Viktor saw Selene watching him from the corner of her eye. The girl withdrew from that eye contact when she realized she had been noticed, then she let out a smile. The friend understood that from that moment she would still play her part as an angry girl so he wouldn’t think she gave up and he too smiled.
The boy smiled and turned his gaze to the competition as Trust took his place at the centre of the stage.
The mithril rod lit up when it was raised with both hands towards the sun. The bright reflections exalted every refinishing and detail, exposing to the light all the long experience that the blacksmith had concentrated on his work. The filaments of his creation started from the centre and embraced each other along the main axis, ending towards the pointed end. Trust tightened his grip on his masterpiece and twirled it toward the judges, and they examined it with care and for several moments.
When they were satisfied with their observations, Trust took the rod and returned to his place, giving way to the penultimate competitor to show his work. The blacksmith laughed when the woman explained that it was a poem, because it made him think of the lie he had told the sentries on guard at the entrance to Beleth.
Selene noticed the laughter under Trust’s moustache and she too joined him, while Viktor wondered what they could find so funny at that moment.
The young poetess adjusted her copper-coloured hair, throwing it behind her back. Her long hair shone under the sunlight, accentuating the clean features of her face.
The woman began, her voice as soft and light as the touch of a butterfly.
“Light your breath that my heart remembers,
when your thin hand touched my face.
And crossed in a casual way my gaze,
hoping someone stopped the horde with prayers.
It continued undeterred, bringing death and destruction
and your thin hand first without deprivation,
was preparing to touch a land neglected and uncultivated,
while before my face you watched.
Your eyes will never meet mine again
nor will mine yours detain.
The war has finally come here too, taking life away
from those who could touch their child with their fingers and pray.
Love, joy, happiness and prosperity leave their post
to crying, pain, anguish and desperation,
taking everything away at a high cost,
where now there is only misery and emotion.
As placid as water, I now feel the touch of death,
and a smile caresses the face of my fate at length.
Your eyes will never meet mine again
nor will mine yours detain.”
Some in the first row had tears in their eyes.
In those verses, the sadness of the war was told through the last memories of a mother who, on the verge of dying, was remembering her own little child reaching out to her.
Selene could not hold back her tears, though she had tried not to cry for the duration of the opera. The interpretation of the poetess had been excellent and this could influence the outcome of the final verdict; anxiety grew when the last competitor stepped forward.
He was a shady figure, covered by a black cloak.
When he moved to the centre of the stage, he burst into loud laughter, under everyone’s incredulous eyes. The jury, annoyed by that behaviour, asked for explanations, but the only sentence that the individual pronounced was: “Time has come.”
In the general dismay, the man disappeared in the crowd, which remained silent for a long time, before the presenter tried to divert the audience from that unusual inconvenience: “Well, ladies and gentlemen: apparently the competition is over. The judges are discussing the winner and in a few moments they will communicate who it is and one way or the other, they have all been able to show a lot through their creations, sculptures, poetic expressions, and funny….dances. I think they all deserve an applause.”
A loud applause echoed throughout Beleth, then the presenter continued.
“And now, it’s time!” exclaimed the announcer clumsily.
Everyone was silent.
“It happens rarely but, although different types and arts, we have two winners! They win, with the same evaluation: Trust, the blacksmith, and Kheira, the poetess!”
A roar shook the entire square.
“Incredible!” Viktor shouted, patting the blacksmith on his shoulder that had immediately come to his side.
“Well done, Trust!” Selene congratulated him.
“When I listened to that poem I really feared that we would return home empty-handed!” confessed the smith while, above the noise and the confusion of the area, the short presenter announced that the award ceremony would take place that same evening, after dinner.
Trust looked around. “Where is she?”
“Who are you looking for?” Viktor asked with the same curious expression as Selene.
I wanted to congratulate the poetess, she was fantastic, what was her name ... Kheira, I think ...”
“I think he called her that way, well, you’ll see her tonight at the awards ceremony, right?” answered Selene.
“Yes, you’re right, now I really need to rest!” the blacksmith exclaimed as he walked with the two of them to the inn, away from the crowd that had resumed the animated and loud tones that had preceded the competition of the Great Talents.
CHOSEN BY FATE
“H
e was certainly raving.”
This was the idea that Viktor had of that strange character who had appeared at the Great Talents without presenting anything.
“Time has come,” brooded the boy to himself, looking at the ceiling supported by huge wooden poles. “The world is full of madmen,” he concluded.
“What are you thinking about?” asked Selene, lying on one of the four beds in the room.
“Nothing in particular,” he replied in a low voice to avoid waking Trust, sound asleep on the bed opposite them.
Selene didn’t insist on it, and they both reached Trust in the realm of dreams. The smith woke the boys after sleeping for a couple of hours and urged them to get ready as soon as evening came.
“We have a prize collect, let’s have dinner and go!” he exclaimed.
Viktor was more tired than the others were, he hadn’t slept well and hadn’t had a good day: although the bath he took before falling asleep was relaxing, it hadn’t cured the pain in his legs and arms. He could hardly stand upright but he walked out of the room with Selene and the blacksmith, heading for the first floor, brightly lit and full of people.
The confusion of the afternoon was gone and the few people gathered in front of the counter were busy talking and betting on how long it would take them to drain the pints overflowing with beer.
The three took their seats at the table and were served shortly thereafter. Everyone was satisfied with the meal of meat and cheese and, once they finished, they started towards the square.
The lights in the houses of Beleth were on and their projection on the windows reflected the warm colours of the torches on the main street of the city. The orange, yellow, and red hues hit the stones of the street: a bright carpet that led to where the light came from. Viktor and Selene were once again fascinated by the city, and didn’t stop observing the life around them.
People strolled through the streets and alleys, intent on chatting or observing the windows of the shops that were still open for that special occasion of the year.
The group came back to the foot of the stage, where the jury and the presenter of the contest were waiting.
When there were enough people to fill the entire square, Trust and the poet were invited to come on stage.
The applause invaded the square when both winners stood in front of the jury that held up and handed them a bag each with a big reward in cash and a flame-shaped gold trophy, the symbol of Beleth. The names of the winners shone on it.
While Trust congratulated the poetess
, Viktor felt a cold shiver run down his back, startled he turned his head to the right and left.
“What’s up?” asked Selene, trying to speak louder than the applause that echoed ever louder.
At that moment, the boy was seized by a second shiver that shook him, then he turned his gaze to the sky.
Grey clouds thickened above Beleth, gradually covering the breath-taking scenery of the moon and the stars that dotted the roof of the world.
Some raindrops hit the boy right on his face, then he bent his head and saw Selene grasp his arm to encourage him to return to the inn.
It began raining very hard, while the people were slowly dispersing. Under its raging, there was a loud roar coming from somewhere in the city.
Trust returned to the others and the three, while trying to return to their room, heard a second roar much more intense than the first and noticed a part of the city walls fall over a house. The ruins broke down on the road with a dull blow and raised a wave of dust and earth that hit people that were in a panic.
The screams took over and, while Belethians and tourists went in every direction like insects, a flash anticipated three more explosions that destroyed a complex of houses in the large square full of frightened people.
“Let’s get out through the gap in the wall and head to the wagon! Let’s get out of here!” Trust shouted as Selene and Viktor held hands and followed him, moving swiftly among the confusing people.
Viktor didn’t know where the explosions were coming from when, looking up at the sky, he saw dozens of red lightning swoop towards the city, creating passages through the grey and purple clouds.
“It’s magic, it cannot be anything different,” he deduced, barely avoiding an incandescent dart that crashed into a stone not far from him.
The shock wave made him let go of Selene’s hand and pushed him through the crazed crowd, making him lose track of his companions; however, he knew where they were going and he only had to reach the wagon. He started to get up off the ground, but a soldier, who was trying to restore order, landed against the young man.
The soldier drew his sword from its scabbard when he saw an eyeless beast as big as a horse, with long claws and sharp teeth. The black fur shone in dark purple when it was hit by the light of the incandescent darts that crashed on Beleth.
The two holes above its mouth dilated several times. The being began to move slowly towards the man trembling and dripping with perspiration.
A few moments before he was close enough, the soldier threw himself at him, attempting a vertical blow. The blade stuck in the middle of the monster’s skull, which shook his head furiously upward and threw the unfortunate man into the air and he landed on the ground stone-cold dead.
Viktor was stunned, but just as the beast began to move toward him he saw it stagger several times and then stop: however strong it might be, it wouldn’t have been able to live long with a blade stuck in its brain.
The boy stopped to breath and ran towards the monster, pulling the dead soldier’s weapon out with both hands, staring at him again before running towards the ruined walls of Beleth.
He didn’t know how to use the sword very well: the few times he had crossed swords had only been with Trust, in his spare time.
As he ran to the gates of the city, he decided to hide in the alleys, avoiding exposing himself on the main road.
He ignored the pain in his legs and hoped to reach the cart as soon as possible.
The alleys were illuminated by the light of the arrows that were suppressing every corner of Beleth, helping the boy to orient himself towards the walls. After the umpteenth explosion, a house on the street collapsed on itself.
A figure fell on the young boy, coming out of the cloud of smoke and ashes, without giving him time to react. The hooded silhouette gripped his fingers tightly around the boy’s neck, who began to kick and become cyanotic.
His assailant repeated a phrase that sounded familiar to Viktor: “Time has come.”
The boy managed to wriggle out of his grip, striking him with a strong blow with the hilt of the steel sword that he held in his hands.
He stood up quickly, taking a guarded position, while the assaulter was launching toward him again. The hood fell behind his back and showed the upper base of a featureless head.
Although frightened by the horrifying show of the skeleton-man, the boy rushed toward his enemy, pointing the blade straight into his stomach. The man stared wide-eyed at Viktor’s face a span away from his, as he continued to support his body with the sword that had pierced him.
Suddenly, the body began to sizzle, reducing itself to dust and then it blazed into a blue fire.
As soon as the young man realized what had happened, a windowpane above him exploded when a bolt of fire passed through it.
Viktor began to flee to the exit of the city, sheltering his head with his arms from the glass fragments that were pointing towards the ground.
He ran for what seemed to him hours, then returned to the main street, where he saw more creatures coming out from under the ground, identical to the one that had killed the young guard, destroying the street below him. He hid in an alley and watched the monsters rip off the soldiers who tried to stop them. People began to scream louder and cry with fear, hiding or trying to escape wherever there was shelter.
The boy thought to get around the beasts climbing through the gap in the wall using the debris of the destroyed house, but it was too risky and so he decided to wait a little longer.
Meanwhile, the soldiers had been decimated and the few remaining were now terrified and out of control; on the other side, instead, the boy saw a group of lightning bolts crashing in the middle of the square. Many screams died out.
Viktor decided to reach the gap, hoping that none of the monsters would notice him: he slipped out of the alley and began to run in the opposite direction of the crowd.
A short distance from the gash in the wall, one of the beasts saw him and began to chase him.
Viktor leaped over some broken wooden crates at the back of the inn, abandoning the main road again.
He hoped to gain some time thanks to his agility, preventing the monster from chasing him in the narrow alleys.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no one and increased his speed, now close to the goal.
With a few leaps, he reached the top of the rubble of the destroyed house, and jumped through the hole in the wall.
A step away from crossing the walls, one of the beasts that he believed he had overrun intercepted him from the roof of the inn and dived against him, hitting him with his big head and sending him crashing to the foot of the walls. The blow had been so strong that it made his ribs ache.
The beast landed a few steps from him, and then it began to approach.
When Viktor lost hope, Trust’s mithril shaft flew against the beast, stabbing it in the side. Selene stood before the boy, while Trust was aiming at the wounded monster.
The creature left a trail of black blood in the air.
Viktor wanted to scream at his friends to escape, but he could barely breathe; he tried to make himself understood by waving a hand, even though the girl continued to ignore him.
Selene knelt by his side and laid her hands on his breast, beginning to recite incomprehensible words: a feeble light spread around the boy, who immediately felt the benefits of white magic.
When he felt better, he blocked Selene’s wrists and asked her to stop; she slipped to the side and supported the boy, who hugged her.
In the meantime, Trust had managed to get by diving under the monster’s paws and going around its side; he grabbed the mithril rod and pressed harder inward. The beast stirred several times before collapsing to the ground.
The blacksmith came limping to his two young friends, but he refused Selene’s help, given the tiredness of the girl who was not used to healing wounds of that entity.
“Thank you,” Viktor whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek.
W
hen they were about to leave, the group heard a growl behind them: more beasts pointed at them.
In that exact moment, a tornado of cobalt light fell from the sky, stopping in front of the three in difficulty. The light diminished until it faded, then a man emerged.
The three beasts, who had stopped at that arrival, resumed racing against the targets, but the newcomer opened a large gap in the ground with a quick movement of his hand.
Trust, Viktor and Selene were forced to cover their ears with their hands because of the loud roar and the growls of the beasts that died out in the depths of the earth.
“The girl and the blacksmith must go through the gap in the wall and go back to Lezhen, Viktor stays with me,” the man ordered.
“How does he know your name? What does it mean you’ll stay here?” asked Selene in fear, looking at Viktor.
“If he wanted to hurt me, he wouldn’t have protected us.” Go, I’ll stay with him.” “I don’t know what he wants, but it seems safe.”
“I’m not leaving without you,” the girl insisted.
Trust put a hand on Selene’s shoulder. “He will not hurt him, we’ll wait for him at the wagon, at the entrance to the woods,” he reassured her.
The man smiled. “You’d better go, he’ll stay with me for a while, but you’ll see him again.”
“We what?” asked the girl with growing anxiety.
The individual approached Viktor and placed a hand on the back of his neck.
“It’s time to go,” he said, before taking the boy away with him through the cobalt whirlwind.
Viktor felt his feet come off the ground, while all around everything seemed blurred and indistinct: he only recognized the columns of smoke rising up to the sky from every corner of Beleth and the one who had dragged him away looking straight ahead.
When the two were able to rest their feet on a solid surface again, Viktor realized that he was on the roof of the church of Beleth and that another person was there waiting for him.
Viktor Page 7