An hour later, they were sitting together in a small room discussing all the vital and even future prospects. Yar had already thought that there would be no other tasks for today. He was wrong. The pivot action was in store for him.
“Yar, show me the last letter you received from Teko Black Rock.”
Yar nodded.
Hi Yaroslav,
I report: seven representatives of the dark clans, not counting my daughter, were honored to take part in the entrance tests to Altarum Academy. In three days, they leave for the Tix. Their place of residence is the hotel “Wasp Castle”. When you’re in the capital, please look after the princess, because I worry about her.
Teko Kamir
Vey got up and walked back and forth a couple of times, as far as the room allowed: just a few steps there—a turn, and a few steps here—and a turn.
Why is he so nervous? Yar thought, but, instead, he asked, “Teacher, I wonder why they leave so early? There are a few months to go still before the entrance exams.”
“No wonder. Exams are a serious, if not deadly, ordeal, and they take place in the highlands. Is that clear?”
Yar nodded.
“So, get ready. You need to be there even earlier in order to get acclimatized. I advise you to buy a decent property in the capital as close to the academy as possible. You will have use of it.”
Yar, apparently, wanted to argue, but he only managed to make a sound with the intonation of a question. “Aaaa?”
Vey the Shamrock stopped him with a single gesture.
“Don’t even think about it! We will manage here and on Elate without you. I will take care of your children; don’t worry. Please don’t underestimate the academy. This is the only place where you can get future allies with bribes, courage, blackmail, intimidation and, finally, through friendship. Remember the story of dragons and dwarves. Once they, devoured by pride, recklessly thought that their dual alliance would crush the domination of the light elves without difficulty. Oh, how wrong they were! You know the result of the alliance—the dragons were almost destroyed, and the dwarfs were broken. The elves diminished this proud race to almost slave status, depriving them of many rights and almost all of their significant property.”
Yar found it difficult to look into Vey’s eyes as a seemingly unlimited sea of regret, disappointment and hatred seemed to sway within them.
They then quickly said goodbye. Yar and the magician embraced, and Vey spoke a few parting words and tips. Yar mechanically shook his head, but with all his thoughts and aspirations he was already there —in the capital of worlds.
***
A man appeared in the seemingly endless Water Armistice Square in the Imperial capital. Here there were hundreds of fountains, idly wobbling representatives of reasonable races, and much more than yet inexplicable, almost imperceptible to this world...
Who was he? It was impossible to determine. The one who had arrived was wrapped up in a spacious black cape with a deep hood. He seemed to hide either from the direct rays of a star or from curious glances.
These clothes were sure to be made from very expensive and rare materials. At the bends, the fabric changed color to a deep violet, and the cape was skillfully embroidered with gold thread at the edges. This noble lord had arrived at the square, and he was most likely a court or even a high-ranking secret service worker of the Emperor. Therefore, even the representatives of the underworld of this square—thieves and robbers alike—who noticed the man, had only one desire—to run away from this gentleman and to report to the watchman.
***
The morning was not bad. The day was wonderful, and more importantly, profitable. This was a law. If the weather in the Water Armistice Square was good, then silver and gold tinkled in the wallet. If it was bad, then there was only despicable copper—or it was completely empty in the wallet.
The square today, as always, was noisy. Those there were having fun, boasting about their wealth, and shouting in different languages, completely ignoring ‘the predator’ lurking on the edge, collecting his tribute quietly. He was hard to suspect. He had neither a hole, nor a den, but only a small, neatly forged bench with a solid wooden seat. It seemed that a righteous and pious person was sitting there. His long gray hair and beard were tied up, his face was clean, and there was kind gentleness in his eyes. Due to this exhibition appearance, Kuks, nicknamed ‘The Pretender’, was greatly appreciated in the Syndicate. In the underworld, he had long been known as a recognized authority and permanent watchman over one of the busiest points of the capital of worlds.
This lucrative place was located on the very edge of the Water Armistice Square, right in front of the ‘Wasp Castle’ Hotel.
That bench had belonged to him for ages. However, the cunning old man was bored. Day after day, the events went on as usual. Bodyguards were somewhere nearby, subordinates ran around, executing orders, thieves stole, and income grew.
Wow, something happened in our swamp, the pretender thought, seeing an informant running up to him, his eyes bulging, before whispering quickly, “Sir, an interesting object arrived.” He gave the coordinates.
Kuks knew the area perfectly. A second later, he found himself surprised that he could not see anything because the cloak was effectively hiding the man.
“I don’t understand,” Kuks said, clicking his fingers. The spell ‘Determine the Invisible’ was instantly realized. Mist, moving in different directions, and structures in the form of cylinders and circles, appeared in the eyes of the old man. The thinnest fiery needles pierced these constructions, as if implanted in the old man’s pupils.
Three heartbeats later, he looked, straining and seeing nothing at all, only darkness stretched before his intense gaze, as if he had gone blind.
“What the hell?” Kuks was getting angry.
Let me see… He activated ‘Define the Invisible’ at its full capacity. Usually, it caused an almost imperceptible wound and sent the target to rebirth. Unexpectedly, and for the first time, the spell worked differently. Suddenly a multi-colored snake rushed to him from this darkness.
From where? What is this? Kuks did not have time to react. Instead, he felt a sharp pain, as if a thick pin had pierced through him. The old man had never experienced such a wild, traumatic pain. He could not shout, because his neck, jaw, tongue, and entire skull was as if it was wrapped with barbed wire. Kuks wheezed, fell over with the bench on his back, and only a few seconds later was able to hiss to a bewildered guard, “Follow him.”
The bodyguards understood and obeyed. However, they did not know what to do with their chief. With genuine horror, they looked at Kuks’ eye, torn from his head, as it lay on the pavement.
The satisfied Snake-Enchantress from satiety fell sweetly asleep.
Chapter 55. An Excursion
D ue to the unpredictable turn of events, the exit from the portal was slowed down slightly. It was a clear day. It was warm, even hot, but the light, fresh breeze from the mountains was refreshing.
The large eternal city seemed very noisy after the silence of the Ryiri Palace. It smelled of heated cobbles, stonework, and fresh pastries. Yar looked around with interest and was very impressed. He had never seen such an entertaining scene before.
The vast area, the size of three or even five football fields, was surrounded by magnificent buildings—rather, tall castles with fancy turrets, immersed in greenery. The events on the square did not give in to momentary comprehension and did not allow concentrating on something else. At first glance, this could be called the terrifying hustle of living creatures and something close to those red English telephone booths. In any case, he thought so. The red-glazed booths of quite impressive sizes appeared and disappeared as elves, dwarfs, a various people entered and left them!
“Oh my God! What a whirl!”
When the lacquered booth struck the ground on the pavement nearby, and a beautiful lady with a knight jumped out of it, talking enthusiastically, he took two steps to the side, giv
ing way to the youth, and then he finally realized what it was.
This is a local transport system like in the unforgettable Karbakh-Habo, only there, in the Dark World, the portaler had a cargo frame behind their backs, and here they have a booth with observation windows!
Suddenly, the ring on his finger warmed up, and Yar looked at it, raising his hand, but he did not notice anything unusual. The Snake-Enchantress was sleeping.
Why am I wasting my time? Yar was worried. Without further ado, he opened the door and stepped inside. He felt the sharp smell of sandalwood and pepper. It was clean inside. However, the most striking thing was the technological equipment of the booth. One of the walls of this vehicle consisted of curved glass, on which several temporal parameters were shown, as well as the ambient temperature, location and other more varied data. Like a spider on a web, the portaler, separated from the passenger by a transparent partition, hung near the board. The young man turned and looked at the passenger, then he nodded respectfully.
“Sir, close the door and sit down, please.”
Yar sat on a black leather seat, thinking, It’s comfortable.
Yar said out loud, “‘Wasp Castle’, please.”
Nothing happened, and the portaler turned around again, muttering with an apologetic smile, “Is this your first time in the capital?”
He pointed to the gigantic castle with many black towers and turrets and powerful walls of huge yellowish boulders towering over the edge of the square.
“The hotel is five hundred and ninety-three yards away. This is ‘Wasp’, sir.”
Yar swore to himself and said, “Well, since you’ve understood everything, then show me the most significant sights of the capital. Do you think an hour is enough?”
“Yes, sir. So, the Dark Academy,” the young man said, pointing towards the towering mountains.
The teleportation booth almost imperceptibly hit the base of one of the many observation platforms on the opposite mountain. Their position turned out to be perfect, and a strong wind overboard, amused the passenger by moving small pebbles, driving them around the platform. The wind peculiarly voiced the sprawling grand panorama.
“ Uuu! Sswsh! Sswsh!”
It seemed to hum on the edges of the cabin, as if trying to say, “Get out of here, mortals …”
It sometimes caused the portal booth to vibrate under the onslaught of these incoming air squalls. From there, a breathtaking view opened up. It was the seemingly endless city, stretching out below from the horizon to the horizon, the huge Altarum and the vast multi-mile stone plateau, on which this colossal complex stood.
“Sir, it is strictly forbidden to leave the booth,” the portaler warned in time. “This is a viewing platform for transport cabs only. Sir, pay attention to the stone plateau near Altarum. The exams take place here. It’s also known as the Death Tray.”
Yar immediately remembered the plateau down to the smallest details, gratefully glancing at the portaler. The information flashed before his eyes:
Aire Ant, level 256
Portaler
Specialization: Seeing the Essence
It was interesting that Yar barely distinguished Ant’s specialization. It began to fade slowly and disappeared after a few seconds. It became clear that for a moment Yar saw an inclination or even a talent that could be developed.
I should work with Ant. He is a promising guy.
“Sir, let’s go farther,” the portaler with hidden talents proposed.
“Go ahead,” Yar agreed.
The cab twitched, and they found themselves at a severe gray pentagonal building with an impressive moat and a very tall metal wall, polished to a mirror shine.
“Five Corners is the worst prison in the Belt of the Worlds,” Aire explained. Then they saw the Emperor’s Palace, striking with its steeples tossed high above the sky and its exquisite architecture—which seemed to Yar to be excessive and too elaborate. However, the portaler was clearly in a hurry, so Yar couldn’t dwell on the details.
Yar did not have time to look at either the central market or the mercenary guild. Plenty of interesting buildings were scrolling by like pages of an uninteresting magazine.
Finally, they stopped, landing near the small ledge of the cyclopean lighthouse in the seaport.
It seemed that everything was grandiose in this metropolitan city, Yar, enchanted by the current view, thought, and he worried about the precarious position of the booth. The impression was as if it could barely rest on this small cornice. In addition, he observed the absence of a number of other portal cabins.
“Sir, I’m sorry that I have to take this risk. Someone is watching you,” the portaler spoke quickly, without turning around. He focused on their flimsy, unstable position as they literally swayed on the perch and, it seemed, the portaler was fully prepared for any turn of events. Yar liked this guy more and more.
“Are you sure?” the clan leader asked. It was a surprise to him.
“Yes, they’ve been following us from the square, sir.”
The booth swayed from a particularly strong gust of sea wind, and something grated down below, but they held out.
“Sorry, sir, I did not manage to break away. Your pursuers are highly qualified professionals,” Aire Ant said, sincerely upset.
Yar chuckled.
“You are mistaken. You just do not know yourself. If I disappear, will you have problems?”
“I hope not,” the young man answered disappointedly. The booth then bent, froze for a moment, and flew down.
“I will find you, Ant!” Yar managed to shout, putting a tag on the portaler.
Yar came out of the portal and immediately noticed the sharp smell of the fish market, deciding that it was the best place to break off if his pursuers were tracking the trails. This time he wisely dressed himself in a coarse, long robe of faded black color, with wide sleeves and a huge hood. The ancient clothes expropriated in the caches of Ryiri Palace were suitable, and no one paid any attention to Yar.
Having walked a little along the fish rows, and having seen enough of various sea wonders, he came to the repair shops. There were fewer people here; they were mostly craftsmen. Finally, Yar saw several buildings with flat roofs. Going into a narrow alley filled with coils of twisted ropes, and after waiting a few minutes and making sure that there was no surveillance of him, Yar jumped onto one of the roofs.
“Oh, yes! This is what I need!” Yar exclaimed. It was the cluttered roof of a large boathouse and, judging by its appearance, no one had wandered here for a very long time. There were pieces of metal, trimming pipes, damaged wheels, building materials, iron cables of various thicknesses and degrees of rust damage, and much more.
Yar was looking for a place where he could safely hide and work on the camouflage of the frame, once such an opportunity appeared. Leaving it in sight was unreasonable, and he looked at his hit bar.
Yar Row Dark, level 9 653
Killer of the Highest
Twilight Dragon Specialization
Why haven’t I taken care of this before? This is my omission ... I should have thought of that!
After a few minutes of wandering, he found himself in luck: in a pile of hollow, twisted and surprisingly light balks, he saw a strong tiny shed, once set on a height, in order to look at the area, but this was only a guess.
The door was heavy, and Yar could barely open it. Its massive hinges creaked treacherously. Fortunately, no one heard this noise below—in the boathouse—as work was going on at full speed, which would have muffled even louder sounds that those Yar created. It was surprisingly clean and austere inside the shed: a stool, a table, a bed, and bare walls. The location was more than suitable. Yar was surprised to see that the wood was strong, smooth, and almost white with a subtle vanilla smell.
Having closed the door, Yar sat down on a stove bench, leaned his back and nape against a warm wall, lazed around for about five minutes, enjoying the silence, and then he went into the Demiurge Workshop.
Yar Solid, level 728
Universal Wizard
Specialization: Portals
Yar smiled. Doesn’t seem too bad.
He used his name and chose almost the minimum level for entering the Academy, remembering that the seven hundredth level of the applicant was the minimum for admission to the exams.
His relaxation did not last long as Yar recalled the invitation from Eagle Tamp. He swore, pulling the card. He read:
Dear Yar Solid,
The High School of Magic Altarum found you worthy of their entrance tests.
Chief Rector,
Eagle Tamp
Fortunately, the changes affected everything and were invisible, so Yar left the gatehouse in a good mood. He looked around, listened, and launched a scan on the roof—there was nobody. He immediately activated his disguise and spent a lot of time on it, but now it was impossible to detect this shed from a distance of two to three yards.
He wanted to perfect the disguise when Lyan’s disturbed voice interrupted him, “Master, the portaler, Aire Ant, seems to have a hard time.”
Yar gasped, looking through his tactical interface, and the picture was not joyful.
The clan leader saw a torture room, and his familiar portaler hung on the rack, sobbingly, staring intently at the pieces of his portal booth, completely oblivious to the whip that was tearing into his flesh. Yar got angry, then everything happened quickly.
Something otherworldly, ruthless, insane and almost invisible, burst into the torture room of the Syndicate. The executioner lifted his arm, but he suddenly fell into pieces, and the walls and the portaler were covered with blood. Two guards, a clerk and a one-eyed old man, who managed to blink and fill his lungs with air for screaming, were chopped up as if in a meat grinder, together with the inventory items—a high chair and a desk.
Dark Legacy Page 31