Mara stood with her thin white arms folded in front of her. Her clothes, soiled in road dust, did not differ in novelty. Shoulders were weighed down by a traveling bag: excessive burdens for a young girl. Belt of that bag pressed deep into her shoulder, forcibly lowering it closer to the ground. It seemed that the fragile peasant woman exerted all her strength not to fall becouse of it load, but still stood. She unshakably withstood this heavy pressure, and it was evident that during all her life she simply had to get used to this.
- I forgive you, - she said suddenly.
- What? - Vtorak did not understand the words spoken. He was still in a dream. Only in a sweet dream could this really happen. He did not want to wake up, and therefore he simply admired the girl, without really thinking about her words.
- I forgive you, Vtorak, - she repeated, and walked a step closer. - For too long I have lived with hatred in my heart. I was angry with you for what you did, and thought you were a vile, creepy killer for whom there was nothing sacred, but when I saw you in the village, I realized that you have changed a lot since then and. You are not an evil person.
- Why did you come to me? - having thrown off the veil of enveloped dreams, the mercenary asked, - To bring your forgiveness to me?
- No, not only that. Can we talk somewhere... where will be not so crowded? - Mara cringed, looking around.
- Sure! Leave your things in the tent and follow me.
- Good, - she left the things near the tent, Vtorak asked the daughters of Atiha to look after it, and together they moved to the edge of the camp. There, the warrior was able to sit on a fallen old tree and finally lay down his crutches. The first walk turned out to be very exhausting. Mara was a little embarrassed to sit near. It was hard for her to start. She was ashamed to look at the wounded Vtorak because she could not help but see in his wounds a hateful desire once made, which unfortunately now happened.
- What did you want to tell me? - he asked.
- I want to go with you, - Vtorak did not expect to hear such a thing.
- Where to go?
- I do not know. Anywhere.
- More recently, you wholeheartedly hated me...
- Vtorak, - she lowered her head and turned away. A lonely tear rolled down her cheek, - My father suffered because of you... My native village burned down, and my former neighbors shamefully kicked me out! I wandered a lot in the valley, not knowing what to do and how to survive. The only strong feeling that prevented me from surrendering or dying was the feeling of hatred towards you, - her voice only sometimes trembled slightly, but most of the time she managed to keep it even, - Having appeared in the village then... you destroyed everything again! Protecting people from this iron monster, you showed me that the human feelings is not alien to you either. I... just couldn't hate you so blindly anymore. I wanted to see you again, and now... - she could not stand it and started sobbed, turning away in fear, - ...now I see... your hand... Almost the same as my father's... now he was definitely avenged, and therefore, I hated all my life in vain... - She wiped away her tears and looked seriously at Vtorak, recovering a little, - However, I am grateful to you for all this. All this hatred... I am ashamed to admit, but I would not be so strong if not for this feeling. By myself, I was weak. Only this hatred allowed me to become stronger in spirit and survive. I don't know why then you raised your sword at my father, and I don't want to know already, but ... when I once... seven years ago... returned to their house, secretly from the village, they... - her voice was broken by feelings, but soon she recovered and continued, - They didn't even let me on the threshold, can you imagine?! My father cursed all the time and cursed me, blaming all the troubles, and my mother said that I better not show up near their house if I love them, because it could bring trouble to them and she just slammed the door in front of me! I... still can't believe it...
- I know what it is like when native people turn away, - said Vtorak, and he immediately remembered Varaha. He got up and went to Mara to hug her. The girl did not resist, but only tenderly buried herself in the chest of the warrior. She trembled a little more, sobbing in his hands, after which she calmed down and pulled away.
- You... in your eyes... the same loneliness... - Mara said carefully, as if she finally decided to say it out loud. Vtorak was silent. He had nothing to answer for this.
- Well... - he said when he realized that the awkward pause was delayed a bit due to his silence, - Ofcource, you can go with me, but... I'm not going anywhere else. My path is over.
- No one's path is over yet, - the girl said firmly, - Even if you don't have your own way, you can go south.
- What for?
- For surviving.
- What for? - the man repeated with pressure, - I can no longer hold the sword. I am useless.
- The world does not end in war, Vtorak, - the girl said softly. The warrior thought, then sat down and sadly picked up crutches, again glancing at the girl.
- Well... then you can go south with me.
- Come on, I will help you get to the tent, - Mara said and gave her hand to the mercenary to help him get up. Together they returned to the camp.
A few days later, the inhabitants of Stargrad hit the road. Most of the people followed the advice of Vtorak, and headed south to the old mountain fortress, other groups went in other directions following their leaders. The road ahead was far. Several dodgers managed to get somewhere draft animals, and then many things were loaded on the backs of horses, or on saved from the fire carts. Mara sincerely looked after the injured Vtorak. She cared him and helped in everything as if he were the last person close to her in the world. Once, in a halt, she sat beside him near a fire and involuntarily pressed herself against his shoulder, cringing from the cold. The wind was like overwhelming, frosty northern spirit, which is why people in the camp began to wrap themselves in everything they could find. Mara handed Vtorak a bowl of stew, and after that she took up her own.
- They settled not far from here... - she said, thoughtfully.
- Who? - asked Vtorak. He was still not accustomed to holding a wooden spoon with his left hand, and therefore it was difficult for him to eat.
- What? - the girl woke up from thought.
- You said they settled nearby. Who are "they"?
- Ah, I'm just... Peasants from the village where I was born. Uttama now leads them.
- Is Uttama still alive? - surprised Vtorak, - I remember, even in our first meeting, she was... an old woman... very old, with all due respect.
- I don't know if she is alive. I was here seven years ago...
- I think, we need to visit them before we leave!
- No I do not want...
- While I'm around, no one will harm you, - the mercenary said firmly, then stopped short. He blurted out without thinking, because he really wanted to visit Uttama. He wanted to ask her about many things. He forgot that he was no longer able to protect anyone. Doubt flickered in Mara's eyes: apparently she couldn't completely believe the crippled warrior, but she smiled encouragingly.
- In that case, I'll think about it, - she said.
- If you don't want to go there, I can visit the village myself tomorrow. The caravan will stand for two more days, we have time.
- Well. I will see, - said Mara, and again buried herself in a bowl with a stew, as if there was no talk about the village.
The next morning, Vtorak went out of the tent and went towards the village. He remembered these places and knew that there was only one oak tree in the district around which a settlement could be built. The warrior was already walking without crutches, but still slowly: the forces had not fully returned to him. Soon, Mara caught up with him. She grabbed his arm and helped him walk.
- What are you doing? - he asked, surprised.
- I just... decided to overpower myself. In fact, maybe, I will no longer have the opportunity to see my family... I can't lose this chance.
- Everything will be all right, Mara.
- I know, - she answered.
Together they went down the path. When the silence began to stun, Mara asked Vtorak to tell his story in more detail, because she had already told him her own. All this time they were in the camp surrounded by people, and the warrior did not want to talk about his travels. He did not want random people to correctly and incorrectly interpret what he said. However, now that they had a long journey ahead of them all alone, he could afford to share his stories with Mara. Vtorak told everything that he only remembered. He wanted to trust someone and, except for Mara, he could not open whole his story to anyone without any exeptions. He spoke about the adventures once shared with Varaha, about the monster from the old ruins, about the leper knight, about Khali and the dwarf gods. He also spoke of Rosha. Speaking of him, Vtorak began to understand more and more how stupid it was to trust the lizard. He manipulated people as he pleased, and very successfully. He destroyed the cult and the four Hands of the Underground Gods. He had so unbelivable power. And his very goal - the victory over death - seemed to be unreal only at first glance. Vtorak saw what a monster becomes a man who escaped the fate that was destined. He who goes against the preordained order of things dooms himself to eternal torment. He remembered how horrified monster was Gordey, and what a terrible creature was the old witch from the village turned into. Only Koschey still remained like a human. He was still in his mind, although such an existence did not bring him happiness. Vtorak already understood this, but Rosha did not yet.
- We are all only pawns in the Rosha's game, - Vtorak suddenly said aloud.
- Is it really bad? - surprised Mara.
- But what good could be in this?
- Only a pawn, thanks to its diligence, can eventually become absolutely any other piece. It alone has a that choice.
- I didn't think that you understand chess. It seemed to me that this is a game of kings and nobles.
- I was about a year a servant of a merchant. And there I learned a lot. Including the chess!
- Yes, a pawn can become any piece, but not at will, but at the request of the player. And the player above all of us is Rosha. According to his plan, I have already played mine role to the end. It is the miracle that I survived after all that.
- So you have already left the game! From outside you can catch Rosha.
- No. That's exactly what "left the game" is. Look at my hand... it's over.
Mara could not find what to answer. Soon they reached the village, and the girl was a little confused, having seen familiar faces in the distance. People sullenly, sneakily looked at the strangers. Some remembered them, some did not. In general, the villagers did not care about the next tramps who visited their settlement. On a hill, near a tall green oak, an elderly witch was collecting water from his bark. Sensing the approach of the guests, she tore the clay jug from the bark and turned to them. Her face has not changed much over the years. She was still as welcoming, wise and very old.
- You taught people to let go of the past, - said Vtorak, smiling cautiously, - Honestly, I was ready for a tougher reception.
- And you started talking like a city dweller, Vtorak, - came closer Uttama, - who would have thought that I would see you two together one day...
- I just... - Mara looked around nervously. From the side of the hill the whole village was in full view. She was looking for her parents, or someone from their friends, but from a distance she could not distinguish a single familiar face.
- Dear Mara, I'm sorry that I have to tell you this, - said Uttama. She came closer and affectionately took her hands, stopping girl's darting gaze on herself. Your father died five years ago, and two years later we buried your mother. I am very sorry that you did not have time to say goodbye to them.
- How... is that... - the girl's eyes filled with tears. For a while she was at a loss, after which she pulled herself together and asked with a occasionally trembling voice, - Where are they now?
- We set up a cemetery near the village, the northern road leads to it, - Uttama said and showed her the way. Mara glanced at Vtorak and moved down the hill.
- I will go with...
- It is not necessary, - the girl interrupted Vtorak, without turning around, and ran down the slope to the road. Uttama and Wtorak slowly followed her, but, going down, turned in the other direction, to the house of Uttama.
- This journey belongs only to her alone. Not everything in life can be shared with another person, - said Uttama. - They entered her house and sat down at a laid table prepared for a meal.
- You seemed to know that we were coming.
- I really knew.
- What happened to you all after the fire?
- A very long way was waiting for us, - Uttama began to tell, - But we overcame it. Three people died on the road from thirst and, nevertheless, we found this tree in the middle of a dry forest. This is a wonderful place: Pure, that died here was very strong. We could not find the plates telling about his life, but perhaps he was a wanderer who parted with life here alone. In obscurity. His power is still very distinctly felt. Sometimes we even think that we see the sun through the clouds. That's why we decided to stay here. There was enough wood to build houses, and the land is more fertile than the past.
- I like your new place. Everything has become somehow... more comfortable.
- People listen to me and follow me, although I refused to become an elder. As a result, no one ever took up this post, and I resolve all difficulties, - Uttama smiled. - This tree is not like our previous. It gives a lot more light... People come to him for healing and it often resolves their health problems, it's just some kind of miracle! Life not only returned to normal, but became even better for them.
- I am glad that everything was so resolved, - answered Vtorak, - But how... what happened to Mara's parents?
- Their share was not easy. We all helped them. They were not alone here, but the disease took Mara's father and then the worst began. Mara will never know. I would not want to upset her even more, but her mother was really waiting for her. She asked all the travelers that passed through our village so that they would find her daughter along the way and tell her that her mother was waiting for the daughter to return. She said that Mara wrote letters to her about the imminent arrival, but... I think, of course, there were no letters. This grief tortured her so cruelly... After the death of her husband, she was left completely alone and regretted that she had driven her daughter away. She could not accept loneliness. Please do not tell Mara, otherwise she will feel guilty.
- I understand...
- As for you... they told me about your wanderings. You went through a lot. I am glad that you helped Khali gain freedom.
- Uttama... you know a lot. Please tell me about Khali? Varaha told me that he was long dead... I do not understand.
- That is so, - said Uttama.
- But how? I spoke to him. We traveled together...
- You see, not all souls are subject to Akshayah. Some may overcome him and become immortal, but their fate is very sad... others may escape his captivity in a different way. It happens that people subconsciously for some reason so vehemently deny their own death, that become inaccessible to Akshayah. They are so overwhelmed by their own demise that they simply reject it, continuing to live as before. Their own death is erased from their memory, and they do not even suspect that they no longer live. Such souls become mirages and are seen only by those who do not know that this person is already dead. Even if Khali was next to Varaha, he would not see him and did not hear him. Only when the mirage has finished all its affairs can he relax and then death will come to him. Then Akshayah will devour him. Otherwise, the emotions and feelings of the mirage will be too lively, he will continue to subconsciously reject death and Akshayah will not even be able to notice him.
- I do not understand. But he continued to serve the underground gods... why? Why didn't they tell him? Why didn't they help him to realize his death?
- They simply did not want to lose such a good servant, - Uttama shrugged, - Khali cared about the truth about his ancestors, he wanted to know them, although he was immensely afraid of the truth of the answer. He was so immersed in these soul throwings that he himself did not notice how he died.
- But he wore armor! He looked alive!
- Mirages are incorporeal, but they can wear their lifetime clothing or armor and even weapons too. Usually, mirages have little strength; they change little in the world with their presence. They are not able to participate in battles or lead people behind them, so the dwarfs used Khali only as a scout.
- What happened to him now?
- Akshayah devoured him, - Uttama said calmly. Vtorak lowered his gaze. - Do not be sad, this is in the order of things. Moreover, many still will have such a fate, and there is no harm. You could not change that. Continuing to live in ignorance, he experienced inhuman torment. You freed him from them.
- How?
- You let him finish his past life and leave it behind. He held his soul tightly to herself, but you cut the bonds.
- He dreamed of starting a new life...
- Yes, he dreamed, - Uttama sighed. - Many dream about it, but not everyone is given it. This is simply not his designation.
- I was often harsh with him. If I only knew...
- You made a lot of mistakes along the way, Vtorak, and yet once you found your light. Do not blame yourself for what happened. The past will no longer help you, it is time for you to look into the future and only into the future! - Uttama even shook a finger at him. - I wanted to ask you why now you decided to reject the light?
- It's not that I rejected him... I just don't want to participate in this fight anymore. Look at me, I'm not a warrior anymore. I can't do anything else, and without fingers...
- People are recovering from more severe injuries. Think of Mara. You should be as support for her as she was for you. Time will heal the wounds of both. You yourself will help each other to be healed, - Uttama smiled, looking at Vtorak, as if she knew something about him that he himself did not know, - Vtorak, you cannot let Rosha destroy Akshayah. The world is created more wisely than we can comprehend. The foundations of order cannot be destroyed; this can lead to tragic consequences. The last time a powerful man changed the world by force, we stopped seeing the sun, and the glaciers in the north began to threaten to go down and swallow us.
- The Great Pure committed many sins... - said Vtorak, recalling Koschei's stories.
- That is so, - Uttama confirmed.
- Then why are you protecting them like that? Why are you serving them? The Pures. Why?
- I do not "serve" them, - the witch protested, - I protect the light that created me. As a daughter take care of her mother, I take care that the light does not die out in this world and in every other where I can find myself. The Great Pure has done many terrible things. Even after his death on his own throne, the tree did not grow very soon. When his tree came out from the earth, people had already dismantled the palace for stones. He was a warrior all his life. He singed his swords with fire and their blades burned even in the scabbard, scorching the floors of his clothes, until he himself died. His time was to be a lesson for people like Rosha. Great ambitions do not make man a god. Immense power does not give the right to destroy what is built by others. Listen to me, Vtorak. Rosha needs to be stopped before he gets to Orrick. He wants to make a deal with this magician. Rosha wants to open way home to the Orrick, in exchange for his magnificent power.
- This is impossible... how can one take the power of an alien from another world?
- Rosha will teach him the techniques of the Keepers of Strength and Orrick will be able to transfer strength to him.
- No, Uttama... I'm not a fighter now, - Vtorak turned away, - There are countless other soldiers and even heroes for that feat. And I did mine. Why should I only care about the future of the valley? It has a lot of inhabitants. Why aren't they going to fight for their house?
- Because you're stronger. You know more and see more. That is why this burden falls on your shoulders.
- Consider that I did not manage.
- You are afraid of death, Vtorak, - Uttama observed shrewdly, "I understand, but...
- There is nothing shameful in the fear of death. There is nothing shameful in retreating in front of her. I do not have to be a hero. Without my fingers, I'm no longer a warrior... I have something to live for, Uttama, so I say no to you.
- The valley does not need a warrior at all, Vtorak... - the witch sighed wearily, - But it needs the man which strong in spirit.
- So I'm not so strong in spirit either. I am sorry, Uttama. I still want to live.
- I can't blame you for that. Well... so be it.