It was a tricky task, sometimes even more tiresome than hiking upwards, especially for the horses. After they reached the forests, it snowed again, but far lighter than the last time. The terrain could be traversed, in any case.


    Everything was going according to the plan of Sevrian and the witch, albeit a little slower. The southern side of the mountain chain wasn''t as thickly covered in forests as the northern one, but it seemed steeper and more devoid of life. The last fact made both the mages and the guards calm, but spelled certain doom for the party''s supplies. The few goats, squirrels and birds that some of the disciples managed to catch didn''t add much to the decreasing amounts of food.


    Salelia mentioned making artificial food one night, and even Nalia made a dark grimace at the witch''s suggestion. Still... Nothing was going really bad for Ehrir and his companions.


    That was until they met the assassins.

 Chapter 36 - The Assassins of Tarha-Nan

    Mor-Ael felt stupid.


    The assassin was trained to survive in the wilderness for prolonged periods of time. But lurking around the forests for days still wasn¡¯t comfortable for a man so used to the cities as him. His two companions felt the same way.


    The fact that they had to live in the woods wasn¡¯t the only thing making the three men gloomy. They were one of the few squads dispatched outside of the city of cutthroats in these¡­ turbulent times.


    The Great Master of Mor-Ael¡¯s guild was working together with the city¡¯s monarch in an attempt to kill the one that had unexpectedly messed up the state¡¯s internal politics. The assassin had no idea who this strange man was. He had never heard of a ruler, mage or noble with silvery hair and purple eyes. Yet, that same individual controlled most of the guild leaders and criminal organizations at this point. He did it from behind the curtains, too. Mor-Ael witnessed personally how he ordered the Great Master and the Lord of Thieves around like some lowly recruits. Soon one thing got clear for the assassin - this man had to die.


    Mor-Ael and his companions attended the guild¡¯s meeting where their leader explained to his men that the task wouldn¡¯t be easy. He revealed that this unknown individual was a sorcerer of immense might and age, despite his youthful appearance.


    Most of the guild¡¯s forces were tasked with executing a complex plan that would culminate with the mage¡¯s death. Another part of the trained killers were to be used as reinforcements. The rest, Mor-Ael included, had to wait away from the city in case that the plan failed and the guild received damage. It was the worst possible scenario, but the Great Master wanted to be prepared for it.


    Mor-Ael thought of his role as cowardly and useless, but he couldn¡¯t simply disobey direct orders from the highest echelons of the organization. Such a lowly act would be beyond dishonorable.


    And so he dined with the meat of forest animals, wore only one pair of clothes (including his trusty hooded assassin¡¯s coat, covered with more pockets that he could count) and slept in caves or between the roots of ancient trees. It wasn¡¯t a comfortable kind of existence, but he and the others were professionals and endured it without difficulty.


    The biggest problem for the three men was the crushing boredom that had befallen them. When the assasssins didn¡¯t hunt for food or spent time trying to find wood and start a fire, a borderless pit of empty time engulfed them. They trained with all weaponsp from their arsenal for hours on end ¨C from the long knives to the poison-coated needles, and also did long workouts. But it still wasn¡¯t enough to occupy all of their time or to distract their minds from the inevitable questions growing within.


    Why wasn¡¯t no one trying to communicate with them after a whole week? Did the Great Master¡¯s plan fail? No sound came out of the magical device that Mor-Ael brought along as means of connection to the guild. If it stayed silent for another week, the group had to return to Tarha-Nan and see the situation for themselves. All three hoped that the device would start up before this day came.


    The questions tortured Mor-Ael and lowered his mood more and more with each passing day. But then something happened. And it definitely occupied some of his time, if anything.


    ***


    The night was as dark and cold as always and it made the assassin dream of well-lit rooms and warm beds. Their sleeping place for tonight was a small cave. It was just a big hole in the side of a hill, but it was dry, solid and vast enough to hold the three of them inside. They made a small fire at its entrance and made sure it couldn¡¯t be seen from afar. Still, one of them remained on watch. Of course, it happened to be Mor-Ael.


    The man hated this kind of duty. It was necessary, and yet he could barely endure it. He wasn¡¯t very well suited to the type of loneliness that these dark hours gifted him with. There were lone wolves amongst the ranks of the guild, but he always preferred to be surrounded by colleagues. Sadly, his usual teammates remained in Tarha-Nan. The new ones weren¡¯t as warm to him, to say the least. He felt somewhat isolated during the days, and at night¡­ He was alone in the true sense of the word.


    The woods¡­ They were quiet, except for the occasional rustling of leaves and sounds made by owls and other nocturnal animals that echoed through the impenetrable darkness. The fire shrinked over the course of a couple of hours. Mor-Ael kept it burning just because finding branches and pieces of wood laying around helped him cope with the boredom.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    The assassin checked his gear half a dozen times until midnight came around. Everything was flawless ¨C from his spiked gauntlets, armored boots and gloves to the hidden dagger in his boot. There were about fifteen other blades in his attire, coupled with about twenty poison-coated needles and one garrote. It was enough for a whole squad of thugs or lowlifes, but an elite killer such as him wasn¡¯t satisfied with only puny ordinary weapons.


    He kept a few magical amulets and charms under his clothes. They held passive spells activated only through simple touching or tapping, and didn¡¯t require any magical power from the user. The other men in his team also had some, but Mor-Ael''s - older and with a higher rank than his teammates ¨C were more powerful.


    And yet, despite all of his arsenal, the assassin didn¡¯t feel safe in the night¡¯s cold embrace. ¡°We are way too far from the city¡±, he thought grimly. Too far to react if something happened. And too close to the wilderness. ¡°Who knows what roams these damned woods¡­¡±


    Mor-Ael stayed awake and on his toes until the weak pink shine from the eastern horizon covered the forest into shadows and filled the air with pale, undefined kind of light. His comrades could easily sleep for another hour or two, but he didn¡¯t have to be as cautious from now on. He just sat near the dying fire and focused on observing the surroundings.


    The nature was still ¨C the nocturnal animals were asleep and those that roamed during the daytime hadn¡¯t awoken yet. The landscape was silent and made Mor-Ael calm without all the darkness engulfing it. The trained killer was tired after all of the hours he spent awake, and longed for sleep, barely keeping his eyes open.


    And yet, the sounds made him jump up in the moment he heard them.


    Those were voices, although still faraway and up the hill, at a couple hundred feet from Mor-Ael, at most. Even in the silence that reigned around, he could barely recognize them ¨C they were like a buzz on the edge of his senses, but they sounded¡­ human. There was no mistaking it, especially for the assassin¡¯s trained ears.


    He quickly extinguished what was left of the fire, scattered the ashes and made sure that the cave¡¯s entrance and the signs of human activity were hardly noticeable. Then he proceeded to hide in the nearby bushes up the hill, stay still and calm his breathing. A knife found its way to his hand and he clenched its handle by instinct.


    He waited for a couple of minutes before the group of strangers finally neared his position. There were about fifteen to twenty of them, and they definitely were a colorful, strange group of people. Some of them weren¡¯t even people in the traditional sense of the word. There was a member of the Ratkin ¨C the fucking Ratkin ¨C along with what looked like a walking corpse. The latter creature was unknown to Mor-Ael, but he had seen enough weird bastards in his lifetime to think that a living dead man, albeit extraordinary, isn¡¯t anything to get shocked by.


    The members of the group were chatting in a loud manner, seemingly unafraid of the forests around them. ¡°They should be¡±, Mor-Ael said to himself. He could probably take all of them out without too much of a struggle. He wouldn¡¯t do it, of course. The strangers didn¡¯t seem particularly evil or cautious. Everything would be fine as long as they didn¡¯t notice him or the camp.


    ¡°Whoever you are, you can come out of these bushes. You smell like a human to the marrow of your bones, clean skin.¡±


    Of course it had to be the big rat. Mor-Ael cursed in his mind, but it was too late. The creature¡¯s words and his pointing claw had raised the attention of the whole group. Everyone took battle stances, although only a few of had actual weapons.


    The assassins knew when to surrender, but he quickly hid a couple of needles in his gloves before getting up.


    ¡°Well, I guess you caught me.¡± His smile was well-calculated and had to look natural.


    ¡°Who are you, young man? And why were you spying us?¡± Those words belonged to an old, well-dressed man with a relaxed expression. He didn¡¯t look like a leader, and yet the people around gazed at him with utmost respect. His soft expression showed no fear towards the trained killer, only mild curiosity.


    "Well, I just happened to pass around here and heard your group. You''re not exactly hard to notice, you know?" Mor-Ael tried to give his voice the friendliest tone possible. "The people that lurk around these words and avoid the main paths are not usually decent fellas."


    The old man smiled slightly, but the woman besides him - probably around forty years younger and gifted with pale, elegant beauty - spoke before he could.


    "You said it yourself, good sir." She smirked, but her voice wasn''t warm. "The people around here aren''t decent." She looked at the people around her. The assassin noticed their respect towards her. "I do this out of pure suspicion. Ehrir, please confine him."


    One of the middle aged men within the group - with medium frame and with black hair reaching to the middle of his back - nodded.


    Before Mor-Ael could understand what the man planned, he was between four solid stone slabs that restricted his movement and left only his head free.


    "Impressive", hissed the living corpse. "You used the stone within the ground, right?"


    "Yeah."


    The assassin cursed quietly. Of course they had to be mages.


    "Now, good sir, can you answer some questions for me?" The woman''s smile was still hanging on her face. It was almost creepy.


    "I don''t have much of a choice, do I?"


    "No, sir. You don''t."


    Well, this day began in areally shitty kind of way.

 Interlude - A Friendly Bit of Advice

    ¡°And when it comes to the First Generation¡­ I¡¯m glad they¡¯re gone. They were like brothers and fathers to all of us, but such monstrous strength as theirs was definitely dangerous. They could take hundreds of lightning bolts or fireballs and heal themselves within seconds, especially our the Firstborn. I¡¯ve personally seen two of them fight for hours and exchange blows that could devastate buildings. Both of them walked out of it unscathed and only covered in light sweat¡­ We all feared them back then, didn¡¯t we?¡±


    The last lines of a letter written by Rehlin the Seventhborn and sent to a member of the council of Elder Changelings


    ***


    The Great Master of the Assassins¡¯ Guild in Tarha-Nan nervously paced across his spacious chambers and waited for the arrival of any news. Of course, the Thirdborn could show up instead of his men and just knock on the door. Or burn it to ashes, rather.


    The outcome of the assassination attempt was unknown for the Master, but he suspected the worst. His troops went in the mansion occupied by Farnaraen around dusk. Reinforcements were called almost immediately, and until midnight every last elite killer in Tarha-Nan was tasked with slaying the Changeling. The Master waited and tried to contact his forces frequently, but he was met with silence after the new day began. Now dawn was covering the windows of his secret residence with golden light, but his men were still quiet. Dead, probably.


    If almost five hundred men, highly trained in the art of murder, couldn¡¯t deal with Farnaraen, who could? A whole damned army? The Great Master doubted it.


    Was this the power of the old sorcerers from the Inner Fantasy? It was nearly unimaginable. Most of the men tasked with the kill wore a special kind of amulet that was both incredibly expensive and hard to find. It prevented most forms of magic from even touching the wielder. In the best case, Farnaraen would be left with only his physical might alone and the chance to manipulate the environment. The Great Master thought that would be enough for his men to deal at least one fatal strike. Was he wrong?


    The skilled assassin ¨C he had killed hundreds in his lifetime, innocent and guilty alike, and always strong¡­ That same man closed his eyes and prayed to the Crescent Master that his plan would turn out to be successful.


    Outside the sun rose, indifferent to the problems of mortal men, and its light cleared away most of the shadows that embraced Tarha-Nan.


    ***


    He arrived in a quiet, almost gentle way, without flames, screams or lightning. The door turned to sand under his magical touch, and he stepped inside without hurrying.


    The Thirdborn¡¯s body had changed, probably under the effect of his own mysterious spells. His bulging muscles had torn parts of his clothes apart and seemed unnatural, covered in countless veins. His expression was calm and collected, and there was no aggression in his violet eyes. Yet, his fists were soaked in blood.


    ¡°I greet you, Great Master.¡± A slight smile danced upon the Changeling¡¯s face, making him look even more beautiful than he already was. ¡°Why are you looking so pale?¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    The guild leader tried to disguise his terror, but failed in a miserable way. One question haunted his mind, it burned inside his skull with an unnatural flame. It was stupid, and yet he had to ask it.


    ¡°H-how did you do it?¡±


    Farnaraen smirked sadly and shrugged his shoulder before his expression turned to a serious, stone-like one.


    ?I don¡¯t like to kill people, honorable Master.¡± The Changeling shook his head as if to confirm the words. ¡°And your people definitely didn¡¯t deserve such type of¡­ bleak death, if this is the correct term to use. Bashing their heads in, breaking skulls, ribs, using only immense physical might to kill¡­ Even I found it to be gruesome, but my usual magic didn¡¯t seem to work. And my Manipulation¡­ It¡¯s a little bit too grandiose to be used in such a small scale encounter. Can you tell me why you organised this ordeal, my dear friend?¡±


    The Great Master began shivering without even noticing it. He tried to control himself, but his body just refused to stop. Was this the work of the sorcerer, too?


    ¡°I¡¯m waiting for your answer, honorable Master. If you answer truthfully, perhaps you can go on with your life for another decade or two.¡±


    It took some time for the guild leader to find his voice and begin talking in a weak, fading manner, but the Thirdborn proved to be patient.


    ¡°You¡­ were too much of a threat. Your actions were too bold. And¡­¡± he managed to look straight at the Changeling¡¯s eyes just for a split second. ¡°Although I¡¯m just probably just a mere thug in your eyes, I¡¯m still loyal to Tarha-Nan. And to the union of city states. And¡­ to the High Sovereign, believe it or not.¡± He went quiet for a second. ¡°You wanted to usurp his throne, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡±, the mage uttered while nodding slowly. ¡°But I didn¡¯t want to kill him, per se. My wish is to command the monarch¡­ I wouldn¡¯t slay him if he resisted, I¡¯d just use his body as a puppet. It is necessary to have him as my servant, in any case.¡±


    ¡°And why¡­ why is it necessary? Because you¡¯re power-hungry?¡± A spark of confidence crept up within the Great Master and made his words bolder. His gaze sharpened and anger filled the watery azure of his eyes.


    ¡°I assure you, my honorable Master¡­ I¡¯m everything but power-hungry.¡± The Thirdborn looked like his mind was somewhere far away. His bulging muscles were quietly devolving into their usual state which was still impressive but not inhuman. ¡°If I could, I would just wander off into the wilderness from which I came with the hope that I¡¯ll never again see the face of a human. I don¡¯t care about politics, about wars, about authority and especially about magic. But¡­¡±


    ¡°But what?¡±


    ¡°The visions¡­ The future seemed too bleak for me to just live in exile and watch how the lands whose history I shaped just plunge into devastating conflict.¡±


    The Great Master blinked in confusion. What was the Changeling blabbering about? The future? Visions? There was no magic that could let the user see the flow of fate, as far as he knew¡­


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°I have seen what is coming.¡± Farnaraen¡¯s eyes suddenly looked like those of a madman, but quickly returned to normal. ¡°I¡¯m the only one that can understand the visions. And I must stop them. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m actually willing to give my own life for that.¡±


    For a moment the Changeling seemed mortal and human down to his very core, with a sad, nostalgia-filled expression. Then he smiled again and the quiet, strange happiness emerged in his eyes. Like he hadn¡¯t just vaguely described some gargantuan war...


    ¡°I have to go, honorable Master. I shall give you a friendly bit of advice, okay? I recommend following it.¡± The smile on his face became visibly cheerful. ¡°Never cross my path again, you hear? Your guild is practically annihilated, your forces are reduced to a bunch of corpses¡­ You have no means of opposing me. Not you, nor your puny king or the High Sovereign himself. You will hear my orders and obey them. Do you understand?"


    The Great Master collected all of his bravery and sharply eyed the Thirdborn.


    "I will not obey you."


    "Well then... I told you to follow the advice."


    ***


    In the days after his meeting with the leader of the Assassin''s Guild Farnaraen often thought about the man. He was strong-willed, if anything. He lost an eye and a leg because of that very will. In fact, the Thirdborn was responsible for the lost body parts. At least the Master was obedient now, after being crippled.


    The Thirdborn definitely liked him.

 Chapter 37 - The Path Ahead

    ¡°So¡­ You¡¯ll lead us to Tarha-Nan?¡± asked Salelia with an innocent smile on her face. She seemed as beautiful as ever in the soft, graceful morning sunlight that bathed the forests.


    The leader of the assassins - a middle-aged athletic man with greying hair - exchanged glances with his two comrades. Then he nodded slowly and ate a spoonful of the soup cooking in the nearby fire before answering.


    ¡°We¡­ We will, yes. ¡± His tone wasn¡¯t the most confident one, but he sounded honest, at least. And also very, very grim. ¡°We¡¯ll be breaking part of our orders¡­ But we won''t break the most important. We refuse to enter the city. We¡¯ll wait out ¡®till someone contacts us or the period of time given to us ends. We must leave you several hours worth of walking before Tarha-Nan.¡±


    ¡°Even so¡­You¡¯re doing us a great service, honorable members of the Guild.¡± The witch bowed her head slightly and threw a smile at the three crude-looking men. All of them replied with stony gazes and sharp nods.


    ¡°It¡¯d be a real fuckin¡¯ miracle if our organization is still existing, lady.¡± One of the assassins frowned and looked at the needle that he held between his fingers.


    The sorceress tried to cheer him up with a handful of kind words, but without much of success. Meanwhile Ehrir, who watched the conversation from the side, felt a sudden tap on his shoulder.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Of course it had to be Zaster. Or Nalia, in rarer cases. Or the two at the same time, in the worst possible one. Now both of them were besides him, the young girl smiling naughtily from the back of her horse next to the living corpse.


    ¡°We just wanted your opinion on¡­ A thing.¡± The Unliving¡¯s voice had an ironical tint to it.


    ¡°And what would that be?¡±


    The young woman¡¯s tongue was faster than that of the undead man.


    ¡°How do ya¡¯ think that that all of the stuff going down in Tarha-Nan is turning out? Did those thugs manage to kill the Changeling? I mean, those bleak looking guys over there claimed that there were a lot of them. They were well-equipped, too.¡±


    Ehrir gave Nalia a sharp look. She just winked at him as an answer. She knew very well that no one in Salelia¡¯s group (except the witch herself, possibly) knew about the Thirdborn. Her disciples were well aware that about the whole deal with tracing Arleon but remained in the dark when it came to Farnaraen.


    Why had Nalia begun such a discussion? Did she expect him to lie, or was just playing around?


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. He¡¯s said to be a powerful sorcerer, right?¡± The Undone One shrugged and tried to sound as unconfident and unsure as possible. ¡°Maybe he managed to get away from the assassins. Slaughtering them, on the other hand¡­ I don¡¯t believe this to be possible.¡± He spoke honestly. Arleon probably couldn¡¯t handle the forces of one of the most elite criminal organizations in Tarha-Nan. The Thirdborn, on the other hand¡­


    ¡°Those people here don¡¯t seem very confident in the fact that he didn¡¯t slaughter them.¡± Zaster¡¯s tone was whisper-like and dark. ¡°Still, they probably don¡¯t know much about sorcery¡­ They seem dishearten, that much is obvious.¡±


    ¡°It sure is, zombie.¡± Nalia cackled. She knew how annoyed the undead man was with this particular term. ¡°So¡­ We¡¯re gonna travel with this knife-wielding, poison-making trio from now on? Our food supplies are gonna diminish even faster then, ya¡¯ know?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really concerned¡±, Zaster said while shrugging his shoulders. ¡°You are those who have to worry.¡±


    Ehrir smirked at his words before replying.


    ¡°Those three mentioned that the city isn¡¯t really that far away. A few days of travelling or a whole week¡­ Something along those lines. We¡¯ll be able to hold up. And they see pretty well fed themselves, without any kind of food around as far as I could see. They should be able to hunt and provide food themselves.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­¡± The young woman nodded unsurely. ¡°They don¡¯t seem particularly warm, though, do they?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect more from a band of trained cutthroats.¡± Ehrir looked towards the three men. They seemed somewhat ordinary, despite their unusual clothes and emotionless faces. Their group didn¡¯t fit the environment particularly well. The assassins were covered in the same shade of dark grey from their hoods to the tips of their boots. This monotonous clothing contrasted sharply with the forest around ¨C full of countless vibrant colors, dancing lights, shadows and dozens of different forms of life.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Well, our group is definitely getting bigger, in any case¡±, remarked Zaster.


    ¡°Yep. With a little bit of luck, we¡¯ll march into Tarha-Nan with a freaking army behind our backs¡±, Nalia said.


    ***


    The day ended with Ehrir¡¯s group not moving at all. They raised their camp near that of the assassins, and ate together with the three dark-looking men. The trio wasn''¡¯t particularly talkative, but answered the questions of Sevrian and Salelia, going into great details about the political situation in Tarha-Nan. Yet, they didn¡¯t reveal much about their own guild or the other organizations ruling the city from the shadows. They talked a lot the man that their brothers in arms were tasked with killing. It quickly became clear that they didn¡¯t really know his identity, besides the fact that he was a powerful sorcerer. Regardless, they seemed hopeless, sure in the annihilation of their guild. Ehrir was sure that they wouldn¡¯t shed a word about the Thirdborn or agree to help them if they weren''t in such a desperate situation.


    The Undone One recalled the morning with a slight smile on his face. The group''s leader ¨C he hadn¡¯t memorized his name yet ¨C looked so shocked for a second when he caged him back in the morning. Once unable to move, he surrendered to the witch¡¯s questions pretty quickly. The sudden appearance of his comrades didn¡¯t make the situation better for him, either. The two were confined in a matter of seconds by the albino¡¯s Creation and the threat of being burned to a crisp by Zaster. The negotiations went better from then on, understandably.


    Still, much of the group still didn¡¯t trust the assassins.


    ¡°Hey, do you think they will try to attack us along the way?¡±


    ¡°Probably not. There are about fifteen of us, most can cast magic on a whim. The others are well-armed brutes, to put it bluntly. There¡¯s an archer too. Their chances of success are non-existent.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that they are afraid of large numbers or low chance of success... If they have the element of surprise at hand, that is. They were trained to stay calm even in the face of an overwhelming enemies. If the rumors are true...¡±


    ¡°Rumors?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that they put the likes of them through ten hells worth of training before giving them the rank of a full-fledged guild member. Who knows what they are capable of¡­¡±


    Such conversations sounded within Ehrir¡¯s tent even after midnight, although he preferred to not interfere in them too much. He needed good sleep, but hardly managed to get any. The dawn came too soon, and with it ¨C the need to start travelling again. There weren¡¯t any signs of suspicious activity around, and the guards shared that the night has been quiet.


    ¡°Quiet... If you exclude my damned tent¡­¡± mumbled Ehrir while massaging his temples and blinking at the blinding light hitting his eyes from all directions.


    ***


    The path towards Tarha-Nan wasn¡¯t any lighter the one towards the mountains. The slow crawl through the forests proved to be as boring as ever, despite the occasional appearance of an open area, a lake or a small valley. ¡°The adventure I dreamed about seems to be quite boring after a few weeks of mindlessly walking through the wilderness¡±, Ehrir often said to himself. He usually spent time thinking about the city of cutthroats and what might wait for him there.


    The Thirdborn appeared again and again in the Undone One¡¯s mind. His looks had changed, he figured that much out from the assassins¡¯ tales. The frail old man whose flesh he was trapped in during the second part of the Clairvoyance was now a tall, muscular young man with exceptional beauty. How could this come to be was unknown. Another of the Changelings¡¯ secrets, undoubtedly.


    Farnaraen also showed himself as monstrously strong once again, and this time outside of the vague legends from millennia ago. The trained killers mentioned that they were out here solely because someone from the organization had to stay away from the city state in case things went bad. Hundreds of assassins were tasked with taking the life of one man. The guild master or someone from the leaders of the city surely knew the man¡¯s real identity to dispatch so much forces. The sheer number of people was mind-boggling. And to think all of them were most likely killed by the Thirdborn already¡­


    The Undone One constantly fought these swarming thoughts in an attempt to fend them off. He did his best to focus on the journey ahead of the group.


    Their route was changed after the appearance of the three men. The trio possesed a well-detailed map showcasing a shortcut through the forest. It would quickly lead the travelling party to the road towards Tarha-Nan. The need to detour and wander around the coast of the nearby ocean was no more. It took mere four days of walking for the forests to give way to fields, some of which were protected with fences and obviously worked on by humans. The farms themselves appeared soon after, causing Zaster and the ratman to cover themselves with hoods, gloves, scarves and veils. Despite this, the group still managed to gather a lot of attention, especially when the farm workers noticed the assassins.


    "It''s a normal thing... Every farmer here comes to the city to sell his produce. And anyone who is regularly in city can recognize the mission uniform of a guild member. We''ve never really tried to hide", explained one of the three in a low tone.


    The group slept in one of the farms before continuing its way. The owner seemed displeased with them, but also scared enough to let them use his barn. The landscape around was quite bizzare, combining both the usual countryside look with ancient pieces of ruin rising from the ground.


    On the fifth day the path to Tarha-Nan appeared before them - paved with white cobbestlones, at least fifty steps wide and stretching from one horizon to the other.


    Only two days worth of travel separated the sorcerers from their goal.

 Chapter 38 - Crystal Towers on the Horizon

    The fields around the city of cutthroats were devoid of life. The grasslands and sparse forests that Ehrir encountered before suddenly turned into a chaotic, rocky landscape stretching towards the horizon. From afar it seemed like a wound in the earth, a rotten piece of flesh next to a healthy one. The transition between the two was too sudden, too unnatural. Ehrir was fascinated with it and soon learned how that weird piece of land had come to be.


    ¡°It¡¯s quite the story¡±, said Mor-Ael (the Undone One had finally managed to learn his name) when asked about it. He wasn¡¯t very willing to continue, by the looks of it, but did so regardless. ¡°The legends mention of a war that the goliaths waged here in ancient times. They were still growing in power as a race and there were many types of non-humans opposing their steadily expanding empire. People believe that one of their more powerful rivals, whoever it may be, was located where my birthplace stands today. The mighty goliath bastards just annihilated them with an attack methods so powerful that they created the pit where Tarha-Nan lies today. They also prevented any kind of plant life from growing around, as you can see. Now go and annoy someone else¡­ I know only this, and it¡¯s probably a pile of crap and lies.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t. Ehrir checked it with the old man. He didn¡¯t mention it to the assassin ¨C the man looked displeased enough with the half-forgotten legend to not care about it.


    Whatever the goliaths used to devastate the place worked well. Too well. The Undone One couldn¡¯t notice even a single strand of grass amongst the stony wasteland. The animal life was almost as sparse ¨C birds rarely crossed the sky and no living being could be seen on the ground. Ehrir¡¯s group was an exception, along with the small flow of travelers that they met on the path to Tarha-Nan.


    ¡°This way to the city¡­ It isn¡¯t used very much¡±, remarked Sevrian one day with a thoughtful expression.


    ¡°Of course it isn¡¯t, lord¡±, one of the assassins said while shrugging his shoulders. He tried to sound respectful, but the words came out indifferent as always. ¡°It leads to what is basically nowhere and is too damned long to be used with anyone in his right mind. Most people walk the southern path to the city state. There are lot more towns and inns along it, too.¡±


    ¡°There are none around this one, though¡±, Nalia proclaimed from somewhere behind the old man¡¯s back.


    The cutthroat nodded silently.


    This moment was the last one when Ehrir heard this particular member of the darkly-dressed trio talking.


    ***


    The crystal towers of the king¡¯s castle ¨C the highest points in Tarha-Nan ¨C showed up on the horizon in the middle of the morning the next day. They were barely visible ¨C just a few colored dots on the edge where the clouded skies embraced the painfully bleak earth. Yet, Mor-Ael stopped in the middle of his step when he noticed them.


    ¡°Come on, continue forward¡±, one of his comrades hissed at him. ¡°The city is way too far off for us to leave ¡®em here.¡±


    The leader of the three men mumbled some answer quietly and resumed his steady pace.


    He stopped permanently after a few more hours. At this point the towers were marking the horizon like strange crystal fangs belonging to some gargantuan demon.


    ¡°I won¡¯t take a step further from this exact place¡±, he threw a dark glance at his comrades. They nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s as he said. In the end, we have to obey him. He¡¯s our superior.¡± One of them didn¡¯t seemed particularly pleased with his own words. The other remained silent and emotionless.


    ¡°¡¯Fine.¡± Salelia, who was walking a few steps behind, approached the assassins. ¡°You¡¯ve been of tremendous help to us, honorable guild members. I hope good luck bestows your organization and you.¡±


    ¡°May the gods hear your words.¡± Mor-Ael shrugged. ¡°Those bastards pretend to be deaf most of the time, though. May you find what you search for, lady.¡±


    The witch, along with Sevrian, exchanged some more lines of dialogue with the men before departing. The assassins left the road quickly after, continuing into the rocky wastes and soon leaving Ehrir¡¯s line of sight.


    ¡°Whew¡­ Some weight is lifted from my dead shoulders now¡±, said Zaster that same afternoon, his voice rustling and creaking as always. ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll see these guys again any time soon?¡±


    ¡°Depends on the situation in the city.¡±


    ¡°Can you give a funnier answer next time? I¡¯m not here for someone to point me to the obvious one.¡±Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°What exactly do you want now, Zaster?¡±


    The undead man went quiet for a moment.


    ¡°Nothing in particular. I¡¯m just nervous, you know?¡± The Unliving cleared his throat with a few painfully-sounding coughs. ¡°Nidor has been under the mistress¡¯ tutelage since he was eight years old. Most of the others are with her for more than five years now. But I¡­ I¡¯ve actually been her disciple for no more than a year. I¡¯ve never been in an actual dangerous situation during that time, besides a few small fights like the one in the tomb. And I¡¯ve never gotten into a serious adventure, or whatever you call it¡­ But I feel that whatever shall happen in this damned city of thieves would probably deserve the name ¡®adventure¡¯¡­ And I don¡¯t like that.¡±


    ¡°At least it¡¯d be more interesting than our walks through the forests, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Aye, it would. But that doesn¡¯t mean it would be particularly enjoyable.¡±


    The two men continued to chat as the time passed them by and the cold winds brought thicker clouds above their head. At dusk the walls of the giant pit in which the city rested (like a giant snake in its lair) were already clearly visible.


    The city of cutthroats awaited them.


    ***


    There was only one easy way to enter Tarha-Nan and it involved going around the castle standing atop of it like a silent guardian of crystal. There were more¡­ traditional fortifications surrounding it, including smaller stone fortresses and several high walls. They barred anyone from entering the city without going through the main roads. Defenders stood on top of them ¨C silent and unreal like ghosts, wearing dark clothes, almost indistinguishable in the newborn night¡¯s darkness. Parts of the walls were as unusual as its defenders. They were raw-looking, chaotically shaped, dark and smooth, as if not being made out of stone. It seemed like the other portions of the fortification were built around those giant boulders of black stone¡­ or black crystal.


    The path lead the group to a massive, ancient gate. The words ¡°Thou shall respect the shadows, the darkness and the blades, for their domain lies beyond this door¡± were inscribed upon its frame. They were clearly visible even in the weak, trembling light of the moon. The sides of the castle, shining faintly with countless different colors, loomed beyond the wall, brightening the night just a little bit. It was a hypnotizing sight to behold.


    ¡°Well, they certainly have some good ways to make you excited for entering this shithole before you even see it properly¡±, commented Nalia.


    Her words weren¡¯t properly noticed by anyone besides Ehrir and Varhel, due to the appearance of a voice from above the gate at this very moment. And it was a powerful, strongly resonating voice.


    ¡°Are you wishing to enter Tarha-Nan, city state ruled by our faithful king Broh-Aer the Second, and also a part of the Union of City States led by the glorious High Sovereign?¡± The voice belonged to a man positioned on the top of the wall. He stood in the shadows with his face hidden by the night¡¯s veil.


    Sevrian seemed unimpressed by his words, but answered in the same pompous and official manner.


    ¡°I do wish to enter your renowned city, keeper of the gate.¡±


    ?Well, then¡­ May I ask about your intentions within the borders of our home?¡± The man sounded uninterested, but kept his voice clear, strong and powerful.


    ¡°I seek an audience with the king of your renowned city state. I¡¯m bringing him important information. For his ears only.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± The gate guardian sounded somewhat surprised. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear this message you speak of, if it¡¯s truly this important¡­ But I need a confirmation of your words.¡±


    ¡°Of course¡­ I have it right here.¡± Sevrian reached into the pocket of his coat and took out an envelope made of creamy parchment. The sign of the Ashen Gaze was drawn upon it, barely visible in the moonlight.


    ¡°Good. My men will come get it shortly. I¡¯m sorry for making you wait, guests of the city, but it must be done.¡±


    The gatekeeper went silent after these words, but his servants ¨C two silhouettes besides him ¨C came soon enough.


    In one moment, they stood on the wall. In the next they emerged from the shadows lurking around the entrance to Tarha-Nan and stepped towards Sevrian. They wore simple pairs of dark clothes, covered with leather plates. It was a light, not particularly spectacular kind of armor¡­ In actuality, the guards didn¡¯t shine out with anything besides their obvious use of some magical transportation¡­ And the simple pendants around their necks which emitted strong golden light.


    ¡°I see¡­ Magical artifacts that can be used so easily. Fascinating¡±, the old man murmured before he handed over the letter from Ostrias.


    ¡°Thank¡­ you¡­¡± one of the men hissed before returning to the shadows with his comrade. After just a moment they were back above the gate.


    ¡°What do these people use to teleport around?¡± Ehrir¡¯s question was almost a whisper, but it was heard. Nalia just shrugged her shoulders. Varhel mumbled something about magic being able to do anything, especially if artifacts were involved in the matter.


    The gatekeeper spent some time reading the letter, his expression obscured and hidden from the group of mages under his feet. In the end, he got it back into the envelope and threw it towards the old man. The tattooed female disciple of Salelia caught it mid-air after one graceful, almost superhuman jump.


    ¡°I see¡­ Ostrias Haelum is truly an important figure¡±, the keeper spoke, this time more informally. ¡°It¡¯s logical for your message to be just as important. You can proceed into the city. My men will open the gates for you. However, you probably won¡¯t be able to enter the palace or get near the king with such ease.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± Sevrian nodded. ¡°Thank you for your understanding, honorable gatekeeper.¡±


    ¡°Of course¡­ Sevrian of the Maelics, I presume? Your name was mentioned in the letter.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Maelics as in¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, those Maelics.¡±


    The guardian didn¡¯t answer.


    Soon the gates opened with a painful creak and the group passed through them.


    The city of Tarha-Nan ¨C a den of thieves, lowlifes and cutthroats ¨C lied before them in all of its miserable, dark glory.

 Chapter 39 - The Palace and Its Secrets

    The crystal castle that stood above Tarha-Nan like a god above mortal men was the only truly beautiful thing about the city. The ordinary city stretching into the pit below seemed dull and dirty in the moonlight. The mansions of numerous nobles were scattered around the palace and its defenses, but they seemed too bland and practical to be called pretty or eye-grabbing. They were more like small castles than luxurious houses.


    ¡°Everyone in this damned place fears assassins and thieves, even the very men that boss them around¡±, mentioned Zaster as he rambled on in a kind of half-judgemental, half-witty monologue. ¡°This simple fact led to the¡­ questionable kind of architecture visible here, or so I¡¯ve heard.¡±


    Ehrir was conversing with Nalia and the undead man as the whole group (except for the master sorcerers) waited. It was their second hour here and the second since the witch and the old man went somewhere to try and get access to the palace. The remainder of the night was spent wandering around the numerous fortifications around. During this slow advance various new obstacles ¨C usually grim-looking guards and massive, solid gates ¨C slowed them down, in most cases by demanding the letter from Ostrias to be shown again and again. The defense of the massive crystal palace was more than stable, if anything. After each passed gate a new guard was assigned to walk with and watch over the group, and in the end the escort was as big as the travelling party itself. Half a dozen of these people ¨C dressed in the same ordinary leather armor that the gatekeepers wore, with proud postures and scarred faces ¨C were still lurking around the apprentices. Ehrir was sure that they were much more than they originally seemed to be. There was a vague aura about them¡­ A sense of immense danger, of readiness to take one¡¯s life without a second thought. Zaster already pointed out that there were strange runes covering the hilts of their swords and pauldrons. The language in which they were written was undoubtedly ancient and more chaotic than the clean, sleek alphabet that Emhaelic used.


    ¡°It''s unusual for plain and simple guards to have such symbols upon their clothing¡­ There aren¡¯t a lot of people who can inscribe such runes, ya¡¯ know? They probably hold magical power on top of that, too¡±, remarked Nalia as she stared at the armed men¡¯s garments. Unmoving and stoic, the armed peoplelooked like a group of statues in the gentle sunlight.


    ¡°You¡¯re right, girl¡­ There¡¯s something weird going on here.¡± Zaster nodded sharply in agreement with Nalia¡¯s words. Varhel just stood beside his sister¡¯s horse in silence. He looked sleepy for the first time since Ehrir met him.¡°I can¡¯t blame him for that¡±, thought the Undone One as he yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was dying for a good, eight-hour sleep, too.


    ¡°You guys sure look tired¡±, said Nidor cheerfully while approaching Ehrir and the others. He was pretty fresh and relaxed, surprisingly.


    ¡°Weren¡¯t you playing cards with that rat guy?¡± Nalia asked.


    ¡°Yeah, but¡­ The ground isn¡¯t exactly the best place to put our cards on, nor is my damned cloak.¡± The branded boy looked around. The disciples were in some kind of a practicing yard, as wooden dummies and bow targets occupied big parts of it. The guards brought them here after Salelia and Sevrian went off to deal with the permission to enter. There was only one big gate here, leading to another open area, and several small doors. The whole place was plain and practical to its core, with the ground being dusty and unpaved, and the surrounding buildings - dull and lifeless. It didn¡¯t seem like it was just a few steps away from a monarch¡¯s residence, if anything.


    Nidor fixated his gaze on the you g woman in front of him.


    "Our fur-covered friend also got tired of losing to me."


    ¡°Those are some bold words, they are. So... you say you¡¯re good at those games, kid?¡± Nalia giggled. ¡°Think you can take on my bro over there?¡±


    ¡°I can beat even the mistress if it is card games we¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°You heard that, Varhel? Come ¡®ere and show this boy what a true player is.¡±


    A slight smile bloomed on the young man¡¯s pale face, and he threw a glance towards Nidor.


    ¡°He¡¯s too good for me, sis. Sorry, but I can¡¯t.¡±


    ?Are you shittin¡¯ me?¡± Nalia threw a fiery glance towards her brother. ¡°What about you, Ehrir? Or the corpse over there?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me.¡± The Undone One shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure how to play this thrice-damned game.¡±


    Zaster, on the other hand, clicked with his teeth and chuckled lightly. The sound resembled the coughing of a dying man a little bit too closely to be comfortable for the ear.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°I¡¯ll play¡±, he said in a whisper-like manner. ¡°Wanna bet some money, kid?¡±


    ¡°Of course I do.¡± Nidor asked and took out a handful of coins. ¡°Shall we begin?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Let''s.¡±


    Ehrir hadn¡¯t seen the Unliving this competitive and determined since the battle in the crypt.¡°Well, this will be interesting¡±, he said to himself and watched as the two men began a game which could only be described as ¡®intense¡¯.


    ***


    After half an hour of showing tactical genius, immense luck and a considerable talent in the art of bluffing (not that he could show many emotions with his face in the first place), Zaster won. It was a hard, well-earned victory, and it made Nalia curse aloud and laugh. Nidor, on the other hand, wasn¡¯t so happy.


    ¡°I thought that there wasn¡¯t anyone here better than me¡­¡± he hissed bitterly. ¡°What kind of genius are you, Zaster?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m no genius, boy.¡± The zombie shook his head. ¡°I just have experience¡­ If you were my age, you¡¯d surely win, but you¡¯ll have to wait a bit for that¡­ I also have a decaying, emotionless face and a good portion of luck. They help, too.¡±


    The youngling handed over his handful of coins ¨C mainly simple copper and some silver ones mixed with them ¨C to the undead man. Not without regret written all over his face, though. He and Zaster were continuing to ramble when one of the gates in the nearby wall opened and their mistress, along with Sevrian, emerged from it, accompanied by four guards. The elder sorcerers¡¯ eyes brightened and their faces softened when they saw the disciples.


    ¡°After us, younglings¡±, Ehrir¡¯s master commanded with a warm voice. Salelia nodded quietly at his words and gestured towards the apprentices to follow her and the older wizard. The disciples obeyed silently, soon stepping into a new, unfamiliar set of greyish, cold hallways.


    While they walked through them, the sorceress explained the current situation.


    ¡°We have permission to enter the palace now¡±, she said softly and clearly. Her face was still, without any kind of emotion emanating from its gentle features. ¡°But¡­ There is a problem.¡±


    ¡°Of course there is¡±, whispered Nalia from besides Ehrir. She left her horse outside and was transported in an improvised wheelchair made by the albino¡¯s Creation and further refined by the Undone One. Varhel was moving it confidently while watching over his sister with a defensive kind of gaze.


    The witch didn¡¯t notice the young woman¡¯s words and continued talking rather confidently.


    ¡°The king is dealing with a sort of political crisis right now. Everything is quiet on the outside, but the advisor that talked with us about it seemed very worried. He said that the palace is like a melting pot right now, and that we may rest here for a day. Afterwards we should go and wait in the city for a week or two."


    Silence reigned for a while after this line, the only sounds in the hallway coming the people''s steps and their quiet breathing. The guards didn''t seem moved at all by the witch''s words, even if they concerned the stability of their own home state."They probably know all about this whole ordeal",Ehrir realized grimly."Can the Thirdborn be part of it, too? Is the crisis... Born by the fail of the assassination attempt?"


    While he analyzed the politics of Tarha-Nan with what little scraps of knowledge he had, the hallway around him changed. It became broader, well-lit and brimming with life. Many soldiers and guards passed the group of sorcerers. A lot of them disappeared into the looming innards of the dozens of doors around the maze of corridors.


    "What is this place?" asked Nidor at one point in a low tone.


    It wasn''t low enough.


    "It''s where we store our equipment, kid", one of the escorting guards looked at the branded boy coldly, but his voice wasn''t disdainful. "It''s not the usual route to take guests through, but we shouldn''t have brought you to the practice yard in the first place."


    The group walked through the remainder of the hallways without uttering a word. Then they entered an isolated garden, covered in luscious green, and went into a far more luxurious building. The crystal towers of the palace - just as fascinating in the daylight as in the night''s veil - stood above their heads.


    The travelling party didn''t spent much more time in the castle''s outskirts. The house - or the mansion, rather - they entered seemed to be used mainly for storing various supplies. The guards mentioned that a lot of lesser nobles used the place as their residence when the king invited them over for a five-day feast to celebrate the new year (as an ancient tradition dictated). Now, there were only servants here.


    The winter residence exited into a giant garden, well-ordered and covered in plants and flowers in all imaginable colors. Amongst them , half-sunk into the ground, stood numerous shards of crystal, usually the size of a grown man. It was a strange, mesmerizing sight. Ehrir could barely stop staring at it and let his eyes gaze off into what lied beyond.


    In the center of the garden stood the castle, bathing in all of its otherworldly beauty. Surrounded by countless defenses, it rested like a crown upon a monarch''s head. Its colorful walls looked frail and delicate, and yet they emanated the feeling of ancient might. There was a subtle aura of magic in the air... This castle wasn''t the work of human beings.


    "What secrets... do you hide?" the Undone One whispered, his voice drowned out by the excited banter of his comrades. He felt his heart pacing faster. His destination was reached... He could rest for a little while now.


    But what if his nemesis waited between these ethereal walls?What if Farnaraen lurked in this palace?


    "What secrets... do you hide?" Ehrir asked again as he took a bold step towards the castle.

 Chapter 40 - Back to the Civilized World

    The palace¡¯s innards were beautiful and alien, graceful and vibrant just as its outer layers. Yet¡­ there was something weird about them.


    Ehrir couldn¡¯t put his finger on what exactly it was. There was a strange feeling around him in the others, lurking in the air and creeping around the corners. It brought nervousness and a disturbing sensation to the Undone One. It was as if something was going on, but no one could see what it really was. The servants, the guards ¨C everyone reeked of undefined, but worrisome emotions.


    The travelling party couldn¡¯t see any noble or a member of the royal family. The people escorting them were led by a skinny, robe-wearing advisor in his late sixties. He outright told the sorcerers that they¡¯ll be going through the corridors used by servants and soldiers.


    ¡°It¡¯d be better this way¡±, the balding man murmured, his face white as a piece of marble. His voice was far from confident. ¡°Given the current situation in His Majesty¡¯s court¡­ You must not be seen by the nobility. A group of mages would be enough to make the whole boiling pot that this place has turned into explode.¡±


    Except for those few bleak lines, the advisor didn¡¯t speak much. He showed them their rooms and quickly left. He warned them not to leave this part of the palace and bitterly commented that their chambers aren¡¯t really fitting for the subordinates of a man as important as Ostrias Haelum.


    In Ehrir¡¯s opinion the advisor was very, very wrong.


    The room given to him seemed almost surreal. It was beautiful, furnished in a luxurious manner and lavishly decorated. Animal skins covered the floor, paintings in thick oak frames hanged on the walls besides small shelves full of scrolls and parchments. Two tall brass chandeliers stood on both sides of the huge fireplace. The room was illuminated by a couples of magical spheres resting in its corners. A set of four small windows looked at the colorful gardens below and the sea of fortifications beyond. The room wasn¡¯t really big in any sense, especially with the massive bed and the wardrobe resting against one of the walls¡­ But it was everything Ehrir could ever wish for. Tears of happiness almost welled up in his eyes when he remembered his time on the streets. He had truly changed and grown during a short few months.


    His chamber was connected to a larger dining room that was the shared point of his and three other dwellings. Of course, their inhabitants were Zaster, Nalia and Varhel. The trio got together by their own volition, and Ehrir had no way to refuse joining in, too. The group formed by the four of them was quite noisy and cheerful. That proved especially clear when they sat together on the table in the middle of the dining room for an extensive breakfast. Several servants brought the disciples whatever they wanted, and the morning was spent in an ungraceful attempt to try every delicious thing that the palace¡¯s chefs provided.


    ¡°What a strange scene¡­¡± Ehrir thought as he gazed calmly at his surroundings during the breakfast. ¡°A legless girl, her flying brother, a talking corpse and an Undone One having a meal together¡­ Inside a room that is made of blueish crystal.¡± Such a moment was worth of a painting, at least.


    The breakfast slowly turned into lunch. The quartet of disciples didn¡¯t even leave the table when the servants brought in plates covered with huge slices of roasted beef and grilled potatoes. Ehrir preferred the sweet pastries that came after that, but the main meal still made him sigh from enjoyment.


    ***


    The Undone One spent the afternoon in a leisurely way, mainly by napping and reading the scrolls in his room. They mostly touched on the matter of the city state¡¯s history, line of rulers and traditions. In just a few short hours the Undone One read nearly a hundred pages worth of historical chronicles and intricate details about the geography, citizens and interesting places to visit in Tarha-Nan.


    Soon the evening slowly crept over the city and the sky outside darkened. The quiet servants brought new wood for the fireplace, and the warmth in Ehrir¡¯s room increased even more. The idea to just lie down on his bed and drift off into slumber was appealing, but he didn¡¯t manage to make it happen.


    Zaster appeared in his room with a loud knock and said that he should get up and follow him. Ehrir did so almost unwillingly, and soon found himself in a larger hall of the palace, where a long table stood by two massive fireplaces. The table was covered in all kinds of dishes, and along it sat most of his fellow disciples and the master sorcerers themselves. Only four chairs were empty.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    They soon dropped down to two, and after another few minutes all of the apprentices were gathered for a long, extensive and delicious dinner. It went on long after Salelia and Sevrian left the hall. The apprentices chatted, played games of dice and cards, drank a lot of alcohol and ate just as much. Ehrir didn¡¯t exclude himself from the fun. After all these weeks he felt relaxed when surrounded by these people, even if without knowing them that well. He actively spoke and took part in the discussions and topics that the others rambled about, even when they (inevitably) turned to politics.


    The apprentices mostly babbled about the situation within the palace and the state as a whole. Yet, a lot of them delved into the politics of the Inner Fantasy as a whole, or of the so-called Union of City States to which Tarha-Nan belonged. Terms and names that Ehrir was unfamiliar with appeared in the conversation multiple times, and he didn¡¯t get to know even half of them. He quickly understood that the High Sovereign was the leader of the Union, but terms such as ¡®the Controller¡¯, ¡®the Lord of Dawn¡¯ and ¡®the Eastern reaches¡¯ remained completely alien to him. He didn¡¯t even try to understand and just butted in rather rarely. He also played quite a few games of dice with Zaster. He was weaker than the zombie and wouldn¡¯t entrust his money on a game of cards with him. Fortunately, the undead man proved to be quite unlucky when it came to dice rolling.


    ¡°We¡¯re actually back into the civilized world now, ain¡¯t we?¡± asked Nalia sarcastically near midnight.


    Ehrir smiled and tried to answer, but Nidor was faster.


    ¡°Hell yeah, we are.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t agree more, boy¡±, Ehrir thought and smirked.


    ***


    ¡°For the first damned time in weeks I got a proper bed and I have to leave it so soon¡­¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right, ya¡¯ know? What is it now?¡±


    ¡°How should I know? The mistress just came to my chambers and said to gather everyone in her residence. It¡¯s not like I issued out the command.¡±


    Ehrir sighed. Led by Nidor, he and his three ¡°roommates¡± seemed dark and sleepy, except for Zaster. The undead man didn¡¯t have the need to sleep except if he was extremely exhausted mentally¡­ And he rarely was. But besides him¡­ Even Varhel was frowning and Nalia didn¡¯t look much better. Countless curses had slipped from the girl¡¯s tongue in the last few minutes.


    ¡°What could Salelia want now?¡± Ehrir asked himself. The witch had probably received some important knowledge¡­ But couldn¡¯t it wait until dawn? Nothing dangerous or life-changing could really happen in just a few hours that remained of the night¡¯s lifetime¡­


    The sorceress and Sevrian had separate chambers, each of them larger than the whole complex which Ehrir and the others inhabited. There was a living room, a dining room and three others beside the bedroom. Several other apprentices were already roaming around when the Undone One arrived. Salelia was there, too, alongside with¡­


    ¡°Who are these guys?¡± Nalia hissed.


    There were five strangely dressed silhouettes standing beside the witch.      Their long, dark, rune-covered cloaks engulfed them from head to toes. Their faces were obscured by a thick veil of shadows, and they remained silent.


    Salelia smiled as the Undone One and the others entered the vast room, and walked towards them.


    ¡°Welcome, apprentices¡± she said in her usual cheery manner. ¡°Nidor, you did well. Can you bring the others here, too?¡±


    ¡°As you wish, mistress¡±, the branded boy uttered and bowed his head before leaving silently. Salelia¡¯s gaze followed him before turning back to the disciples in front of her.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look very good¡­ Sorry for waking you all in the middle night, but I have important news.¡±


    ¡°None of us doubt that you do, mistress¡±, Zaster said before his voice turned into a hoarse, creaking whisper. ¡°Who are these people?¡±


    ¡°Oh¡±, the witch smiled. ¡°They are members of various guilds and organizations¡­ of the more shadowy kind.¡± She lowered her tone a little. ¡°Two of them are killers that took part in the assassination attempt.¡±


    Ehrir swallowed nervously. There was no need to mention which assassination attempt Salelia was talking about. The witch exchanged a few more lines with them before returning to her previous spot.


    Soon all the disciples, along with Sevrian, were already inside the room. The old man didn¡¯t look particularly surprised by the appearance of the cutthroats.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± he said when all the noise around finally quieted down and his voice was the only one resonating in the room. ¡°Can I ask why you came to us, honorable guild members?¡±


    One of the figures nodded and stepped forth before taking off her hood and revealing the gentle, but emotionless and scarred face of a young blonde girl.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be short¡±, she began without hesitation. Her voice was icy. ¡°We¡¯re a group of killers, thieves and mercenaries working for the most elite organizations in this city. Most of us are high-ranked members, too. Not that my particular guild exists in its usual form anymore¡­¡± She shook her head slowly. ¡°We received news from a members of my organizations ¨C the Assassins¡¯ Guild ¨C which appeared in the city today. They told us about a group of sorcerers that are here to track down a very powerful man that lurks in the palace and manipulates the whole state behind the curtains. We want your opinion about what to do with him¡­ And your possible assistance, if you are on our side. No one in the ruling class wants to have the Changeling around and you probably aren¡¯t his best friends, either. We need you. In the end¡­ Only sorcerers can beat a sorcerer, especially if we¡¯re talking about Farnaraen the Thirdborn.¡±

 Interlude - A Man of Great Importance

    "The rulers of the Inner Fantasy change often. Assassinations, royal intrigues... A monarch can hardly keep his throne for more than a couple of decades. But still, there are a few outstanding individuals that have managed to be the heads of their countries for centuries. Such people... They are dangerous. Everything that can last for such a long time is usually dangerous, if a spark of life burns within it."


    An excerpt from "On the Topic of Eternity" by Hanos Saphireblade


    ***


    The city stood still in front of the Seventhborn, bathing in the warm sunlight piercing the skies. It softened the sharp edges of the architecture with its deeply pleasant golden color. The western horizon burned and the glorious sunset continued to prove itself one of the most beautiful that Rehlin had ever seen during his three and a half millennia of life.


    The maze of streets below him was filled with life to the brim. Thousands¡­ No, dozens of thousands roamed them right now. Travelers, natives, non-humans ¨C all of them mixed up and interacted, surrounded by the sharp and majestic buildings. They were more akin to palaces in their size, although none of them could compare to Rehlin''s fortress. There wasn¡¯t a bad looking edge in this city ¨C all of the poor parts were laying beyond its massive walls. The center seemed flawless and eternal in its graceful, polished beauty.


    ¡°Truly a place worthy of being called the pearl of the Western reaches¡±, the High Lord of all Changelings murmured to himself.


    The Seventhborn stood atop a lavish, luxurious, ancient and well-decorated balcony on the top of the city¡¯s biggest palace. Before the ancient sorcerer rested a table full of the finest dishes and drinks available. He didn¡¯t have the appetite to try more than just a few slices of rare, exotic fruits, but happily drank few goblets worth of expensive wines.


    The Changelings was nervous. He came to this city ¨C to the capital of one of the most influential countries in the Inner Fantasy ¨C to seek an audience with a particular person. And in the face of this ruler ¨C of this beast of a man ¨C he could not show even a slight trace of disrespect. It was somewhat infuriating ¨C he, who bore thousands of years of experience and knowledge on his shoulders, was seeking help and advice from some five-century old youngling.


    No, not just some youngling. Rehlin shook his head. This wasn¡¯t the correct way to think about this particular man.


    The High Lord was waiting for more than half an hour now, but it was a wonder that he was accepted so fast in the first place. The ruler of this city¡­ of this country¡­ he was often too busy shaping the politics of the whole Inner Fantasy, sometimes with his mere presence at certain events. But still¡­ He probably couldn¡¯t just ignore Rehlin.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The Seventhborn smiled faintly. Being the leader of all Changelings in the world made his rank significant enough to cut the waiting time¡­ And helped to provide him with a classy dinner, too.


    ¡°You look lively as always, Rehlin.¡± A voice sounded from the door of the balcony as it swung wide open.


    The Changeling jumped to his feet and quickly bowed to the man approaching him. He smiled at him and waved his hand.


    ¡°No need for formalities. We¡¯re equals, Rehlin. Let¡¯s just sit down and enjoy the dinner.¡±


    The Seventhborn nodded and sank in his chair.


    The ruler sat against him. He was widely regarded as beautiful, with his sharp gaze, well-proportioned face, masculine jaw and muscular, athletic body frame. His shoulder-length, dark brown hair fit along nicely with his trimmed, short beard. The usual gem-covered crown wasn¡¯t resting on his head. The richly ornamented armor which he was drawn with in most of the portraits hanging around the palace was also absent. Yet, even in the simple red, long leather coat he wore, he still emanated an aura of power that felt almost supernatural. Rehlin swallowed. The High Lord probably couldn¡¯t achieve the same effect even in the legendary battle attire of the Firstborn.


    ¡°So, Rehlin¡­¡± The man smiled warmly and poured himself a goblet of rum. ¡°Why have you come to me?¡±


    The Seventhborn quietly sighed and sipped from his wine before answering.


    ¡°Lord Ergael¡­¡± he began unconfidently, his gaze constantly darting between the man¡¯s face and the silver goblet in his hand. ¡°I¡¯m seeking your advice and help.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve figured out as much.¡± Ergael shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re allies after all, aren¡¯t we? You can always ask me for help, Rehlin.¡±


    The High Lord nodded and licked his lips before beginning to talk again.


    ¡°I have¡­ Important news. Of the type that can shake the whole Inner Fantasy, to a degree.¡±


    ¡°And what would that be?¡±


    ¡°The First Generation of Changelings¡­¡± Rehlin¡¯s voice was unsure and trembling. ¡°One of them is still alive.¡±


    Ergael¡¯s eyes widened a little, but his face remained calm¡­ Stone-like, even.


    "Which one?" he asked in a rather grave tone.


    "Farnaraen", Rehlin hissed.


    Ergael nodded. His fingers were frantically tapping on the table. He reached out for his goblet and gulped it down.


    "The Thirdborn... He is your ruler by law, then?"


    "He is." Regret filled Rehlin''s voice.


    "I see..." The ruler frowned a little. "We can''t let him have your throne. He is too unpredictable to have that kind of authority. But still... We need him by our side."


    "I fear... that this is impossible without giving him my title", whispered the High Lord.


    Ergael smirked.


    "Oh, believe me, I have my ways to achieve things."


    "You undoubtedly do, Lord... But he is too hideous for that, I''m afraid. He''s the Thirdborn, after all." Rehlin gazed towards the city underneath him. Nothing there had changed since he began the audience with Ergael, but in this short amount of time a vague, heavy kind of despair overtook his heart.


    Ergael smiled again.


    "All the western parts of the Inner Fantasy bow down before me, Rehlin, and say that I''m the most powerful mage and monarch around. Farnaraen is a relic from the old times. And he is alone, if I have to guess. What can he do against me? What can he do againstthe Lord of Dawn?"


    Rehlin smiled faintly and nodded in an unsure manner.


    "Perhaps you are right, lord... Perhaps you are."

 Chapter 41 - Ideas for Assassination

    ¡°We can¡¯t fight such a man¡±, Nidor uttered quietly while shaking his head in a slow, almost hypnotic manner. A shocked expression still hung on his face. ¡°For hell¡¯s sake¡­ He¡¯s a living myth.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t plan to confront him¡­ Not directly, at least.¡± The blonde girl remarked coldly. She hadn¡¯t mentioned her name. ¡°My guild tried once¡­ And now we¡¯re just a couple of lucky survivors with a crippled master that obeys his every command.¡±


    ¡°And yet¡­ You seek the death of Arleon?¡± Sevrian asked.


    The young woman nodded. She announced the plan to assassinate the Thirdborn¡¯s apprentice a mere few minutes ago.


    ¡°Of course we do. We can¡¯t just stand around while Farnaraen seizes control over our city¡±, one of the other guild members mumbled in a low, hoarse voice. He and his comrades were still covered from head to toe. Only the blonde girl revealed her face before the sorcerers.


    ¡°I understand you¡­¡± The old man nodded. ¡°We are one of your last hopes, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± One of the cloaked figures shook its head quickly. ¡°You are the last hope for us. At least in Tarha-Nan. But there aren¡¯t much people that can assists us outside the city, either.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­ You¡¯re not wrong to come to us, although it shows quite some desperation. And it isn¡¯t very thought-out, too.¡±


    ?How so?¡± The blonde girl hissed at the old sorcerer in a challenging way.


    ¡°Have you thought about the possibility that we can be his allies? That we¡¯ve deceived everyone, your comrades included, and are servants of the glorious Thirdborn?¡±


    ¡°Nah¡­¡± the girl cackled in an unhappy way and shook her head. ¡°You can¡¯t be.¡± She smirked faintly. ¡°We wouldn¡¯t be still standing here if you were.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ You¡¯re right, young lady.¡±


    ¡°Then can you explain which side are you on, exactly?¡±


    Sevrian began talking without hurrying. Ehrir stopped listening after a few sentences and looked around the room. All the disciples were sitting or standing in silence with gloomy expressions. Salelia¡¯s apprentices had just learned of the Thirdborn by the blonde assassin¡¯s words and they reacted with curiosity at best and fear at worst. Most of them looked disheartened, in any case. Varhel, Nalia and the Undone One weren¡¯t much better, as all three of them were frowning.


    Ehrir didn¡¯t happy. He hid the truth about Farnaraen from the others, and that (partially) led to their currently abysmal mood. There were more factors invoking a grim sensation within his gut, too.


    For one, his worries came true. He learned how terrible of a failure the assassination attempt turned out to be, and how Mor-Ael¡¯s guild crumbled over the course of just one long, bloody night. How the city was on the verge of chaos and turmoil, but it remained peaceful only because Farnaraen managed to silence most of the witnesses of his incredibly violent acts. How the Thirdborn turned the Great Master of the assassins into an obedient, crippled man. How the other organizations in the city were hesitant to act, afraid of the lurking, dark presence of the Changeling looming above the palace and spreading towards all of Tarha-Nan. The situation was desperate.


    The travelling party¡¯s mission wasn¡¯t going well, either.


    Arleon wasn¡¯t in the city of cutthroats, unlike his master. The guild members revealed that he was sent into the lair of the High Sovereign himself, in some distant settlement laying far to the southwest. His mission there was to utilize his friendship with the ruler¡¯s first advisor and expand the influence of his master to the whole Union of City States. Now Ehrir¡¯s group had to contact the Ashen Gaze and announce that their task to find Arleon in was failed. And nobody really knew where Ostrias could send them off to next¡­


    Ehrir gritted his teeth. It was far too early for him to even see Farnaraen. He felt the barely suppressed anger and hate towards the Thirdborn that ran through his veins, burning his insides like molten iron. Despite this, the Undone One also sensed his own weakness. His skills in magic and combat were bettered and refined in the last few weeks, but¡­ The Changeling was still as far from him as the sky itself in terms of power.


    Ehrir sank deeper and deeper into his own bleak thoughts as the night went on and the discussions between the guild members and the elder wizards grew more and more intense. Salelia and the old man couldn¡¯t agree to help the girl and her faceless companions, at least not without seeking advice from the Ashen Gaze first.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°We don¡¯t want Arleon to die¡­ At least our master doesn¡¯t¡±, said Sevrian many times during this exhausting talk. And still, he and the witch patiently listened to the guild members¡¯ proposals to kill the Thirdborn¡¯s underling. They refrained from giving them any critiques or advice in that regard. ¡°They probably don¡¯t know how to kill him, either¡±, Ehrir thought bitterly. Arleon was a servant to Farnaraen, but he was still as old and (perhaps) as strong as Ostrias.


    The new day steadily crept over the world and brought a warm dawn for the group of disheartened sorcerers.


    ***


    The second breakfast for Ehrir in the palace wasn¡¯t as happy and carefree as the first one. There was a heavy, ominous silence in the air, and it made the people around the table unusually quiet and unresponsive. Zaster was particularly silent, and although no one could tell what he was feeling or thinking by his face or gestures, Ehrir judged that he was deep in thoughts.


    The morning passed the Undone One by without anything of importance happening. Ehrir was actually relieved when Sevrian swept by and announced that he and the others should prepare to leave the palace. The disciples were to be moved to the city along with their masters.


    The Undone One felt regret over that going away from the castle. It was ridden with an intense nervousness, but it was beautiful, vast and comfortable. He was going to miss it.


    The city that laid before him, on the other hand, was the polar opposite of the crystal palace. Dark, dirty and filled with people to the brim, Tarha-Nan didn¡¯t give off pleasant vibes at first glance. The sharp, pointy and practical architecture of the buildings invoked a sense of bleakness. ¡°And everything is made from damned stone, too¡­¡± Ehrir thought. The pavement beneath his feet, every wall, roof and door frame¡­ There wasn¡¯t a single entirely wooden house in the whole city, just monotone granite dwellings.


    Even so, the richer parts of Tarha-Nan weren¡¯t ugly. They just looked more like a still cemetery monuments than places where actual people would live. There was a grave sort of beauty to them, but it wasn¡¯t graceful, cozy or elegant.


    The inn which the party moved in wasn¡¯t that bad, at least from the inside. Still, its compact, warm rooms paled in comparisons to those of the palace. The servants were far fewer and the food wasn¡¯t as good, but¡­ It was far better than what Ehrir and his comrades had to endure in the wilderness. Hot food, tall windows, cold drinks and soft beds ¨C everything was comfortable and good overall, despite its somewhat bland appearance.


    The Undone One happened to share a room with Nidor, and he got to behold the branded boy¡¯s low mood extensively. He was free to roam the city¡¯s streets, but he didn¡¯t want to. The remainder of the day was spent either trying to cheer his roommate up, or by reading parts of ¡°The Sorcerer¡¯s Book¡±. His trusty magical sword rested in its sheath, hanging on a nail on the wall next to his bed.


    Sevrian came by Ehrir¡¯s room by dusk. His face was stony and stern.


    ¡°I contacted master Ostrias¡±, he announced with a dry tone. ¡°The communication item he handled me back on the seashore didn¡¯t work flawlessly, but¡­ It did, nonetheless.¡± He sighed. ¡°He said that things in the Inner Fantasy have¡­ changed, to put it simply. His ally who is in search of Arleon doesn¡¯t seek him anymore. In fact¡­ The master mentioned that the Changeling has become dangerous.¡± The old man went silent for a second. ¡°It would be a relief if he dies, he said.¡±


    The Undone One felt a cold chill crawl down his spine. The hair on his neck stood up immediately.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be blunt¡±, Sevrian resumed his speech. ¡°Master Ostrias agrees to let us help the guild members in assassinating Arleon. He encourages it, even. The Changeling has turned into an enemy of his, for some reason.¡±


    Nidor didn¡¯t respond, just stared at Sevrian and slowly nodded. Ehrir didn¡¯t stay so quiet.


    ¡°So¡­ we¡¯re going to travel to the city of the High Sovereign now?¡± he asked bitterly. The possibility of another long trip looming around the corner wasn¡¯t exactly pleasant. He longed for the comforting embrace and the kind of rest only a city could provide, even if it was as dark and unwelcoming as Tarha-Nan.


    ¡°No¡±, the master magician shook his head. ¡°At least not until we have a good plan on what to do. We must exchange a word or two with the guild members about this whole ordeal, too.¡±


    Sevrian rambled a little more before leaving the room and departing with the disciples.


    The rest of the evening was spent in a boring way, except for the dinner, which was served to the Undone One and his comrade in their chambers.


    ¡°Hey¡­ Ehrir?¡± asked the young man while devouring the wings of a roasted chicken.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ an Undone One, right?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Is¡­ Is Arleon the one that is responsible for you¡­ being such?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ It¡¯s Farnaraen, believe it or not.¡±


    ¡°Are you¡­ Angry at him for making you this way?¡±


    ¡°I am¡±, uttered Ehrir, barely hiding his hatred behind a calm face.


    ¡°Do you want to kill him?¡± The youngling¡¯s tone was gravely serious.


    ¡°I¡­ I do.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­ At least Arleon may prove to be a fine training in killing Changelings for you.¡± Nidor smiled bitterly before raising his glass of apple cider. ¡°Cheers.¡±


    ¡°Cheers¡±, said Ehrir before gulping down his own cup of weak wine. He felt strangely, somewhat important for the whole upcoming ordeal. And yet¡­ He was also small and insignificant in the face of the world. Perhaps he was both.


    Perhaps he was.

 Chapter 42 - Against the Flow of Destiny

    Mor-Ael gazed through the window in front of him, watching as the people on the street below moved slowly, oblivious to the tragedy that had befallen the Guild¡­ And the whole city, perhaps.


    The assassin shook his head silently. The simple folk¡­ They wouldn¡¯t care if their ruler changed or if one of Tarha-Nan¡¯s key organizations was destroyed. Hell, if he was one of them¡­ He would be fucking ignorant, too.


    Anger bubbled within Mor-Ael, his facial features twisting. Hatred burned within him, combined with the feeling of overwhelming, crushing failure. He feared the possibility of the Guild being destroyed, but he hoped for the outcome to not be so severe. Only recently he saw the Great Master, missing both his legs and almost mindless in his obedience to the¡­ Thirdborn.


    The assassin cursed silently. He couldn¡¯t fathom the real identity of the sorcerer yet, but he still managed to believe it. His teammates¡¯ reactions weren¡¯t much better than his own when the other guild members informed them. Rage, sadness, dull longing for vengeance¡­ Emotions that were meaningless without actions.


    Mor-Ael turned around and began to dress up in his familiar assassin''s attire. The coat, the pants, the gloves ¨C everything was engulfed inthat greyish color, far too familiar for him. The guild¡¯s color. Even the Great Master rarely wore something more vibrant than this dark, comforting palette. Now these clothes¡­ They were devoid of meaning, too.


    As the assassin equipped and hid his many daggers, needles and other weapons, he inspected his surrounding with hateful, dull eyes. The remaining members of the guild gave him this small room in an inn in a desperate attempt to hide him from Farnaraen. Other members of the guild that waited outside of Tarha-Nan were also scattered amongst secret chambers, taverns, basements and attics around the city, hiding from the Changeling. There were few meetings of the remaining assassins, but they yielded no results. Everyone wanted to wait out until everything was calm within the state.


    But Mor-Ael couldn¡¯t just lay low and torture his mind. He had to wander the streets, at least, but his goal wasn¡¯t this simple and mindless. He wanted to collect information, whatever it would be. He longed to hear any little detail about the political situation, even if it came from the mouths of the commoners. There was an unpleasant kind of omen hanging over the city, and even the lowest of citizens sensed that something was wrong.


    Mor-Ael could feel this undefined nervousness as he exited the inn and traversed the streets. His ''uniform'' was concealed by a brown, ordinary linen cloak. A hood obscured his face, casting deep shadows over it. He wasn''t any different than the many suspicious silhouettes lurking around during the day¡­ and killing mercilessly during the night.


    Actually¡­ That wasn¡¯t too far from the truth. Since he arrived in Tarha-Nan, he murdered well over a dozen people in the darkness'' comfortable embrace. The night in the city wasn¡¯t the same as in the forest. He was the predator here, hunting down his enemies with precision and coldness.


    Those falling under his blade were traitors, spies, underlings of the Thirdborn¡­ And members of his own guild. Other assassins told him that a small number of their comrades became Farnaraen¡¯s servants returning to the city. Fortunately, they provided him with names.


    Nobody knew about these quiet, calculated murders he carried out over the course of the last few days. His targets were spineless, meek, traitorous¡­ They didn''t deserve to live. And they easily died from Mor-Ael¡¯s sudden blows, poisonous blades and magical artifacts. The assassin thought that seeking them out and dealing with them was just a little favor for the guild. And he felt obliged to do it.


    Today the assassin planned to slay another of those miserable betrayers. He had more than enough time to seek one of them out. Dusk was still far away, and the city¡­ Sometimes it proved to be too small for someone to hide from Mor-Ael.


    ***


    Farnaraen stood atop a roof, cloaked in an optical illusion ¨C a simple thing made with delicately used Manipulation. One could stand right next to the Changeling and yet he wouldn¡¯t be able to see him.


    The Thirdborn watched the maze of streets below, waiting in silence for something to happen.


    There were killings going on. His servants - and especially those from the Assassins'' Guild - were being slain one by one by some unknown figure, and he had to take measures against that.


    ¡°If I knew how troubling the path of changing fate is¡­¡± thought Farnaraen bitterly and shook his head. He had to achieve it, no matter what. Small troubles such as this one were mere annoyances in his way.


    One of the Changeling¡¯s agents ¨C previously an elite assassin of the organization that he had singlehandedly destroyed ¨C waited in one of the rooms below his feet. All of his other underlings hid inside the king¡¯s palace. The Thirdborn was sure that the unknown attacker would strike again tonight, and he left only one choice for the troubling murderer. Ambushing and killing him was a necessity¡­ Farnaraen had enough annoyances on his head already to let that one slip by.


    The city around the Thirdborn was slowly being covered by the veil of darkness that steadily descended upon it. The Changeling felt comfortable this way, just observing from the side, hidden by his magic. He could enjoy such calm, quiet moments less and less after he arrived in Tarha-Nan and began the mad game to take control over the Union of City States. It was a hard, risky gamble with power and time, but he had to do it. The Lake of Broken Chains¡­ It showed him the opposite. It showed him a future where he ignored the Outer Fantasy completely. And he had to act against most things foretold by the Lake, even if he didn¡¯t like it. That was the only way to prevent the event, whatever it could be¡­ A war, perhaps? Or something like the Ascension Crisis?


    Farnaraen stayed lost in his thoughts and somewhat distanced from the surroundings. And yet his senses were sharper than a brand new blade.


    The Changeling kept his position as the gentle reddish rays of the moon filled the skies and shone upon him.


    ***


    ¡°It¡¯s fucking ridiculous¡±, thought Mor-Ael as he traversed the fastly emptying streets in a semi-quick pace. He had many ways to acquire information, and although a lot of his providers were afraid after the Guild''s slaughter, they still gathered precious knowledge¡­ For higher than the usual price, of course. All of them could locate only one traitor today, and that was somewhat weird. Usually there were half a dozen of them lurking around every night, although he never dared to kill more than a couple at a time.


    Maybe someone was trying to ambush him?


    Mor-Ael shook his head. He wouldn¡¯t be seen if he was careful enough, even if there was a pack of steel-clad knights waiting for him. And he didn¡¯t want to return to the cold, plain room of the inn, filled with loneliness and the unpleasant thoughts that it effortlessly managed to invoke within him. Perhaps, if his dagger tasted some blood tonight, he could sleep in peace.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    His sources told him that the former guild member owned a room at a building in one of Tarha-Nan¡¯s poorer districts. He was supposed to be there right now, having a meeting with some thugs. The purpose of that meeting? Nobody knew, but it didn¡¯t matter to Mor-Ael. He was more than happy to slit the throat of any bastard that got in his way.


    Finding the particular building wasn¡¯t hard. The assassin was familiar with the layout of the whole city, and the directions given to him were fairly detailed. As he walked faster and faster, the air around him became colder. The details of the environment started to get lost in the creeping darkness, while less and less people could be seen on the streets. Most of them looked as shady and suspicious as Mor-Ael, if not even more so. Covered in cloak and nicely merging with the newborn night, some of them were guild members, undoubtedly.


    When he reached the location, the district around Mor-Ael was already empty and silent. Who knew what could be going on in the buildings around him¡­ Killings, prostitution, the trade of drugs and weapons ¨C all those things were common sight in the poor parts of the city. Still, most of these crimes were kept behind closed doors.


    The building in which the traitor resided was lying before the assassin¡¯s gaze, most of its windows tightly shut. From one of them ¨C located on the third floor ¨C shone a faint light, probably emitted by candles. That had to be the traitor¡¯s lair. The third floor from the left side of the place, the information dealers told Mor-Ael.


    The assassin turned around, went into one of the side alleys and was soon climbing the wall of a nearby house.


    ***


    Just when Farnaraen thought that the little troublemaker wouldn¡¯t show up, something moved on a nearby roof.


    The Changeling turned his head and was greeted with the sight of a cloaked man squatting on the stone slabs of a house just two dozen steps away from his position. The Thirdborn immediately Manipulated the sound waves around him and thickened the illusion engulfing his body. A faint smile bloomed on his face. For all intents and purposes, he was now completely invisible and inaudible.


    Farnaraen watched as the man lurked around and gazed continuously at the room right below him. He looked absorbed in this activity, but kept being cautious, throwing numerous glances at his surroundings. His way of doing things was sleek and professional. The Thirdborn frowned. Another fine man had to die because of opposing him. A bitter sensation emerged within his gut. This... Assassin, by the looks of it, could''ve been one of his own comrades. A deep sigh escaped the Changeling''s lips.


    He continued to stand and stare as the man disappeared from the roof and soon emerged on the street down below. Before the Changeling could even blink, he had already entered the building by burning its door to ashes with a Destruction spell.


    Was he a magician? No... Farnaraen felt a hidden artifact activating upon the stranger''s body.


    "Well, this can prove to be interesting."


    ***


    Mor-Ael entered through the front door of the traitor''s room after inspecting it through the lock for several minutes. It looked like the man was alone, despite the rumors about a meeting.


    The assassin went in with a bang, opening the door with a kick that swung it right open. He threw a couple of quick glances at the sides of the place and then jumped forwards, aiming at the betrayer''s throat. One of his daggers emerged from his sleeve. Its polished blade bathed in the light of the few candles illuminating the room.


    But the weapon didn''t manage to reach its target.


    Something... Paralyzed him. His muscles stopped working, and he crumbled down to the floor. Meanwhile the damned traitor just stood there. His eyes were wide and fearful. But not shocked. Paralyzing magic... Concentrated shockwaves rippling through his body and turning his flesh into a soft, useless substance. It was painful, but not unbearable.


    Nobody in the guild possesed artifacts of such nature and level of power, as far as Mor-Ael was aware. Was something of greater power at play here? A magician?


    The assassin cursed himself as a familiar voice sounded behind his back. He would shiver if he could.


    "Go now. I won''t need you anymore."


    "As you wish, master."


    A hand firmly grabbed Mor-Ael''s hair and turned his face upwards. A beautiful man with violet eyes, silvery blonde beard and hair came into view.


    "Well, aren''t you a serious bugger?" Farnaraen asked while frowning.


    ***


    The Thirdborn stopped the barrage of shock waves that he was bombarding the assassin with, but only after he confined the man with Manipulation. Now he was laying on the floor, bound by a set of interconnected shackles on his arms and ankles.


    Farnaraen sat upon a nearby chair. The room around him was plain and cold, and the few candles barely managed to fend off the darkness. The Changeling quickly created a sphere of light that bathed the room in golden glow and warmth.


    "Now...", he began speaking in a rather polite manner. "Do you mind telling me why exactly are you killing my men?"


    There was no answer. Just as expected.


    "You know I''ll have to hurt you if you don''t speak up, don''t you?"


    "Hurt me all you want, you bastard, but I won''t say a word", the man hissed while gritting his teeth.


    Farnaraen smiled in a surprisingly sad manner.


    "I don''t want to kill or cripple you, do you know that?"


    "You don''t?" The man laughed. It sounded more like a dog''s barking. "You erased hundreds of lifes for one night... And you don''t want to kill me?"


    So, this man was an assassin. Farnaraen sighed.


    "I''m sorry for your guild. But you attacked me first. I just defended myself."


    "You were a threat." The stranger spat on the ground. "It''s the Assassins'' Guild we''re talking about, damn it... What else could you expect?"


    "I didn''t do any harm to you or your organization. You were the ones attacking... It was a shame that so many people had to die, but I can''t afford to be killed."


    "You can''taffordit? How hypocritical."


    "I''m not lying... What is your name?"


    ***


    Mor-Ael barked out his name in a low, angry manner, but he still did it. Hell, the Changeling - thefuckingThirdborn - was going to kill him anyway. He didn''t have much to lose.


    "Well, Mor-Ael..." The bastard smiled. "I would''ve died already, if I could."


    The assassin didn''t answer. Why was he having this conversation in the first place? The very feeling to lie down and talk with Farnaraen was unreal.


    "See, Mor-Ael - I don''t want any of this." The Thirdborn''s voice was calm and confident, and even somewhat charming. "I came to this place because I want one thing. Don''t misunderstand me - I long for death. I wish it. But I cannot embrace it before I accomplish my goal."


    "And what would that be?" Mor-Ael didn''t trust the Changeling''s words, but he wanted to prolong this conversation as much as possible. In the end, it probably was going to be his last one.


    "I aim to change the flow of destiny." Farnaraen''s words were gravely serious. The smile disappeared from his face. "It''s a colossal, inhuman task, Mor-Ael. I was naive and cowardly. I failed because of being too soft. But I was given a second chance. And I strive to succeed this time around, whatever I have to do. Your guild... It wasn''t involved in my plans or my visions of the future, but its members tried to end my life. And that can''t be allowed."


    "What''s he blabbering about?"Mor-Ael asked himself. The flow of destiny? A colossal, inhuman task? It all sounded like bullshit to the assassin.


    "Fuck you and your damned destiny", he roared. The anger inside of him finally came to the surface. "You''re a FUCKINGkiller! Nothing more, nothing less! And I''ll die gladly, but I won''t tell you nothing more than my own damned name."


    "I didn''t want to know much. Just if there are other members of the guild like you, who are trying to oppose..."


    Farnaraen stopped in the middle of his words, as Mor-Ael activated some of his artifacts at that very moment. A swarm of flames flew towards the Thirdborn, and a cloud of poisonous gas filled the room. It suddenly became much colder, too.


    The Changeling easily contaminated and destroyed every one of these spells with ease. A frail, sad smile bloomed on his masculine face, making it even prettier.


    "Well, I guess I''ll have to try with force", he uttered slowly. "Sorry for everything I''m going to do to you. But you''re in the way of altering fate."


    No screams sounded from the room during that night, but the morning sunlight shone upon a floor covered in blood.

 Chapter 43 - Hunting Down the Troublemakers

    The remaining members of the Assassins¡¯ Guild found Mor-Ael ¨C or what was left of him ¨C in front of their headquarters.


    The corpse was laid before the front gate of the dark, seven story tall building, simple and sturdy in its structure. It stood just a few blocks away from the noblemen¡¯s district. Not too long ago it often housed at least a hundred people at all times. Now there were hardly twenty residing in it.


    All of them rushed out of the building once someone noticed the bloody pile of flesh on the street''s pavement. It was early morning and no one could be seen around. The assassins were first to notice it.


    No one dared to touch the corpse until their higher up ¨C a young woman named Skarlia ¨C showed up.


    ¡°We can¡¯t talk to the Great Master about it¡±, she judged upon seeing it while shaking her head. Her hand ran through the stream of blonde hair reaching down to the middle of her back. ¡°Hell, this poor soul is wearing the clothes of our guild. He¡¯s one of us.¡±


    ¡°Who could¡¯ve done such a thing?¡± There was disgust and scorn in the voice of one of the men around.


    ¡°The Thirdborn or one of his underling. That¡¯s who¡± Skarlia hissed hatefully. ¡°Turn him around. I want to see his face.¡±


    One of the assassins obeyed the command quietly, but couldn¡¯t stop the sharp breath that escaped his lips upon unveiling the dead man¡¯s face. Slightly shocked expression emerged on the faces of the other guild members around, but Skarlia¡¯s remained emotionless.


    ¡°His name¡­ was Mor-Ael, wasn¡¯t it?¡± she asked.


    ¡°It was. I knew him.¡± One of the men on the right of the blonde woman nodded sharply. ¡°He was one of the elites of the guild. Not a high-ranking one, but he was.¡±


    ¡°Damn it¡­ Is someone trying to send us a message with this kind of crap?¡± another assassin uttered, almost whispering.


    ¡°It looks like it.¡± Skarlia shrugged.


    Half of the skin on Mor-Ael¡¯s head was peeled off, revealing a landscape of veins and reddish meat soaked in blood that was still wet. His right eye was gouged out with a blade, leaving only a dark, scarlet pit in its place. His other eye was glassy and vacant. Undoubtedly dead. One of his ears was missing. Cut off, probably. His expression was twisted into a raw portrait of intense pain and horror. Parts of his lips were cut out, too, leaving his teeth bare. They were covered in dried up blood.


    Most of his body was in pretty bad condition too, being covered in bruises, cuts and various other wounds. They were clearly visible underneath the ragged, heavily torn clothes. Skarlia recognized that all of them were delivered by someone without finesse, someone outside of her branch of work. A lot of the damage was done after Mor-Ael had died, she could tell. ¡°But why?¡± the blonde girl asked herself. Was it really a message?


    The answer presented itself in the form of a piece of parchment tucked into one of the corpse¡¯s pockets. The assassins found it only after they brought Mor-Ael into the building and began inspecting him. There was nothing on the corpse, except for the parchment. Still, Skarlia had to sit and watch the examination until the end. She felt obliged to do it.


    Mor-Ael was missing three fingers, a piece of his tongue and seven of his toes. Even so, the assassins confirmed her thoughts and proclaimed and most of his wound were dealt after the moment of death, albeit very shortly afterwards.


    The contents of the parchment were a mere few sentences, but they made Skarlia¡¯s blood freeze in her veins.


    It began with a simple statement.


    ¡°I killed Mor-Ael because he opposed me.


    He slayed my servants under the disguise of the night, and he actively tried to ruin my plans. I couldn¡¯t let him live. I hope he acted separate from your Guild. If this isn¡¯t the case¡­ Maybe you haven¡¯t learned your lesson and I¡¯ll have to eradicate all of you. And I¡¯m only saying ¡®if¡¯ because Mor-Ael didn¡¯t say a word about a conspiracy against me, even if there was such a thing going on. This man¡­ He was very brave and endured everything I put him through. The world truly lost a good man.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    In any case, I¡¯ll discuss the current events with your honorable Great Master. I¡¯m assuming this letter hasn¡¯t gotten to his hands yet. And if my worries are true and someone in your organization is plotting against me, it probably never will.


    As a final word, I¡¯ll give you a small bit of advice. You better never go against me. Not your whole Guild nor a single member of it. I won¡¯t be as merciful the next time around.¡±


    Skarlia found herself with a fast-pacing heart, hammering in her chest after she finished reading the note, written in a graceful manner with a steady hand. Even the parchment it was inscribed upon wasn¡¯t cheap, and it permeated the faint scent of thick and yet majestic perfume. ¡°This¡­ It¡¯s sent by the Thirdborn.¡± Skarlia realized this long ago, but she didn''t want to admit it.


    ¡°For hell¡¯s sake¡­¡± The words escaped her lips in a low murmur. ¡°Mor-Ael, what the hell did you get yourself into?¡±


    ***


    Farnaraen walked into the throne room of Tarha-Nan¡¯s king with a confident and cheerful step. Yet, his expression was grave.


    The Thirdborn felt a bitter taste in his mouth after all he had done with the assassin. The poor man had died long before the real nasty wounds on his body were created, but the Changeling still felt regret and sadness over the whole ordeal. ¡°Shield yourself from the feelings¡±, a voice inside of him whispered. ¡°You can¡¯t allow yourself to sense regret over such a small thing.¡±


    The voice sounded cruel and merciless, but it was right. Farnaraen¡¯s face turned into a steel mask. He had to deal with some things before he could just stand around and sink into his dark thoughts.


    It was still relatively early in the morning. But king Broh-Aer II, monarch of the city of cutthroats, protected by all the crime organizations aroubd and (presumably) the Crescent Master himself, sat on his throne and spoke with a number of advisors. The man ¨C noble in his speech, attire and mannerisms, and yet having posture that was far from noble and a face bearing the marks of small pox ¨C was protected by half a dozen guards. They were well-trained, muscular brutes in top-class armor and they surely knew the Changeling''s identity. Still, they would be no obstacle for Farnaraen if he wished to hurt their ruler.


    The king¡¯s eyes widened when he saw the Thirdborn approaching and he was quick to dismiss his advisors. They obeyed his command silently, but with sourness written all over their faces.


    ¡°What brings you here today?¡± Broh-Aer¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t hostile, but there was a certain kind of coldness to it. ¡°You can¡¯t walk around this openly. You said it yourself a few days ago.¡±


    ¡°I did, but¡­¡± the Changeling made a dismissive gesture with his hand. ¡°The matter I want to speak about is rather urgent.¡±


    ¡°And what would that be?¡±


    Farnaraen didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead he looked around, letting the ethereal beauty of the palace fill his senses. Every little bit of the crystal blue and greenish walls (with the occasional specks of pink and purple) was crafted with incredible mastery. The huge supporting pillars, the intricate ornaments upon the doorframes and walls¡­. It felt like humans didn¡¯t really belong here. Even the throne upon which the king sat was far from most other thrones seen by the Thirdborn in his lifetime, at least when it came to structure and design. The sight of the hall calmed him a little bit.


    ¡°I want to take action against what¡¯s left of the Assassins¡¯ Guild. And I thought you should be informed of that decision¡±, he proclaimed slowly and indifferently. His words were nowhere near a question, just a plain and simple statement.


    The king¡¯s face darkened.


    ¡°What more can you do to them? I won¡¯t allow for more violence against their ranks, understand?¡± His voice was mighty and charismatic, but it somehow couldn¡¯t stand next to the Thirdborn¡¯s calm and collected sentences, cutting like daggers.


    ¡°I do not wish to kill them.¡± Farnaraen shook his head. ¡°I need to pry some information from the assassins, and I would like you to help me¡­ I promise that all of them will come out of this unharmed.¡±


    ¡°And why do I have to help you in this deed?¡±


    "Because it''d be far quicker and smoother if you do so, Broh-Aer."


    The king sighed and shook his head.


    "What have they done this time?"


    The Thirdborn smiled faintly.


    "One of them went around killing my people left and right. I have to know if he worked alone or with the assistance of other... rebellious guild members, so to speak."


    "I presume he''s head, isn''t he?"


    "He is. He didn''t say a word before his last breath."


    "Fine. For hell''s sake..." The monarch glanced at his own luxurious attire while frowning. His boots, coat and mantle were well made, but definitely not too spectacular. They didn''t match his ordinary, even slightly unattractive face. "I''ll lend you the people necessary to carry out this task. But you won''t hurt an assassin without asking for me first, you hear?"


    "I do... Your Majesty."


    The king didn''t answer. Farnaraen knew that he sensed the ironic tint in his words, but the monarch said nothing nonetheless. In a way, it was another small victory for the Thirdborn.


    The Changeling left the throne hall without hesitation. One of the guards at the entrance glanced at the two bloody marks on his sleeves - memories from Mor-Ael - but quickly averted his gaze.


    Farnaraen shook his head. He had to crush every form of resistance in Tarha-Nan and hunt down every little troublemaker left in the city. Even if it was unpleasant for him.


    And there probably were plenty of troublemakers to worry about.

 Chapter 44 - A Myriad of Bad News

    Ehrir got fed up with the outlook and people of Tarha-Nan rather quickly, or at least of the district where he resided. The master sorcerers and the guild members mentioned multiple times that he and the others shouldn¡¯t wander too far from the inn, and the disciples obeyed the command.


    The collection of streets and bland buildings around weren¡¯t interesting to gaze at nor very pleasant for the eye. The citizens wandering around were primarily commoners. There weren¡¯t many shops in the vicinity, either. The Undone One chose to spend most of his time in the inn or other taverns. He regularly went out for short walks with other apprentices (mainly Zaster), but a heavy sense of boredom burdened his heart. He longed to see other, more interesting parts of the city, and the urge to do exactly that grew with each passing hour.


    Tarha-Nan turned out to be somewhat more intriguing that Ehrir had thought it to be. After long talks with the inn¡¯s guests and dozens of questions, he learned that the city possessed a lot of places worth visiting. Dark public gardens filled with life-like statues, cathedrals built in the name of the widely recognized local deity (the Crescent Master) and other unusual monuments and buildings dotted the layout.


    There were also the catacombs.


    The locals talked about them in low, indifferent tones, but most of them outright told him that they didn¡¯t like the tunnels beneath Tarha-Nan.


    ¡°This place¡­¡± one of them uttered with a bitter voice between sips from his cup of wine. His eyes were somewhere far, far away. ¡°There¡¯s a kind of ominous sensation to them. Nobody know why there were built in the first place, although parts of them are used as tombs. There are pieces of the same¡­ weird thing that the king¡¯s palace is made of scattered throughout them, although they are mostly purple and black, not blue and green. I¡­¡± the man coughed several times before continuing. ¡°I think you better stay far away from them. They really aren¡¯t worth your while.¡±


    Ehrir could only nod to the stranger¡¯s advice, but he remembered the catacombs, laying just mere meters below his feet.


    While the days passed the Undone One by, the disciples¡¯ mood started lifting up. Even with the Thirdborn as their potential enemy, they couldn¡¯t stay grim for too long. Most decided to have as much fun as the current situation allowed. They held long, lavish dinners in the inn¡¯s private dining halls, drank a lot, sang a lot and celebrated as if there was no tomorrow. They desperately tried to forget about the whole situation with the Thirdborn, Arleon and the assassination plan proposed by the guild members. Ehrir participated almost every night and found those times to be the brightest and most pleasant amongst the grey, monotonous wasteland of his days.


    This way of life seemed like it could go on for weeks, and yet it was disrupted rather quickly with the sudden appearance of the blonde girl that talked with Salelia and the old man in the palace. And, just as the last time, the news she brought weren¡¯t exactly good.


    ***


    The young woman arrived with the master sorcerers in the dining hall where the disciples ate at dusk. The girl ¨C soon Ehrir learned that her name was Skarlia ¨C wasn¡¯t wearing the cloak she appeared with in the palace, but a plain shirt and leather vest, covered with pockets, combined with simple pants and knee-high boots. Despite the scars upon her face and her stony expression, she seemed gentle. Her slender frame definitely helped adding to that. ?She is quite beautiful¡±, Ehrir realized before shaking his head. It was better not to think about trained, experienced killers in such a manner.


    After introducing herself, the young woman began spouting words quickly. Her tone was grim, and soon it made the room¡¯s atmosphere a lot colder.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°One of my colleagues¡­ Of the assassins that led you to this city¡­ Mor-Ael. He¡¯s dead¡±, she uttered.


    Ehrir felt a cold droplet of sweat upon his brow. Several gasps filled the air around, along with a couple of curses. Most of the disciples frowned or sank into thought.


    He didn¡¯t feel much better himself. He remembered Mor-Ael as a silent and dark man, but the assassin gave off a sense of hardly hidden danger, of power and quickness that could cost the life of anyone crossing his path. The very fact that he was a trained killer greatly added to this worrisome sensation. With whom he had to fight to just¡­ die?


    Skarlia continued to talk after the shock quieted down.


    ¡°We found him in front of our guild¡¯s headquarters. Someone left him there¡­¡± She sighed. ¡°His body was in a pretty bad condition, but I won¡¯t trouble you or your masters with the details. There was a note on Mor-Ael¡¯s body. A note most probably written by the Thirdborn.¡±


    The reaction this time was even louder, and Ehrir felt a slight shock creeping up within him. His spine turned into a piece of ice. He had no time to ask himself even a single question.


    ¡°The note mentioned that Mor-Ael was trying to exterminate some of the Changeling¡¯s servants¡±, the blonde woman continued. ¡°And it warned me and the other members that if such incident was to happen again, Farnaraen would destroy our whole guild. But none of this concerns you¡­ And I¡¯m not here to discuss it at length.¡±


    ¡°Then what do we have to hear?¡± asked Nalia before anyone else could react.


    ¡°I''m getting there. I wanted to say that Mor-Ael was acting alone and out of his wish for revenge, but he could have failed our plans to assassinate Arleon unintentionally. The thing is¡­ The Thirdborn has decided to round up all the surviving members of the Guild and interrogate them about a possible conspiracy against him. He has the help of the king and the Great Master behind his back, so none of us can prevent it. His intention probably is to ask about Mor-Ael and the murders he carried out, but¡­¡± She turned towards the old man and Salelia. ¡°Excuse me, can you tell me if there is a way to torture someone with magic without leaving wounds on their body?¡±


    Sevrian nodded slowly, followed by the witch.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that there is, young lady¡±, finally said the older sorcerer. ¡°He can use finely tuned, delicate Conquering to do this.¡±


    ¡°But given his power¡­¡± the witch interrupted while shaking her head. ¡°He can just sever parts of their nervous systems and then heal them with Manipulation. Nobody will even suspect it afterwards if he does all the interrogation alone.¡±


    ¡°Why do you ask, young lady?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that some of them may tell him about you, if he asks them the right kind of questions. Maybe they¡¯ll give away your location, if pressed to do so¡­ We¡¯re all trained to endure torture, and Mor-Ael died proving this very claim. But we¡¯re not immune to magical assault on our minds and bodies. He has promised to not harm any of us, but if my fears come true¡­ He can harm us without leaving marks upon us. And that¡¯ll probably be enough for the king to let the Thirdborn hurt us as much as that bastard wishes to."


    Ehrir remained silent, but he was simply astounded by the girl''s words. Not only all the new information she brought, but her indifference and sturdiness were amazing. She talked about being tortured and interrogated by none other than Farnaraen himself, and she remained calm and cold as a piece of ice. It was impressive.


    "What do you suggest we do, young lady?" Sevrian asked.


    "You can''t remain here... Too many of us know about this inn, me included. Find another place, and that better be a secluded one. And don''t tell a member of the guild about it. That doesn''t exclude me. We''ll talk once the things in the city calm down a little bit. I can direct you to my older sister. She''s a part of the Thieves'' Brotherhood and knows every nook and cranny of Tarha-Nan. She''ll definitely find you a good place to say."


    "I have nothing against it", the witch procclaimed. The old man voiced his agreement, too. Most of the disciples just nodded.


    "There is one thing about my sister, though..." Skarlia uttered.


    "And what would that be?" someone asked.


    "Well, she is the right hand of the Lord of Thieves, the leader of her Brotherhood. And since she''s that important... You''ll probably have to come to her, not the other way around."

 Interlude - Old Allies, Old Friends

    ¡°Sometimes friendship can be far more precious than a blade and armor made of rintium.¡±


    Old saying from the Inner Fantasy


    ***


    Ostrias gulped down the cup of tea joyfully. The cold liquid had the fragrant scent of fresh strawberries and quenched his thirst, cooling his body in a pleasant manner.


    ¡°Thank you¡±, the Ashen Gaze said to the servant that brought him the tea and several other refreshments. He then dismissed the young man before wiping the sweat off of his brow with one of the few handkerchiefs laying in his pockets.


    ¡°You react to heat like you usually do, Ostrias.¡± The man on the opposite side of the table smiled. ¡°You never change, old friend.¡±


    The two of them were sitting in a vast room, carved into the side of a huge rock as part of a complex vertical palace created almost a full millennium ago. The place was in the middle of the Expanse of Dust ¨C the only desert in the Inner Fantasy. It was a hot place, although it paled in comparison to most other deserts scattered throughout the world. In any case, Ostrias couldn¡¯t stand it even as it was. He didn¡¯t understand his friend¡¯s wish to use this particular palace as his winter residence, but everyone had their preferences.


    The room was on the highest floor of the complex, making it easy to see a massive part of the whole desert through its windows. The sand-filled, lifeless wastes stretched out to the horizon. This palace was next to one of the only visible oases in the whole Expanse. Otherwise it¡¯d be abandoned long, long ago, or not even built in the first place.


    ¡°You know that I hate places that are too hot, especially during the winter¡±, the Ashen Gaze said. ¡°Why did you have to bring me here?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s one of my favorite residencies, actually. And I was already here when you contacted me, you know? I even managed to get the Last Goliath to erect a portal to one of my cities here some several decades ago, so you shouldn¡¯t complain about means of travel or going back to the civilized world. I know that coming here was a pain in the ass, but still¡­ Don¡¯t you like it here?¡± The man made a vague gesture towards the room¡¯s smooth walls, ornamented door and luxurious furniture.


    ¡°It¡¯s far from bad, Bel¡­ But the heat is still unbearable.¡±


    The man smiled.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been repeating this for over two days now¡­¡± He took a pipe out of his pocket and began to stuff it with some of the tobacco that the servants recently brought to the table. Once he lit it and began smoking with a joyful expression he threw a glance towards Ostrias. A thin web of blue and greyish smoke rose like a halo around his head. ¡°I think we must talk about¡­ this whole situation. And about the Thirdborn, most importantly.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    The Ashen Gaze sighed.


    ¡°You¡¯re right¡­ As always, Bel.¡± He took a sip from one of the other cups with iced tea on the table. It had the taste of peaches this time. ¡°Have your spies brought anything new to you?¡±


    ¡°Not anything that¡¯s worth mentioning.¡± Bel shook his head. ¡°Just the usual crap. The Lord of Dawn is getting richer. And of course he is, the damned whoreson. A quarter of my lands are part of the Expanse¡­ All of his are farmlands and forests. It¡¯s easy to make money from wheat and lumber.¡± The man grunted while Ostrias frowned. He knew very well how much Bel and the Lord of Dawn disliked each other. It was logical ¨C they were the two most powerful men within the Inner Fantasy right now. Two individuals as bright and strong as them could not live in the same era without conflict inevitably emerging between them.


    ¡°So¡­ Do you think that sending my underlings to kill Arleon was really a wise decision?¡± Ostrias asked.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure¡­ But it would be a relief to have the little bugger out of the picture. I¡¯ve been trying to make him stand under my banners and let the Pale Valley join my lands for almost five decades now, but¡­ Nay, it seems my efforts were in vain. Even sending you to the Outer Fantasy didn¡¯t account for much.¡± Bel let his hand run through his short, neatly combed brown hair, so light that it looked like cinnamon. He was beardless and his soft features (combined with his majestic, angular jaw and deep almond eyes) made him as beautiful as Ostrias, although the Ashen Gaze seemed a bit older.


    ¡°No freaking wonder¡±, Sevrian¡¯s master thought when these thoughts crossed his head. ¡°I¡¯m almost two hundred years older than him, after all.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ Do you think Rehlin will act against the Thirdborn or align with him?¡± The Ashen Gaze mumbled while desperately trying to cool himself with a small gust of wind created via Manipulation.


    ¡°The Seventhborn is¡­ A wild card, more or less. I don¡¯t know anything about him on the political front, except that he is an ally of the Lord of Dawn. He probably shouldn¡¯t be too keen about the Thirdborn, though¡­  In the end Farnaraen is the one that will receive the title of High Lord if he appears in the Inner Fantasy.¡± Bel went quiet for a while. ¡°How strong is Farnaraen exactly, Ostrias? You¡¯ve lived during the end of his presence in the Inner Fantasy. You should have heard stories about him, at least.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had. But I don¡¯t believe most of them. Still, everyone knows that his Manipulation was on par with the Firstborn¡¯s¡­ And that¡¯s scary¡­ It¡¯s nothing that the great Bel Yabboth, the Controller himself can¡¯t deal with, probably.¡±


    The man chuckled and let his pipe rest on the table after extinguishing it.


    ¡°You¡¯re making me feel embarrassed, damn it.¡±


    The two chatted for a little bit afterwards until a servant quietly entered the room and bowed.


    ¡°News have arrived, milords¡± he uttered in a clear and gentle manner.


    ¡°And what could they be?¡± Bel asked.


    ¡°The messenger didn¡¯t state much, master Yabboth¡­ Only that his information regards Rehlin the Seventhborn and the Lord of Dawn.¡±


    Ostrias and Bel exchanged glances. The Ashen Gaze voiced the thoughts of them both with a smile on his face.


    ¡°Well¡­ What are we waiting for?¡±


    Soon the two of them left the room, their heads full of complex thoughts about politics and the world¡¯s future.

 An Announcement

    Hi, guys.


    I wanted to tell you all that I will be taking a break from writing "The Saga of the Undone One".


    The truth is that the new school year has started for me. Due to my hellish schedule I won''t be able to write a lot. I also want to focus my attention on some of my other hobbies and writing projects after seeing how the quality of this one (and the level of readers'' attention) has dropped over the last month. I hope that once I have more free time I''ll resume my work over the adventures of Ehrir and his comrades.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Sorry for disappointing you with this statement and for (possibly) being a let-down. I hope you''ll understand my choice.