The wind blew into his face, bringing the smell of horse sweat into his nostrils. A chariot rushed along the road, and in front of it a silver rider galloped. Dead forests and empty ravines flyed by. Once, in the era of the reign of the Pure, filled with called-up moisture, the valley nourished the roots of these mighty trees which magnificently stretching their crowns over people. Shrubs spread along the ground, and tall grasses rustled in the spacious meadows. But all this is in the past. Now the wood has dried up, and the grass has turned yellow. Only some plants survived, having learned how to deepen their roots so deeply that the peasants sometimes could not pull out whole edible rhizome, as it was twenty elbows from the tops. Who could need this dead, scorched earth? Is it really worse to live in ice?
- Rosha, - called Vtorak, turning over his shoulder, - you said you were in the north, right?
- Rosha was in the north, - the blind lizard nodded.
- How do people live there? Rather, even... who lives there? Tell me about the north.
- It's cold in the north, - Rosha said expertly.
- Wow! Maybe you will tell me more about snow?
- Yes, it is everywhere...
- I was sarcastic. Any innkeeper knows this. You would tell something that no one heard. Something that only you saw. What no one knows about.
- What no one knows, no one needs to know. - Rosha answered evasively, - But Rosha saw the northerners.
- What are they?
- Fur all. Tall. And they sit on unicorn elasmotherias. Do not make them angry better... although in the north everyone is kind. They have a dangerous life. They are not hostile to each other. Life is not easy. Cold killed a lot.
- Elasmo... who? - looked back over his shoulder Vtorak.
- It's tall! Big! Woolen beast! And from the forehead a horn! Long - five cubits! And fat. Instead of horses they have such monsters.
- Wow...
- But they are not scary, there are worse monsters.
- Who?
- Hekatonheyras! Ancient people. Tall like a mountain! Fifty goals all over your body! A hundred hands on the sides! They walk, people don't notice almost. Little people too. Here.
- Khali said that they also go south, fleeing the glaciers... they will not even notice us!
- Yeah, yeah, very big. - Rosha nodded.
- I hope Koschey will not refuse to help us... By the way, how did you get to the north?
- Well... - Rosha thought, - The story is long!
- I'd venture to listen.
- Well... Rosha loves to look at the birds...
- And to eat them, - added Vtorak.
- The birds are delicious! - confirmed Rosha, - So, in the north, Rosha heard about huge birds live! Very sweet! Rosha wanted to try it! Has come. "Where are the birds," he says. And there are bears... they hit him on the head with a stick. - Rosha is lying around. It's good that they didn't eat. Hard! And have the squama.
- The Bears? A stick?
- Berendeys! Snow to them under the scruff... Outcasts.
- What is it like?
- This is true. There was a man - puff! They turn all skin inside out! And here is the bear. They can do that. They beat their heads on the ground, turn the skin inside out and the bears already.
- Miracles...
- Don't tell me, - Rosha rubbed his neck, as if recalling a hurt, - The teeth are sharp, the claws are long, danger!
- It's better not to meet with such people, - Vtorak looked closely, - Look! Ahead of the forest of the hanged. We finally arrived.
The knight galloped back to his chariot. Vtorak nodded to him. They reached the forest, and now they were waiting for a meeting with his master. The familiar, impenetrable gloom drowned in itself trees and a forest full of hanged people, as if trying to hide from the audience a monstrous reminder of the gloomy events of the past. Like a caring, gray-haired mother, she hid the horrors of the forest from the gaze of the travelers, sometimes frightening them with her own impenetrability, if only to turn them off the path leading to even greater horror. She was ready to go for it in order to protect defenseless wanderers from misfortune and dangers of forest. But Khali and Vtorak were not afraid of the forest. Both had already visited it, and now they had nothing to fear. They were ready for everything that the forest could conceal. Neither the beast, nor the owner of these lands scared them, for they had already thrown off a cover of ignorance and knew what they were going to.
On the way they did not meet a wild beast. Fog seemed to clear their way. When they reached a tall oak tree with a lush crown that stood deep in the thicket, the fog began to thicken noticeably. All three looked at the place where the white clouds began to thicken to black until Koschey himself appeared from it. The black figure of a skinny man lowered his bare feet to the ground and slowly moved towards the guests. His clothes developed in the wind, echoing the unhurried dance of gallows swaying on the branches. Animal horror nearly crushed people. Koschey was terrible in his power. His eyes did not blink. He stared at the knight.
- I cannot... endure hypocrisy, - he said, - I cannot endure bragging. I hate lies.
- We have come to you... - Khali began, but Koschey interrupted him, turning his eyes to Vtorak.
- You fulfilled my request and brought him. I'm... pleased...
- What are you...
- Khali from the Cheshtaa clan, Knight in a silver armor! I was waiting for you! For a long time I watched you blindly wander in the dark, trying to find on your way what you cannot find! You both honor the light and the Pure, but in particular you cringer before them.
- Pure - the greatest of people! - Khali looked Koschei directly in the eye, he was not afraid, - My family has served them since ancient times! I am the last part of the Golden Circle order, so close your mouth, monster! You stink of darkness. I stand on the other side! - Koschey burst out laughing. His voice chilled blood and lifted hair on a nape. It was a whistling, hissing voice from the underworld, which could not be heard from the lips of any living being.
- I am - Ordo Patrem - stood at the origins of your lousy order! - Khali shuddered: obviously the name was not an empty sound for him, - you do not know anything about the Pure. About your family too, but I will tell you! People called your father's the Wheeling breaker! Because he loved to personally break the arms and legs of the captives, so that later they would be tied to the wheels, hoisting them on high poles!
- No... - the old man was astounded, but still did not want to believe.
- Father did not tell where the Great Fire came from? I think not... What a shame... But I can tell you that too! - Koschey reveled the agony of the old knight, destroying in a word the foundations of his whole life, - the Great Pure... was a terrible person in the second half of his reign. At first he did a lot for people, watched the forests, arranged lakes and rivers in the valley, but then... he got scared. Fear of the invasion of foreigners forced him to raise mountains around the valley! This entailed terrible consequences. Even the Pure cannot joked with the universe. The earth shuddered then... the glaciers in the north moved and began to grow precisely since then. But savages from beyond the mountains continued to seep into the fertile valley, and then he uttered the most powerful song that the world had ever heard... From heaven, he called a huge ball of fire and brought it into outer territory, wanting to destroy all his enemies with one blow. But it turned out quite differently. A wave of fire spread across the earth and burned many cities and villages. The Great Pure sang so loudly that after that overthrow he lost his voice and disappeared. The Council of the Sages began to rule the kingdom, which was protected from the fire by mountains. Ashes from fires soared into the sky, forming a veil of ash clouds. Since then, ash has become part of our world. Ashes became one of facial features of it. But, when, after thirty-three years, the Great Pure appeared again in the valley, he did not even say anything. He just entered his palace, reached the throne room, sat on the throne and died. His body did not turn into an oak, but spewed another burst of fire. The great fire embraced the valley. The water went back to the underground depths and the forests dried up. Many people were hiding in caves and, thanks to this, they survived, but the Kingdom could not be restored. The Order of the Golden Circle took over the reins of government. And your father, Khali, led the knights. Mighty Cheshtaa... Ordinary people refused to live in a scorched valley and wanted to leave it, but the knights were against it. After all, if ordinary people left these lands, they would lose all power. It should be noted that the rest of the world did not burn out so much from the fire, as it happened with the Valley. The main focus of the rebellion was the villages around this forest. It was convenient to hide here and wage a guerrilla war, attacking from ambushes unexpectedly. The knights knew about this and struck. The violence turned out to be brutal. All residents of the surrounding villages, even those who were not related to the rebels, were hanged on trees in the forest. Then I left the order and settled here. And the knights began to rule the valley. Their cruel rule continued for several years, until the people rebelled as a whole, to the last peasant family. A terrible massacre began, during which almost all the nobles were killed. Only after that did people begin to rebuild what was destroyed by fires. Successful merchants soon became new nobles, and life calmed down a bit. But now... I know why you came to me. You are afraid of the resettlement of the northerners... you want me to help you... - Koschey looked into the eyes of Vtorak.
- Yes. We ourselves will not cope, - said the mercenary.
- War is not an option. Resettlement is a natural consequence of past events. There is nothing I can help you with, - Koschey answered thoughtfully, - But... as promised, I will reveal to you a part of your destination, Vtorak... You will help the valley. You will bring light into it, and this light will disperse the clouds. The heat will return and melt the glaciers. The era of darkness is ending... for the time being.
- Pure... - Khali whispered in surprise, - This is the light given to us by the gods... the incarnation... of the light...
- The Pure ones quickly ascended, but at the same time, at any moment, each of them could fall just as swiftly. - Koschey answered. - The Great Clean One fell. He killed countless of his own people. He burned what he built.
- I do not believe... I do not believe... I do not...
- I understand... but let me show you, - Khali did not have time to do anything, when Koschey approached him and grabbed his head tightly with bony fingers. The knight froze, unable to move, and opened his eyes wide, falling under the influence of Koshchey's spell. Vtorak rushed to the rescue, but Koschey met him with a steel look.
- Not necessary, Vtorak. It hurt me to watch him live a lie all his life. Once we met, and I revealed the truth for him, but he rejected it, not believing. Now he will see everything! All that I saw! I will show him. He must know! - Vtorak did not move. Rosha stood behind his shoulder, not making a sound. A few minutes later Koschey released Khali. Vtorak touched the knight and he started, as if struck by lightning. He gazed in astonishment at Vtorak, then at Koschey, after which he grabbed the reins, sharply turned his horse around and rushed off. Vtorak began to unfold the chariot.
- Tell the ruler of Stargrad that I do not share his views on life. He is disgusting to me. And his faith will not help him defeat the northerners. As I.
- I will! - Vtorak nodded to Koschey, and he disappeared into the fog. Vtorak chased the horses and rushed after Khali.
He caught up with the old man at a high cliff, on the edge of the forest. Vtorak stopped the chariot and jumped out of it to the ground, leaving the reins to Rosha. Khali dismounted and came at the very edge of the cliff and looked at the valley, now stretched before him. The wind developed his silver hair. Vtorak came closer and laid his hand on the old man's shoulder.
- Forgive me, Vtorak. I could not stay there anymore.
- Nothing. He refused us anyway. Now let's go to the city and...
- No.
- What?
- We won't go to the city, Vtorak, - the old man looked at his fellow traveler.
- Why?
- You have no idea what I saw. It was... I looked with his eyes at the past that once flashed before him... I saw all the atrocities of my ancestors. The fall of the Pure... fires... even the sky seemed to burn.
- I understand. But anyway...
- No, Vtorak. My service is over. Dwarfs have never told me about all this. They used my ignorance so that I continued to do their will. What are they after that... how can you call them servants of the world after this? It's is such...
- What will you gonna do?
- I dont know. Probably... I'll settle somewhere in the village...
- There's one here, not far away. I can get to it with you.
- Wait. First I have... something to do... - he hardly raised his huge sword and began to dig a grave in the ground with it, right where he stood. It was extremely inconvenient to do this with a sword, but the old man rejected all attempts of Vtorak to help. The warrior already understood what the old man was going to do. When the work was finished, Hali unfastened his belts and took off the silver shoulders, putting them in the grave. Elbow pads, forearm shields and a cuirass were after them. Having arranged all the armor in the ground, the knight put a blade into the huge sheath and lowered it into the grave. On the cuirass, a drawing of the Golden Disc was clearly visible. Together with the last armor of the knight of this order, the order itself was finally buried. Khali stood a little above the pit, looking at the armor. The thought clearly circled in his head that he, too, should be buried along with the armor in which he lived his life. After waiting a bit, Vtorak carefully began to bury the grave, moving the excavated earth with his hands. Khali took a deep breath and began to help the mercenary. Very soon, silver armor was buried underground. Khali stood in front of Vtorak in a simple shirt and trousers, which he wore under his armor. Now he had no weapons left, not even a knife. Only the horse was at his disposal. The warrior nodded encouragingly to the old man.
- Khali from the Cheshtaa clan died today. The clan of Cheshtaa is rightly exterminated.
- What name will you take for yourself? - asked Vtorak.
- I'll take a name for myself... - the old man thought, - Funny...
- What?
- It's funny that the Gods gave the old man a chance to start a new life... it's not easy to come up with a new name... it will be much harder to get used to it.
- And yet they gave you a chance. Take advantage of it. Nothing happens for nothing.
- I don't know, Vtorak... - the old man shook his head. - The dwarfs said so. And who did they end up in? I lived to see gray hair, never knowing where the truth is and where the lie is. I'm late to change. Maybe it was worth staying the way I was, as befits an old man? It's too late for me to start a new search. Let the young seek meanings and learn the secrets of the universe. I... I will not look for anything in life anymore. I will just stay somewhere where there will not be too much fuss.
- It's never too late to change, old man. The world is changing to this day, but how many hundreds of years old is it?
- A thousands of years... - the knight automatically corrected. - There is a rational kernel in your words.
- Of course, Khali, you only...
- Don't call me like that anymore. This name brought me only the pain of disappointment and bitter glory. I renounce him. It is buried in the ground along with the silver of these armor.
- Then what shall I call you, knight?
- Azarius. Call me Azarius.
- Why exactly this name?
- Once I helped a village boy and his sister in trouble. They lost in the forest and could not get out until the evening. They were already surrounded by wolves, when I grabbed them off the ground and took them out of the forest. I left them in the village and the girl, crying with happiness, rushed to the house and relatives, but he remained standing. He looked at me and said that he wanted to grow up and become as fearless as I was, - the old man shook his head, - His gaze was so hard, he was so serious... In my heart I laughed at it, because I myself knew that not at all brave. Years passed. He grew up and became a blacksmith. Then he was also become a village headman. I have seen him only once since. He was stately, people loved him... He helped them survive in this desert land. Thank gods, he did not become like me. But I... one day I would like to become at least partially similar to him.
- So be it, - concluded Vtorak, - I believe in your success. And now... it's time to go.