Dragon Heart

by Kirill Klevanski

  “Don’t be so certain he’ll fail, reptile.”

  The sky, which had been blue and clear a moment ago, descended. It’d turned gray, and the clouds had become dark. The wind was now icy. A black bird flapped its wings right in front of Traves. It looked like a mix between a falcon and a crow, and it was seemingly grooming its sharp feathers, which looked like blades.

  “You’ve gotten pretty brazen, Enemy,” Traves growled.

  “Brazen?” The bird’s voice rang out like an alarm bell. “You’re only a guest here, nothing more. Don’t get ahead of yourself, reptile. While I do let you teach him, that doesn’t mean I’ll put up with your insolence.”

  The dragon’s eyes flashed with fury. He slowly got up, and as he did so, his appearance changed: his green robes turned into frightening armor, his horns curled into a helmet, his nails turned into claws, and a massive halberd appeared in his hands.

  “Begone, Enemy!” Traves’ lips didn’t move, but the sky nearly split in half from the force of his roar.

  The bird made a sound that resembled a croaking laugh.

  “Does a pathetic Lord dare to order me about?”

  The bird didn’t even move, only its red eyes flashed. Traves bent under the pressure of an incredible power. His armor cracked. His horns broke off, and his halberd flew out of his grasp. He, a being that had rebelled against the Dragon Emperor, was now lying flat on the ground, unable to move. Perhaps if he’d assumed his true form, he could’ve resisted the shackles of this alien power. However…

  “Let me hear a proper roar, beast! I want to see your power! Assume your true form,” the bird urged him.

  Traves remained lying on the ground. He knew that if he used too much power, the resulting dissonance could harm Hadjar. He wouldn’t allow this to happen, and not just because the young man hadn’t completed his part of their deal...

  “Know your place, reptile,” the black bird croaked out snidely.

  The pressure disappeared, and Traves, breathing heavily, got back up and sat on the stone. Looking at the bird, he realized how enormous this world truly was. Residing on the border between his and Hadjar’s soul, he hadn’t immediately noticed the presence of anyone else. A few years had passed before the black spark regained consciousness. Even more time had passed before it had been able to free itself from the shackles that the laws of the Heavens and Earth had bound it in. Traves hadn’t paid attention to it at first. Then everything changed when Hadjar passed the test of the Tree of Life and accepted its gift. He’d taken that damned black sword... Traves hadn’t been able to believe his eyes. His mother had used to scare him with those old, stupid horror stories back when he’d been a child. Only after his death had Traves learned that those horror stories were all true.

  How strong the Enemy must have been billions of years ago if even now, after his death, his remnant, which was just a billionth part of the smallest grain of his power, was able to influence someone else’s soul.

  “Why don’t you just kill me?” Traves asked.

  “You’re already dead.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  The bird looked at the dragon.

  “You’re already strong enough to get rid of me,” Traves continued. “Then Hadjar won’t have to fulfill his part of our deal and you’ll be able to directly influence him and forge the boy into your ideal weapon.”

  “The boy,” the bird repeated slowly. “Do you truly sympathize with his plight, oh fierce Lord of the Heavens?”

  The bird said those last words with a grin.

  “You don’t? He’s blood of your blood. Flesh of your flesh.”

  “Flesh of my flesh,” the bird laughed. “Thousands of people just like him are scattered all over this world. People who have my blood flowing through their veins and my spirit sleeping within them.”

  “But your spirit only awoke inside him.”

  “For now, yes. But, even dead, you can sense that the winds of change have started blowing. Mage City will soon appear and the Magistrate of the Seventh Heaven is making more and more mistakes by the day. Mortals are fighting more often, animals are moving from place to place... Even your reptile brain, lacking though it may be, can surely comprehend that all of this is related.”

  Traves didn’t answer. He really did feel like something was happening in the outside world. It was unlikely, however, that anyone besides the great Immortals could also notice these changes. So, proximity to the Enemy and being in a state of neither life nor death had its advantages.

  “As for this lump of flesh,” it was clear that the bird was referring to Hadjar, “as you so eloquently put it, a child shouldn’t play with real weapons. Let him play with you in your little sandbox. You’re perfect for each other, you miserable jerks.”

  “He’ll die trying to repay his debt to me.”

  “If he does, that means he’s too weak!” The bird raised its voice only slightly, but black lightning flashed across the sky. “If he doesn’t, he’ll become stronger. Maybe I’ll pay more attention to him if that happens.”

  Traves watched the flashing lightning disappear.

  “Then why are you trying so hard to restrain yourself, Enemy? Assume your true form, break through the boundaries of his soul, and emerge into the real world once again.”

  The bird’s red eyes flashed again.

  “Stop teasing me, reptile. As soon as I do that, there will be nothing left of your precious piece of flesh, not even a memory.”

  “Nor of you, Enemy,” Traves’ voice began to turn into a growl again, “and perhaps Hadjar would consider it an honor to die, if it meant locking you up for the next several billion years.”

  “I’ll awaken in others.”

  “While you are awake in him, the rest of your descendants won’t be able to awaken your pitiful remains. On top of that, you already presented your sword to this family.”

  “The others also have some gifts.”

  “But not the sword!” Traves rose again. His hair swayed, turning into scales. “So don’t pretend that you don’t care about his fate. You depend on him as much as he does on my heart! I’ll say it again, Enemy. Get out! Don’t show your face here again!”

  The bird spread its wings and croaked menacingly, but then flapped its wings once, then a second time, and then it completely disappeared somewhere behind the clouds, becoming a distant, black dot.

  Traves was about to immerse himself in meditation that would allow him to observe Hadjar’s life, when the wind brought the words: ‘Your time is nigh, reptile!’ along with loud laughter. It was hot, like steel that had recently seen battle.

  Traves looked up at the sky. The clouds turned white again and the gray disappeared, returning to its original azure. The wind was light and warm again. By the High Heavens, every time he visited this place, with each new step he took along the cultivation path, Hadjar only got closer to his death.

  “He’ll never be your slave, Enemy.”

  The bird didn’t answer, and Traves finally plunged into meditation.

  Chapter 379

  Hadjar opened his eyes. His heart ached. He’d never felt like this after meeting with his Master. However, at that moment, he felt as if he’d fought himself. Shaking his head, Hadjar disregarded his musings and looked up at the sky. He read the stars, determining his approximate location and making simple calculations to discover that he had slept for...

  “Three days of healthy, sound sleep,” Salif whispered, helping Hadjar sit up, “is the best medicine, in my opinion.”

  So it had been three days, not eight.... He really missed the neural network sometimes!

  Thanking the old man, Hadjar got up and stretched with relish. After a three-day sleep, he felt completely rested, but his body was numb. His muscles, deprived of any physical activity, had ‘gotten lazy’.

  ‘Where is everyone?” Hadjar asked.

  A bonfire was crackling nearby. Hieroglyphs were flickering along the borders of their camp, erecting another veil.
Only he, the old man, and the servant boy were near the fire.

  “They left to look for your lake,” Salif answered, advising the boy on how to cook the porridge.

  “Of course,” Hadjar nodded. “My lake.”

  Recalling South Wind’s advice that only old people could argue with old people and he should thus try to avoid doing so himself, Hadjar looked around again, more attentively this time. However, nothing much had changed over the past few days.

  The forest was the same, full of strange vegetation unknown to Hadjar — a mixture of palm trees, birches, and fir trees. They looked a little scary, but were quite harmless. Of course, if you confused a vine or a branch with a venomous snake, it wouldn’t end well for you.

  There was a stone not far from the fire. It had a diameter of sixteen inches and was ideally suited for his purpose. Approaching it, Hadjar squatted down, grabbed the stone, and jerked it out of the ground. The whole stone, once revealed, was about twice as big as what he’d expected, but that only made it better.

  Hadjar cut the stone perfectly in half with his sword. Placing them on their sides, he rolled under them and, after hoisting them on his back, began to push up. Each of the halves weighed at least eight hundred pounds. Such an immense weight would’ve been a considerable challenge for a Heaven Soldier at the initial stage, but not for Hadjar. Even if he was sweating and biting his lip, he still managed five sets of twenty repetitions each by the time the squad returned.

  “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” Einen shook his friend’s hand and patted his shoulder. “I see that, as always, you’ve gotten a little stronger after such a deep sleep.”

  He uttered the last phrase in the language of the islands, using a very rare dialect he’d taught Hadjar how to use recently. They hadn’t been happy about Karissa being able to understand their conversations.

  “Everyone has their own secret,” Hadjar winked at the islander.

  “Secrets,” Einen corrected him.

  “Barbarian,” Ramukhan nodded. “It’s good that you woke up. We have something to discuss.”

  Judging by Tilis’ expression, she was against her boss’ plan. However, she had enough willpower to not object outright.

  After a light dinner, they held a council. As always, Salif and the boy weren’t present. Salif was nothing more than a repository of information, and the boy served him. They didn’t have the right to take part in the council.

  “Here and here.” Glen marked two spots on the map they’d drawn on the ground.

  “These are lakes?” Hadjar asked.

  “Exactly,” the Baliumian nodded. “Out of all the lakes we explored, those match your description the best.”

  Hadjar thought about it for a moment. He had no idea which lake they were looking for. Moreover, he didn’t know how to find the entrance to the city. He just felt like the dream he’d had shouldn’t be ignored.

  “Judging by your expressions,” Hadjar took his pipe out of his caftan’s pocket, “there are some difficulties.”

  “Exactly.” Karissa, taking the stick from Glen, continued drawing. “On the way to the eastern lake, we spotted at least six groups of other seekers. Tilis’ divination spell confirmed it.”

  “I don’t see a problem here.”

  “The problem, barbarian, is” Ramukhan interrupted them, “that, besides the numerous weak bastards, there are also a few Heaven Soldiers among them.”

  Hadjar looked at Einen, who shook his head imperceptibly. It was a good thing that they hadn’t detected Shakh’s group, otherwise one of Hadjar’s mad plans would’ve ended in complete disaster at the preparation stage.

  “What about the other lake?” Hadjar pointed at the other mark.

  It was west of the seekers.

  “It’s hopeless,” Tilis shook her head as she suddenly joined the conversation. “There is an anomaly there that’s so potent not even Sankesh could deal with it easily.”

  “By the way, since we’re talking about Sankesh,” Glen added, “He and his squad are heading directly for the west lake. I don’t know who his pathfinder is, but the man knows his business.”

  “Why would you presume it’s a man?” Tilis asked indignantly, but was ignored. Her indignation was nothing more than a ploy meant to incite another quarrel or brawl. Now that they were so close to their goal, nobody wanted to waste time on such tricks.

  “An anomaly,” Hadjar muttered.

  After he mulled things over, he suddenly removed the leather wallet that held the two bracelets from his belt. Concentrating on something, Hadjar began to slowly move the wallet over the map.

  “A divination amulet?” Karissa asked. “But I don’t feel any energy in it and-”

  “And,” Ramukhan continued, “The barbarian wouldn’t have had enough money to afford one. We can’t even afford one. So stop this nonsense-”

  The sorcerer abruptly closed his mouth. As Hadjar held it above the second mark, the wallet emitted a barely noticeable ringing.

  “We should go here,” Hadjar nodded, tying the wallet back onto his belt. “Furthermore, it’s obvious that the entrance would be in the area where most of the dangers are.”

  “Why would you think that?” Glen rolled his eyes. “Because of the ringing of your wallet?”

  This time, no one supported the Baliumian.

  “Demons and gods!” Glen exclaimed. “Are you serious? Why would you ever go along with this crazy plan? I can understand everything else: the dragon, the lake, Sankesh, but, damn it all, the ringing of a wallet! You’re all crazy! The barbarian is out of his mind, and you’re indulging him!”

  “No,” Karissa shook her head, “we’re just waiting to hear your brilliant ideas.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Glen gave her a mocking bow. “Listen to the voice of reason! Listen to me! We should go back to the Demon’s Heart, see where the comets will intersect, and set an ambush there. We’ll have enough time to set up traps that even Sunshine Sankesh won’t be able to overcome.”

  “All of that sounds good,” Ramukhan agreed. Glen, hearing the squad leader praising his plan, exhaled in relief and snorted triumphantly at Hadjar. Alas, his happiness didn’t last long. “There’s just one small problem, Glen: there is an elixir of the gods in that city! Sankesh or someone else will come out of Mage City after becoming a god! Do you know what gods are capable of? I don’t. But I suspect that your obstacles will seem like child’s play to them.”

  “Then we should go back to Underworld City,” Glen almost begged, “otherwise we’ll all die here.”

  “I didn’t know that mothers raised cowards in the north,” Tilis grimaced, and then looked at Hadjar. “On second thought, I did. They raise cowards and traitors.”

  Despite their best efforts, the fire of conflict began to reignite in the squad. Surprisingly, it was stopped by Salif’s boy this time:

  “I think I know a way past the anomaly.”

  These words made the screaming practitioners shut up instantly. Everyone turned to the boy. He tried to look brave, clutching a ladle in his hands like one would a sword, but he was clearly very afraid.

  “Another brilliant idea,” Glen howled. “This godforsaken sun has roasted all of your brains!”

  “Shut up,” Ramukhan waved him off and thought about it for a moment. “The boy is right. The anomaly that Tilis spotted has one feature we’d normally disregard, but it could prove useful now.”

  “What feature?” Hadjar asked.

  “It doesn’t react to mortals.”

  “Even so, the boy isn’t a mortal,” Hadjar ignored the boy’s displeasure. “What level is he at? The Bodily Rivers?”

  “That’s easy enough to fix,” Karissa opened her book and showed him another talisman, “I can seal his meridians for a short time, making him indistinguishable from a mere mortal.”

  Ramukhan nodded and asked the boy:

  “Are you ready?”

  “I am,” the young man nodded, glancing smugly at Hadjar and Einen. They onl
y sighed sadly. The boy was clearly destined to die.

  Chapter 380

  They decided to go to the lake in the morning. Everyone spent the rest of the night preparing. Tilis and Karissa created talismans. First, they took small pieces of red cloth and paper. Then, placing the future talismans in front of themselves, they whispered something. Energy lit up on the tips of their index fingers, and they used it to draw various hieroglyphs and symbols on the paper they’d prepared.

  Hadjar felt flows of energy appear in the simple pieces of paper and cloth with every new word and gesture they made. Unlike everything else that surrounded Hadjar, these flows appeared to be... frozen. Everything under the sun had energy. It was vivid and quite noticeable. However, within the talismans, it was frozen, as if they’d submerged it in very thick ice.

  Shaking his head in frustration at his own lack of knowledge, Hadjar returned to his training. After his dream, his mind knew every minute detail of the ‘Rustle in the Treetops’ Technique, but his body didn’t. After finding a convenient site, Hadjar began to practice the Technique. Without using any energy or his knowledge of the Sword Spirit, he performed the same stance and strikes over and over, aiming to make his muscles ‘remember’ how and in what sequence they needed to move. This wasn’t overly complicated work, but it took hours.

  The squad set off at dawn. They walked, leading the camels by their bridles. Einen was at the forefront. Using a long cleaver, he cut a road through the jungle.