Game Changing

  Fire Jeremy. - Candle. – the Mourneers' order.

  ^^^

  The sky outside the windows was still unusually purple, and even the grey clouds seemed to have a purple aura.

  Making her way through the crowd of servants into the kitchen, Nogibrella was greeted by a questioning expression on Gerta's face. With a breadth like that, it was hard to ignore.

  "The lord asked me to bring him a duckzelle," the personal maid explained her presence.

  "That doesn't sound like our Lord. You're lying, Nog," the head cook squinted suspiciously.

  "I am. I just felt like eating," the girl confessed shamefacedly.

  Gerta's face widened even more with a smile:

  "Wait for me, Nog. I'll feed you. The Lords won't be short of food, and their leftovers can be used to make a feast for all the Lowers."

  The cook waddled off towards the boiling cauldrons and the tables piled high with dishes, and the spy headed for the pantry. The other kitchen servants ignored her.

  Inside, cold and frozen food reigned supreme. Nogibrella looked at the map and the cube of the Striped Man she still held (a very bad spy). She tucked the cube under her wide belt and unfolded the parchment, making sure the writing was not in the common language, but in some mysterious way she understood it.

  On the secret passage to the library was a schematic drawing of the big-eyed alm that was the lever. Under the kitchen was another room and a schematic drawing of a boarler's head (worse, in the spy's opinion. The artist had completely forgotten about the fur).

  The girl rushed to the shelves and began to examine them frantically, scattering food. Behind one of them, she found the right lever (and it turned out that it was not the artist who was bad, but the creator of the alm levers). As she pulled it, the spy heard a click. It released planks in the floor, lifting which Nogibrella found a passage downwards.

  This is the lowest point of the palace, below that another tier begins. This passage is a clear violation of the taboos of Hreb, on both sides. That's why it's secret. Nogibrella descended into a small room lit by a cluster of blue and orange mushrooms. Apart from the mushrooms, there was only a table with a box on it and a trapdoor in the floor (the taboo violation was even more violating).

  She cautiously approached the box, trying to find the strength to open it. Nogibrella had an inkling of what the source of the antimagic field looked like. The outsiders are cancelling the magic. Or rather, their gaze.

  Taking a deep breath, the girl touched the box, which was slightly larger than a human head. With a light touch, the box collapsed. There was nothing inside. A sigh of relief mixed with a sigh of disappointment to form a sigh of neutrality. Empty. Everything was for literally nothing.

  Though, if that trapdoor led...

  Someone jumped into the room from behind the spy. Someone heavy. Not the most pleasant sound under the circumstances. It shares the last places with the demonic 'I'll suck your soul' and 'Gotcha, spy'.

  "Gotcha, spy," Sig announced triumphantly.

  "Did you fall into that hole, too? We need to find the people who made the kitchen floors and throw them in here. Well, let's go look for them, shall we?" the spy said. Her voice showed her owner's fear in a sneaky, treacherous way.

  "Whoever made these floors did it right. The pit appears when you pull the lever," Sig began to slowly approach Nogibrella.

  "Actually, it's always been there. And the lever just opened the access to it," the girl started to back away and finished doing it immediately because her back was against the table. Has he followed me? And does he know about Meg and my fight with her nose?

  "How fortunate that you chose this place for our rendezvous with fate," the guard stepped onto the trapdoor, cutting off the girl's potential escape route. "After I will destroy your nose (knows...)," he showed the instrument of retribution - his fist, "we will go to the commander and you will tell him why a simple servant needs a map of the palace in an unfamiliar language. Is it the language of the Mourneers?"

  "I'm new here, I need to find my way around." Nogibrella couldn't even press herself against the wall - the table was in the way.

  "So you just found this map on the floor. And then you just wanted to slip it into my sister's things, along with that thing, what's it called?" the guard parried the girl with her own weapon.

  Sig was quite close now. He was bigger and stronger than Nogibrella (as are all men and most women), and she knew that if he seized her, she wouldn't be able to free herself. And mean tricks are also mean because they don't work on the same person a second time. And then there's his destruction of her nose, preferably to avoid that.

  The spy took a specially prepared handful of earth from her bag and threw it in the guard's face (the earth flew in wet clods, not dry dust, but that was even better). He covered his eyes with his hand and did not see the knee flying to his groin. A second later he regretted that the armour design did not include metal in this area. Sig bent down and crouched on the ground.

  The girl tried to run past him towards the exit, but he managed to grab her and even threw her into the table a few times, trying to hit her head. These blows knocked the knife out of her sleeve and it was lost on the floor.

  Had she been wearing a maid's dress, Gerta would soon have been unable to tell which was Nogibrella and which was just a pile of chops in her dress. But the spy was wearing her old dress, which belonged to Boiriann. The skirt and shirt were separate items, and the captured skirt slipped slightly, revealing (in another attempt to to escape) to the world in Sig's face the girl's tail.

  Everyone froze until Nogibrella interrupted the pause with a knee to the guard's face. He let her go, more from shock than the blow. The spy rushed for the exit.

  She burst into the kitchen and screamed:

  "Help! Sig is a madman! Help! He attacked me!"

  Should he be called that in the territory of the Court of Madness? Maybe call him sane? After all, it's the truth, and therefore a great lie.

  Nogibrella ran out of the kitchen when she heard Sig:

  "She's a crybaby! Take off her skirt and see..."

  No, not very sane after all.

  People parted in horror from the screaming girl and man. Seoman, who had come around the corner, quickly assessed the situation, dropped the stack of plates he was carrying (with tragic outcome for them) and threw himself between Nogibrella and her pursuer. The guard, who was about to catch up with his victim, was distracted to deliver a punch to the jumper's face. The impact sent Seoman flying into the wall, where he lay with his head wedged between the wall and his chest.

  The other servants pounced on Sig, trying to pin him down. Scurrying away to a safe distance, the spy turned to look at the scene. She noticed that many of the people around her were approaching the windows and staring intently into them. What could be more interesting out there than what was happening in here?

  Dayorb's light has diminished considerably. It couldn't be evening yet. Nogibrella also went to the window and saw the new army.

  The clouds were darkening purple. On the battlefield between the Mourneers and the Madmen, balloons with sails flew like swarmers, blocking out the daylight. Snow and some black dots fell from them in streams. Frenzy tried to knock them down with its hands, but they all deftly avoided the monster's clumsy swings. Nogibrella even felt sad for him.

  One ship stood out in its enormity, strutting through the sky, while the small ships spun around it like a nervous royal retinue. And below, snow began to move in the black river of Mourneers. No, it wasn't snow, it was another army in white. Explosions of snow began to appear among the soldiers (Nogibrella hoped they were snow explosions).

  "And the winter will be more intense than we thought," she said reasonably.

  The man next to her (she thinks his name was Sebarian) noticed her:

  "You have chosen a good time for your squabbles. Go to your master, and this troublemaker will be handed over to his commander. But I don't think they'll have time to deal with you."

  From the mound of snow outside the window grew a creature that Nogibrella had seen in Sanctuary 16 - small and pointy-nosed. Only this one's nose was half broken, and its wearer was blue and white, wearing an ice helmet and ice armour. A collar was visible around his neck, and his facial expression (albeit from a distance) and apathetic body movements betrayed his indifference to what was going on. A very familiar feeling. A weak-willed slave?

  The watchers recoiled from the window, and Nogibrella felt a sudden urge to follow Sebarian's advice. She ran to the Lord Chancellor's room. A servant's duty is to be with her master, and a spy's greater duty is to be with her enemy's leader.

  She found the Striped Man in the company of Lucia and the bald fat man.

  "What do you want from me, Visar?" the lord asked, and glancing at Nogibrella who had run up, added thoughtfully, "I would seek a remedy for their remedy against us. Perhaps we can stop them without defeating them."

  Visar opened his eye in surprise, which he immediately compensated for by closing the other:

  "Yes, gathering information before taking action is reasonable."

  A clearly amplified voice echoed through the palace:

  "RULERS OF HREB, I AM WAITING FOR YOU TO SPEAK. COME TO THE TOP OF THIS PALACE AND YOU WILL BE TAKEN AWAY. YOU MAY BRING AS MANY PEOPLE AS YOU WISH FOR MORAL SUPPORT."

  "'Rulers'?" the Striped Man took offence.

  “'This palace'? Not 'your palace'. This one," the fat man remarked.

  "'As many people as you wish'? So all the city guards aren't a threat to them," Lucia spoke up.

  "But how's they going to take you? Will they lower his ship or they will lower a rope to you?" Nogibrella joined the conversation, too, to say something clever.

  Soon, a group of guards arrived with the commander. Sig was among them.

  "There she is..." Sig began, pointing at Nogibrella.

  "Enough! I promised to take you only if you would talk about business. Does she have anything to do with the newly arrived fleet?" the commander stopped him.

  Sig shook his head grimly, keeping a baleful gaze on the spy.

  The entourage headed for the palace roof. Nogibrella pretended to be part of this group, and no one objected to her presence (at least out loud. Judging by the look on Sig's face, his thoughts were in raised tones). There was a sense of change in the air: in the new view outside, in the people frozen in indecision, and in their anxious faces.

  Above, beneath the dark clouds and the huge hovering ship, a lethargic was already waiting for them. The former elfess wore a collar and a long, open-topped snow dress. The right upper part of the dress was higher and covered her cheek with sharp icicles, like a shield. One eye of the lethargic was closed (of course it was a lethargic) and the other had an ice patch through which something red could be seen. Her white hair was cut very un-elvishly short, revealing long, pointed ears, slightly wide. Perhaps she was not a former elf, but a former member of a kindred race, for she had a squarer face and a more muscular body than the male lethargic Nogibrella had met before.

  As the crowd approached, her white face did not change in any way, she continued to stand with her hands down. But a large chunk of ice flew out from the snow-covered roof of the palace. It began to fly upwards, twisting and turning to take the shape of a spiral staircase. When the staircase reached the large ship, two icy lethargic figures grew at its base. They were slightly bent and pointed with all their hands at the stairs.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  "So we can't get down on our own," said the guard commander, more a statement than a question.

  "I'd be surprised if our guests didn't use all their advantages during the negotiations," Visar said, and nodded to the lethargic: "Thank you very much for the handrails. I'm wearing shoes that weren't made for climbing many metres up ice."

  The handrail maker remained motionless, but another statue of her rose out of the snowdrift. It bent in a bow with its hands on its chest.

  The steps were slippery, but the stairway to heaven stood firm, not swaying in the wind. Hreb's delegation ascended to a giant platform shaped like an inverted pyramid beneath the ship (so that the pyramidal city and this platform seemed to be looking at each other with their narrowings). There they were met by a huge creature (who reminded Nogibrella of Mom). Whether he wore a collar or not was unclear - his neck seemed to be sunk into his body, and long hair covered the upper part of his torso. Only through a small gap in the hair, a fleshy, inhuman nose protruded, along with large, mismatched eyes and long, likewise inhuman ears, curled at the tips.

  The creature gestured invitingly to the outbuildings next to him and walked towards them.

  "So far, everything is still within the bounds of decency, that's a good sign," the Striped Man said as he followed.

  "Shadowlings also purr at the sight of small alms before they sink their claws into them," the fat man shared a curious fact of nature, catching his breath after climbing.

  Blue-skinned and white-haired northerners were scurrying about, as was clearly visible from some of their naked torsos. Aren't they cold? What a great view from here, by the way. There were also white-skinned men in mighty armour, dwarves similar to the former dwarves, but denser, dwarves with slightly pointed ears, badly braided thin beards and completely white eyes - no dots or red streaks, blue-skinned dwarves with pointed noses in collars who appeared to be asleep. And those who did not appear to be asleep, but were really a sleep for real, were rare lethargics (also in collars), as if floating on the floor. A very motley, misheighted crew.

  The ship's rooms were twisted corridors (really twisted - the floor could go down, diving beneath the submerged ceiling, or start to bend left and right for no apparent reason). The walls were lined with metal pipes as twisted as the ground and machines of unclear purpose. Their guide calmly climbed over, squeezed through and even crawled for a while all the obstacles, making the people following him to do the same. What he did not bypass were the creatures around him, who bypassed him.

  When it seemed that they would wander in this mad maze forever, the guide opened the door and stepped aside to let the people in. The guards entered first, maintaining the illusion of controlling the situation.

  Inside were cupboards, a bed, a table, a large window and a white man dressed in blue, with long hair and a tired face. In the corner of the room stood a formidable northerner in white armour, keeping a close eye on the arrivals. Nogibrella thought she had seen him somewhere before.

  "Before we begin," the man in blue said to the guests. He had a distinct northern accent. "Do you see him?" he pointed to an empty place.

  Everyone remained silent. Sig tried to stand behind Nogibrella, and she stepped forward without hesitation. All eyes were on her. And in order to justify it somehow, she answered:

  "No."

  "Are you sure? You don't see any angels?" the man asked with hope crumbling in his voice.

  "Is this some kind of flirtation? Now you're going to say I'm the angel, aren't I?" not knowing what else to say, Nogibrella decided to stop on the nonsense. It was a time-tested choice.

  "Maid! What are you doing here?" only now did the Striped Man notice her presence.

  "Let her be. The more Hreb people here, the better for us," the fat man defended the spy's presence.

  "Now you think I'm crazy?" the negotiator sat down at his desk and looked at some twitching device.

  "As soon as you asked that, I began to wonder," Nogibrella replied.

  "Although I may have jumped to conclusions," Visar added to himself.

  "Maid, come here!" the Lord Chancellor ordered in a loud whisper, though everyone heard him perfectly well.

  Nogibrella stood behind the lord in embarrassment.

  "Don't offend the maid," said the seated man. "I am Vladiburya Zimaslav, the Winter King. And you rule Hreb? I wish to form an alliance with you. I cannot come to terms with the Mourneers because they are fanatics, dangerous to my subjects.”

  Nogibrella's breath caught in her throat. Some winter kinglet has flown in from his icy backwater and is going to give the Court of Madness the upper hand! Who does he think he is? What is winter, anyway? Snow that you can easily destroy with your hands and turn into water.

  The spy was about to reveal herself by talking about the earth boxes, but Visar stepped forward:

  "Will we also be collared like your 'subjects'?"

  "After the Twilight of the Gods, the Alfars and fairies lost their will. I gave them some of mine. These 'collars' are receivers," Vladiburya said sharply. It was obvious that this was a sore subject for him.

  Nogibrella tried to denigrate the Court again, but was interrupted again, this time much more rudely. Darkness fell abruptly outside the window, and a second later the entire wall exploded with dust and shards of wood. The impact knocked everyone and everything in the room to the floor, except for Vladiburya and the Northerner. In the clouds of dust, one of the seven giant heads of Simurgh appeared, over which his mistress, Mourneer Almcatcher, rolled into the room. The giant bird alm immediately flew away and seemed to engage in a battle with the airships. The cold wind that came after her began to flutter everyone's hair and clothes, as well as the piles of parchment on the table.

  The formidable northerner took a step toward the violator of the integrity of the wall, but the Winter King stopped him with a gesture. Almcatcher began to writhe, rope-like tentacles spreading out in all directions, and then she froze in a ridiculous pose. In the tangle of fibres where her face should have been, light shone and smoke billowed out.

  "I am the leader of the Mourneers, Prelate. It is unseemly to begin negotiations without us. This war is our common cause," she said.

  Almcatcher? What has been done to her? It's as if she's been stripped of herself. And where's her cat?

  "Do you agree to negotiate with apparent mages?" Vladiburya was surprised. "Even if you personally agree to join forces with us, your people..."

  "They will agree. Just give me time. It can be gained by giving them a new enemy. Unforgivable. A traitor. Slizvert."

  Oh. Demons...

  "Wait. Now that all the leaders are gathered, let's discuss this seriously, after we've thrown off all the ballast," Visar stepped forward again, followed by Lucia.

  "Thank you, Advisor. Sometimes you make good..." the Striped Man praised his subordinate's initiative.

  "By 'ballast' I mean you. And by 'thrown off' - well, really thrown off. Down from here," the advisor told the lord.

  Even the facial braid couldn't hide the smile on Lucia Revan's face as she listened to the dialogue.

  "Guards, what are you looking at, you blockheads? Act! This is treason! Treason!" the lord shouted.

  "Revolution," Lucia suggested another word.

  But the lord's screams didn't make the guards act.

  "Sometimes it pays to communicate with the people who provide your power, Calvin. And to be the one who pays their wages," the fat man opened both eyes, greedily devouring the sight of the confused striped man. "The future is chaos. Now you finally understand."

  The former lord backed away, bumping into Nogibrella, then scooted behind her, grabbing her by the shoulders and holding her in front of the guards.

  "You're loyal to me, aren't you, maid? I teach you to read, I am good to you! Think of a way to save me," he whispered in her ear, dropping to his knees and standing shorter than her.

  "I can't believe it..." Nogibrella whispered.

  "What?" her holder didn't hear her.

  "I can't believe that such a pathetic loser ruined my life. And then tormented me in my mind. You're nothing, you're empty. Why am I wasting my time on you? How indifferent I am to your existence!"

  Thunder shook the universe, and then the wind hit the ship, rocking it much more violently than when Almcatcher had arrived (but everyone had been prepared for that and managed to stay on their feet). At the same time, Boiriann felt something inside her let go, and she took a full breath of her new world.

  The Prelate said by Almcatcher:

  "Madmen, it seems that your value as allies has dropped by a factor of a thousand. Now, someone, if you would be so kind, kill Slizvert's spy. The one the former lord is holding. She must not leave here."

  Hreb's delegation recoiled from her in surprise, including the str... the former lord. How interesting to be stupid - new discoveries every day. Only Sig grabbed his face with his palm in a sweeping motion. You enjoy being right in a strange way, Sig. You like it, otherwise what's the point?

  "What is her power?" the wary commander asked.

  "She has no power. She has not sacrificed anything. She is just an ordinary human," the Prelate replied.

  "No. My device showed that there is wild magic in her," Vladiburya told them. "A very faint presence. She knows how to hide her power, and it is unlikely that Slizvert would have chosen an ordinary person for such an important mission."

  While everyone hesitated, Boiriann rushed to the new window. Sig ran to intercept her. When he was very close and about to grab the girl, the hand of the former lord, who had run after Boiriann, pushed him. Sig lost his balance and fell into the opening. Then his muscular upper torso pulled him down to the snow-covered ground.

  Boiriann didn't even notice it. She crashed into Almcatcher at a run and jumped out with her. She was grabbed from behind by the former Lord Chancellor of the Court of Madness. Boiriann gripped the Mourneer so tightly that she could feel the hardened stems that made up Almcatcher's body (if the Prelate said anything, it was completely drowned out by the whistling wind in her ears).

  Simurgh caught the flying tangle of bodies with his backs. Boiriann barely had time to grab onto his feathers as he manoeuvred to dodge an ice spear from a nearby air sailboat. It's impossible to catch a seven-headed alm off guard.

  Trying to keep up with the rapidly changing directions, the girl saw Hreb filled with the Winter King's soldiers, a frozen battlefield of black and white. And Frenzy lying motionless on the ground. It... Is it dead? Is my Frenzy dead?

  A huge, blood-stained, pointed pillar of Earth popped out from the back of the fallen monster's head.

  Well, yes. But why now? Because before, Earth attacks couldn't pierce its skin.

  The northern ships stopped chasing the giant alm as he flew away from the great ship. Simurgh landed on the snow. As soon as the girl and the man got off his back, he flew away, holding his unconscious mistress with his twisted paw.

  Calvin (seems that's what the new Lord of the Court of Madness called him) fell to his knees and wept:

  "It's over! It was all for nothing. This is the end."

  "Don't be so upset, Your Former Lordshipness," Boiriann said cheerfully, kneading her hands to ease the tension. "If you ask Almcatcher, she'll give you another ride on Simurgh."

  The former lord raised his tear-stained face and looked at the girl:

  "What should I do now?"

  "What you want to do. You can try to regain your authority, which I don't recommend because of your low mental capacity. You can die. But if I were you, I'd start afresh, find a wife with very low standards and live the rest of my life in peace. I don't care, though. I'll go back to the friends I have, unlike some ex-lordlings."

  Boiriann turned and walked through the snow away from Calvin. She could have killed him, but her indifference was genuine. Not forgiveness to make herself look like a heroine, not pretence for reward, not revenge in leaving him to perish. Nothing. Empty and light. In place of something heavy, rusty and unwieldy. How beautiful emptiness is.

  "Stop! Don't leave me here! I do not know how to survive in the wasteland," the former lord called after her, rising from his knees.

  The girl turned and pointed sternly at his feet:

  "Sit down. Don't follow me, or you won't even have a chance to survive," she continued, moving further away from the broken man.

  There was an unusual lightness in her whole body (the girl even felt a bit like Splinter again). She finally stopped carrying the striped man.

  ###

  Vladiburya stood at his new window, the wind playing with his coat and hair. Due to the sudden departure of the head of the Mourneers, the negotiations had to be postponed. The new ruler of Hreb had gone to reassure his people.

  The Div who entered knelt down and reported:

  "They have successfully evaded the fighters and have landed, my king."

  "Good," said his king, still looking out at the landscape. What a strange shade of snow.

  "Send cleaners and builders, my king?" asked the Div.

  "Only builders. I can clean myself. All the devices must be in a certain place, and the cleaners..." Vladiburya stopped his meaningless explanation and waved his hand.

  When the Div was gone, the Winter King returned to the vast window:

  "Hrol, put on the armour and keep an eye on this Slizvert, and then act according to the circumstances."

  Hrol walked silently towards his king, then took a step into the opening and flew down. Poser.

  "You think you can stop the war? War... War is unchangeable," the angel said from behind.

  War...

  ###

  Young Vladiburya already knew about War, but only that morning did he feel her touch on him. And the rest of the world.

  "You're the heir to the throne now. What a hunting permit to you?" Hrol said to Vladiburya with undisguised mockery.

  "So is Slavoslav, and he's closer to the throne," Vladi said defensively.

  "I have a real chance of becoming a konung. Why should I ruin my relationship with the falconers?" mockingly explained Vladiburya's elder brother, who stood here in the company of young men. Their faces had already been erased from the mature Vladiburya's memory.

  "Come on, now. You see, it took all his courage to become the heir," Hrol suggested, and his company left, revealing Vladiburya's older sister, Mara. Mara was followed by her thrall, a wild man in a collar.

  "Don't listen to them. They're still boys, despite the ritual," she said when all the boys had lost the chance to hear her words.

  "You mean I shouldn't listen to myself either?" Vladiburya asked snidely.

  "You understood the meaning of my words, don't be a Hrol."

  "I can't ignore them. Slavoslav is right - we need to build relationships with potential allies now."

  "With allies like that, you don't need enemies," Mara invited her brother to walk down the corridor (the Winter King didn't remember this corridor very well, so there were a lot of white holes in it). "Have you heard the news yet? The Mechanism is working again."

  "Hopefully the Winter Fairies will finish the Southern Wall in time. I hear the southerners think we're sending storms at them on purpose."

  "I doubt they'll have time. Didn't you know? The communes of Borea, Lucomoria, Belovodye, and thirty-nine vassal kingdoms have recently arrived. Father is raising an army," the sister somehow continued to sound unconcerned.

  "And when was I supposed to know about this, according to him?" the heir to the throne asked tensely.

  "What do you need this information for? You have to study anyway. I probably shouldn't have told you," the sister opened the door and entered the study room.

  History was taught by an old blind Chud'. He was small in stature, with pointed ears and a large nose (Chudi are related to fairies and southern Dvergrs (they are called Dwarves)). The study room was also almost forgotten - it was mostly white. But the Winter King remembered the windows (they will be an important part of this memory, of course) and the hard, uncomfortable chairs.

  "When the lich-king, Thrall the Immortal, had nearly conquered all the lands," the teacher mumbled, "he tried to awaken the Dog, the harbinger of the Twilight of the Gods (the Dog always confused Vladiburya. Why not a Wolf? The dog is a tame wolf, after all. The end of the world should be announced by something wild, not man-made. Vladiburya was a naive fool then). But he was defeated by Eivor, the son of Eivor, with the help of the Bone Witch. The lich's phylactery was in a needle, in his throne room, filled with millions of poisoned needles. But Thrall the Immortal had not considered the weight of his soul. Eivor..."

  The sky ignited, illuminating the entire room with an unfamiliar light. All the students rushed to the window, seeing fire instead of clouds and red instead of blue.

  "The moon has been torn apart! They've destroyed it!" screamed hysterically a female thrall (her status was called thyr, but most just used 'trall'. Sorting out the genders of the servant slaves? Yeah, right), swinging the doors open. She was too distraught with fear to respect the hierarchy. Then she went to the other doors, spreading the panic further.

  Vladiburya remembered her face well - it was she who confirmed the seriousness of the situation and instilled fear into the soul of the future King of the North.

  "The lesson is over, I must go. If there are any mages among you, even weak ones, then follow me. We must all stop the moon from shattering. Since we are not dead, it is already beginning to be contained," the teacher said, heading for the exit with some of the students.

  And Vladiburya looked up at the sky of fire, and it reflected in his eyes.

  A faint voice called out to him:

  "Master! We need to leave."

  Vladiburya turned around and saw her - the Alfar, his personal thrall. In his memories, there was a blurry spot of light instead of her face.

  Oh, what a chapter... Is there anything more satisfying in life than deleting your notes (which read something like "Defeating Frenzy is B's refusal to take revenge", "In the background of the study, the North is raising troops for war" or "The hard study chair is a reference to a future pillow throne") because you have implemented them?

  There were so many events to fit into this chapter that the resolutions were competing with each other. For example, the betrayal and the reveal of Boiriann. I had to think about what order to put them in.

  I wrote that of course everyone understood what the references were in this flashback, but now in translation I'm afraid that comment has become irrelevant. Well, this is Slavic folklore in high fantasy plus a reference to Victor Pelevin.

  Our lich-king is a pretty smart guy, since he placed his soul in a simple needle, not in some great artifact.