In the morning I was woken up again at the crack of dawn.
While we walked through the forest, the next lesson began. I said words and their translation, and Aurora diligently wrote it all down with a charcoal pencil in her new notebook; I also pointed out how they are written along the way.
Suddenly the bushes ahead rustled, and Rata jumped out onto the path. She looked out of breath, but she tried with all her might to look carefree.
"Oh, hi!" she began unnaturally cheerfully. "You're going traveling, right? You know, all my life I've dread of traveling! Our plans coincided so wonderfully... Let go with you!"
Aurora imdiately grew wary and nudged with her elbow: "What is she saying?"
"Says she wants to walk with us and all that," I translated.
Aurora smirked predatorily. "An ideal mont to gather information about the world," she concluded. "Alright, let her co with us."
I turned to our new squad mber: "Hey, wait a minute. You never gave back my bed!"
Rata instantly plastered an unperturbed expression on her face: "The bed is big and heavy. How am I supposed to drag it along with ? Request unfulfillable."
Now there were three of us. To be honest, I completely stopped understanding why and where I was going. Just dragging along behind Aurora. Kinda boring overall. And now this deity tagged along.
Ah, wait. There is sothing interesting!
"Aurora," I called out. "You said you'd tell what I liked in my past life. What is it?"
She didn't even slow her pace. "When we sit down to rest, then I'll tell you."
"Let's do it right now?" I whined.
She stopped and awarded with her signature evil look, from which any normal person would feel uneasy.
I ntally rolled my eyes. What is this crap? During our entire acquaintance, I had seen exactly three emotional states from Aurora: "normal", "evil", and also the one when she frighteningly smirks, devising so plan. I wonder, are there any stages between them at all? Or is that her whole spectrum?
We walked through the forest and unexpectedly ca out onto a real path. Surprisingly, it looked as if no one had walked here for a long ti, but it was still a path.
Aurora, wasting no ti, began her interrogation through .
"Zenkhald, I will speak now, and you translate for her. Who are you?"
I turned to Rata. "Who are you?"
"I am the goddess of serenity!" she answered with an elevated, slightly theatrical intonation, pressing a palm to her chest.
I monotonously translated this to Aurora. She frowned.
"What does 'serenity' an? That's a loose concept."
I turned back to Rata: "What does 'serenity' an? She says it's a loose concept."
Rata took her hand off her chest. "Serenity ans exactly that," she answered dryly.
Aurora looked at her angrily upon hearing such a short answer, but the goddess nevertheless decided to continue:
"Although... Well, all living beings who want to live believe in sothing. People want sothing, they start praying or desiring strongly. That makes strong, that is my essence—Serenity. People want the absence of aggression, want to do nothing, live peacefully. Want silence, so they aren't noticed at all... In general, they want a lot of things. Don't rember exactly, but by human standards I was born quite a long ti ago. What are we called? Forgot what they call the main gods..."
I sighed heavily—so many words!—but translated it to Aurora anyway.
Aurora fell into thought: "Hm. And how many gods are there in total? And who is the strongest, or which ones are the strongest?"
I monotonously relayed the question to Rata.
"Darn, that I don't know," the goddess shrugged. "I lived there in the den all my life, didn't go far. Soone ca to visit once, I rember... The sun god, was it? Don't rember. But at that ti he was stronger than , although I didn't care, I hadn't seen anyone else."
Aurora had already opened her mouth for a new question, but I was completely tired of it. I crouched down, started digging the earth with my hands and molding sothing out of it.
"Alright, your task is to be a translator," I commanded the lump of dirt.
In my hands ford a little man about twenty centiters tall. He nodded affirmatively with his dirt head.
"There, a gift."
A squeaky, unnatural voice was heard from the golem: "I am a golem created by this wonderful person. Speak, and I will translate!"
Rata imdiately stepped closer with curiosity: "Wow, what's this?"
"It's a golem," I answered, dusting the earth off my hands. "There, leave alone, you guys are boring."
We walked along the path for another twenty minutes. The girls anwhile were actively chatting about sothing through the dirt man, and then Aurora even made the golem teach her the local language.
And I dragged along behind, listening to this squeaky voice and thinking: WHERE ARE WE EVEN TRUDGING TO on foot?!
Interlude: In Search of a Miracle
A girl in a gray hooded robe stood on the edge of the crater and thoughtfully looked at the decapitated corpse of the monster.
"Interesting..." she pronounced quietly, sliding her gaze over the clean cut. "Doubt she did this."
One strike. And yet this is no ordinary monster—the more you chop it, the more small fiery worms crawl out of it. But whoever chopped its head off destroyed the very core of the creature with one swing.
A slight smile played on her lips. "What kind of miracle did this? It's clearly not the gods. Hm. Where are you, miracle?"
anwhile, we were still walking along the path.
"SO WHERE ARE WE EVEN TRUDGING TO?!" I couldn't take it.
Aurora stopped and shifted her gaze to Rata. "She's leading us."
Rata blinked her bright eyes in surprise: "? I was just following you."
"LET'S HURRY UP!" I howled, realizing that we were simply walking in circles in the forest.
"Hurry up with what?" the goddess didn't understand.
"Hurry up and get sowhere already!"
Rata scratched her cheek thoughtfully: "Well, I heard there's an ancient city sowhere around here. A huge one, they say."
Aurora nodded. "Good, we're going to the city."
We reached a fork, where right in the middle of the road lay a peacefully snoring huge ogre. He had a massive belly, and in his hands, like a plush toy, he clutched a whole uprooted tree.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on , not stolen versions.
We were just about to quietly walk past, when suddenly the ground shook from the clatter of hooves. About fifty cavalryn flew out from behind the trees. (I'll say right away, there's no difference to whether it's an elf, a dwarf, or a beastman—to they are all just humans — Zenkhald). The riders were clad in light iron armor and ard with long spears.
With battle cries, they rushed to attack, causing the ogre to wake up. In height, this big guy was about four ters. He lazily swung his tree—BANG!—and half the charging riders were simply tossed into the bushes like bowling pins. A couple of well-thrown spears stuck right in his belly, but he pulled them out with two fingers and tossed them aside like toothpicks. The horses rushed around him in panic, and he simply thodically scattered them.
I looked at this massacre and nudged Rata with my elbow: "Goddess. Aren't you supposed to help them?"
"Y-e-e-e-a-a-ah... theoretically-y-y..." she began to drag out the words so slowly that by the end of her short phrase the last man fell to the ground with a crash.
The loud, sleepy voice of the ogre was heard. He opened his maw wide and yawned resentfully: "A-a-a-a-ah... These bugs won't let Orak sleep! Orak just sleep, and they attack. Orak not eat humans for ten years already, but humans still attack. Orak is tired of this!"
He bent down heavily and grabbed one of the humans who was trying to crawl backward with his huge paw. The ogre lifted him to eye level.
"Orak is tired. He wants to eat. Human offend him—he eat him!"
He opened his maw while the caught man floundered with all his might, trying to break free from the grip.
When suddenly sothing flashed brightly high in the sky.
BOOM!
A powerful, incredibly fast strike hit the ogre's arm right about at the elbow. The arm was simply torn off. Chopped clean off.
"A-A-A-AH!" Orak scread agonizingly, dropping the severed limb along with the saved human.
At the site of the strike, kicking up a thick cloud of dust, landed so creature clad from head to toe in heavy armor. The knight had a huge sword almost as tall as himself, and he was about a ter eighty-four tall.
"A-A-AH! YOU HURT ORAK! ORAK REVENGE!" the ogre roared and swung his log with all his remaining strength, bringing it down on the offender.
But the knight didn't even budge. His sword simply t the flying stick, and the massive tree literally exploded into splinters from the collision with the blade.
The dust settled a bit. The knight raised his helted head and spoke evenly. The knight's voice thundered, clearly carrying every word to everyone present:
"Orak, you committed the greatest cri against this world—you dared to be born a monster! Your breath desecrates the earth, and your very existence is an insult to the heavens. The judgnt of the gods was passed even before you opened your vile eyes for the first ti! Those like you have no right to life, no right to forgiveness. Your cris are written in blood in the annals of this world. It doesn't matter how many years you hid in the forests. Justice has no statute of limitations, and the spawn of darkness are not granted the right to redemption. You are a disease on the body of this earth. I AM A SERVANT OF THE SUN GOD, AND I WILL EXECUTE THIS PUNISHNT!"
He swung his huge sword high.
I scratched the back of my head. What?
Pop.
Teleport—and I appeared right in front of the knight, standing exactly under the flying blade. Out of surprise, the knight tried to stop the strike and jerked the weapon aside. The inertia of the heavy sword simply threw the armor-clad warrior to the ground.
"Iron dude, you are strange," I drew out lazily. "You talk about justice, but do so crazy nonsense yourself. I don't get you."
I snapped my fingers. The terrible wound on the ogre's torn-off arm instantly closed, ceasing to bleed. Now he was officially a one-ard Orak.
The ogre slowly sat up, blinking in surprise, and then looked at : "Orak thanks the savior."
The knight struggled to his feet, holding onto his helt. "GET AWAY!" he shouted, examining from head to toe, and then pointed the blade of the sword in my direction. "WHO ARE YOU?! Can it be, another unholy monster?!"
I calmly stepped closer and grabbed the sharp blade of his sword with my bare hand. "Don't go poking that stick just anywhere, you'll scratch soone. Didn't they teach you?"
He tried to forcefully yank the weapon away, but it didn't even budge. I unclenched my fingers, and the knight clumsily staggered back.
"I, of course, don't care about Orak at all," I continued, "but what you're spouting is absolute nonsense."
"YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE DESIGN OF THE GODS!" he shouted furiously and rushed at at top speed.
"Wait, I haven't finished."
The knight collapsed to his knees. He was crushed by such an incomprehensible, overwhelming weight that he could barely lift his head.
"Well look," I crouched in front of him. "You say he is guilty from birth. But who even chose for Orak to be born an ogre or not? Maybe he would have liked to be born a cat-girl, how would you know?"
Orak nodded in agreent in the background: "Yes, Orak not want to do evil."
"And you say that his existence is already an insult. And who decided that? Kinda weird, no? What's the difference—is it an ogre, a human or a beastman, if they all can express their point of view and defend it? What right do you have to kill him just because he is an ogre?"
I canceled the gravity magic. The knight got heavily to his feet.
"The words of the god are... law. They are always right..." he pronounced stubbornly, but the last words sounded with obvious doubt.
At that mont, Orak slamd his huge fist right into the knight's helt with a swing. The warrior flew aside with a clank and passed out.
"OW, hurts! Iron barrel, hurts!" the ogre shook his bruised hand. Then he looked at . "Thanks, little freak."
"WHAT?" I was indignant.
But the ogre had already turned around and stomped off into the thicket of the forest.
Aurora and Rata approached . The golem followed.
"So what now?" Aurora asked, looking around the clearing. "Moving on?"
Rata smirked predatorily, looking at the unconscious knight: "He's got good armor and sword. Let's take them and sell them in the city! We'll have sothing to buy tasty food with."
I imdiately nodded. The plan was simply perfect. True, it seems this iron barrel was still breathing...
We enthusiastically began pulling the armor off the defeated knight. It turned out to be no easy task—there were so straps and fastenings everywhere.
"Alright, seems there's a latch here. Look from that side, Rata," I commanded, picking at the iron.
"Right, right..."
I struggled to pull off the heavy helt, and... underneath was a girl. Slightly pointed ears betrayed her as either an elf or so kind of half-blood.
"Whatever, let's keep taking it off," I waved my hand, unimpressed by the discovery. Armor won't sell itself.
Rata turned the sleeping girl onto her stomach to unfasten the breastplate straps, and we saw a beautiful tattoo on her shoulder blades in the shape of a sun and so complex patterns.
The goddess froze, and then resolutely straightened up: "We can't leave her here. We must take her with us."
Aurora looked at her in puzzlent and asked through the golem: "And why is that?"
"She serves the Sun god. And the Sun god is kind! He fed very tastily that ti," Rata rembered nostalgically.
"Then carry her yourself," Aurora cut off, preparing to move on.
Rata was taken aback, but quickly found a way out of the situation: "Zenkhald, you carry her!" she commanded confidently, poking a finger at .
"Let's just catch up with Orak and give her to him, he'll look after her," I suggested.
"No! You beat her up, which ans you look after her now!"
"What? How does that even work?" I was indignant.
I sighed heavily and sohow heaved the unconscious half-elf onto my back.
Holy cow, she is so long! Her feet dragged on the ground, and her breasts pushed uncomfortably into my back. I sniffed.
"Ugh, she stinks of sweat and iron," I grimaced. "Do knights even have ti to wash?"
Unable to bear this tornt, I simply snapped my fingers. The girl's body was enveloped in a faint glow and smoothly rose into the air. Problem solved. Now she simply levitated a ter above the ground and flew right behind us, like a tied balloon.
We finally continued on our way. Aurora, anwhile, fully imrsed herself in her studies: she walked with her nose buried in her notebook, quietly repeated words and actively tried to communicate with Rata directly, only occasionally checking with the dirt golem walking nearby.
Finally, the rough outlines of the city appeared in the distance. More precisely, first we ran into a transparent magic do that covered the territory for a radius of about ten kiloters from the city walls themselves. The walls, by the way, were impressive—about twenty ters high.
Before walking to the gates, Aurora stopped.
"Zenkhald, drag her manually," she commanded, nodding at the levitating half-elf. "So the guards have fewer questions."
"Huh? What now?" I lazily expressed my indignation, absolutely not wanting to strain my back.
Aurora awarded with her most evil look. Then she simply walked over, grabbed the floating girl by one arm and dragged her behind her right along the ground. The elf's head bounced gloomily over the bumps. The problem was solved.
Guards stood at the single entrance. The guards, of course, looked at us very strangely—a kid, a white-haired girl, a dirt golem, and Aurora dragging an unconscious person through the dust. But, surprisingly, we passed calmly and soon found ourselves in a noisy city bazaar.
I lazily looked around and pointed a finger toward so platform: "Oh, maybe we'll sell her into slavery? They seem to be buying people right over there."
Aurora looked in that direction and nodded understandingly. She clearly liked the idea—no person, no problem, and they'll even pay money.
"Not allowed!" Rata cut off.
Had to drag the elf further. We went into one of the large weapon shops and with a loud sound dumped the heavy knight's armor right onto the floor.
Aurora stepped forward and, using her modest vocabulary, confidently blurted out in broken local: "Buy. We sell."
The owners ca out to the clatter—three n and two won. They walked up to the pile of tal, started examining, tapping fastidiously. One of the n took out a knife and tried to scratch the breastplate. The blade simply slipped, not leaving a single scratch.
All five gasped synchronously.
"But this is..." one of them whispered.
They quickly exchanged looks, a strange gleam flashed in their eyes, and they nodded to each other in unison.
"Alright, I'll take the breastplate!" "I'll take the leg piece!" "I'm taking the sword!" "The arms are mine!"
They instantly dismantled the armor into parts, like hungry wolves, and joyfully shoved a bag of coins into our hands—20 gold. We didn't really know what cost what here and whether they cheated us, so we just took the money and went outside.
Walking around the bazaar, we gradually learned the local system. It turned out that one loaf of bread costs 4 bronze coins. 100 bronze is one silver. And 100 silver is one gold.
I started calculating intensely in my head. So, for one gold you can buy 2500 loaves of bread. And we have 20 gold. aning we can buy... fifty thousand loaves of bread?!
"Cool," I concluded, weighing the bag in my hand. "Seems like a lot."
Reviews
All reviews (0)