The forest was silent.
But this silence was not peace.
The wind passing through the branches whistled coldly. The sll of damp earth had mixed with the scent of blood, turning into heavy, oppressive air. Darkness had not yet fully fallen, yet the light was weak — the sky gray, the trees standing like shadows.
Zaber walked.
Not heavily. Not hurriedly. But without stopping.
The wound on his shoulder. The blood had dried. With every step the skin pulled, sending pain through him. He paid it no attention. Because if you pay attention to pain, you stray from your purpose.
He did not look back.
After several hundred steps he stopped. Pressed his hand to the bark of a tree.
In a low, cold voice he whispered:
"I have found one more reason to beco strong..."
"To stop running."
The surroundings were silent.
Yet sothing inside him stirred.
The goblin nest now lay behind him.
The plan had been good.
He had intended to use the goblin lair as a temporary shelter. The place was filthy, reeking of blood, scattered with bones, but precisely because of that — safe. Knights disliked entering such places. They preferred order, open fields, strategic ground.
A goblin den they regarded with disgust.
Zaber felt no disgust. But the knights arrived earlier than he had anticipated, and even though he could have sealed the cave mouth and stayed there for several days, there hadn’t been enough ti.
So he abandoned the lair.
Not fleeing.
rely changing position.
There is a difference.
Two days.
For two days he changed direction as he moved.
First east. Then north. Then south again. Deliberately tangling his trail. Sotis he leaped from tree to tree. Sotis he walked along streams so the water would wash away his scent.
He hunted. Small creatures. Raw at.
He did not sleep.
Only brief monts with eyes closed.
He was not tornting himself.
He was breaking himself.
Because strength is born from suffering.
On the evening of the second day he stopped.
This place was higher. The trees sparser. Below, the forest spread like waves.
He dropped to one knee.
Placed his hand on the ground.
Closed his eyes.
He tried to feel the power inside him.
Before, he had used strength only to survive.
Now he wanted strength to rule.
Once he had feared it. Feared becoming strong because he did not want to lose himself. But life had forced him, and gradually he had co to love power.
Now he had turned hatred into coldness.
"I have found a reason to stop running..."
He repeated the words again.
This ti they were not empty.
He knew exactly whom he was running from.
Not the knights.
From himself.
A faint sound ca from below.
Very light.
An ordinary person would not hear it.
Zaber opened his eyes.
He did not move.
He only listened.
Leaves compressed. Breathing. Very even.
This was not a knight.
A knight walks heavily.
This was soone light.
Young.
Or trained.
Zaber did not rise.
"Co out."
His voice was not loud. But it was a command.
Several seconds of silence.
Then from the shadows stepped a girl.
Eyes sharp. Hair lightly stirring in the wind.
Aurora.
Her gaze was filled with indifference.
"You make too much noise," Zaber said in a cold tone.
Aurora raised an eyebrow.
"I’ve been watching you for two days."
Zaber did not reply. For a mont shock struck him — the person he had been fleeing from had followed his every step without him noticing. All his efforts had been futile from the beginning. And he still did not know what Aurora intended to do.
"The knights are searching for you too. They set up camp to the north."
"I know."
"You know?"
"I know they are looking for . I can even guess roughly where."
Aurora fell silent.
"You are very good at running."
"At first I thought you were simply fleeing, but it seems you are moving according to a plan."
"What do you want? If you wanted to kill , you would have done it already."
Aurora narrowed her eyes.
"I wanted to observe a little. People like you are very rare."
For the first ti Zaber looked straight at her.
"If you think I’m a toy, kill right now."
Aurora took one step forward.
"Are you so eager to stare death in the face?"
Zaber rose and took one step back.
"Are you death?"
Aurora took another step.
"I have been the death of many."
"Do not compare to them!"
"You are the sa as they are. No difference. You speak above your level, you act strong, but you are very weak."
Zaber retreated several steps and answered:
"I have heard those words before, but..."
His eyes flashed with the mory — "If I had died the mont I was born, if tears had flowed from my cheeks and my lips had given up life in that instant, that would have been my happiest mont" — hearing it from his daughter had been painful.
Aurora paused, slightly tilting her head.
"Are you confessing love to ?"
"Do you know what this is? This is not a love confession. This is a wish," Zaber said with a faint smile, though his thoughts were entirely different.
This damn girl is mocking , he thought. But my life cos first. If my strength is not enough, I should try sweet words. After all, they say it is easy to deceive won with love, he thought.
Aurora suddenly began to close the distance faster. Zaber, matching her speed, kept his hands in front of him and retreated step by step.
After several quick steps Aurora stopped.
"If you wanted to kill you, why are you running?"
Zaber looked aside.
"If you consider it illogical, then why do you keep living even though you know you will die?"
For a mont Aurora’s gaze sharpened. In an instant her silhouette appeared right in front of Zaber — so close that the distance between their faces was no more than five centiters.
Aurora stared into his eyes.
"Who are you really?"
Zaber put on the face of an innocent boy, lowered his gaze.
"My na is Zaber. I am an ordinary person."
Aurora grabbed him by the throat, lifted him slightly, and asked with rising irritation.
Zaber held her wrist with both hands.
"An ordinary person cannot bring flowers — not even most nobles dare — and you stood as a third party between two warring groups. Moreover, you sohow beca strangely bound to , and after all that you still call yourself an ordinary person? There isn’t even a spark of life in your eyes."
Zaber’s thoughts shattered.
What has this woman been through? Aren’t girls supposed to be delicate and pure? Her hands are like iron. Even her lies seem practiced.
In a low, precise voice Zaber answered:
"I did not deceive you. I only wanted to attract your attention. That is my only fault."
Aurora clearly did not believe him. The strange bond she felt with Zaber had already aroused great suspicion in her. That was why she had neither killed nor captured him upon first sight — she wanted to observe and understand who he truly was.
Aurora had heard almost nothing about the Neon clan, yet she knew very little.
She threw Zaber against a tree and spoke coldly:
"Fine. For now I will not kill you. But do not rejoice too much — I may change my mind at any mont."
Zaber slowly stood up.
"Aurora, my lady, if I had imagined such courtesy, I doubt even the greatest poets could have invented words like these."
His heart cald.
"But if we asure it nurically — 0.1."
He said, brushing imaginary dust from his clothes, then looked at Aurora with a smirk.
"Perhaps you could call off your knights. They are quite exhausted."
Aurora glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
Is he connected to the Neon clan? If so, we are from the sa clan — but how did he manage to form such a strange bond with ? I saw it for a mont. I must get to the bottom of this.
She straightened her thoughts and began walking forward.
At that mont, far away on the slopes of a distant mountain, Larden and Azuris were still sitting and talking. Two old friends who had not seen each other for centuries had so much accumulated conversation.
Larden took a small finger-sized glass vial from his pocket and showed it to Azuris.
"You have very deep knowledge about dragons. Perhaps you can identify this."
"Is this his blood?"
"Yes. I collected it earlier."
Azuris opened the vial, sniffed once, then in the next mont poured the blood onto his palm. Around his hand three concentric red circles ford.
Azuris’s eyes widened.
Larden asked urgently:
"What is it?"
The circles around Azuris’s hand vanished, and the blood disappeared with them.
"This boy is the High Dragon of the Shadow Dragon Clan."
Larden sighed.
"I suspected as much. Is there anything else?"
Azuris lightly shook his hand.
"This blood has been burned, and there are traces of two other racial bloodlines mixed in."
Larden’s eyes widened.
"Are you serious? If the blood has been burned, how is he still alive?"
"I don’t know. But it must cause unimaginable pain. He must have extraordinary endurance."
"What are the other two bloodlines?"
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