The path of the mercenary was very long. Leaving Koschey's possessions, he only a few days later reached the foothills of the Glass Mountains. The warrior's soul could not calm down. Everything that has happened recently has left a deep imprint on the heart. How many people did he destroy by his actions? Could everything be different or all this was also the notorious destiny? In order not to lose his mind, under the weight of gloom and loneliness, Vtorak forced himself to believe that the inhabitants of the mountains would be able to give him answers. He forced himself, but did not want to believe at all. Death now seemed far more tempting. Who knows what happens after death... maybe again becoming a part of Akshayah is not so bad? Perhaps, inside him, the soul is immersed in eternal oblivion? The second man thought a lot about death in the last days of his journey. A lot, like never before. Once, at a halt, he looked at the blade of a sword, realizing how close can death be. He can meet this right now, of his own free will. But fear stopped him all the time. If the angels again save him from death, he will have to lay wounded in the wasteland for many days, alone. Yes, he was not threatened with death, but senseless suffering sometimes seemed much worse. Therefore, he humbly moved on, sandwiched by the rigid rules of the eternal strategic game between light and darkness. He had no choice. The players left no other way for him, creating a very narrow corridor that remained for him. And he was walking.
One day, he sat in the evening by a dying bonfire. Vtorak looked at the usual ashen landscape. The wind blew calmly, like a man trying to blow out candles, he evenly blew on the motionless rocks and tall trees. He blew around the face of the mercenary. His white and weathered fase itself has already begun to resemble a rock. Suddenly Vtorak heard the sound of hooves. He turned around. The rider's armor was cast in silver. A narrow white cloak developed as the wind behind him. The mercenary rose to his feet as soon as the rider was opposite. The white cloak turned out to be a long gray beard, a gilded circle flaunted on the old bib, and a huge two-handed sword was attached to the saddle.
- Are you still alive, old man?! - sincerely smiling, exclaimed Vtorak.
- It's not very polite to indicate age from the very first phrase, - the warrior remarked and dismounted. - Ten years have passed...
- Ten years, truly. - Confirmed Vtorak, - What are you doing here? What happened to you over the years? You seemed to be in a terrible state during our last meeting.
- Yes, I agree. I had... a kind of crisis of faith. But here I am again serving the light! Again I do what I believe. Do you mind, if I will sit near the fire?
- Of course. - The old man thanked for the invitation, hobbled the horse, and unfastened the bag of food from the saddle. He went to the fire and together they began a meal, sharing food supplies.
- So what happened with your beliefs after our meeting? - the mercenary asked.
- Well... look around. How much light do you see here? - Vtorak examined the evening landscape, dry trees, rocks, in some places sticking out of the ashes and eternal clouds in the sky, - I think you will say, that you see no light here. Or you will say that you can see very little light. And I'm not surprised. Blood, revenge, hatred, stupidity, all this leaves its mark on the world. We deserve it. We live in a world that reflects our essence.
- And you totally know how to ruin the mood...
- Moreover, we brought him to such a state. Did you walk through the forest of the hanged? Have you seen his king?
- Yes. He showed me the way.
- Wow! - the old man was surprised, - Good sign! But do you know his story? Who is he?
- But should I? I know that he is a monster. Just another lost soul. I have already seen these kind of souls.
- Oh no, not at all. He was once a knight of the Golden Circle, like my father. But after the Great Fire, he began to live in this castle, until Akshayah came for him.
- And then what?
- Then he defeated him in battle. He tamed his dark impulses and, being immortal, remained in his right mind.
- How did he manage that?
- He was a very strong man... But even now he is a threat. At any moment, he can succumb to anger, or greed... and then it will become more dangerous than anyone else. In life, he was an incredibly powerful warrior. It would not be easy to beat even now.
- Where did the hanged people come from in the forest? The peasants told me that the ancient Kings executed people there.
- These are utter nonsense, - the knight waved. - My father once told me that after the fall of the bright Kingdom, people began to kill themselves from grief... they could not endure the darkness that descended on these lands. The Knights of the Golden Circle initially tried to bring to reason people, but despair knew no bounds. Only the most persistent survived... Although, we, who have never seen a clear sky, must not understand all that horror. We are used to living in darkness. We did not know anything else.
- Who knows ... maybe it's better not to know anything good?
- As for me, it doesn't matter. When I was young, I had dreams. I wanted to become a powerful knight, like a father. I wanted to bring light to people and that the whole world would hear about my exploits! Each defeat in battle was really painful for my pride. My flesh was restored faster than my pride. Tell me why I tortured myself?
- I don't know, - Vtorak thought.
- Me too, - the old man nodded and tossed his beard over his shoulder. - I heard my father's stories and made his life my ideal, despite the fact that his time was completely different. His life was different then, but I did not want to notice it. I saw only his legendary past... Well, time has not passed for me in vain. Do you know what I'm dreaming about now?
- About what?
- My dream is to fill a mouthful of peanuts, chew them a little and then put a pinch of salt into your mouth! I assure you, in this world there is no pleasure more pleasant!
- Your dream is easy to fulfill, - the mercenary smiled.
- Because I no longer dream of an impossible things, - the old man confirmed, - I no longer hear stories about the color of glorious knighthood. Therefore, I do not dream of the past.
- What does it mean?
- It means that if you do not see anything beautiful somewhere in the inaccessible distance, your dreams will become closer to the place where you really are. Therefore, on the one hand, not knowing anything good, a person does not torture himself in vain with empty attempts to reach the clouds. But on the other hand... what can I change around if I dream only about peanuts?
Vtorak could not find what to answer. He thought deeply about how significant his dream was. How much can he change by finding his place? What if his place is really completely insignificant and then his role is too small for him to change anything around. Maybe he should try changing his dream then. Rewrite your storyline? But how to do that...
- If you consider the world to be a reflection of ourselves, - Vtorak reminded the original topic of the conversation, - would you like to say that... we are still not completely lost... or not?
- You think correctly, my friend, - smiled the old man, - Definitely not. Definitely, there is light in us. And that means that he also exists in the world. You just have to learn to see him. When we met last time, despair clouded my eyes, but now I have regained my sight!
- What good do you see around?
- For example, a bonfire. It would be cold without him. The interlocutor. Dinner... Isn't all this wonderful?
- Perhaps...
- Dwarf Gods will teach you to see the light. If they accept you as worthy.
- Do you know where I'm going?
- Of course I know, - the old man hesitated slightly, - Why would anyone else wander here except to search for their wisdom!
- I want the secret blacksmiths to make a sword for me. It feels like everyone knows about them!
- But you need not only a sword from them. I see. In addition, I am the only heir to the order once founded by them. So, I'm far from "everything in a row." Let's get overnight. I will reach the mountains with you, I have business there.
- Koschey told me to go this way alone ...
- I know. When necessary, I will leave you.
- Okay...
Having spread their cloaks, they settled on two sides of a dying heap of embers. Vtorak could not sleep for a long time and looked at how slowly the fire turned tangible embers into elusive heat and smoke. "The next morning there will be even more ash in this world," the mercenary thought.
The journey continued the next day. The cold wind pierced to the bones. Autumn gradually gave way to winter. Vtorak walked next to the knight, riding slowly on his horse, and with interest examined his armor and weapons.
- Have you ever regretted having lived a warrior's life? - the mercenary asked. The old man sighed and smiled.
- I can be honest with you, but not sure that you will like it.
- Yeah. Answer what you think. I just want to know the truth.
- From the outside it may seem that being someone like me is an incredible success. Armor, weapons... for sure, such a prominent warrior has many feats behind his back... I understand. But this is not entirely true. I don't have much. And certainly I do not have simple everyday joys that ordinary people do not even think about.
- For example?
- A family. House. Peace.
- I see...
- No, I do not think so.
- Why?
- To understand another - you need to stop being yourself. And you are too young to be anyone other than yourself. I saw it in your eyes. You still aren't even tired of swinging your sword, what thoughts are there about the family!
- You're right. I'm not tired yet.
- There will always be a life that you have not lived... - the old man thoughtfully bowed his head, - There will always be joys that you have not experienced. That is life...
- But instead all that, you...
- Yes! - interrupted the knight, perked up, - "But!" Great word. But I am who I am! I have nothing to regret. There was a lot of good in my destiny! I am proud that this path was mine, despite all the mistakes and all the pain that I experienced while walking along it. And yet... - he fell silent, lost in memories, - I would like to live another life. I would like to live the life of a farmer... I would cultivate the land, love my wife, watch my crops grow, my sons grow up, my daughters blossom... I would watched them fall in love, life boils, how grandchildren appear... I wouldn't know the battles in that life! Except, perhaps, rare fights in the tavern with some visiting wanderers, in which I would certainly constantly losing...
- Nice life, - Vtorak thought for a moment. He did not want to change anything in his existence. He only wanted to give him a meaning that would give strength - But for me there is no life that I would like to live. I still... have not figured this life out.
- It's okay, - the knight answered, - everything has its time. You are still a child for this world... you have lived so few years.
- Do I look like a child?
- Sometimes, yes, - the old man answered.
- Having been born, I already knew a lot... I didn't have to learn the language, I didn't have to develop muscles and hone reflexes, I didn't have to learn basic things about life.
- You're right. The creatures of doom are different from humans. A person who is not brought up, not trained from the first steps, not taught knowledge he can never compare with you. In childhood, it is more difficult to be a person than a creature of doom. You appear with certain baggage, for which you did not work. And we are... we are grew up, played... hmm... Although, who knows whom is harder to be. You did not have a childhood. You did not play with peers, did not make friends...
- I met Varaha on the road... - Vtorak recalled, - Now it's hard to believe, as I'm lucky that he was also a creature of doom. He understood me like no one at that time...
- Yes, this is unbelievable.
- What else do you think makes me different from an ordinary person?
- This is probably the main thing. You better tell me what do you think distinguishes a person from a child?
- I suppose... - Vtorak thought, and then, bowing his head, suggested, -
Serious? Children constantly laugh, not understanding the true meaning of things. They are frivolous. But an adult people are acting different.
- Do not repeat the mistake of many others, Vtorak, - the old man shook his head. - Do not kill the child in yourself. You see, usually people take the worst of these two ages. From the child, fears and complexes remain in them, and from the adult - only the appearance, and the pretense of significance. In fact, from the child you should take sincerity, the ability to rejoice and love. And from the experienced person you should learn patience, the ability to forgive, and commitment. This is how a child differs from an adult, however, both parts are very important. Both sides must exist in man. Yes, they always exist.
- I will remember your words, - answered Vtorak, deeply thinking about what kind of people he had to meet and what did they take for themselves.
The road led closer to the mountains. Volcanic rocks stand up to her sides. In some places one could see petrified lava streamings. Glass mountains spewed ash and incandescent magma from time to time in the vicinity, recalling their volcanic nature. The earth seemed a little warmer underfoot. At the foot of the nearest cliff, where the road led, there was a fortress wall surrounding several buildings. She was wide enough. Vtorak could not even imagine how someone could climb her to conquer the fortress.
- Impressive, isn't it? - the knight noted curiosity in the eyes of the mercenary. - This is one of the powerful strongholds! Stonehorn Fortress!
- Why did the ancients even build fortresses and castles? Have the Pure fought with each other?
- Of course not! That's why they are Pure... They are not prone to stupid squabbles. - The old man said with awe.
- Then what are the walls and that grand fortresses for?
- When the Great Cleaner created the Kingdom of the wise, he grew many forests with his bright song and launched swift rivers from the mountains. People began to build cities near the water, and so came the golden age of the Kingdom. But the envious barbarians from the surrounding lands wished to take possession of this rich land. Their hordes moved to young cities. The whole kingdom was able to perish in a matter of weeks. But the Great Pure did not tolerate this. He sang his most powerful song and raised a ring of the highest mountains around the entire valley. This delayed and frightened the barbarians, but after a while they still began to find paths between the rocks and seep into the valley. Then it was decided to erect castles that could guard the borders.
- That helped?
- Yes. The barbarians attacked the Stoneclaw several times, but failed to take it.
- How do you know?
- My father commanded garrison of this castle. It was the castle of the Knights of the Golden Circle.
- Your father was a significant person in the order...
- Yes... it's only a pity that the order fell apart... His knights would do much more.
- How did it happen?
- After mass hysteria and suicides in the hanged forest, many deserted the order. It affected the warriors... as my father told me.
- He said, how did the kingdom die?
- Kindom was died from the fire.
Vtorak waited, but continuation of the story was not followed. It seemed that the old man treated this issue in a very special way. He so openly avoided answering the seemingly simple question that this could not but arouse suspicion. Probably, he himself did not know the exact answer. Could his father hide from him the real reason for what happened? But why?..
Travelers reached the fortress and decided to spend the night inside. Vtorak walked through the spacious halls before going to bed. He saw beautiful marble statues of the great knight general and his faithful warriors standing in the main hall. It is clear that the fortress served not only as a defensive structure, but also served as a permanent place of residence for a whole family of noble. Here and there marble statues of members of a great family met. It was very unusual to observe the halls, where benches, wardrobes, beds, chairs, the long wooden tables of the knights and other furniture obviously should have been here... Surely the peasants were stole everything out of here after the fall of the order... and maybe the knights themselves stole some things too. When something beautiful breaks up, people usually take the fragments for good memory.