by Alex Sapegin
Bowing low, Andy waved his hand and removed the guarding curtains. In one instant, the man was replaced by a dragon. A push with all four paws—and after a few minutes, the dragon looked smaller than a sparrow in the sky.
Her Majesty looked for a long time at the dot retreating into the sky, a dot so dear to her heart. The Empress’ face did not reflect a single emotion, but inside everything was boiling and freezing at the same time. She could feel her son’s hurt on a physical level. “I’m sorry, Kerr. Son, forgive me...”
That evening, Andy decided to spit on politics, on Orten, on dragons, and on other people’s opinions and move to his native valley. When he visited the monastery, he found complete understanding among half the village residents. The dwarfs Gmar and Glir were ready to run to the abandoned village on foot. Duke the tanner asked one question: “When?” It wasn’t worth mentioning the orcs and the Norsemen. Tyigu, forgetting about manners, clapped her hands. Surprisingly, when they learned about the planned resettlement, several families of Forest Elves came to Andy and a couple of dragons. Lilly begged her grandfather to let her go with Kerr. Nobody doubted that the girl would succeed. The little elf had mastered the art of twisting her relatives around her little finger. Seeing such a thing, the initiator of the return to his native home decided to put the date of the return off one week in order to take with him all those who desired seclusion in the mountains and to close the valley.
Then there was the slaughter of the innocents at Kion, in which he refused to take part. Prior to the resettlement, he had to attend several social events, but he never saw his mother, although the line of those wishing to kiss the prince’s hand was impressive. But he avoided unnecessary attention in every possible way, afraid of not being able to restrain himself and sending someone to Targ. Many powerful individuals in the dragons’ society once again turned their attention to the heir to the throne after the events that took place in the Great Wastelands...
On the third day after the battle at Kion, Ruigar flew to Andy with a most lofty request from the Empress asking him to take part in the planting of the Forest. In other words, his mother was asking him for help restoring the Great Forest—he had to plant this Forest—there were no other true bloods among the dragons who could plant the Mellornys besides himself.
The Empress had pinned the main political players of northern Alatar down. She also suppressed the spirits of the King of Tantre and the Ariate princes, who didn’t need problems with carefully fostered fanatics. She strongly pressured the High Prince, and as far as the remnants of Taiir, Mesaniya, and the dwarf kingdom—they’re not even worth mentioning. Jagirra secured for herself and the miur vast mountain areas on the Marble Mountains and the Northern and Southern Rocky Ridges, and claimed the whole of the Great Wastelands. According to the winged strategists’ plan, the Wastelands were to become the main buffer between the Light Forest, the Rauu, the Ariates, the dwarfs, and the remnants of the orcs and human kingdoms. They were planning to relocate half the elves and borderlands humans who had arrived from Nelita to the newly restored Great Forest.
Andy thought of refusing, but Ruigar smirked conspiratorially with his toothy jaws and advised him not to hurry with a refusal, for soon another visitor would come see His Highness... His Highness scratched his head, shrugged, and decided to wait for the promised guest and only then make the final decision. The adviser moved his wings satisfactorily, spun on the spot, and collapsed onto the sun-warmed earth, demonstrating with his whole self that he could not give a hoot about what was going on around him. Andy smiled snarkily.
“How’s it going?” he suddenly asked Ruigar.
“How’s what going?” the red dragon opened one eye lazily.
“With Lanirra, Ruigar, with Lanirra. Your grandfather gave you wise advice...”
It’s not every day you get to see a dumbfounded dragon face. The Lord of the Sky usually wore a blank expression, like a brick, but now everyone could see the full range of emotions on Ruigar’s face. Ania, to whom Andy had retold the overheard conversation right away, turned away and let a thin stream of smoke from her nostrils. The tips of the black dragon’s wings and her tail quivered in silent laughter. Having finished laughing, she laid her head on the ground beside her husband and languidly closed her eyes as he began scratching his wife’s eyebrows.[S35]
“H-h-how?” the adviser choked.
“I have my sources,” Andy said mysteriously, hiding a smile. Ania snorted. “I’ll be a fool if I tell you about them. I want to ask you—do you like Lanirra?”
“Mm, yes.” Ruigar jumped up, nervously crossed his paws and raised his wings over his back in embarrassment.
“Then say ‘I do,’” said Andy.
“What?” the red dragon didn’t understand.
“It means he wishes the two of you a high-flying nuptial flight,” Ania translated.
“You did me a favor. Thank you!” laughed Andy.
“You’re welcome,” Ruigar muttered, abruptly calming down, and fell to the ground. Andy stroked Ania on the nose, walked away a little, changed hypostasis and covered his wife with a wing. The dragoness shifted in place, leaning against her husband’s hot side and stroking the inner part of the wing that covered her with her paw. Now it was Andy’s turn to be overcome with pleasure and languidly close his eyes.
Contrary to their assumptions, they didn’t have to wait long for the mysterious guest to turn up. As soon as Andy started enjoying his wife’s caresses, a portal opened twenty yards from the dragons. The accuracy of the exit-point binding could be explained simply—Ruigar had brought a beacon with him. Tearing through the silver veil, miur came out and stepped onto the ground. First, dressed in a blue ritual sari, was Illusht. Behind the young Great Mother, her standard-bearers and guardsmen marched in parade armor. Three steps behind her, looking around cautiously, was a tall male big-brain[S36]. The male’s clothes and wide belt were the colors of the ruling house. The long ritual dagger with a lot of colored ribbons on the hilt didn’t leave any doubt that this was the life companion of the Great Mother. The miur stopped five yards from the dragons lying on the ground and simultaneously sank to their knees. Illusht spread out a white napkin, pulled the dagger out of its sheath and laid it in front of her. The blade was facing her; the black hilt pointed towards Andy. Changing hypostasis[S37], he went to the miur and took the dagger, in his hands. Ruigar and Ania jumped to their feet, bowed their heads down to the ground and opened their wings. The dragons realized what was about to happen.
“I give my life, honor, and soul,” Illusht said, pronouncing the ancient oath of loyalty which the vassals gave the overlord on Nelita.
Andy cut his right palm against the sharp blade of the dagger and touched the cat’s cheek with his blood-stained hand. Three bright red drops fell on the ritual sari. The solemnity of the moment was not violated even by the wind, which had been tearing up the crowns of the trees a few minutes ago.
“With my blood, I will defend you. I accept your life, soul, and honor, and I share mine with you,” he said, rubbing his blood on Illusht’s forehead.
“We are witnesses!” the dragons barked.
“We are witnesses!” the other miur repeated.
“Rise, Mother of the foothill people,” Andy ordered.
When Illusht got up from her knees, he went up to her, held the scabbard on her belt, and drove the dagger into it.
“The Empress freed us from all the ancient vows,” the miur said, preempting any questions. “We have been given freedom. The Empress said that from now on, we will choose our own path.”
And they chose, having sworn allegiance to the imperial house in the person of the heir to the throne, the person who brought them to a new planet.
“The Great Mother Asha knows.” Illusht again anticipated the question and touched her forehead with her hand. “We have a connection. The foothill people of Mount Lidar are no longer bound by the settlement oath.”
“Give Asha my congratulations and best wish
es,” Andy said. The miur froze for a few moments; her eyes glazed.
“Asha thanks you,” she said, coming out of the trance.
Andy turned to Ruigar, who made a face and raised his wings slightly over his back. The gesture could be regarded as an “I told you so.” In light of the new circumstances, it was somehow uncomfortable and somewhat insulting to refuse a small request such as the restoration of the Great Forest. They had cornered him, the wolves, cornered him from all sides.
* * *
“What did you bring them here for?”
Andy looked at the even rows of prisoners. Even in captivity, the Forest “wolves” managed to exude such arrogance, contempt, and hatred for the elves of Nelita, humans, and dragons that surrounded them, that he wanted to come up and slash the half-bloods’ muzzles. If it weren’t for the understanding that these evil Elven geniuses were brought up from their diapers with disdain and hatred for anything not belonging to the Forest, then His Highness’ sensitive ego would require immediate satisfaction.
Several thousand “wolves” and Forest Elves from the defeated forces at Orten were driven to the Wastelands to witness a demonstration of the dragons’ power. Jagirra did not intend to fight the Lords of the Forest. She decided on a simpler course of action: to show them that not only the great strength was on the side of the new empire, but also other elves who received from the Empress’ paws what the uptight woodies never even dreamed of. Truly, one hundred percent. The prisoners, behind the miur-escorts, looked with astonishment at their fellow tribesmen who were peacefully conversing with dragons and at the huge tub with a young Mellorny.
The wolves and woodies had been explained in laymen’s terms that they were about to witness a historic event—the planting of the first Mellorny of the future Great Forest, which would go to the dragons’ allies. The rows of prisoners digesting the news bustled with the constant sound of loud cries, shocked whisperings and cut-off sentences. The wolves reacted to the message indifferently, but the pure-blood elves were earnestly upset. The clever pointy-ears instantly realized that this was a delayed-action mine, laid by the stinking dragons that would go off on the Light Forest. For many elven nobles and officers, it was no secret that the bulk of the Mellornys in their forests were old and did not bear fruit because of the curse imposed by the enemies three thousand years ago. It would take two or three hundred years, and the trees would start to die. The elves, bound by magic to the trees of life, would be left with a broken trough if they don’t find some way of salvation. Most likely they wouldn’t find it, and then they would have to bow to the dragons… or die.
Ruigar told Andy the situation, explaining that it would be useful for the local long-ears [S38]to attend. Maybe they’d get a good idea and be somewhat enlightened to the new world order. As it was, their arrogance was oozing; even the dragons were feeling sick from it. Andy left, agreeing with the adviser.
“Maybe I should have picked another place?” he asked, examining the sun-dried plain with short withered grass. “It’s unlikely anything will grow here.”
“It’s a good spot,” Ruigar answered. “The miur went over it with a fine-tooth comb. Their priests say there are vast underground lakes here, perfect for Mellornys. And there the forest will grow and retain moisture itself, and the mountain rivers will cease to dry out.”
“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Andy agreed with the forester’s arguments. He looked at the tub and regretted that he’d left Ania, Lilly, and Tyigu home. It would be interesting for them too to see the Mellorny planting according to the ancient ritual with a blood binding. Andy himself didn’t understand why he’d decided on such an exotic method, once read by the Great Mother Asha in an old folio and moved to the were-dragon’s memory during the merger of minds. It was just interesting to conduct an experiment, testing the methods they used thirty thousand years ago. “Begin!” he told the ceremony steward—an old gray-haired elf.
The old elf bowed low and turned to his tribesmen, who immediately started singing a hymn. The second group of Forest Elves from Nelita and the humans of the borderlands began to dig a hole under the seedling with small wooden shovels and their bare hands. In a minute, Andy joined them, and it became more fun. The dragon’s claws, capable of breaking steel, came at an opportune moment. To the pleasant choral singing, supported by the dragons and the miur, the excavation of the pit was completed in five minutes. The old elf solemnly destroyed the tub with a spell. His assistants, using a levitation spell, picked up the seedling and carefully lowered it into a prepared pit. Andy went to Mellorny and began to fill the pit with earth. Up until the moment the tree merged with the astral and the ritual ended, no one else had the right to get within ten yards of the seedling.
Closing his eyes, he restored the rune pattern from the ancient ritual. The spell was difficult. It consisted of several blocks and required huge energy costs. Only a true blood could create the necessary spell and fill it with mana. Diving into the astral, Andy slightly opened the internal gates. Placing the runes in their designated spots, he didn’t notice that the jaws of elves and many dragons began a journey to the ground. Filled with energy, the runes became visible even without true vision. They glowed brighter than the sun, making the most impressionable people slowly retreat back at first, then this movement became universal. The humans, miur, elves, and dragons didn’t understand what was happening, but the instinct of self-preservation forced everyone to stay away from the sparkling clear geometric faces of the rune scheme.
Still not opening his eyes (they aren’t necessary for magical vision), Andy, clawing at the trunk of the seedling, then on the wrist of his right front paw, touched the bloody wrist to the severed bark and pronounced the activator key. Many present fell to the ground from the booming sound of thunder in the clear sky. The rune scheme blazed with blinding light; a network of electrical discharges emerged over the seedling and the dragon standing next to it. The air smelled of ozone.
Andy again dived into the astral and stretched the luminescent tourniquet to the roots of the seedling. The earth shook mightily; the electrical discharges gathered into a whirlwind. The giant energy whirlwind, under a deafening shriek and a continuous thunderous roar, was spiraling ever stronger and stronger. Humans and elves ran; the dragons soared and hammered out circles high in the sky. The guards and captives got mixed up and ran all over the place. While running for their lives, they didn’t pay attention to such trifles as guarding the prisoners. The clumsy and slow individuals fell to the ground, getting struck by the lightning or pebbles flying off the tornado. Suddenly, the screech subsided. Many of those who were fleeing stopped in order to roll on the ground from a powerful glowing wave. Many of the runners’ noses hit the dirt. Lightning struck in all directions.
The magical wave rolled over the Wasteland. After a few moments, it had covered hundreds of miles and went to knock the leaves and branches from the Mellornys of the Light Forest. Hundreds of thousands of Forest Elves looked with horror at the strange shedding of foliage and completely bare trees. The elves were panic-stricken. Many of them started thinking this was the end of the world or other misfortunes from the category of Armageddon. But no sooner had the last fallen leaves touched the surface than the trees began to produce hundreds of young shoots. Thin twigs stretched toward the sun. The pure silver of the bark contrasted with the rich foliage of the young leaves.
Especially sensitive magicians felt a powerful flow of mana flowing through the Mellornys’ trunks, and in the center of the wasteland something incredible was happening: the giant Mellorny with bloody veins on the silvery bark no longer resembled the seedling it was ten minutes ago. The mighty tree, now with a diameter that would take about twenty people to hold hands around, lifted its crown to a height of two hundred yards. Thousands of whitish roots drilled the earth, descended into the lakes, and shot out sprouts. The ground beneath the frightened people’s feet was trembling. Here and there, it broke to release a new shoot with silvery bark stretching tow
ard the sky.
After falling into a trance and pumping the Mellorny with mana, Andy didn’t realize he’d been sitting on a wide branch for a long time at a height of eight hundred feet up. He woke up five hours later and for a long time couldn’t understand what had happened to him. As far as the eye could see, a green sea stretched around, and in the sky, giant spinning runes encircled him. Finding a tie that stopped the effect of the spell, he destroyed the rune pattern that simply devoured the sea of mana emitted by the young forest. It was a forest with a capital F.
Now he understood the purpose of the block responsible for the cyclical nature of the spell’s effect. When he connected the seedling, himself and the astral, the feeding block unit began to actively accumulate mana. When it got to a certain level, it dumped all it had accumulated into the Mellornys, which received a push for rapid growth. And the more the young trees grew, the faster the mana accumulated and the more often the activating discharges occurred. If Andy didn’t interrupt the effect of the spell, the process could become irreversible. At the moment he came to, the Great Forest covered about forty percent of the area it occupied three thousand years ago. It was possible to say with certainty that in three years the entire Wastelands would be covered with young growths without any magical help. Another thing no one had yet realized was that the ritual with the blood binding removed the ancient spell. All that was required was that a dragon give life to the Forest through his blood, but who could have known, especially since there were no altruistic dragons left on Ilanta after the war...