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Wanderers Of the Night 21
The thickened evening darkness turned into a network of sounds and smells. They showed him the way, he too easily read this invisible book of shadows, too easily perceived the space torn apart by magic.A familiar smell hit his nose, a cage, three wolves silently follow him with their eyes. Yarsi slowed down his run, without stopping, he cut the bars with his sword. The white blade ripped open both the metal and the magic barrier unhindered. The werewolves howled, broke through the resulting hole and, once free, caught up with their king with huge leaps.Yarsi looked around, voices were heard very close. He looked at the wolves.“Hold them,” he ordered.Werewolves readily stopped, bared their mouths. Their eyes shone with a deadly light. Yarsi nodded curtly and ran on. A growl was heard behind him, astonished cries, quickly filled with horror, the sound of torn fabric and a crunch .... Short delay, they don't stand a chance. Magic swept over the fighting wolves, threw them out of the
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The huge moon, which had barely begun to wane, silvered the tops of the trees with a cold, lifeless light, played with crimson reflections on the red leaves. But its insistent light could not break through the tangled branches and reach the low undergrowth and grass. However, they were not in this forest. Thick crooked trunks with cracked bark rose from the stone-hard, bare earth, covered with a layer of black ash. Grass did not grow here, young trees did not grow here, there were no mushrooms and berries. Darkness reigned here for centuries...The inhabitants of this forest did not need light, their eyes could see perfectly in the darkness. The night was the time that stirred their frozen blood, bit into their essence, forcing them to rush through the thicket of the forest, in the vain hope of finding food for themselves.Gray humanoid creatures glided between the black trunks of forest giants with swift jumps. That night, their movements did not resemble their usual convulsive throw
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A wave of strong wings, under which jets of cold wind obediently fall. The wind blows against, but does not interfere, does not interfere with the flight. The wings confidently cut through the cloudless, transparent sky, which seems inaccessibly high. Below, the forest rustles, rolls over in crimson waves, gnarled branches stretch upwards with a creak and rattle, as if they are trying to catch, stop ... Far ahead cold lifeless light shimmers with iridescent rays. It does not illuminate, does not give a part of itself to this world, its rays dig in and rip reality, tear it with sharp blades, crush it and draw it into itself... And they call, they call...Yarsi came to an abrupt halt, nearly dropping Vic. The Wistolet had been complaining for a long time that he was tired of hanging upside down. The werewolf didn't seem to hear him. His gaze flew up, simultaneously covering a huge space from all sides. Many vivid images flashed through my mind. They overwhelmed him, squeezed, not wantin
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There are questions to which it is better not to know the answers. Perhaps this is true?Vic woke up with the sun high overhead. All this time, Yarsi sat nearby and tried not to think about anything.The Vistolets moved with difficulty, tried the net. Yarsi wanted to help, but Vic pushed his hand away.“I’ll manage,” he muttered, and nearly fell over. His body was trembling, his head was spinning from weakness, but he stubbornly began to rise, leaning first on his elbows, then kneeling.Yarsi did not look at him, only heard hoarse, heavy breathing. The Vistolets was still a living being. Now he can no longer die from hunger and wounds, but this does not mean that he will not suffer, experiencing all human desires and pain. The werewolf gave him a quick glance. Vic's face was deathly pale, his eyes shone feverishly, his parched lips were cracked and oozing blood.- What?! he exclaimed defiantly and winced involuntarily. - I look great, don't I?Yarsi shrugged. He couldn't change anythi
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Pottery was neatly arranged on the table. In the center stood a large deep bowl intended for soup, in which lay a ladle, next to four flat oval dishes, on which game and snacks are usually taken out. Two jugs with narrow long necks and carved handles immediately attracted Yarsi's attention. And ten plates, arranged along the edge of the table, next to each lay a spoon, four of them were quite small.The dishes were shiny clean, there was not a trace of dust, as if a large family was about to sit down to dinner. Only the aroma of ready-made dishes does not hover over the table, wine does not splash in jugs and the voices of household members sitting on the benches are not heard. Emptiness.He stretched out his hand for the jug, the earthenware was quite strong and without a single crack. An angry hissing was heard from behind the stove, a quick shadow darted along the wall. Pressing the jug to his chest, Yarsi turned his head. The nostrils did not catch the smell, only the eyes noticed
Wanderers Of the Night 26
It was cold here, but she wasn't about to leave. The piercing, gusty wind kept opening the thick cloak, penetrating under the thin fabric of the dress and digging into the skin. She shivered, held the cloak with her fingers, which made them froze for a long time and almost did not obey her. But she stubbornly remained on the roof of the tower and peered tensely into the distance.Nearby, streams visible to the naked eye, the dome curved and flowed, threads of energy neatly bypassed a large ragged hole near the ground, not wanting to fill it or at least block it from above. The black road cutting off in front of the hole, as once upon a time, was again just an empty, lifeless stone, in which there were no more souls. There is no Great Power left.It is useless to get angry, it is useless to hate and blame everyone around, and above all, yourself. She did not see him, could not understand his essence, and now she could only wait. Wait…Robis approached almost inaudibly from behind, hugg
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Vik resiliently jumped up from the ground, squared his shoulders, his body was seething with unbridled power, which he wanted to splash out on everything that moves. A clawed hand quickly ripped at his arm, leaving long scratches. He caught her and yanked hard, the gray-skinned creature responded with a powerful blow to the face. The Vistolet flew off, rolled over in the air, and landed on his feet. He roared furiously, he has no claws, no teeth, he is unarmed.Immediately three humanoid creatures, twitching and grimacing, separated from the general fight and moved towards him.“Damn you.” Vic began to back away, his foot tripping over the edge of the collapsed cart.“A weapon, it must be a weapon.” He scanned the crushed skeletons and finally noticed what he was looking for – two swords clenched between his knuckles. Vic grabbed the nearest one and almost groaned. It was a dull rusty piece of iron. There was no time to pick up a second one.He jumped away from the claws of the neares
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The horses snorted, twitched their ears, glanced anxiously at the too close forest. People wrapped themselves in cloaks and nervously clutched weapons in their hands. The sorcerers looked the most calm, but their impenetrable faces, no, no, yes, had an alarming expression.The first glimpses of dawn fell like scattered rays on a wide meadow and a gloomy, inhospitable thicket. And if in other places at first there was an ordinary living forest, and only then the border of Reeta rose, then here the lifeless world began immediately. Huge black trees did not hide behind the trunks of their brothers, they openly looked at the living. Red leaves swayed and rustled on their branches without wind, as if they were calling, inviting, pulling ...A detachment of horsemen, consisting of thirty people, drove up to the Border at dawn. The people dismounted, hobbled their horses, and prepared to wait. The girl kidnapped from the palace was tied to one of the trees growing on the outskirts of the mea
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