- I will be more useful for you if you would give me a sword, - Vtorak rightly remarked, glancing sidelong at the mercenary.
- A sword? Where will I get it?
- I don't know, - the young man thought, - you said that there is a blacksmith in Putnaya.
- In every village there is a blacksmith. They forge horseshoes, nails, locks...
- Wasn't it possible to buy from him?
- Buy a sword for you? - surprised Varaha and laughed, - Oh, you're funny!
- Why? - scoffed boy.
- Even if I had money, do you think I would have invested it so imprudently? What can you do in battle? What are the chances that you will not give up your weapon in your first battle? No. It's too early for you to wield a sword. Wooden spear - a weapon just right for you.
Vtorak was silent. He did not like the way Varaha spoke dismissively of him. In addition, the messenger of the elder who was walking nearby heard the whole conversation. Of course, his opinion was not taken into account by the guy, but this involuntary humiliation was still extremely unpleasant. "If I'm a mercenary," he thought, "I must have a sword, or some other real weapon! Otherwise, what good is it from me? On the other hand ... does Varaha consider me as his own? Maybe he took "not with me so that I would help him, but for some other reason?" Vtorak did not want to believe his own thoughts. He began to become attached to Varaha and he really wanted to prove to the mercenary his extreme usefulness. The young man knew that he could do a lot, it only remained to convince others of this.
- You look unusual for these places, man, - Vtorak addressed the employer. - You don't look like a village from the village.
- Not like, - the messenger nodded, smiling slightly. He really looked weird enough. He was wearing a silk robe, wrapped for the look of burlap on top. Two sums hung over his shoulder, and in his hands he held a heavy staff, on which he relied when walking. The messenger himself looked relatively young (Vtorak considered that he was no more than forty years old), wore a small blond beard and hair gathered on the back of his head. His eyes almost always laughed, despite the fact that his mouth and other parts of his face could express completely different emotions at that moment.
- Then where are you from? - asked Vtorak.
- Do not ask tenants, their affairs should not concern you! - snapped Varaha.
- But we need to know who can attack us because of him! - objected the youth, - What if an entire army is hunting him!
- In these parts for a long time there are no armies. Only small groups of robbers, - Varaha said, - And even if the army, what will you do? Run away, holding on to your ass?
- No! Blurted Vtorak, - But I just wanted to know ...
- You don't need this.
- Nothing, - the messenger said suddenly, - I will tell the young man who I am.
- Yes?! - He was delighted, - So who are you?
- My name is Orrick. I really am not a local.
- Wow... Then, where are you from?
- The truth is, I'm from another world. I arrived out of the clouds, - Vtorak was so surprised by these words that he did not even immediately figure out how to react to it.
- Are you a deity? - He asked finally.
- Oh no, - the man smiled.
- And what is behind the clouds? - the boy did not relent.
- Behind them is the sky, and beyond it is our world. Your domain with us is called as a Deep dream. It's not easy to go down here.
- Is your world... some kind of paradise?
- I do not think that paradise exists at all. Most likely, this is just a person's dream about a place where one could hide from the adversities that overcome him in life.
- I would like to leave here, - Vtorak agreed, - Life here is rather gloomy. - Varaha grunted contemptuously.
- You have not seen this life, puppy, but you are already whining, - he grinned.
- It's not about the environment, Vtorak, - Orrick shook his head. - It is only in you and your thoughts. You can always find paradise in life itself, if only you change your attitude towards it.
- What do you mean?
- If a person is mistaken, hates, despises and envies - of course, it will be difficult for him to look at other people. See their happiness and success. Dark feelings will burn him, and he will not stop suffering. He will want to escape from a world where everything is so bad, he will not be able to understand that all the darkness will be only in his head. What an escape from it is not to hide. Good and evil are usually only in the heads, Vtorak. What we enjoy, we value as good, and what is unpleasant as evil, but is it really so? In fact, there is simply an interconnected chain of events. The parties are constantly fighting, but not one will win. If you realize that everything in the world is as it should be, to realize your place and work, it becomes completely clear that there is no escape from where. In all worlds, there is both good and bad, but yes ... Answering your question, I will say this: my house does not look like yours.
- Hmm ... - the young man thought. All this seemed so unusual. - Then what is it?
- Another.
- There is no ash?
- Yes, but not so much. Some say that when our volcanoes erupt, they spew out the ashes of your world from their bowels.
- Why did you become a messenger here?
- I was going to leave anyway, the elder asked me for a favor. The village is on my way, why not provide a servece. - Orrick shrugged.
- So you will not stay in it?
- I will stay in it for a while, and then I will go.
- Enough, leave him alone, - grumbled Varaha. Vtorak obeyed and stopped annoying Orrick with his questions. Although he was tempted to ask more, he decided to tolerate and wait for the halt. He thought that when Varaha went hunting, he would have a great opportunity to talk to a strange fellow traveler again. From this thought, my heart was pounding, anticipating the discovery of new secrets hidden by a stranger, but for now he was thinking about what he had already heard from Orrick. "So, then, there are other worlds ... where there is no ashes," he thought, "And this darkness ... Maybe the innkeeper was talking about these parts?" Somewhere there flowers grow far, and the sun shines ... where honey is collected. "
- Varaha! - called Vtorak, after a couple of hours of the silent journey, - the innkeeper said that honey is brought from places where there is sun ... Why didn't people leave to live in brighter lands? After all, honey dealers somehow get to us to sell it ...
- There are not people. Those who sell honey, - the mercenary muttered without looking back.
- "Not people"?! Who? - The young man was surprised.
- Madumaki.
- The bee-people, - Orrick recalled, - I have already been told about them.
- Yes, - he looked back at his fellow traveler. - There is no one more industrious in the world. They live on rocks that are higher than clouds, on which people cannot climb. There, on these wide celestial plateaus, where the daytime sun shines, they collect nectar and pollen from fabulous flowers and makes honey.
- Amazing ... is there water?
- Enough! As they say…
- Why are they coming down to us?
- They come here to sell their goods: honey, grapes, flax for sewing clothes, grains for making bread. People pay them with copper, silver and gold, from which they make jewelry for themselves. They themselves do not dig mines.
- But man is not destined to rise there? - asked Vtorak.
- Alas, - answered Varaha, when he suddenly froze, - Wait. Here are the footprints. Can you see? There is someone ahead. Do not move, I will check. Guard the Orric.
Vtorak nodded, and the mercenary, listening, carefully went forward. He slowly looked around, noting every rustle, every breath of wind. Vtorak thought how experienced this person must be in martial arts and other adjacent skills. "How many years did he spend on a big roads?" he thought, looking at Varaha after him. Very soon, the warrior disappeared around the bend of the trail, and dry tree trunks covered his dark figure. Vtorak and Orrick were left standing alone on the road in complete silence. The guy held back bursting curiosity as much as he could, but did not last long.
- How did you get here? He asked, as if by chance taking a moment.
- You could say I... got lost.
- Get lost? But how do you get back?
- I'm not going to come back yet, but in general ... I suppose I'll have to break the clouds somehow. The sky is a huge portal to other worlds. That is why people do not know how to fly.
- Madumaki can carry you?
- I don't think, that's true... something is needed here ... intangible. It is difficult to explain, but Madumaki never came to our World, as far as I know, which means that they do not move between worlds. Maybe heaven itself will take me away when I find a way to clear it of clouds at least temporarily.
- The clouds are dispersed by the singing of the pure, - Vtorak was glad to suddenly notice the surprise on Orrick's face. He obviously did not expect to hear such things from the guy, - an old man told me about this.
- Here is how? - Orrick thought deeply, obviously in genuine interest, - Where can I find the clean ones?
- They are nowhere to be found, - the boy answered. - They are very rarely born among people. They are somehow connected with heavenly light, as I understand it ...
- Well, my dear friend, - Orrick acquired the young man, - now I seem to know where to go next. Truly, this World is much deeper than ours ... from this the light hardly penetrates here, but I will find it.
- So far no one is visible, but we will continue to be on guard, - Varaha appeared from behind the turn and beckoned his fellow travelers. Both obeyed and moved further along the road.
- I heard that a certain Akshayah gathers souls here ... Who is it? - Asked Orrick.
- He is birth and he is death, - answered Varaha, - He is a demon. Doom of our world.
- Do you consider him a demon?
- He collects souls. Who else will do this, if not a demon. - muttered the mercenary.
- And you cannot resist him in any way? - Asked the stranger.
- His coming cannot be avoided. It is irreversible.
Varaha was silent. Vtorak unexpectedly realized that for all his daring and unprecedented courage, which the mercenary showed in battle, he was always truly afraid of death. The young man immediately remembered the fear in the eyes of the old hermit. Is Akshayah so terrible?
- But I also do not intend to give fate to him in power! - suddenly the mercenary straightened proudly. - When he comes for me, I will gather all my strength to defeat him with a sword. And then ... I will gain freedom from his laws!
A thick milky-white fog fell on the road and the forest around. Dead trees from this became even worse. Their twisted, knotty tentacles hung over the road. Secondly, it seemed that someone was snooping in the fog between the tree trunks. The young man thought about informing Varaha, but he was already quite tense enough. He carefully watched and listened. He walked carefully and held his left hand on the scabbard, near the hilt of the sword. Vtorak, noticing this, grabbed his spear tightly and stepped behind Orrick to cover the rear if necessary. The messenger himself walked smoothly and gently, without making any unnecessary noise. He seemed not at all afraid of the attack.
- I counted nine, - whispered Varaha to Vtorak, - I do not expect you to kill anyone, but now it's not so important, most importantly distract at least five. Got it?
- Yes.
- Today Akshayah will devour the souls of sinners ...
The second man walked back to Orrick's back. Fear mixed with battle determination bubbling in blood. The guy was ready to violently rush to any movement in the fog, but nothing moved around. Only heavy white clubs floated slowly across the earth. Suddenly a whistle erupted over the county. Three ropes with weights at the ends flew out of the fog. They clung to the feet of travelers and, wrapping around inertia around them, knocked all three to the ground. Varaha roared and with a quick movement cut the bonds with his sword. The young man struggled to unfasten the rope on his feet, but he did not succeed in doing so. Suddenly, eight dark figures burst out of the fog with battle cries and rushed to the mercenary who had risen to his feet. Three appeared right in front of Vtorak, however, ran past, without even noticing him and Orrick on the ground. The guy gripped the spear in horror, when suddenly another thug appeared in front of him with a short sword in his hand. The second man did not have time to think, but reflexively set his spear in front of him and closed his eyes in fear. Then he felt the weight of the body pushing on the tip - the enemy rushed to the guy and he planted himself on the spear with his stomach. The guy pushed him with an effort and released his weapon. Trying to break free of the bonds, he accidentally shook his bag, from which a knife fell onto the road. That hour, catching him, Vtorak chopped the ropes on his feet and quickly freed Orrick.
- He fights well ... - Orrick remarked appraisingly, glancing at Varaha fighting with several opponents.
- Hurry up! Help me! - The boy drew a short sword from the hands of the murdered thug and rushed to the aid of the mercenary. Not fully healing wounds again made themselves felt. Gathering strength, the guy plunged the blade into the back of one of the opponents, cutting the spine. Another, noticing this, immediately threw the guy with a blow in the face to the side. Vtorak looked up and saw Orrick raising his hands to the sky, after which he put his hands on the thugs and slowly began to clench his fingers into a fist. To the young man's surprise, the robbers froze, and then began to squeeze in front of their eyes with an unpleasant crunch and squelch as if huge invisible fingers crushed them with incredible force inside their fist. Hoarse and wriggling, they fell to the ground, splashing out a liter of blood, until, finally, they all fell face down in front of the stunned Varaha.
- Orrick ... - one of them whispered, looking with his remaining eye on the sorcerer, but he could not say anything more and lost his spirit. Crippled bodies, with unnaturally twisted limbs, lay on the road with monstrous bloody carvers.
- What are you?.. - asked Varaha, who had turned white with horror.
- I've told. For me it's a kind of dream. Here I can do whatever I want, - Orrick answered with a little smile.
- Did they know you?
- I have a big wallet and I wander. Many people know me, - Orrick evasively answered, - Well, thank you for the protection. Then I can handle it myself. Here is your gold.
He gave a bag of coins to Varaha and moved briskly forward along the road. The mercenary lowered his sword and looked around at the mutilated remains. He called Vtorak, who was numb with horror, and asked him to rummage through the pockets of the dead. The young man obeyed. Orrick's silhouette had completely disappeared into the fog. The robbers were undoubtedly not rich, but still several valuable objects were found on their bodies. Among several silver rings and amulets, Vtorak brought the mercenary a good long sword. It was forged recently and has not yet become too dull, and there were only a few battle serifs on the blade.
- I want to take it for myself, Varaha. - You didn't want to buy me a sword, but we got this one in battle!
- Orrick got it, - Varaha grumbled, - Do you only got that short knife ...
- Good. But what's the difference? Let me take it! - The boy pleaded.
- Take it, - the mercenary replied indifferently.
- Will you teach me how to fight with him? - Varaha only sighed in response, again looking sadly at the battlefield.
- We'll see, - he finally answered, and, having packed his things, he moved forward. Vtorak was happy to have taken possession of his own sword. The horrors of battle for him were already left behind, which could not be said about the experienced warrior Varaha.