I looked at him. Shorve put his finger to his lips and nodded in the direction of the fog.
I took a wary look over the boulder. Oh. He was right. The white haze was thinning out.
“Sir Olgerd! Mr. Ivanenko! How are you?”
I wearily rolled my eyes. Not that voice again. Just when I thought I’d finally gotten rid of him.
I stood up. “I’m fine, Tanor, thank you, how are you?”
“I’d like to talk to you, Sir Olgerd. Could you tell your cutthroats to hold their fire, please?”
“Depends what you’ve come here with,” I shouted back, never forgetting for one moment the guy was the Steel Shirts’ scout.
I turned to Droy. “If you smell a rat, just shoot.”
He flashed me a bloodthirsty grin.
I vaulted over the boulder and stood at the foot of the cliff. All my little arsenal was ready: the Fix Box fully charged, the summoning charms ready for activation, the little mirror snuggled in my left hand.
A wave of quiet cheers ran over the Caltean ranks as I activated all the buffs.
In the meantime, the fog had retreated, revealing the slim Alven figure of my arch enemy.
As I walked closer, I managed to work out the fog’s nature. The Shroud of Death, how appropriate. Definitely a Necro spell. Which was excellent, considering my friendly footing with that particular class.
Tanor hadn’t changed one bit. Still the same squeaky-clean self, delicate and sophisticated. His face did bear the signs of fatigue, though. No wonder: trekking across No-Man’s Lands was a bit different from prancing around in the Citadel.
He flashed me a pearly smile. “You’ve changed a lot.”
“You haven’t,” I replied, stopping a few feet away from him. “I’m listening. The sooner we get this over with, the better. We have too many things to do.”
Tanor cast a quick glance behind my back. “Of course. You’re the leader of a whole nation now, aren’t you?”
He sounded dead serious. How weird. Was it my imagination or was he sucking up to me?
I ignored his question. “Do I understand correctly you’re here to deliver more threats and ultimatums? I’m afraid, you’ll be wasting your time.”
He waved his hands at me. “Not at all! Why would I do something like that?”
I chuckled. “Why wouldn’t you? It wouldn’t be the first time.”
He shrugged. “You made the right decision leaving Ennan City. Still, why did you do it?”
He seemed to be avoiding the subject. Had he come here with the proverbial carrot?
“What do you mean, why?” I said. “I’m not mad, you know, having to battle two allied armies and the Noctean horde to boot. My warriors’ lives are too important to me.”
“Of course,” he said with a knowing smile. “That’s why you refused to sacrifice your NPCs in order to activate the obelisk. We couldn’t work out why you did it. Our analysts’ conclusion was that you’d simply failed to locate the obelisk, so you just left.”
“Are you surprised?”
“Oh no, not at all. You decided to keep the clan instead. This strategy has a much bigger potential in the long run.”
He didn’t understand, did he? Never mind. It was better that way. Let him think whatever he wanted. His underestimation of me worked to my advantage.
“So the city is yours now?” I asked.
His face darkened. “Yeah, sort of. Today at least. Tomorrow, I don’t know. We’ll see.”
“Why haven’t you activated the obelisk, then?”
“Let’s put it this way: we won’t be gaining a lot from it.”
Whatever that was supposed to mean. “Aha. I see.”
“Now, about the matter at hand. Sir Olgerd, I have the power to offer you a peace treaty. An alliance, if you wish.”
So that’s what it was, then. I’d thought it would come to this.
Of course: they didn’t have enough resources to come after me, did they? They had them all tied up in their little scramble for Twilight Castle. While in the meantime, I could afford to level up my own resources at leisure.
So you want to have your cake and eat it, Sir Tanor? Very well.
I smiled to him. “Sounds good. A peace treaty to begin with, and then we’ll see. Wasn’t it Cicero who said that a bad peace is better than a good war? Are you happy with my reply?”
He beamed. “Absolutely! More than happy,” he heaved a sigh of relief.
* * *
“Congratulations, my friend,” I lay my hand on Droy’s shoulders.
He stood listlessly in front of a large log house. A tear rolled down his cheek.
It looked like my Droy the Fang used to be an important landowner in this part of the world. Before the Nocteans had come, that is. The house was a beauty. The barns. The outhouses. A large cattle yard. Everything still in good shape, virtually untouched.
“Thank you, my friend,” Droy looked up at me with his open, grateful gaze. “That night, the skies took my best friends but in their mercy they sent you instead! You gave me my old house back! And not just mine! You gave us our homes back!”
He showed me his farm and his household, telling me how he planned to improve them. He and I, we had so much in common. He was just a man like myself, someone who loved his home and his family.
Boris soared on the air currents, enjoying his flight over the valley. What a beautiful place. Silver Mountains! Like a towering rocky stockade, they shielded the valley from the northern winds. A giant lake glistened below amid the lush green of endless gardens and groves.
“So what do you think, kiddo? Do you like the Calteans’ home? Do you think Sveta and Christa might like it here too?”
Sensing my mood, Boris opened his powerful beak and shattered the skies with his triumphant aquiline cry.
We landed on top of the hill. I threw my arms around Boris’ muscular neck, then activated the summoning charm.
I gave one last studying look at the valley below. Lots of work to do. Not now, though. Later.
I focused on the Log Out button. You can’t imagine how happy I was to press it.
A Short Epilogue
DARKNESS. Boundless and intangible. Infinite.
It feels scary and comforting at the same time. Nameless it is, limitless and unending, holding the whole world within its embrace.
It has no face nor soul. Still, it’s not empty. Because I’m there.
I don’t yet know who I am. I can neither sense nor see myself. I don’t feel anything. Still, I can think... therefore I am.
Wait a sec. I know that expression. It’s been around for centuries.
Centuries? Does that mean there’s more to the world than this darkness?
Of course. Now I remember. It’s time.
My thoughts begin forming a chain, gradually bringing more memories out of my subconscious.
Obediently darkness succumbs to them and steps back.
My awakening hurt. The dull throbbing in my temples echoed down my neck and shoulders in sharp, piercing pulses. Impaled on thousands of little icy spikes, my frozen, numb body refused to come out of its hibernation.
The cumbersome leaden quilt of mental fog lay heavy on my weak awakening mind. Like a young blade of grass reaching for the sun, my brain strained its every cell trying to resurface from the darkness enveloping my subconscious.
Finally it shot out, its fiery flower blossoming within my mind and filling my body with joyful life.
Slowly I tried to part my eyelids. A thick cloudy film prevented me from seeing clearly. I blinked a few times but the obstacle wouldn’t go.
Mechanically I raised my right hand to wipe my eyes. My fingers hit something. Their numb nerves refused to send signals to the brain, thus not allowing me to identify the obstacle.
After several fruitless attempts to remove the annoying item, my arm felt unbearably heavy. I summoned up all my strength and tried to hoist myself onto one elbow. A dull pain spread over my limp body. It didn’t work.
I needed some rest. A heavy feverish slumber came over me.
I awoke from a bright warm light seeping through my shut eyelids. My ears felt blocked.
Without opening my eyes, I tried to move my fingers and toes.
They seemed to be okay.
The unpleasant throbbing pain was gone. Sensitivity had returned to my fingers.
I could hear voices coming through the rubbery silence. The familiar beeping of a life support machine. A door opened, then closed, letting in the sound of approaching footsteps.
This felt like a hospital bed. No wonder. How long had I spent in the capsule, several months?
Why was it so cold? Did they keep me in the fridge?
Something warm, soft and gentle lay on my cheek. It felt good. My unyielding lips began to stretch into a smile.
My eyelids parted. Through the cloudy haze in front of my eyes I made out the vague, blurred outline of a human face.
The soft, warm touch moved to my other cheek.
It was a hand. A very small one.
Then I heard a voice. So dear it was, so familiar and so warm.
“Daddy? Are you back now?”
End of Book Four
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In 2010 he wrote his first fantasy novel which was immediately accepted by one of Russia’s leading publishing houses Alpha Book.
He also used to be a passionate online gamer which prompted him to write the story of a man who joins an MMORPG game hoping to raise money for his daughter’s heart surgery. In 2013, the first book of Mirror World was published by EKSMO, Russia’s largest publishing house. The original Russian series now counts four novels.
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The Twilight Obelisk (Mirror World Book #4) LitRPG series Page 27