Dark Legacy

by Valery Starsky

  I t was extremely comfortable in this room. It was a small amphitheater with carpets of soothing colors. Around the circumference, there were rows of sofas, as if attracting those standing with their softness and convenience.

  “Sit down.”

  The people readily sat on the sofas. Yar looked at these people, at these teenagers and children, and he thought, Am I doing everything right? Am I not mistaken? This is a responsible task. What if they fail? However, I’m confident they’ll cope with everything and won’t fail. This baby has an adult look; she has seen many scary events in her lifetime. What a terrible childhood she must have had. Well, I need to start. We are under acceleration, even if it’s not dimensionless yet.

  Yar went down to the improvised arena. Turning to the gathered people, he raised his hand as if calling for silence—although the room was already quiet—and he began to speak.

  “I won’t beat around the bush explaining how bad everything is. You already know this. We are almost on the verge of extinction, our cities have been captured, and our enemy is highly experienced, cruel and almost omnipotent. But we have ourselves a chance to survive and finally become free!”

  Then, Yar went silent. The little girl, Alice, jumped off the couch in her filthy dress and white sandals and said quite loudly and confidently, “Yar, you’re good, but the elves will come and kill us. They are already approaching and there are five of them.” The girl frowned, showing a splayed little palm.

  “Five, I got it, Alice,” Yar replied, ordering the Guardian to bring out the real picture of the enemy, asking the girl, “Is that them?”

  Immediately, all the people in the meeting room saw a three-dimensional picture: the five prowling elven huntsmen. Someone instinctively tried to run. Yar stopped them by shouting, “This is only an illusion! You have nothing to fear!”

  The little girl was not frightened. Instead, she very calmly pointed at the sneaking elves with her finger and suddenly giggled merrily and clapped her hands.

  “Yar, it’s them! They will soon fly off into space like fireworks,” Alice showed with her hand how they’d disappear and then laughed, jumping on the spot.

  Wow, she is a clairvoyant, the stunned Yar thought and immediately abandoned his plan to send the children across to the Dark World.

  He said to the Guardian, “Mimi, how many of these people can stay in the tower under its greatest acceleration, starting from external time? I need ten days.”

  “Master…” the Guardian replied sadly, and Yar saw an explanatory note:

  Safe staying of living beings in the Star Key Tower under the maximum speed of thousand-time acceleration:

  Minutes - hundreds of living beings

  Hours - dozens of living beings

  A day - a few living beings

  A few days - the owner of the tower

  * Note:

  planetary time is the standard of counting

  Heck, Yar thought. I will have to go back to my first plan.

  Yar spoke again, gesturing toward the fearless Alice.

  “Look, guys, this is one of our clear advantages, which gives us hope for survival — the people themselves.

  There’s plenty of highly talented people among the survivors of the two Transformations, especially the children.

  The other advantage of ours is the planet itself, our Mother Earth, which has also undergone a double Transformation: the fauna, flora, the subsoil, and the material resources received enviable, sometimes incredible, characteristics. For example…” Yar took out a bottle of Essentuki mineral water to display. “Can everyone see? Read the stats.”

  The people nodded with interest.

  “This is also incredibly cool.” Yar showed the group some Cuban cigars. “Got it? This has happened with everything from perfume and medicine to metal and plastic.”

  “Let’s go further,” Yar continued after a short pause, giving people time to assess the potential of these resources. “After the well-known events, a lot of rational or pseudo-rational representatives of the fauna and, oddly enough, flora appeared on the Earth. You already know about the swifts and primroses.”

  The gathered people commented together, “Yes! Right! We know! We saw!”

  “Well,” Yar continued, “why don’t we, earthlings, turn this all to our advantage? After all, this is our land, our rivers, and our seas. Additionally, we still have the Magic of Affect. This is a very powerful universal magic, perfectly suited for people, as the very emotional and inventive creatures we are.”

  Without thinking twice, Yar took out the slave collar from his spatial pocket. The people’s faces turned gray.

  “We all know what it is, as well as the infinite multitude of races of the Belt of the Worlds. No one had managed to remove these slave collars over thousands of years. Yet I managed to do this with the help of Magic of Affect. You were all witnesses to this.”

  Yar saw how people’s expressions changed, how their eyes began to shine differently as if hope and self-confidence were gradually returning to them all.

  He continued, “In addition, I am almost certain that all earthlings may have a fighting self or personage. Legends are told about this ability in the Belt of the Worlds.”

  Alice could no longer sit still as she listened to it all. She stood, flushing, almost dancing, trying to say something.

  Finally, the child said, “Yar, the good dark elves say our leader can turn into a dragon. Can you really?” The girl, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes, observed the head of the clan closely.

  Yar courageously refrained from laughing, but he could not help smiling.

  “Won’t you be scared?

  The girl shook her head defiantly.

  “No! I love dragons, especially Night Fury. Oh!” The little girl screamed, covering her mouth with admiration as he turned. She had not realized, just like everyone else, that a real dragon could be so impressively frightening, huge and yet incredibly beautiful all at once.

  It looks like I went too far. Yar saw the guests squeezed into the sofas and quickly reverted to his human state, getting rid of the thoughts arising in his head: I need to break free from this dungeon as quickly as possible and fly into the sky with the feather-like clouds.

  Yar didn’t like the way the people looked at him now—was it fear? Inside him, accusatory words fought with each other, trying to break free, We are alike. We are all from here, from these hooligan yards. We all have the same rebellious blood mixed in eternal fog and rain. Am I so different?

  He had to say other words to distract those present. “Now, the main thing is that many nations have joined us—the hardworking dwarves, the warlike lefars, the majestic dragons, and the skilled-in-battle Shadows. I am confident others will join us sooner rather than later. By the way, we also have access to the Dark World — a strange planet orbiting a huge dark hole on the outskirts of the Universe.

  “Time flies there very quickly, and fifteen years in the Dark World is equal to only ten days here. It’s safe for people, and you can train hard there. There you will have the best martial arts teachers within the Belt of the Worlds, but you will have to master the magic you are shown.”

  Yar thought, remembering Mote with more than a measure of pain. “I, of course, hope one windy person will help you. Nevertheless, you must rely on your own capabilities only. So, I repeat, people, all nineteen thousands of you, you will have to comprehend magic on your own. Attention!”

  Yar spoke these invocatory words using all his strength and skill.

  “I repeat. Attention! You will become this core of magical learning!”

  After that, questions rained down on him. The owner of the tower waited until everything had subsided, and then he clearly and lucidly told everyone about the elven huntsmen, about the acceleration, and about all the work that he now had to endure in six days, presented by the ‘Star Key’.

  Yar looked at his, one might say, first adepts of the Magic of Affect. Of course, everything had happened too
quickly, but he liked and was proud of all of them. All this time, they had worked hard, absorbing new information like sponges. It was pleasant to look at young magicians: everyone had powerful sources and the same magical doubles; their pathways were expanded to the maximum. Yar added several large amplifier nodes to each person. He admired Alice and did not want to let her go. Now the little girl was standing at attention; it seemed that today would pass quietly and nothing would threaten anyone.

  She is funny. Yar finally looked at her with his magic vision, habitually using the maximum filter. As always, he did not even see the contours of the little girl’s body: it was instead a huge pulsating ball.

  It will be a long ten days of waiting! he thought.

  Then the Midnighters’ clan leader said, “Well, you’ve worked great for these six days. Continue to train in the Dark World and remember: we need not only combat magicians but artifactors and all other everyday areas of magic, too. You are the future core of the clan and must respect this high status. I gave the order to the Treasurer, now each of you will receive a million gold—this is a bonus from me personally for your zeal and success. You have only two hours: find the best equipment on the stock exchange, prepare for the journey to the new world, and then go and train others.”

  “Taisia, Arthur, Machete, come to me,” Yar commanded.

  When they ran up, he took Machete’s hand and raised it up. “I appoint Machete as the head of the expedition to the Dark World. Follow his orders implicitly. Is that clear?”

  In response, he heard, “Yes!”

  Yar put mentors that had been taken from a memorial pyramid on Taisia, Arthur and Machete’s wrists and said, “Then go ahead and good luck!”

  The portal transfer occurred instantly.

  ***

  The five elves had formed a detachment a long time ago.

  They had been involved in various ordeals in different parts of the universe following the fate and the orders of their commanders.

  They had long gone astray of those they had killed. Today, the elves were sent to this strange planet — the Blue World — at the disposal of the Governor. They considered him a lowbred noob, a lover of balls and receptions. He did not even allow them to look around and clean up before he immediately sent the elves here, two thousand miles from the Palace of Capture.

  They reached the starting point in a little under an hour. The elves had never met such a wild and aggressive abundance of nature; they admired the huge trees and flowers. Then, the elven detachment walked into the Pulkovo Heights magical forest of met with resistance from the local flora and fauna. Moreover, for the first time, they couldn’t find contact with the living creatures, so the light elves decided to retreat and contact the local curator. However, they again faced an unknown phenomenon: the elf huntsman could neither deal with their superiors nor use the portal. They were forced by a conventional hand signal to come together in one place and talk quietly.

  “The Third, the Fourth, the Fifth, patrol the perimeter.”

  Three elves seemed to dissolve, going in different directions, and the two remaining lay next to each other.

  “The First, you know, I’m very surprised: this forest is as powerful as that of the Emperor.”

  “The Second, you aren’t in the copy of the high elf. You can speak sincerely. The Imperial forests are not as magnificent as this one. To be honest, I haven’t seen anything grander than this forest in my life. I don’t understand it at all, but I have never been so amazed. We will proceed farther along the edge of this wonderful forest; we will kill all reasonable creatures. We need to define the boundaries of this area, and we must catch a POW by nightfall.”

  “Go ahead,” the First said, and they were soon lost from sight in the grass.

  Chapter 22. Merge

  T here was a quiet, warm rain accompanied by a wide rainbow spreading over the open portal to Tyrr.

  This is a good sign, Yar thought.

  He was watching his people who were going fearlessly into the wide portal—like a formidable mountain avalanche. All this time, Yar had tried to deal with his feelings. His heart ached from a sense of loss, and at the same time, he felt immense pride in these strong and still very young people, who unhesitatingly went off to the very edge of the Universe.

  It came to his mind, They will return in a year or two. They will come and gain their revenge both on those who have caused them suffering and from those who served the damned elves.

  Yar waited for the portal to shut.

  “Well ... another ‘seed’ has been planted. ‘Plants’ will sprout soon, but we need to go further,” he mused.

  Yar tried to find Ran Row on his tactical map, but for some reason he did not immediately see a senior dwarf. An idea dawned after a few seconds because he would probably be working with his favorite pickaxe. Yar intensified the search and immediately detected the dwarf in the adit. This king of the dwarves chopped rock in a frenzy with a frozen mask of childish enthusiasm, large crystals lying nearby. Some of them were shining from the inside and shimmering in various colors with a fascinating light. When Yar saw this and the working form of Ran Row, he immediately thought, Well, this dwarf looks like a live combine; it won’t be easy to lure him out of the adit.

  Yar prepared a little and said, “Hi, Bro! I need you.”

  There was no reaction. Nothing at all.

  Finally, the dwarf deigned to answer, “Well, hello. I think you can do it without me, you are already an adult,” the dwarf grumbled in displeasure, obviously annoyed that he was being distracted from his work.

  Then Ran Row added more emotionally, “There’s such ... such ... treasure here! You’ll never understand this!” He hit forcefully against the rock, knocking out a huge section.

  Yar grinned and conciliatorily raised his hands. “Okay, okay! Work, if necessary! Work! But listen to me, please.”

  The dwarf miner didn’t even stop working or answer. Instead, he continued to wave his terrible pickaxe, shaking the very mine.

  “So, Ran. I’m planning on attacking the Elven Palace of Capture in an hour’s time. I want to pillage it completely and destroy it to the ground, and then I plan to steal the very foundations.”

  The famous pickaxe froze in the air as if someone had put the moment on pause.

  Ran replied, his voice hoarse with excitement, “Do I understand correctly that this would not only be for the princess’s rescue? Are you going to rob the Palace of Capture and then dismember it and drag it to another place?”

  The dwarf paused briefly and then shouted deafeningly, “But how? This is crap! The light elves will immediately send their huntsmen here! The Palace is not a Constructor... It won’t work, Brother!”

  Now Yar shouted, following the dwarf’s style of communication.

  “Ran, don’t waste time! I have thought of everything. Let them rip around, these damn elven albinos! I promise they will all go to fucking Hell without reincarnation!”

  The dwarf laughed, shaking his head, wiping away tears, and dropping his pickaxe.

  “You said it, Brother! Cool! Ahaha!”

  Ran Row was still, though, scratching the shaven back of his head in pensiveness and frowning over his thick eyebrows, apparently thinking, Why not? Looks like Yar, this favorite of the gods, again came up with something incredible. He can make it! Yar is clearly inspired. I will later regret it for all my life if I do not take part in the destruction of the elven palace. The Dwarf King Ran Row - Destroyer of the Palaces of Capture! That has a ring to it!

  Yar had to take a step back, so deafeningly the dwarf now roared. Ran Row looked like a moose on a rut, quickly placing his pickaxe in his inventory.

  “Hey! Hey! Bro, don’t you dare. Do you hear? Don’t you dare start without me! I will take offense at you for the rest of my life! I will deprive you of receptions, a small throne, balls of every kind, the Foothills beer, and even warm socks!”

  Yar burst out laughing. The dwarf frowned.

  “Why are
you laughing like a madman? I, after all, will not even have time to prepare for the journey. It took me almost two hours to fly here. Put off the capture for an hour, Brother, eh?”

  “Come on! I give you twenty minutes to pack. By that time, be ready, I will take you to the portal, and then I will convey my apology to the dragons because I cannot take them with me for the operation — they are extremely noticeable.”

  The dwarf stared at Yar for a couple of seconds, not understanding what he was talking about. Finally, he waved his hand and began to put the mined ore in his subspace pocket with the speed of a Komatsu bulldozer.

  Yar shook his head. The royal earner, damn it. He definitely works for the benefit of the treasury.

  The Guardian’s voice then distracted Yar from the sight of his brother plundering his native planet.

  “Master, a little more than three minutes remains before the collision with the huntsmen in real time,” the Guardian squeaked in an alarming voice, adding with some insinuous subtext, “Try to merge. This time you should succeed; you have already spent enough time in the tower.”

  Yar, at the insistence of Mimi, had previously tried to merge with the tower, but he did not get anything except wild pain, ripples in his eyes, severe dizziness, and some vague sensations he couldn’t quite place.

  He inhaled deeply a couple of times, filling his lungs with oxygen, and then he yelled, “I never retreat!”

  Yar, closing his eyes and grouping, mentally ordered, Merge! The feeling was very painful, as if a powerful fighter had hit him with a wide board across the face. At the same time, the same inexpressible ‘bliss’ happened to both his sense of smell and hearing.

  One thought throbbed in his head: Endure, endure, and endure!

  Yar couldn’t say how long this torment lasted. He had an inexplicable alien sensation that was worse than both pain and nausea. Suddenly, everything ceased. All the negative feelings faded away, and he immediately felt everything and everyone across long distances. Yar felt like an invisible wind or a lump of power in this infinite world, and here he seemed to be able to do anything, for that was his personal world.