"This ti, my dear student, I want to introduce you to my latest creation: the Ice Wave.
[Star: Red
Number of rays: 5
School: Combat/Elental
Elent: Water-Ice
Maximum rune combinations: area/height/density/speed]"
Ardi turned the page and began to study the seal with great focus. These strange symbols, which he had first encountered nearly four years ago in a barn, were called magical seals. These intricate geotric patterns, embedded with runes and other symbols, were more like recipes than anything inherently magical or mysterious.
Influencing reality with Star Magic, in theory, didn’t require much: one had to "draw" energy from their own Star and "insert" it into the emanations of the Ley Lines. But taking this literally and just "pouring" energy outward would either result in nothing happening at best or, at worst, the mage could suffer severe consequences — and if they were lucky, only physical ones.
The seal indicated precisely how to weave the threads of Star energy, and the runes clarified so nuances. Taken from the language of the Fae, the runes served, as Anna’s brother might have said, as toggles, switches, pointers, and — put simply — regulators. They ensured that the spell pattern didn’t just explode with energy but took on distinct forms in every sense of the word. However, Ardi had no idea about the principles behind their placent, appearance within the overall pattern, or anything else, so he learned through trial and error.
"Five red rays," Ardi read above the seal, muttering to himself afterward. "Almost the peak of the second triad… and how does he expect to copy this?"
Ardi was looking at a six-pointed star with several circles inscribed within it, which ford sothing like a snowflake pattern, and around it, there was a wide belt consisting of a torn white oval with dozens of runes. All the seals in the stranger’s textbook were recorded exclusively in colored ink. Ardi didn’t know if this was the norm for such magical works because he simply had nothing to compare it to.
Without a second’s hesitation, she raised the rifle to her shoulder and, with practiced precision, fired again.
The wolf leaped to the side, and the bullet sliced through his other flank — Anna had been aiming to hit the leader’s eyes. And then, as she worked the lever action, the shots rged into a continuous roar. The leader, casting one final glance full of pain and primal fury at Ardi, dashed toward the forest, leading the last of his pack with him.
Anna, slinging the rifle over her shoulder, drew a revolver from its holster and, deftly hopping across the stones, approached Ardi. The pain, which had been muted due to the battle’s adrenaline, made him clench his teeth and groan. The danger was gone, and the adrenaline that had fueled him all this ti had left with it.
"Ardi," Anna knelt beside him, her voice full of concern and genuine care. "Face of Light! You’re covered in blood!"
She was dressed in her usual attire — a dress with a high neckline and a wide belt. The bottom of her skirt had been cut and hemd, revealing sturdy trousers tucked into high work boots. A wide-brimd hat shaded her face from the sun, but her golden hair made it seem as though she herself was the sun.
She picked up the knife Ardan had dropped and began tearing her skirt into strips and rolling them into makeshift bandages, which she then pressed against his wounds. And Ardan couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Her face, with its soft features, thick eyebrows, and crimson lips, was slightly flushed along the cheeks. Her appearance always made Ardi hold his breath for just a mont longer.
"Don’t move," she said, reaching out to him but then pulling her hand back, as if she were afraid of causing him more pain. "I sent the others back to the town. Help will co soon. You’ll be fine."
"I’m fine already," Ardi rasped, then looked directly into her eyes. "Thank you, Anna."
She just nodded.
"I wanted to ask you to go with to the festival, and-"
"Quiet, Ardi," Anna interrupted him gently, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her more than any other sign ever could. "You’ll ask , for sure. And I’ll sing for you."
"Really?"
"Of course."
Anna could sing beautifully, even though she rarely did it. Every festival, people would ask her to sing or play, but as far as Ardi could rember, she had only agreed once, and that had been for her father, whom she loved very much. Yes, Timofey Polskih evoked mixed feelings in everyone who knew him, but one thing no one could deny was the stingy farr’s boundless love for his daughter.
"And if…" Ardi faltered, "If I…"
"No ’ifs!’" Anna shook her head so vigorously that her hat slipped off.
"I would like to hear…"
She looked into his eyes. They were so beautiful and so distant…
"All right."
The sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon, sending its last, most passionate rays flying across the sky. The gentle ripple of the stream beca her piano, and the reflection of the sun in her eyes was the light of the fires already burning on the adow where the townsfolk were celebrating.
As soon as she began to sing, her voice surrounded him like a comforting blanket, enveloping him in her warm and tender embrace. The lody of the song was simple and unobtrusive, providing true solace for his troubled mind.
Mountains high, where whispers lie
A tribe so wise, beneath the sky
Hunters free, in nature’s grace
Road the wild, in a sacred space
But iron roads, with roaring might
Brought the trains, and took the light
The hunters’ life was no longer true
As the world they knew was torn in two.
Ardi closed his eyes, allowing the song to wash away everything that had happened to him in the past few days, even years. All those thoughts, all those yearnings of a heart torn between two legacies, all his worries and troubles… They drifted away with the waves of the stream that were moving farther from the shore.
Lands once pure, now overrun
By progress made, and by changes undone
Traditions lost, culture torn apart
Leaving such tired, such worn out hearts
But iron roads, with thunderous roar
Brought the change, forevermore
The hunters’ way was left behind
As the wheels of ti began to grind
The trees by the grove seed to lean closer, as if to listen to the song as well, and their leaves rustled in ti with the lody. The fading light sparkled along the surface of the stream, creating an image of epheral beauty that could never fully capture the charm of Anna’s song.
Yet in their hearts, the mories burn
Of days alive, for which they still yearn
Forced to change, yet still they strive
Their legacy will always survive
The hunters are gone, but not erased
Their story held, in hearts embraced
Their wisdom deep and courage strong
A ti when the wild was where they belonged.
As the final notes gradually faded into the twilight, Ardi opened his eyes and t Anna’s gaze. Their fingers brushed against each other by accident, but to Ardan, it felt like he had touched her not just with his skin, but with his heart.
"Thank you," he whispered. "That was beautiful."
She smiled warmly and gently.
"I’m glad you liked it. I borrowed the first lines from a poem and… Well, you probably wouldn’t find it all that interesting."
They looked into each other’s eyes, and in the east, the black velvet of the sky had already lit its first stars, their lights burning away the weight of the day, leaving only the magic of the song and the connection of two hearts to linger.
"Ardi, I-"
Ardan didn’t know if he was doing the right thing or what would happen next, how his life would turn out, but at that mont, none of it mattered. He shrugged off the makeshift bandages from his now nearly-healed wounds, ignoring Anna’s protests at his theatrics, and pulled her familiar face close, pressing his lips to hers. He did so clumsily, ssily, and with as much hesitation as a fledgling making its first fluttering attempts at flight.
At first, Anna tried to pull away, but a mont later, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and together, they sank into the grass.
They didn’t think about cowboys possibly showing up, nor were they worried about the wolves returning. Their only frustration was with the overly-complicated fastenings on their clothes, their too-tight belts, and the way they accidentally bit each other, only to laugh and try even harder to press their bodies together, no longer just friends.
And the night’s darkness covered them with a cool blanket, hiding them from any unwanted eyes or witnesses. This evening belonged only to them and no one else.
At least that’s what they thought.
***
"See you tomorrow?"
She stood surrounded by several cowboys, while the rest were already galloping across the farm to the Polskih house, eager to bring back the joyful news that Anna was safe. Ardan looked at her face, searching her eyes, and for the first ti since his early childhood, he felt sothing that he had no words to describe.
"We should go, Anna," the oldest of the farmhands urged her.
They had co across the riders about an hour after… after they had left the stream and headed back to town. And the entire way from the ridge to the farm, they hadn’t been able to say a word. They’d only managed to exchange furtive glances and barely hide their foolish smiles.
"Huh?" Anna started, then answered. "Yes, of course, Garry. Let’s go."
Garry turned his horse, and they began to move away on the other side of the fence. Anna turned to him, and Ardan grinned broadly.
’Of course we’ll see each other,’ he mouthed.
Anna smiled too. She gave him a small nod before disappearing over the hill.
Ardi stood there for a mont longer, then turned and started walking ho. In the distance, the festival lights still burned, and laughter, cheerful shouts, songs, and the echo of dances could still be heard. People were celebrating the end of the season, and with it, the coming of age of their children who had graduated from school this year and were now being sent off into a new life. Out of ten graduates, only five usually stayed in the town — the rest went off to seek their fortune.
Within the year, two would return. Another one would co back after five years of wandering, and the penultimate one of those who’d left would start a family in a bigger town, or maybe even in Delpas itself. And the last of the five adventurers would eventually stop sending word of their life, leaving their parents to boast about their success — more to comfort themselves than to show off.
How strange that Ardi was thinking about this now…
He walked along the moonlit path leading to the outskirts of Evergale, and his heart wanted to dance, drunk on the euphoria gifted to him by the hour he’d spent on the stream’s shore. The crisp night air, tinged with the sweet scent of wild lilacs, caressed his face as he walked along the path.
The world around him seed more alive than ever before, its colors vibrant. It was as if the night, in so magical way, had bathed in the sa light that was filling Ardan’s soul at that mont.
Accompanied by the quiet echo of his footsteps, which reverberated in the stillness, Ardi’s thoughts swirled like a whirlwind of autumn leaves scattered by the wind. Anna’s touch still lingered on his skin, and her laughter resonated in his ears like the mysterious songs of the Fae.
If Skusty had been here, he would’ve surely said sothing about the "spring rut" and "the season of animal weddings."
A wedding…
With every step that brought Ardi closer to ho, threads of worry began to weave themselves into the joyful tapestry of his thoughts. No matter how many textbooks claid that there was equality between all races in the Empire, that simply wasn’t true. On the surface and in everyday city life, maybe. But here, on the country’s very edge, in a backwater, a very different law ruled.
And the thought that their barely budding relationship could be crushed by a cold and indifferent system caused his teeth to grind and his fists to clench. Ardan imdiately recalled countless legends and songs his grandfather had shared with him, tales of lovers torn apart by fate and circumstances, and how their stories had often ended in heartache and sorrow.
Suddenly, Ardi froze.
Sniffing the air, he wrinkled his nose. The air was thick with a pungent sll that was clawing at his throat. The sll of smoke, charred wood, and shredded mories.
As the hunter approached his ho, his heart began to pound faster and faster.
The arrogant, swirling glow of a hungry fire rising above the courtyard cast mocking shadows along the fences and walls of the deserted houses, and their ghostly whispers foretold nothing good.
Ardi practically flew to the gate, tearing it off its hinges with a single pull.
His heart stopped.
A dozen unfamiliar figures, wearing matching leather coats, stood in the flickering light of the burning barn. Their faces were hidden under wide-brimd hats, and their high boots glead with spurs that threw off the sa steel sparks as the rifles slung across their backs and the revolvers in their holsters.
But what truly had icy fingers of terror squeezing Ardi’s heart was the sight of the people kneeling on the ground before the strangers, bound and gagged.
His people.
Kelly, in his undergarnts and a housecoat, was cradling a crying Kena who clung desperately to her toy bear. Erti was struggling against the hand on his shoulder and his mother, the gray-haired, wrinkled Shai, was quietly weeping.
And in the middle of this nightmare, this scene bordering on a grotesque parody of life, stood his grandfather. He was bony, hunched, withered, and he leaned on his cane, looking as frail as the stick he held. Only his eyes, freed from the haze of confusion, once again burned with a fierce storm that could overshadow even Ergar’s roar in its fury.
The weight of the scene that unfolded before Ardan crashed down on his consciousness like an avalanche, plunging him into a churning sea of dark chaos. Just like so long ago, during his encounter with the mountain troll, sothing treacherously whispered to him:
"Run… Go through the lands of the Fae… They won’t find you there…"
And that disgusting, cruel laughter, along with those icy claws, was pulling him away, out of there. But Ardan, feeling more disgusted by the fact that he had, even for a mont, given into it than by the fear itself, took a step forward.
And in that instant, just as he was about to throw himself at the nearest of the strangers, his grandfather turned to him. His eyes glead with an otherworldly light, and heavy words ca from his lips:
"Ardan. Stand still," was spoken in the Fae language, binding the hunter tighter than any ropes, chains, or cords ever could.
Ardi couldn’t scream or even move. Not even the tip of a finger was his to command, and he couldn’t so much as blink — his body was entirely beyond his control, his heart beating only because the shackles of his True Na allowed it.
His grandfather stood there, in the center of the dancing shadows. The one who had summoned Ergar. The one who had broken the laws of the Matabar. The one who knew the language of the Fae. And now — the one who used the magic of words with the ease with which Ardi used Star Magic.
The she-wolf had told him stories of the Speakers and the Aean’Hane, but in none of those legends or tales did Ardi rember anyone possessing such power. So, if his grandfather, even at the end of his life, could wield such mighty magic, then surely this would end quickly. Yes, of course. He would say the word, and these creatures would regret ever setting foot here…
"Is that all?" His grandfather’s voice creaked.
"That’s all, old man," replied the tall man standing before him. He was a man judging by his voice, anyways. "Those are the terms of the deal. We spare this brood. Moreover, the sheriff will receive a position as an instructor in the Delpas Cadet Corps, and your daughter-in-law will receive a good pension for the loss of her first husband. The boy will be examined by the best doctors in the province, and the little one has already secured a place in an excellent school for noble girls. As for the eldest," the stranger nodded in Ardi’s direction, "it’s all up to you. You pull any tricks, and I’ll pretend I didn’t receive these," the man waved several envelopes at him, "and I just happened to shoot him in the knees… And then the stomach. And he died slowly and painfully. Or we can, as it says here, deliver him safe and sound to the tropolis."
Ardi struggled against the bonds. He had to help them. Save them. They were his family. His responsibility. He-
"Is that all?" His grandfather repeated.
"Are you deaf, old man, or-"
"Cassara," his grandfather interrupted, as if not noticing the speaker at all, and turned his head slightly toward the figure holding the saber. "Do I have your word?"
For a mont, the courtyard was plunged into silence, broken only by Kena’s sobs and the crackling of the burning barn.
"You’ve aged," a lodious, female voice suddenly spoke.
Its owner stepped into the light, and if Ardi had not been bound, he would have thrown all laws and rules to the wind. He would have opened the paths to the City on the Hill and, Sleeping Spirits help him, he would have spoken the forbidden words he had glimpsed in the she-wolf’s ancient scroll, summoning monsters and spirits… even if it cost him his life.
She was as graceful as a cat and more beautiful than even Sidhe and elves. Her skin was as pale as porcelain and her hair whiter than snow. She was dressed in a light blouse with a plunging neckline, almost fully exposing her chest, which was barely covered by a bra. Her tight pants, belted with a holster, were tucked into leather boots that reached almost to the tops of her thighs.
She tilted her hat slightly, its brim so wide it reached past her shoulders. The firelight revealed her delicate facial features, resembling those of a doll rather than a living being. Well, a living being she was not, at least not in the traditional sense of the word. She had red eyes, cloudy as a corpse’s, and a pair of long fangs peeking out from under her upper lip.
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