Готовый перевод Сломанные крылья Серебра / The Broken Wings of Silver: 7
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Shikuno, Ristol City -- Tessa Sublunar, Silver 4th Rank
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The flash of the signal fire caught the winged maiden by surprise. The call came from the eastern outskirts of the city, from the side of the swamps, from where there are no roads or highways. That territory, two centuries ago, was transferred by her under a treaty to the Ginger Clan. The Foxes are certainly terrible fighters, but as guards and watchers they are priceless, and from the swamps sometimes crawled such things... It is better to meet with readiness and be prepared in advance. Many thousands of years ago, the ruins of ancient temples that sank underground sometimes gave rise to long-forgotten horrors.
The Shadows of the Departed, the Pale, sometimes sane, sometimes mad, but never weak. A chilly ripple of foreboding ran through Silver's wings. The Mistress did not feel strong enough to fight, especially with such an unpredictable opponent. But she could not fail to react. To show such incompetence would mean trumpeting her weakness to all. Leaving her physical shell at home, under the watchful eye of her faithful Sire, the Maiden hurried to the alarming call.
On the outskirts of the city, she had already been met by Ishibu, the Head of the Ginger House.
"Mistress!" The fox's voice was full of respect and even servility, but on the cunning and impudent face of the Ginger One, something completely different was easily read.
"I have a lot to do, Ishibu." She didn't even have to pretend to be tired and irritated. "What did you notice?"
"Oh, moon-faced one! We would never disturb you for such a trivial reason..."
"Get to the point!" Silver cut her vassal off abruptly. She knew that if Fox was given free rein, he could talk about literally nothing for years. Chatting with a mortal so that he dies of hunger or thirst is one of the Ginger Clan's favorite pastimes.
"A few hours ago, the fruit of my sister's pleasures, the little one-tailed Torris, noticed a maple leaf floating along a forest stream, swirling in small eddies..."
Silver was ready to tear this impudent fellow to pieces for his empty talk, but she held back; the agreement with the Foxes was more important to her now than ever.
"Ishibu..." Crouching down next to Ginger, the Silver maiden scratched Fox behind the ear. Her voice was deceptively kind and gentle. "You will certainly introduce me to your nephew and his story, but a little later." Stopping petting Fox, Tessa gently embraced the ginger spirit's neck and squeezed it, not too hard... "But I really have very little time now."
"Mistress..." The Fox understood the situation perfectly well, but he couldn't go against his nature and put on a whole show as if he was suffocating, and in general, Silver's light squeezing broke his neck. "I am your faithful servant, for what!.."
Tessa watched the show for about three minutes; at any other time, it would have even amused her. It was not for nothing that the Foxes were renowned as the best jesters in the spirit world. Of course, from the point of view of mortals, the Gingers' jokes were not funny at all, but rather terrible or at least dark. But who cares about humans' opinions?
"Ishibu... Call... Time..."
For the first time in all the time of cooperation between her and the Red Clan, the Fox ignored her insistent warning, continuing to clown and pretend to be dying. This meant only one thing: he was not afraid of her. Could it be he sensed her weakness with his supernatural sense of smell? But the Fox could not help but understand that her weakness was temporary, and when her strength returned, she would come here again and remind him of his disrespect. So she would remind him that many trees in the forest would receive new decorations from ginger tails!
But it turned out to be much worse. Once again, turning over in a supposed death convulsion, Red showed his back, and Silver's hand involuntarily rested on the hilt of his sword. Ishibu's fourth tail was beginning to show through, which explained his insolence and irreverence. He had become her equal. In direct combat, the Fox certainly didn't stand a chance against her, but what Fox would fight fair? And his kind had a lot of speckled cards hidden in their fur. How could she miss her vassal growing up? It takes a fox nearly a hundred years to grow a fourth tail. And she overlooked the process. She should have visited the Clan more often and kept an eye on them, but she was so pissed off by the Foxes that she tried to visit this part of her domain as little as possible. And here was the result. In a couple of years, Ishibu's tail would grow fully, and he would challenge her, or rather, the Clan would claim the city. And she would have to leave, because Silver Four couldn't cope with a whole clan, led by a four-tailed leader.
If Tessa were younger and more foolish, she would have tried to kill her would-be opponent before he was at full strength. But she knew whoever thought he could surprise Fox was already a loser. Because surprise, traps, setups, and ambushes are their forte. Perhaps Ishibu's insolence today was a provocation to force her to attack.
"Congratulations are in order." The Silver Maiden rose to her full height and stroked the hilt of her Scourge defiantly. "But I'll refrain from premature congratulations for now. The rank of four-tailed does not apply for such a stump, and to a full tail, you, my little jester, you still need to live...."
Fooling around, deceiving, and pretending a bad strategy when dealing with Gingers. But directness and pressure scare them. As strong as the Foxes are, they're too cowardly to get on the same level as Silver. Besides, it only seems like their Clan is united and monolithic. She's just accentuated her threat, and as her experience tells her, it won't be six months before she receives an unequivocal offer from one of the internal factions of the Gingers in opposition to Ishibu. And unless she could find a mage and rise in rank, she would have to accept the offer, getting involved in a feud of buffoonish spirits. On the other hand, it would be possible to give the city to the Clan and return to the Master, swearing the oath again. In favour of this decision was the fact that it was curious to see what the Foxes would turn Ristol into. But it was a fleeting weakness, and Tessa suppressed it easily.
"The Clan wishes to break the Treaty?" Ishibu's eyes darted from the question, and the fur on the back of his neck stood on end.
"No... Mistress..."
Just as she thought, Ginger proved too cowardly to challenge her now that his fourth tail was still too small.
"What's the reason for the call?"
"Gazing out at the leaf of the maple tree, little Torrice..."
She had strength left for one blow. It was foolish to waste it, especially if she didn't know what was coming from the swamps, but the Fox's insolence left her no choice. It was easier to negotiate with the Pale than with the Gingers, who had lost their fear.
Perhaps the Foxes were preparing for a fight, perhaps the clearing where this conversation was taking place was full of traps. Only the Gingers didn't have time to do anything when their eyes saw the sword swing back into its scabbard. Watching the expression on his muzzle as the Clan leader looked at his own moustache falling into the grass, the maiden realised that he had broken down. Yes, he was angry, perhaps furious, but here and now, he was broken and humiliated. And, importantly, without the moustache, his influence in the clan would be considerably less, even with his fourth tail erupting.
" My time is valuable. You paid for my attention." A brief nod to the fox whiskers lying in the grass left no doubt as to what kind of payment Silver had in mind. "You want to continue the game? And are you willing to pay extra for my participation?"
"Black Fifth. Walked through the swamps. Tried to wake up one of the Temples. Didn't have enough strength. Comes here."
"Here we go. You can be brief." Tessa crouched down beside Fox and put her palm on his scruff.
Technically, the Clan had a reason to summon the Mistress. But only technically. Blacks who periodically broke into the cold swamps, hoping to awaken one of the temples, were not a threat to the city. If they were of the second rank, they could be feared, but such powerful Executioners would never expose themselves to such a risk. Rank five, that's not serious. Which means she was called in to test her, and the ‘extra’ tail was given to her, noticed on purpose, to gauge her reaction. Feeling Ginger's pelt trembling under her hand, Tessa realised that she had passed this unexpected exam, and she should expect no trouble from the Clan in the next six months, or even a year.
"Bring Black under the grey oak tree next to the tram circle."
"Half an hour, Mistress..."
"I'll wait."
Tessa let go of the fox and straightened up majestically, turning gracefully without looking back, she strode towards the place she'd been told to go. It was almost physically pleasing to feel Ishibu's hateful and fearful gaze on her back.
Leaning against the trunk of a mighty tree, Silver replayed the recent conversation in her head. She wondered if she'd done the right thing and should have struck the fatal blow after all. Ishibu had ignored her orders, which meant she had a formal reason to break the Treaty without fearing the consequences of breaking her oath. Except that the behaviour of the head of the Gingers was overly defiant and insolent. What would the cowardly Fox do to set himself up like that without a guaranteed safety net? No, she wasn't such a juvenile fool as to believe such absurdity. And the fact that her blow had severed the impudent man's moustache was probably only because it hadn't posed an immediate threat to life. Even with the very tips of her wings, she could feel the many chants swirling around Ishibu, and it was likely that the entire clearing was entangled in an intricate ligature of ancient runes. Of course, the Lunar Sword wasn't a simple weapon, but even it could be dealt with, especially if you had prepared the place and knew the time. So she was right to trust her intuition, as she always did. Her intuition was as important to her as her speed and agility.
But what a cheeky bastard! No sooner had his fourth tail sprouted than he immediately raised his paw at her, at the Mistress! That's what the old legends say about these ‘cheeky, ginger muzzles’, that's right. It's their nature, the cheekiness that every Fox is born with, it's one of their fundamentals, it's what makes gingers ginger, along with cunning and black humour. And that insolence must be stopped instantly because if you forgive it, you're in trouble. How much had she taught Fox over the years? Tessa had lost count, but the only thing the Creator had deprived the Gingers of was memory. Two centuries ago, she'd had to almost completely wipe out all the Foxes not only in the city, but in the region as well. She had left only Ishiba and his family, and she would not regret that mercy now. To be more precise, there wasn't an ounce of kindness in that act, only cold calculation. She needed an outpost in the swamps near Her city, and she got it.
However, thoughts of Foxes need to be put out of her mind. After her demonstration, the solution to this problem is ‘bearable’. But what about the Executioner who tried to awaken the Pale? On the one hand, the swamps are kind of out of town, and she's not responsible for them. But on the other hand, if she let anyone poke around in the temples, someone would wake them up, and the nearest town to the swamps was Ristol. Which in her memory happened three times, once ended in a fight, the second time she paid off, and the third, it's better not to even remember about it....
So, she has to punish Black, to punish him in an exemplary way, to discourage others from digging in the wrong places. But there's one thing: she doesn't have the strength to carry out the punishment. Apparently, she will have to take the manner of the Gingers as a basis and intimidate the Executioner, force him to punish himself, and she must do it on a pure bluff. You could summon the loyal Sire, though; he, too, is a Black Fifth, and there is no solidarity or mutual aid between Blacks. The maiden weighed the thought for a few minutes, but still decided, wait for the troublemaker alone. Executioners are quite reasonable, but think slowly; they are slow-witted, so the idea of bluffing had the right to be realised. It was as if she'd been given a boost of brazenness and recklessness from the descendant of the jesters of the Gone Ones.
She noticed the shadow approaching her about five minutes before the unfamiliar Black approached her, but she didn't let it show. It was hard to admit, though, because she'd never seen such a shabby and even frightened member of the spirit species before. The visitor literally reeked of doom and resignation to fate.
"Ryung." Having approached five steps, as politeness requires, the dark spirit stopped and bowed his head in greeting to the strongest. "Black. Fifth. Not bound by vows. Not burdened by oaths. Seeking service."
"Why were you digging through the ruins, Ryung?"
Without introducing herself, the maiden made it clear that she did not regard him as either a guest or an applicant for service. She needed new vassals more than ever, and had it not been for the conversation with Ishibo, she would have clutched at the offer with both wings, but.... But not now, for she felt, even with the remnants of her feathers, that there was a catch somewhere, the size of the biggest mountain.
"I was looking for protection."
He really isn't smart. Trying to wake up the Pale Ones to protect him is like putting out a fire by pouring lamp oil on it.
"Do you need service or protection?" Having chosen a line of behavior corresponding to the unyielding Lord, Tessa felt herself getting used to the Role.
"Protection. In exchange for service." The Black's head bowed lower, and his voice sounded more like the whisper of a hanged man than the speech of a proud Executioner.
No matter how slow Black thinks, he's not an idiot, and since he made the request, he assumes she can protect him. Which means the threat is not as serious as it would be if she were at full strength, but not now. Right now, she won't be able to defeat even this petitioner, let alone whoever is coming after him and whom he fears. Most likely, this Ryoung has crossed the path of a similarly Black but a rank higher, and the latter is seeking revenge. Theoretically, Silver Four is more powerful than an Executioner of the same rank. But theoretically, even in the best of times, Tessa would be wary of challenging a Black of the same power level as her. She has speed, agility, and foresight on her side, but the former servants of the Lord of the Lower World have their own arsenal of abilities.
Here, Tessa caught herself thinking that everything was going as well as possible. Yes, she would not get a vassal, but she would be able to punish the offender without spending any effort at all.
"Denied!" And let his pursuer deal with this Ryung.
"I ask..."
Silver looked at the Black kneeling before her in bewilderment. How scared was he that he was going to such humiliation? He was the Executioner, and by his nature, he should not kneel before anyone except the Judge.
Besides the maiden, at least a couple of dozen of Ishibo's relatives watched the humiliation of the Black, and their eyes literally shone with pleasure. The redheads always liked to watch others being humiliated, especially since they were the ones who brought Ryung to Mistress, and therefore, indirectly, contributed to this. Which made this humiliation a hundred times more pleasant for the impudent ones.
She also liked this humiliation of the Executioner. Not because Tessa was greedy for such displays of self-importance. But because she played a Role, and this Role, the unyielding Master, was comfortable with this, and if so, then Silver felt the same way.
Every power has its own reverse side. So Silver's gift of internal transformation required literal compliance with the chosen Role, not only in external manifestations, but also in internal content. Therefore, she bathed in this humiliation, feeling as good and easy now as if she were Dancing.
For ten long minutes, she tormented the petitioner with silence. Only then to say again:
"Denied!"
Without saying a word in response, Black rose from his knees, and, barely moving his legs, dragging his Dark Sword along the ground like some kind of peasant rake, wandered towards the forest.
Sublunar was in no hurry to throw off her Role, so she didn’t move from her place, contemptuously drilling her gaze into the hunched back of the departing spirit.
In the mortal world, behind her, a tram arrived at the ring and opened its doors. Tessa noticed with a glance that all the Foxes had disappeared. Instantly, there they were, and then they were gone. The tips of the maiden's wings were immediately covered in a frost of slight fear. Had it not been for Role, she would surely have spun on her heels, baring her sword. A useless blade, devoid of Power. But Role had played her part, and she turned slowly and majestically, as befitted an unyielding Lord.
But no Role could prepare her for what she saw. A real metal tower was descending the steps of the arriving tram. Two heads taller than the maiden, clad in ghostly armor that sparkled even in the pale light of the other world, the ghostly figure easily jumped down from the steps onto the grass, revealing a rusty sword.
"Ryung is mine." It thundered like a mountain avalanche from under the lowered visor. "Stop me now, or do not interfere anymore." The protocol phrase, in the mouth of the spirit, sounded not like a Challenge, but like a sentence."
Out of the corner of her eye, Tessa noticed how the broken Black, instead of running or hiding, stopped and raised his blade into a defensive position.
"Where did you come from, so handsome?" Suddenly, a three-tailed fox materialised under Fallen's feet and began to sniff him brazenly. "Is this even legal? Why did you grow so big?"
There is no more favourite pastime of the Gingers than to mock Steel. Not because the Knights are stupid or dull-witted like the Executioners, no, the reason is that the Fallen are too straightforward, and for them, there are no undertones. And such a worldview opens up a many-tailed, simply immense space for black humour. And now, despite the enormous difference in height and strength, Ishibo's eldest son, Ikiro, almost three hundred years old, could not help himself and gave himself to his favourite pastime of mocking the straightforward warrior.
Tessa had never seen or even heard of Steel being able to reach the fifth rank before. Theoretically, of course, there were no restrictions on it, but in practice, these spirits had always either died before in numerous battles or crumbled into dust, eaten away by internal conflict, expressed in Rust.
During her reign over Ristol, more than nine Knights had been replaced at the city station, and none of them had even reached the ninth rank of the Powers. The teacher had mentioned a seventh-ranked Steel he had once known, so long ago that even the ancient spirit's memory had not remembered the details. But the Fifth?! And yet, here he was, standing before her, gleaming with the metal of his armour.
"What did your grandmother feed you?" Ikiro kept on dodging the disgruntled Knight, even though he knew perfectly well that Steel had no grandmother at all. "Where do they make them? Tell me!!! I want to grow like that too!!!"
"Go away, you're in the way." Tess expected the Knight to be furious at Fox's behaviour, but his voice was indifferent, without a shadow of irritation or anger.
"I'm not leaving." Ikiro sat down in the Fallen's path and scratched his ear with his hind paw. "I'm against it." The three-tailed fox grinned, opening his mouth wide and revealing teeth as sharp as razor blades. "I'm stopping you." With that phrase, Ginger formally prevented Steel's challenge. "Unless you tell me where they feed like that.... I'm against it." The brazen-faced one's smile turned into a menacing grin.
Foxes are the complete opposite of Steel. They are its antipodes: Lies where there is Honesty, Betrayal where there is Honor, Dexterity instead of Strength, Meanness instead of Directness. Confirming Ikiro's words, more than a dozen Ginger fighters immediately appeared next to the eldest son of the Clan, and as many more behind the Fallen.
In her life, Sublunar had seen many battles between Steel and Gingers, and in none of them had the Knights emerged victorious. And it's not because of a lack of strength or skill on the part of the Fallen. No... It's the Rust that eats away at any Steel. Rust eats huge holes in their defences, sometimes it even eats weapons. Like this Knight's sword for example. One side of his blade is almost completely useless. It is blunted, literally eaten away by Rust, that curse of the lesser Evil. Now that the initial shock had passed, Tessa had already noticed that the holes in the knight's armour were plentiful. The left shoulderplate was missing, the gorget was half rotted, there was a huge hole in the side of the cuirass on the left, the right shin was open, and many smaller gaps. Who better than a quick Fox to take advantage of such holes? But somehow this Knight had reached his rank, and what the Fallen can do at this level, perhaps no one in the world can remember.
Why do the usually cowardly Gingers get into trouble, provoking a Force that is quite powerful compared to them? Most likely, Ikiro clearly believes that he and his gang are stronger. Apparently, the eldest son has faced the Knights more than once, defeating them, and now thinks there is no reason for things to go differently. But even this does not justify the risk that this buffoon is taking.
Tilting her head as if in a gesture of mild displeasure, Mistress looked around unnoticed by the others. There was no trace of the head of the Ginger Clan anywhere. Could it be that Ikiro was playing his game over his father's head? Easy! And it was completely clear why he wanted to do this. To gain as much influence in the clan as possible before challenging his father. And he needed to challenge him as quickly as possible, because once Ishibo's fourth tail grew completely, it would be many times more difficult to displace him.
In the old days, there was a saying, "impudence takes cities". The Foxes elevated it to a motto, and it must be admitted that this principle really works. Very often bluff and bravado brought results to the Gingers, but not this time...
Once the Rusty Sword flew up and fell. And there was no speed or skill in this movement, a simple blow from top to bottom, just right for chopping wood. One swing and the eldest son of the Gibger clan was gone. Ikiro didn't even try to dodge. He just sat and watched, as if glued to the spot, as the rusty blade killed him. Anyone, even the youngest fox, would have easily dodged this blow, but he couldn't...
"No one in this city objects."
Instantly changing her role to a Tired Beauty, said Silver.
"My vassal's arbitrariness has been punished."
No, Tessa wasn't afraid of the Knight. But she could think, and the absurdity of Ikiro's death had given Silver enough data to come to the right conclusion. A black man named Ryung is the Destiny of this Fallen. And there will be no battle between them, but the fulfilment of a sentence that will result in the execution of the Executioner, ridiculous as it may sound.
Yes, the time has passed when the Gone Ones ruled and Destiny was an absolute law. But nevertheless, what once expressed the very will of the Universe cannot disappear without a trace. So it is with the old laws; now it is possible to break them, and even to avoid punishment for this violation. You will indeed have to spend many times more than if you achieve your goal without such violations. In addition, to stand in the way of someone's Purpose, it is necessary to be two ranks higher, otherwise, you will be swept away like a flake. Ikiro didn't realise this and died after failing to avoid the most primitive of blows. Silver wasn't about to make the same mistake. Besides, now she knew for sure, the punishment of the one who tried to awaken the Pale would be executed in its entirety!
"No one is stopping you any longer." Fate, Doom, and Purpiuse are high and mighty mysteries, but she was still the Mistress of this city, and she still had her duties under the Treaty with the Ginger Clan. "And I must insist that you, firstly, introduce yourself, and secondly, do not frighten the young of my vassal Clan."
As befitted her Role, her voice was full of fatigue, the echo of an unbearably heavy burden of duty. And the unyielding Steel broke, under Beauty's sad gaze.
"My name is Panf." The armored spirit said, kneeling. "Panf Moroghini. My respects, Lady, and my apologies."
Morogini... Morogini. Something familiar. It was a hundred and fifty years ago. The first experiments with combat, viral mutations, forced infections, vaccinations, and their aftermath were conducted. A young scientist who had condemned himself to death to save others. His death was painful, but he not only achieved the salvation of his group, but also, dying, managed to complete the scientific programme. Bleeding, bending from excruciating pain, the young man lasted almost a week, alone in a closed complex. The International Treaty on the Non-Use and Prohibition of the Development of Bacteriological Weapons is named in his honour. There had been much written about the case at the time, and even in a backwater like Ristol, she had read about Morogini more than once.
Despite all her cynicism and life experience, Tessa barely restrained herself from a surprised exclamation. This spirit had a worthy progenitor. After all, how is Steel born? Knights come into this world when people perform a Feat. Sometimes, a mundane, very small feat is enough. Sometimes... But not in the case of Panf.
"Tessa." With a slight movement of her palm, Silver fleetingly touched Steel's visor. "Tessa Sublunar, Mistress of this city."
She could feel her guest literally melting under her gaze and from her touch, his spiritual staples relaxing; she had clearly guessed her new role...
"Can we finish already? I'm tired of waiting, running, and hiding!"
A hysterical shriek from Black, who had suddenly regained his courage, shattered her whole game. This Fallen was almost entirely in her frail hands, and in a few more minutes, she would have had him twisted as she wished. And so ill-timed was that exclamation that it reminded the Knight of his Duty.
Rising from his knees, Steel lifted the Silver Maiden as if she were a weightless feather and placed her slightly to the side of his path. She did not resist, although she could easily dodge his palms. But it was not proper for a Tired Beauty to run from a Knight, and she did not do so either.
Two forces, whose purpose is to kill, one by necessity, the second by sentence, one was once light, the second remained flesh and blood Darkness, met on the outskirts of the city, just a hundred steps from the tram ring. Both opponents stood at the same level of power, but they were so different.
The Executioner, looking fate in the eye, gained pride from nowhere. The Black Sword fluttered in his hands like a weightless feather. His thrusts were fast and powerful, but they all crashed into the armor of Steel. The Knight did not even think to parry the enemy's blows. His blade only attacked. The Fallen relied entirely on his armor in defense, concentrating only on the attack.
Black tried his best with different tricks. His shadows rose and struck with their weapons. His sword became incredibly flexible as it tried to pierce the rusted gash in Steel's armour. Chains flew out from beneath the folds of his dark cloak and tried to shackle or slow the enemy. All without success. The Knight just seemed to ignore all these tricks, he went straight through. Just as the first dreadnought had dispersed the wooden battleships that had instantly become useless, so the Fallen One met Black's attacks as if not noticing all his efforts.
"Ah, he’s good..." Ishibo, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and rubbed his ear against her chin, said, carelessly climbing into her arms.
Few could notice that this ostentatious indifference to other attacks was just that - ostentatious. Only an experienced eye could discern how the Knight not only met each attack with his chest but also intentionally exposed the most protected part of his armor to the blow. People call a similar style of fighting Shatano. And the Fallen was a true master of it.
Putting her hand on the fox's back, the Maiden did not drive away the impudent fellow, but only whispered.
"Magnificent..." She scratched the soft fur. Holding on grudge against the Gingers is only torturing yourself and wasting your nerves in vain.
Betrayal and lies are the very essence of foxes, and if you decide to deal with them, you should not blame these spirits for following their nature. The agreement limits them strongly enough, and the fear of Silver works even better, guaranteeing her, while she is strong, more or less literal fulfillment of obligations on the part of the Clan. Because cowardice is also an inseparable part of them.
Tessa expected a quick execution, but Black managed to surprise her by holding out for more than five minutes. And this surprise was caused not by the fact that Executioner was no weaker than the Knight, but by how long he was able to resist the Fallen's Destiny. If it were not for this weight that fell on the side of Steel, it is unknown how this fight would have ended. But now, having assessed the capabilities of both sides in the duel, she knows for sure that the fifth Steel is no match for the fourth Silver. His martial skill and almost perfect armor cannot compare with her foresight and speed.
"Did you see it?" And after the fox nodded in the affirmative, Tessa picked him up by the scruff of his neck and threw him into the forest, whispering. "Hush out of here..."
Ishiba always became more understanding after trashing, so as he flew over the clearing, the old fox barked briefly, scattering his family.
Having waited until the last of the Gingers disappeared, Silver stepped towards Steel. And having taken a step, she immediately realized that she was too late. Having fulfilled his Purpose, the Knight melted away, ceasing to exist. Sitting in the lotus position, with the sword lying across his hips, this spirit literally radiated waves of calm and peace. He did not care at all that he was dying. And not just dying, but purposefully killing himself.
A Knight cannot live so long without ever taking the path of the least Evil. The most principled ones die as quickly as their initial supply of energy, granted to them at birth, runs out. Panf was clearly not one of them. He had to live and fulfill the Vow he had taken upon himself. All the sins he had taken on this path transformed into the Rust that had eaten through his armor and sword. He thought that he would atone for it with this death. A stupid, straightforward Hero... The True Highest have long since left, and there will be no one to judge him. But he doesn't care, he has long condemned himself, as has any other Knight who has killed a person at least once out of necessity. And those who do not kill, such Fallen do not exist... Not to kill, for example, the one subdued by the Brown, just to pass by, means to take responsibility for all subsequent actions committed by a madman. The path of the least Evil, one death to prevent many, the very Rust that eventually devours any Steel.
"I want to offer you a service." Sitting down next to her, Mistress said.
"Steel does not swear vassal oaths. He did not even shake his head."
"An agreement to protect the territory, not a vassal oath."
"I've lived too long, I've done too much that I regret..." The massive helmet turned towards the maiden. "But I caught up with that creature and killed it. It was his fault the virus broke free, the unsuccessful Execution in his execution, the collateral victims... I kept my Word. I'm leaving... I have no need..."
"No need", "no need"... The key is in this word. The Fallen has almost melted away. Is she really going to miss such a chance, to get such an ally, and almost completely close the issue with the protection of the city?!
There was, of course, a possibility...
But, this is so disgusting...
So nasty...
Fake...
Clichéd...
And primitive...
She almost threw up. And yet, pressing the tips of her wings to the ground with her feet, she placed her palms on Steel's shoulders, knelt in front of him and, looking into his visor, said the banal:
"Would the Knight really refuse the Fair Lady protection when she needed it so much?"
A ripple of light ran across the nearly melted armor. Steel trembled, and his hands fell on the sword.
"An agreement? Protection?" Came from under the helmet.
She won. Like any Knight, her opponent had no chance against Beauty and her weakness. The fallen spirit regained its density.
From Silver's already stunted wings, four sparkling feathers fell to the ground at once.
Everything must be paid...
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Shikuno, Ristol City - Dan Lier, the human being
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"Not quite right. It is pronounced with a stretched, soft "S" sound. Kros-s-syu."
As I promised the president, I signed up for the Austroi language club instead of the Library club. And now, I'm basically playing the role of a free tutor for nine schoolchildren. I'm very lucky that this language is not very popular in this part of the country. From our class, besides me, only Siri attended the club; the rest were older.
That is, I thought that I would rest and do my own thing, occasionally helping a classmate, but everything turned out as always in this world, not as I thought. Since I justified my transfer by saying that I wanted to help others, thereby accelerating my social adaptation in my native country, this, as I thought, empty formal reply that everyone here took at face value. Now, at these hours, I have no time for rest, especially not for my own affairs.
There is another side to the coin, though. Acting as an "almost teacher" for the seniors, I gained quite a noticeable boost in authority. Somehow, the coldness in my relationships with my classmates disappeared. Khorin and Buzo stopped emitting anger during training. This was explained by the fact that one of those I helped was Khorin's sister, a completely different person from her boar-like brother, the fair-haired, slender Bris. It was to her that I explained the nuances of pronunciation. Bris was an interesting girl, outwardly fragile as a reed, and nevertheless the school champion in boarding saber. As I already knew, Emry was also into the same type of fencing, and they also went to the same club. This explained my truly angelic patience with this girl, who had no talent for languages.
Nevertheless, despite the increased workload, I was glad I chose this particular club. These classes gave me a lot in terms of understanding the behavior of locals. Which in turn allowed me to better get used to the role of a high school student in the city of Ristol and make fewer everyday mistakes.
But the main thing is that I managed to win Siri over. For the first time in a long time, I could chat with someone about nothing, just like that. And that was important. Only after talking to her did I realize that all this time I had been living the life of a hermit.
So now, I gave the group a task to practice pronunciation of a sound combination that is unusual for Shikuno, and chatted with Siri, who had already mastered this lesson.
"You know, this happens very often. Probably stress..." The girl took my complaint very seriously. "You're not the only one. Many of our classmates, since they moved here and started studying, just like you, have stopped dreaming. The workload is taking its toll!"
Yes, yes, yes, this little thing has been bothering me lately. I really have already forgotten the last time I had a dream.
"My father told me that we dream about something every night. It's just that often we can't remember in the morning what we saw in our dreams, and it seems to us that we didn't dream about anything, but that's not true."
"I know." I read about something similar in my native world.
"Right! You still dream about something, but can’t remember when you wake up."
Eh! If only I had her confidence, but in light of the devilry here, I already treat every little thing with caution.
"I used to have wonderful and beautiful dreams," I complained to my classmate, adding regret to my voice.
"You need to try to remember. As soon as you wake up, try to write down what you remember, only right away, before you even wash your face, before the dream fades from your memory!"
"I tried." And it's real, I really did, on the third night, and no luck.
"It's not working?"
"Nope..." I shake my head in response.
"It's a pity. But don't worry, it'll pass in time!" She's dreaming, it's easy for her to say that. I'm already getting paranoid about it.
"Dan!" Brice, sitting at the next desk, called out to me. "Is that right? Cross-s-s-s!"
"No, you need to pronounce the 's' sound softer, like a hissing sound." I need to hint to her to change this club to something else; she can't do anything, despite her considerable efforts.
"S...Ss...Ss... Right?"
"It's close."
"I accidentally overheard your conversation."
I didn’t get upset because Siri and I were talking normally, not whispering, and sitting at the next table she couldn’t help but hear us.
"If you don’t mind, take my advice..." And she fell silent at the most interesting point, looking at me expectantly.
Ah! Exactly! I'm a substitute teacher in this club, and according to local etiquette, I'm treated much more respectfully in this room than an ordinary junior student. True, this only applies to this club and doesn't work outside the classroom.
"I'll be happy to accept."
"To remember a dream, try writing it down while you sleep," Brice said and fell silent, without any explanation.
"How so?" I couldn't resist asking a rhetorical question. "How can I write something down in my sleep? I'm not a sleepwalker!" Sleepwalking also occurs in this world, so they understand me.
"Oh... I said it wrong... I haven't tried it myself..." The fair-haired girl began to justify herself haltingly. "I just remembered how my grandmother taught my brother."
"Well..." I encourage the girl. "And?!"
"Khorin also stopped remembering his dreams then. She taught him..."
"Taught what?" How did she even get into high school? Or how did her brother get through the sports quota?
"You need to..." She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbed her temples with her fingers, and suddenly started chattering. "To remember your dreams, you need to go to bed with the thought and desire to write down your dream. You need to put a notebook and a pencil by your headboard, this is a visualization of your desire. And in your dream, try to remember what you want, remember this dream, and write it down. Not when you wake up, but write it down directly in the dream. Then in the morning, you can easily remember your dream and never forget it." She said all this like some kind of tongue twister, clearly quoting someone.
"In a dream... Write down your dream... Did I understand you correctly?" What nonsense!
"Aha!" She nodded happily in response.
"Thank you, Brice, you may have helped me a lot." And I'm growing in my acting skills, even Siri didn't notice my sarcasm!..
At the end of the day, having finished all my chores and completed my self-study, I thought, what do I have to lose? I got out of bed, took out my notebook and pencil, and put them near my pillow. I was inspired to take Brice's words more seriously by the analogy of her grandmother's suggested method with auto-training, which is also largely based on self-hypnosis. And since my training has a clear and visible effect, why not try it? I have nothing to lose.
Lulling myself with imaginary sand, which gradually covers me with its warmth and weight, as Kashpirovsky said, I "gave myself the order" to write down everything I dreamed about. With this thought, I fell asleep, falling into a slumber as soon as the "sand" covered my eyes.
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http://notabenoid.org/book/84161/587920
Переводчики: Camrad_RIP
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