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Wanderers Of the Night 66
A heightened sense of smell alerted him to the presence of a guest before he turned the corner of the corridor. Yarsi slightly slowed down his pace, and then drove the expression of alertness from his face and, raising his head high, went towards Velislav, Daitra's heir, who was waiting for him at the door. He silently looked at the approaching prince. Yarsi just as silently stopped in front of the Daitroite blocking the passage. "Hello, Yarsi," he smiled wryly. - Long time no see. You've lost your temper, prince.- Well, yes, I became taller than you, - Yarsi slapped Velislav on the shoulder. - How long have you been standing here? I decided to take a walk before bed. - Didn't know that werewolves sleep.- And I'm not an ordinary werewolf, - the king of Reeta smiled with all his fangs. “Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I don’t. If you're not afraid, then come in, I'm glad to see you. The visitor snorted and stepped aside. Yarsi was the first to step into his own chambers, he hear
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Yarsi took a deep breath and paced the room. A childhood friend did not just appear that night. This visit could be interpreted as Daitra's great hope that Miros was still her protector. The Daitras are too accustomed to living behind the back of a strong, warlike neighbor. Their own army has long existed only for appearances and mainly consists of palace guards, those who really wanted to be warriors went to Miros. Yarsi grinned gloomily, yes, the war has not yet begun, but most of the army is already drawn to the western border - the border with the lands of Tinasa. In the forges, swords are reforged day and night - silver is poured into their blades. But Yarsi placed much greater hope in the archers. The longer they can keep the dead within sword range, the greater the chance for the living. In addition, silver tips required much less material than swords. And the fact that silver acts on the dead, he had already seen during the battle at Keront. True, the sword that Vic held i
Wanderers Of the Night 68
A low tree freely spread its branches over the darkened walls. Powerful branches had long ago pushed aside the masonry of the stone fence, and the bricks, unable to withstand the pressure of nature and the past years, lay in piles on the ground. But here and there a dilapidated wall still stood, hiding from prying eyes a squat one-story house, immersed in the greenery of a wild garden. This small plot with a house was located at the outer wall of Eleard and only huge gardens of neighboring estates adjoined it. It was believed that he had an owner and that's the only reason no one has touched him until now. Still, someone else's property, and no one knew where the owner himself was. And the guests here were not frequent, sometimes random travelers wandered in, turning in the wrong direction from a good road. Under their feet lay a path overgrown with thick grass, into which the once flat, stone-paved path had turned. The travelers looked in bewilderment at the branchy thickets, which
Wanderers Of the Night 69
The sun's rays pierced the foliage with too bright strokes, making it impossible to enjoy the flight. Vic hissed through his teeth, the blinding light in his eyes causing him to lose his bearings over and over again and fail to dodge the branches. They mercilessly beat him in the face, lashed his shoulders and clung to his wings. Tired of fighting, the Vistolet dived down and immediately stepped into the shadows. The wings obediently pressed against the back, even no effort had to be made. This action turned out to be so natural, as if he had been a winged creature all his life. The Vistolet chuckled grimly and broke into a run. It was close to the meadow. Vic rounded the parking lot and, keeping under the trees, went out to the children, trying not to turn his back or sideways. However, the front of his clothes was also quite tattered, and through the tatters, curved scratches were visible, deeply tearing the skin. The Vistolets strongly hoped that they would soon be delayed, but s
Wanderers Of the Night 70
The first houses greeted them with indifferent glances from empty windows. The travelers involuntarily stopped. A short, thin boy waved a long stick, as if it were a staff, whispered something softly and twisted his head in surprise. The tall figure of his companion was completely hidden by a thick cloak, a hood was pulled over his face, but the look of his eyes, protected by a thick shadow, ran along the massive walls, tenaciously caught the only movement - the curtains blown by the wind in the windows and glided into the distance of the wide street. He shook his head in distaste and pushed the two girls closer to their brother, standing behind their small group himself.- Well? Still want to go? he asked.“I have to make sure that I can’t help them in any way, Lirta’s parents are no longer young, they need to leave here, just like the rest of the townspeople,” the guy said stubbornly. - A strange place, where did everyone go?“They turned into the dead and left,” Vic grinned gloomil
Wanderers Of the Night 71
His gaze glided over the distant clouds - wonderfully fluffy, beautifully illuminated by the flaming glow of the setting sun. He just lay there and stared blankly at the sky. All the same, I didn’t have the strength to move and I didn’t have the strength to resist either. And to think…, you can think as much as you like, the situation did not change and did not become clearer. But the chest was still squeezed by spasms of pain with every breath of air, and I also painfully wanted to stick my fingers under the ribs and squeeze the distinctly pulsating heart. Why? Vic didn't know, but the pounding of his own heart resounded in his ears with an annoying sound, contradicting his true nature.He smiled wryly. The thoughts were frightening. Who is he? And what if, despite the changes, he continues to reach for the lost image?- Well, - the voice of the sorcerer-delonha sounded very thoughtful. The rest stood a little further, forming a narrow circle. “You are strong, vistole. Most in your p
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He looked at the wave that ran before his eyes in an uncountable stream of human bodies - it seemed so. So it was easier to perceive the chaos that more and more absorbed the surrounding space.It's funny, but although the delonhi sorcerers tried, only those who stood in the center of the square managed to create protective barriers. The rest were swept by a wave of walking corpses. Their only defense was the dead they had already raised before. And also magic - biting discharges beating on staggering figures. Chaos. Raging in the square of the dead.Probably, if he saw this earlier, when he was still an ordinary person, he would shudder in horror. And the knowledge that you yourself created this nightmare would bring dreary hopelessness - this should not happen, people are not material for obedient, ignorant puppets. They should not die by the thousands for the sake of someone's insane goals.But it happened, and by his own will, as well as by the will of the enemy, they rose up and
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The foliage of the bushes rustled nearby, Kim slowly walked over and sank to the ground next to Vic. Mila and Lana wearily lay down on the grass and tried not to move anymore. The boy looked at the Wistolet with an attentive look. His lips curved slightly into a painful smile, and he clasped his knees with his hands and froze.He was silent for a while, then he spoke. Vic just listened, there was nothing else to do, although prickly needles dug quite noticeably into his side and right arm. This meant only one thing - the magician put his changed sword between himself and him."Sarsh," Kim's voice was hoarse, he struggled to get the words out. – An ice demon of the night from the world of the delonkhs. You should have stopped them, not me.... But you don't know who you are yet. It's strange that you turned into a sarsha, it's strange that the Delonkhs chose our world for their hunt. We have nothing that could be their target. Or is there? Kim shook his head and wearily rubbed his face
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