They were carrying
again.
I could barely feel my own body — only the cold seeping under my skin and my heavy, ragged breathing, as if the air itself had beco thick, like mud.
Norris was riding beside
and speaking to Silver:
— Two more hours. The forest is close.
But I barely heard them.
Sothing was boiling in my chest. Rising. As if the mana inside
was turning over, trying to break free, tear
apart from the inside.
And then — sharp pain.
Coughing.
And blood, a thin line running down my lips.
I wiped it with the back of my hand and saw a drop fall onto the snow.
Panic seized .
And rage.
At the sa ti.
Two emotions that should never coexist — now burning each other like two beasts locked inside my chest.
Haras felt it imdiately:
— Careful! His ropes — they’re… glowing! Seteya!
I started pulling mana into my chest, into my hands, into my eyes — it felt like if I stopped, I would simply… disappear.
— Syringe! — Haras shouted.
And imdiately — a cold jab into my neck.
The world cut out.
When I ca to, the first thing I realized was:
I was no longer on a horse.
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The second:
I was bound even tighter than before.
Thicker. Stronger.
The third:
We were inside a tree.
A real, enormous tree — the walls smooth, almost alive, light coming from thin rune-lines carved into the bark.
It got worse. Much worse.
My chest tightened, my nose burned — and blood began to flow again.
I couldn’t get enough air.
Mana was thrashing inside
like torn fla.
And the most terrifying thing was that I could feel that power trying to tear
away from myself.
— Step back! — soone barked.
I growled.
Truly.
Not human.
I jerked — the ropes flared blue, trying to hold
inside a magical cocoon.
Outside, the children — my friends — were looking at
like at a beast.
And I… didn’t feel them.
No pity.
No sha.
No guilt.
Nothing.
Only чужие fragnts of thoughts:
They’re close.
They’re standing around .
Traitors.
Untie … save … untie …
My body was shaking.
And then…
The door burst open.
A familiar figure stepped inside.
A tall elf, fair-haired, slender, wearing the green of forest patrols.
And his voice hit
like a stone knocking
from a height:
— Zenhald?
I flinched.
He took a step closer.
— Zen… it’s . Arlis.
I froze.
Arlis…?
The na echoed in my head, cracking the black veil.
Arlis.
That sa elf.
The one I taught.
The one who called
his teacher.
“Thank you, Zenhald and Mira.”
— Ar… lis… — I rasped. — Arlis…
He ca closer — carefully, like approaching a wounded animal.
— It’s really . You’re here, Zen. With us.
Others entered behind him.
Selia.
Feris.
Tyriel.
Mirnan.
Lienna.
Rien.
I recognized all of them.
Every single one.
And at that mont sothing inside
snapped.
A flash.
A click.
As if another force whispered:
They are standing.
They are watching.
They are чужие.
They are—
— TRAITORS!!! — I roared.
My voice broke, choking on its own fury.
I lunged forward — the ropes flared so brightly they drowned out everything for a mont.
And again — blood from my mouth.
Hot. tallic.
Arlis did not retreat.
He stepped right up to , grabbed my shoulders, and pulled
hard against his chest — as if I were small again, afraid of night storms.
— Zen! Listen to my voice. This is power. It’s trying to take you away from yourself. Do you hear ?
I wheezed, tried to break free…
And then he pulled an amulet from a small pouch.
Unusual.
Stone.
Runes carved into it.
And he placed it on .
The mont the amulet touched my skin, it felt as if a warm hand pressed against my heart.
The scream inside
cut off.
Mana stopped tearing itself apart.
Air returned to my lungs.
My eyes…
my eyes stopped being red.
I felt it — like soone flipped a switch.
And I collapsed.
As I fell, I heard Arlis’s last words:
— We brought you back, Zen. Hold on.
And darkness covered
softly — like sleep I didn’t choose, but desperately needed.
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