The Birth

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The Birth Page 20

by Paul Kite


  “Uhhh... seventeen days left,” the neighbor answered and then continued howling, and so sadly at that. - “Uhhh... twenty-three days have passed.”

  “How long?! Oh my God! Why?” At first, I thought I’d heard the wrong number of days. “And who are you, my strange neighbor, a player or an NPC?” Suddenly, my curiosity was aroused.

  Oh, damn the darkness, I couldn’t see him! And the game system, unfortunately, was not going to help me with the answer to this question. It was possible that he was an NPC.

  “What have you done?” I asked.

  There was a silence, a rustle and a sad howl, mixed with sobbing, in response. He is behaving like a child!

  “Hey! Don’t be silent, tell me what’s happened!” I said gently and soothingly, getting up from the bed and approaching the edge of the cage.

  “Get me out of here, please !!!” A short body in rags suddenly jumped up and clutched at the bars. “I can’t withstand it anymore!” He tried to shake the bars, as if hoping that they were about to give up and break. “Every day, I sit in a capsule for four hours,” my neighbor hoarsely whispered, sliding powerlessly to the floor. “You have no idea how much this has annoyed me.”

  Oh, he’s a player! It’s strange that the system is keeping silent. Seventeen days, every day for four hours in a cage. He could’ve gone crazy.

  “I broke into the residence of one important dark elf count and took everything that was possible to take,” the player began to tell me his story. “But the guards caught me when I was about to go to the guild of thieves to share my booty. It turns out that an NPC had managed to see me. It was good they took only what was with me at that time. Different rubbish. They left me only the clothes I am wearing now. I managed to leave all the very expensive items and the quest thing in my private room,” he bragged to me like a child. “The count, whom I’d robbed, spoke to me personally when they took me, and he promised me so much pain...” The player stopped for a moment, as if giving me the opportunity to imagine all the possible punishments with which he could be threatened by the highly placed drow. “Do you know what awaits me after the imprisonment finishes?” He continued after a dramatic pause. “I will be sent to the mines, forever! That’s insane and much worse than here. I definitely won’t get out of the mines. Eh, I’ll probably delete this account,” the thief summed up in frustration. “I’ll probably have to start all over again. I’ve wasted so much time on pumping it! It's a friggin shame.”

  “Awesome! You did great work!” I praised him quite sincerely, surprised and admiring his skills.

  How well has his specialty been leveled, that he’d managed to hack the vault in the residence of the count? There, the defense wasn’t worse than in the treasury of the game’s clans.

  “Uh, no, friend,” I said slyly. “Do not rush the deletion, think about it. It’s impossible that there is absolutely no way out. I have an idea!”

  And why not help this guy? He’s as stubborn as me and stuck in the game... Well, in prison. It doesn’t matter... The main thing that struck me as odd was the fact that, according to his speech and behavior I think he’s got to be a kid! The only thing that I still wanted to know very much is how a juvenile has become a thief, despite the prohibitions and rules of the game? And how had he gotten such a long term in prison and a further exile to hard labor, but not a temporary ban and complaint to his parents on behalf of the administration? An error? Remembering all the recent oddities, occurring in the world of Noria, it was quite possible. It is unlikely that he has a cracked capsule, as in my case. Knowing the technical capabilities of ‘Life’ Corporation, I doubted that very much.

  I hoped Dazrael won’t refuse a small request, if he’s able to get out of the cage, I thought.

  “What's your name?” I asked my neighbor.

  “Henry,” the stranger replied.

  “In game, not in real life!” I had no doubt that he was a child.

  “Oh,” the embarrassment was evident in his voice. “I'm Vanrag! Please, don't tell anyone my real name, okay?” he asked me.

  “Of course,” I agreed. “I'm Kraven. Believe me, we'll be out of here soon. Just don't leave the game. Or if you really need to go into the real world, leave the character asleep, okay?”

  “Yeah, Kray, I got it.” He had already shortened my name, I hoped the elf wouldn't hear him saying it. “Please don't leave me here, okay?” my neighbor begged me again.

  “I'm not going to leave you!” I answered and added very quietly, barely audible, “I hope you’ll also help me someday.”

  “No problem, my friend!” the young thief heard me, showing his excellent hearing. “But I'm a lousy fighter. If you need to crack a safe or steal something, then you come to me!” Vanrag boasted. “Well, maybe I can't open the Royal Treasury,” the guy thoughtfully added. “I have to learn a lot to be able to do that. Although, I wouldn’t say no to trying, maybe I'd be successful.”

  Wow! I was slightly surprised at his words. Is he kidding me about the vault at the Royal castle? What about a clan vault? However, I didn’t ask him those questions, everything in its time.

  Time would show me what his words were worth. Maybe if the elf agreed to help him, our paths after his escape from prison would diverge, and after a while, a young thief named Vanrag would forget a stupid and naive man named Kraven, after saying one simple word of thanks.

  Chapter 14

  I chatted with Vanrag for a while longer but he soon left the game saying he had some chores, I was left alone with my thoughts yet again.

  Time passed so freekin slowly. I didn’t want to sleep and was bored waiting for something unknown, staring into the darkness. It lasted half an hour or an hour, I didn't know...

  Top-top, quiet footsteps and the sound of a handcart rolling on the stone floor came from somewhere in the distance. I remembered the guard saying something about food. I hoped it was a food delivery guy, so that I could at least have a bite to eat, otherwise I would be facing a famine debuff. A couple of minutes later, the man with the cart came up to my cage and a plate of food slipped under the bars through a special hole. I heard a few steps, the rattling of the plates on the floor of the next cell and the steps began to move away, toward the stairs to the next level.

  Swearing was heard from the mouth of the peddler, curses were thrown at those who’d appointed a good man to this stupid post in punishment for a small and accidental mistake. As I understood it, he had to not only deliver food to prisoners, but also carry a heavy cart up and down the stairs. The prison clearly had more than three levels.

  I cautiously tasted the soup from my plate, expecting a disgusting taste or something like that. But the food was actually pretty good. It was amazing. I quickly emptied the plate and slipped it back behind the cage, deciding not to create unnecessary inconvenience for the person who’d been assigned this unpleasant role.

  It was strange, but the man didn’t return in ten minutes or even in an hour. Maybe there was a second exit, but that seemed impractical for a prison. One way out solved all kinds of problems in case of escape or a rebellion by the prisoners. The guards could simply block the only exit.

  Another hour passed, but the peddler didn’t appear. Where could he have gone?

  Suddenly, the door opened without a single creak, startling me so badly that I involuntarily twitched, and there was the familiar elf's voice calling out to me.

  Now I understood what had happened to the man and why he hadn't come back. But how had the elf gotten out?! How?! It was impossible!

  “Dazrael!” I joyfully exclaimed, and almost ran up to hug the light elf, but stopped myself in time, since it was unlikely that he would accept my feelings.

  “Shh!” the elf put his index finger to the mouth, calling for silence.

  “Got it, got it,” I nodded.

  I was really glad to see him. He’d kept his promise and was trying to get me out of the prison! Of course, he worked for the Guild of Shadows, which I didn’t trust much and on t
op of that, he was very close to Master Zorkhan, his teacher. But he was the only person... I mean elf, that I could rely on. Though he followed Zorkhan's orders, his assistance to me was invaluable so far.

  “How did you open the door?” I asked in a whisper, coming out of the cell.

  A large set of keys was swaying in front of my eyes, the ones that locked all the cells in the prison, or duplicates of them. Who knew how many keys the guards actually had.

  “You haven't wasted your time,” I said admiringly. “And can we open the next cell too?” I asked the elf hopefully—after all, the promise I’d made to Vanrag had to be fulfilled, and to leave this guy here was against my rules.

  With a shrug, the elf immediately handed me the whole bundle and, carefully placing the bag (which I noticed only now) on the floor, added, “Just don’t make noise. I have no idea why you need that thief.” How has he found that out? “Come on, quickly,” Dazrael added, when I had already moved to the next cell and was looking for a lock by touch. “Of course, I’ve done everything quietly, but you never know. You can drag him yourself, I don’t want to be a porter.”

  It didn’t take long to select the right key for the lock. I was lucky—the fifth key I tried turned in the keyhole and... opened it. Quickly picking up the body dressed in rags, and throwing it on my shoulder—Vanrag was pretty light—I approached the elf.

  “Where do we go?” I asked the question that was quite appropriate at the moment, returning the bunch of keys to the Master of Shadows.

  “Drink this first,” Dazrael handed me a vial of colorless liquid and, waiting for me to down it, pointed to the bag, “I won’t carry your weapon. Are you feeling it yet? The potion should act immediately.”

  Oh yes, the twilight had stepped aside, and gray, colorless shades filled the world. Well, this vision is better than absolutely nothing, since you could ruin your eyes in this darkness, trying to see anything. The main thing is that now I can see the elf more or less normally, including his face, and up to a distance of about 30 paces, everything has become quite visible

  “It works,” I told the elf.

  “Then why are we standing here? Throw it to the floor and come on, come on, faster!” The elf hurried me, hinting at the things in the bag.

  The swords were there, the bag and the belt too. I put the body back on my shoulder. I am ready!

  Dazrael looked at me carefully, checking whether I had forgotten anything, then turned and... went down to the lower level. I had expected him to go to the exit and not completely in the opposite direction. It was strange, but he knew better where we had to go, after all.

  Yes, the Master of the Shadows is the master of all that concerns quiet and imperceptible murders! I envy how gently and accurately he moves, without making a single sound or rustling anything in passing. In my training, the relevant skills had simply been ignored. Therefore, I just tried to imitate the elf, not really succeeding.

  “Who's there?” I asked when we went down to the third level and were approaching another descent (I had been sure that there were hardly even three levels here). A loud voice came from one of the cells.

  Dazrael looked at me very angrily and clearly displeased. Yeah, I don’t know how to move quietly and an unknown prisoner’s heard the sounds made by my walking. But I am honestly trying!

  The elf took one of the daggers and slid over to the bars.

  “Quiet!” The master of shadows said to the stranger. “Don’t make a noise!”

  “What? Have you escaped? But how?” The prisoner was surprised.

  “Come closer,” the elf asked.

  “Why?” The stranger was not a fool, of course, and he was reasonably afraid of the strange and suspicious fugitive.

  “I'll give you the keys, I'm in a hurry, so deal with the lock yourself.”

  “Throw them into the cell.”

  I clearly noticed how the elf gritted his teeth.

  “Okay, you asked for it.” A short wave of the hand and the dagger pierced the prisoner’s eye, who then fell to the floor.

  “Was that necessary?” I asked quietly.

  “Yes!” The elf said angrily. “Don’t ask silly questions.”

  We passed the fourth level without interference. There was another ladder ahead, I hoped that was the last one.

  Dazrael closed his eyes, and said—or rather sang—a phrase in a strange language that I had never heard before. Then he smiled when he saw that a part of the wall had shimmered in a wavy ripple, took out a dagger, cut his open palm and put it against one of the stones. The wall absorbed the blood, and after a moment, the blocks spread apart, revealing a new, long, narrow corridor, which led down. When we entered the new passage, I turned and saw only the blank wall. Everything had returned to its original place.

  That was awesome! What just happened? Okay, the questions need to be saved for later.

  We continued walking in complete silence. The corridor kept going down, but then I felt it level out, turning into a horizontal surface, and after a while, it began to divide into several forks. The elf, without thinking, picked one of them, and I meekly followed him.

  We wandered for a while, but Dazrael unexpectedly stopped in front of a completely unremarkable spot on one of the walls, and again, there was that phrase in the unknown language and the bloody palm being pressed to one of the stones. The blocks moved apart, and we came into a small, but too bright room. The light blinded me and I closed my eyes, retreating back and bumping against the blank wall. The elf put a bottle in my hand.

  “Drink this, it will help,” he explained.

  I gladly did. After blinking a few times and making sure that the light wasn’t so bright anymore, I looked around.

  It was quite a normal warehouse, but it was very well-lit with something like crystal balls in special holders, which were attached to the ceiling. I saw boxes stacked on top of each other, piled up bags and other stuff which was usually present in these kinds of rooms and was normally scattered anywhere. A wide, wooden staircase, leading to a square hatch on the ceiling, was in the center of the room.

  “How long are you going to carry him around? He's already woken up,” the elf smiled.

  “Yes,” the thief's confused voice rang out behind my ear, I was still holding him on my shoulder. “I didn't want to bother you, and I couldn't see where we were walking.”

  I put Vanrag on the ground. What a cunning guy! He’d gotten back in the game on time. However, I didn't know which part of the world he was from, maybe it was now daytime there.

  “Thank you Kraven,” the thief said; well, at least he hadn’t shortened my name this time. “I owe you! You really got me out of there! Only, it happened spontaneously and quickly. Well, no, I'm not complaining!” he put his hands in front of him, as if defending himself. “I am honestly very grateful to you!”

  “Not at all,” I shrugged my shoulders, remaining silent about the fact that he ought to thank the elf. My words would’ve only been empty ones without Dazrael's help. How had he gotten out? I didn't think the peddler had been carrying a bunch of keys he didn't really need. Most likely, the elf had gone to the guards’ room, and then come back.

  “Is he going with us?” the elf asked neutrally, approaching the stairs.

  “Of course!” I answered for the young thief. “I'm not going to leave him here. But Vanrag, do you know what kind of punishment is waiting for you after this escape? You'll be wanted all over the Dark Forest.”

  “I know,” the thief responded and happily smiled. “Let them try to find me! I'm going to complete the mission and leave the drow territory. I can escape to the Kingdom of Nazhar. There's a lot of work there for people like me!”

  He was an amazing, risk taking teenager. If I were him, I would’ve immediately left The Dark Forest. But he was going to finish what he'd started, even with the chance of going back to prison. However, it was his life, I’d helped him the best I could.

  “Wait for me here,” the elf interrupted, as I was ta
lking to Vanrag and giving him advice. “I'll be back soon. Try not to make any noise!”

  He went up the stairs leading to the hatch in the ceiling, listened to something, opened it, then quickly slipped out and closed the hatch behind himself.

  Dropping one of the bags onto the floor, I sat down on it in a relaxed manner.

  “Vanrag,” I called the thief, who was poking around in the trash, and patted the bag, offering him a place to sit beside me. I changed my mind about giving him advice. I thought he wouldn’t listen to me.

  “Yes?” he sat down.

  “While we have the time, tell me, who did you rob, if it's not a secret?” I asked. It was better to talk a little than to sit in complete silence.

  Over more than two hours, Vanrag told me his story and described everything, from infiltrating the residence to the moment he was caught by the guards. Of course, I’m sure he hid or embellished some facts, but that didn't change the overall effect.

  It was interesting and, most importantly, made it perfectly clear that the thief wouldn't mind hearing my story, including the history of my acquaintance with that ‘cool’ (it was his word, not mine) elf. But, of course, he didn't need to know that!

  “Stop sitting around, get over here!” The hatch was opened and we were called by the irritated Dazrael.

  We climbed up the stairs and were stunned. More precisely, I was stunned! It was night already, time in prison sure flew by very quickly and...

  “No, no, no! Not again! I don't want to!” I vehemently opposed what I was seeing.

  The hatch led into a barn, where a pair of horses, harnessed to a long, open cart with high sides stood at the open gate, and the indescribable smell of waste was everywhere.

  Wasn't there a better way to get out of town? Was it a favorite method of all the smugglers in all the cities of Noria? Okay, maybe not in all the cities, but it was happening for the second time in my adventurous life.

  “M-m-m?” I mumbled, turning to the elf, having absolutely no idea what to say to describe this situation.

  “Yes, yes!” The master of Shadows said sarcastically. “How do you think to get out of the city? Through one of the teleports? I don’t think so, come on, what are you standing around for? I wouldn’t advise doing that. I’m sure that the guards are already aware of our escape, and all the city entrances and exits are blocked. Move it! You will sit there,” he pointed to the wagon, loaded with waste, “and pray that the guards near the city gates don’t think to poke there with a spear or a sword. If they do check it, well, you can accept my sincere condolences and my wish for you to not die from the wounds.”

 

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