Читать книгу Element. Flame of Elisar - - Страница 2

Wind… It was blowing me right into the face, nearly tearing off the hood. Everything around seemed to be smashed and rush past me, never even giving a chance to catch a line or a color. I was running along a path that ran through the valley in some snaky windings.

Birds were singing somewhere far and away… It was spring, which came to make the people of the Highlands happy with its bright colors, sounds and scents. The mountain snowcaps that had got so fat through winter were getting thinner and thinner falling into the valleys with fast and noisy streams.

However, now it all seemed far in the distance. All the sounds appeared muffled, the smells got mixed, and it was next to impossible to hear any of them clearly. And I had no time for that, actually. I was in a hurry to complete Mammy’s special commission – to deliver a special elixir to Truvle, a blacksmith who lived on the outskirts of a small town near Karun. And I had to bring it to him as soon as possible.

The elixir belonged to the category of fillers, which means it could deliver magic or certain properties to other things. And this time it was definitely to be used for some weapons. The thing was that I did not have the time to ask what power exactly Nargara had filled it with – she had another customer, and if I had interfered with any questions that would drive Mammy really mad.

Okay, I could ask Truvle, then, so I decided to move even faster. Well, at least it would have seemed faster to anyone around.

For me, though, everything seemed to be freezing and turning into a slow and heavy mass, while in my temporary space, I was moving quite well.

Fast walking is a rare gift among Elses, and Gods were definitely generous when decided to endow me with it (don’t even know what made them think I deserved it). I have no least idea how I do it, and it doesn’t matter, to be honest. Most citizens have already got used to seeing me show up so brightly and unexpectedly in the streets of Karun, and only those who met me for the

first time would have their jaws drop and whispered, “Not even each supreme sorcerer is up to this!”

And this fast walking helped me deliver things fast, moving around all the parts of the Highlands, which earned our family a stable living.

We lived away from the big world, out in the cut, you could say. But it was right here, in the mountains of Elisar, where nature brought together all the rarest of riches. Funny animals that you would never see anywhere else, galloped on the stones, and the hillsides were covered with herbs to be found nowhere. A perfect place for a wise witch, as Nargara noted once. And she was really wise and experienced, just take my word for it – she knew how and when to collect herbs, she could feel when the time was just ripe and the herbs were in their full strength, and she remembered hundreds of secret details: what to mix with what, how to cook it, what was to be air-dried and what – sun-dried, and finally how to prepare elixirs with exactly the properties she needed. I didn’t really fancy all that boring stuff and always had trouble staying patient while making another complex thing. Alchemy was definitely not my cup of tea. Taking pains sitting over books and measuring all the tiniest components for a potion – that was killing! However, I always admired that persistence coupled with precision in Nargara.

My sister, even though more patient than myself, was neither particularly eager to learn that important yet tiresome skill. Mammy would fight with us while trying to drive at least something into our stupid heads, always saying just one thing – we were the only two troubles that had made her head so gray. By the way, Mammy does not seem like turning gray any time soon, unless Elcha and I help her, so to say.

My nature, as my family said, matches my hair – fire-red, riotous, with large curls falling down to… well, just below the waist. And even although in the morning my caring sister helped me have it all braided, yet some unmanageable strands got out spreading proudly over my shoulders.

Elcha and I resemble each other, just like two people related – olive skin, dark and slightly raised eyebrows, and plush lips. The only thing that is different is the eyes. My sister has them bright green, the color of emerald, while I have an iris that features a rare turquoise shade, which offers a sharp contrast to my red curls.

The appearance was somewhat unusual for the World of Water, yet rather common for the Highlands. Here, unlike the rest of the world, all types of redheads prevailed, so my sister and myself never stood out of the crowd.

In the south, just like in the capital, Highlanders were often called “the Saarts”, which

could be roughly translated from Ancient something like “burning” or “flamy”. And there, down in the south, it did not always sound like a compliment…

Survival takes warmth in a cold winter, while through a hot summer it is coolness that saves. That made locals respect the kind of magic that could offer them a comfortable life. Southern Elses appreciated the Ice Water skills, whereas the northern ones valued Burning. And people developed numerous fables and tales about it, and even more, beyond any imagination. Women of the South mocked those from the North, getting something similar in return; and even men would not miss a chance to crack a joke.

By the way, there was no man in our family; nor were there any plans to get one. And it was not just a common decision but rather mine. First, all the suitors were not very much of suitors – between hay and grass, if I may put it that way, and second, the typical custom in Elisar was for the woman to go to her husband’s house after the wedding, and I just couldn’t leave my Mammy and sister alone.

As for Nargara, she would reject any courtship inevitably keeping men at bay, even though she did accept gifts from them. As for sister, she was still a little girl, seen by boys as a friend and an accomplice in all sorts of dirty tricks and mischief, rather than someone to fall in love with.

The wind was still howling in my ears as I rushed past a pillar with a sign reading “Great Master Blacksmith Truvle” and featuring an arrow showing the way. I had hardly stopped and let the time go its conventional pace when the door to the shop opened with the “Great Master Blacksmith” appearing in the doorway, wearing an apron all black with smoke, a wrinkled shirt, his face and hair all wet. He must have just chilled himself with a bucket of ice-cold water, which he always did.

“Hey, dear!” he greeted me with his low yet tender voice.

“Hey, hope you are having a nice day here! Saw me coming?” I sat on an enormous bench at the door.

“Could not miss you, of course. You are just an arrow fire when moving, could see you from far away. Must have covered a long way, huh?” he chuckled. “Brought my stuff?”

“I sure did!” I gave a nod producing a beautiful deep blue flask out of my pocket. “Listen, Truvle, what is this? I did not have the time to ask Mammy but judging by the flask this is not a common order,” and I gave him a sly look.

“Well, I guess it didn’t take you long to figure out that one,” he said and returned the look. “How long did you travel this time? Another record set?”

“Nope…,” I gave a deep sigh, a little forced, probably. “The valley is full of water again, up to your knees, the waterfalls are getting strong. Last time I spent less than an hour… and now – longer. It’s all the water.”

“Yeah, spring is early this year, lots of water,” he uttered watching the clouds hugging the hillside like a blanket would cover a little child sleeping.

The road from our place to Truvle’s workshop ran through the Falls Valley, which looked like an oval-shaped bowl, where from its northern side, five waterfalls – each of different power – fell on both sides, thus creating a whitish water mist, which, turning into clouds, hid most of the valley.

Further on, they all came together creating the Full-Flow River, which rushed out of the valley leaving a happy and sound roar behind.

Typically, that way would take one whole day to cover. For me that was a couple of hours’ job. Round trip, I mean, which gave a major advantage to our family business, so to speak. Elixirs and medicines would not wait a day or two to be delivered to the customer. A healing brew had quite an acceptable shelf life retaining its effect for up to two months. Elixirs, Fillers, though, had an effect that never lasted long – no more than three days, and then they broke up into totally stupid ingredients. And there were even some that lived just several hours. So, judging by the flask, it was one of these that I had just brought to Master Truvle; it means it must have had some enormous effect. So I went on fiddling with that piece of blue and shimmering glass, yet again trying to fathom its magical purpose.

Seeing my eyes glued to the flask, the blacksmith decided not to torture me any longer and snapped, “Come on. Will show ya something. Guess you’ll like it!”

And a fast sly smile that flashed across his face in the next moment was a dead giveaway behind his anticipation.

As we stepped into the shop, dry heat and a slight smell of cinders overwhelmed us. The place was small and lit by bright and smooth light of a humming forge.

Truvle’s forge was not a simple one either – it had the happily crackling Everlasting fire, which had become so popular in the Highlands. Of course, that was due to our family’s contribution as well. Nargara likes experiments, so when the blacksmith asked her to help him make his craft better, she took it up with great enthusiasm. That was a path of cut and try, where Nargara spared neither time nor her ingredients. But the outcome was worth it – she exceeded even her own expectations. The fire proved really bright and smooth. And it was powerful indeed.

That made Master Truvle famous throughout the entire area given the quality of the steel he forged and hardened. Besides, he got more and more orders for magical blades; they were tailor-made, which, in turn, made them very expensive, and that made happy not the honored Master alone, yet also the quiet witch and her daughters.

The point of the magic here was not the fire itself, as many would believe, but the wood. A piece of wood impregnated with a special concoction just never burned away. And now the blacksmith had three of such logs, and the heat they produced was just right.

A red-hot blade was on the anvil, as if it was a great king sitting on his throne in solemn silence, and throwing one single glance at the weapon was enough to see that the blacksmith had vested it with his entire skill and power.

Truvle loved making weapons with a secret, which typically was quite tough to crack. Once he would come up with a short blade that fanned out each time you turned the gem on the handle, then he forged a sword, which would fork out into an unseen steel snake tongue as soon as you turned the guard. Well, that was his hobby – not to create just a weapon, but make some sort of a deadly masterpiece. Apparently, he did it to have the victim of that very work enjoy the beauty so much as to be happy to get killed.

Another thing he loved was giving names to his creations – an arbitrary right he, as a typical creator, would never concede to anyone else. Each of the things he made was one of a kind, so Truvle’s clients were not just commoners, and never poor.

And now, with some crazy fanatical gleam in his eyes, he looked at the weapon and whispered, “Order from the capital. Some extremely powerful Mister… perhaps even from the Supreme…”

“Why perhaps?” I could not resist asking.

“The order was brought by a servant… a very strange person, all wrapped in a cloak. I couldn’t even see his eyes from under the hood… Just whispered he would be back in seven days, and then stuffed into my hand a note listing all the details he wanted in his weapon, and disappeared,” the smith sounded thoughtful and a little nervous.

“You didn’t like him, did you?”

“Him? No… the voice was really strange… as if rustling… But the moment he paid me I nearly fell in love with him,” Truvle chuckled picking the tongs.

I smiled. Yeah, people coming to this area were strange sometimes but a good order they placed would immediately excuse anything we did not like about them. I took another curious glance – the blade was solid and well-balanced, nothing less to expect from the Master, though.

It took a gracious turn coming to a thin and sharp point, while the body itself was decorated with curls and whorls resembling waterfalls. They went up to the handle getting larger and more visible, while at the crosshead the streams of metal hugged tenderly a huge light-blue gem and then split into two peculiar lines getting lost in the tight handle. Despite the red light coming from the flame, the gem shimmered blue. And the back of the handle featured a special mark – tongs crossed with a hammer all enveloped in flames – Master Truvle’s trademark that stood for the top quality.

“Beauty…” I gasped. “Truvle, you outdid yourself!”

“Oh, come on! Just spare my blushes!” the blacksmith was definitely happy with the praise, and I could tell immediately he was proud of his own work.

However, I was rather skeptical seeing his face red with the heat, and tried to see if I could make it even brighter, and here the blade caught my eye again: What was the secret that the genius blacksmith hid here this time?

I gave it another glance… looked intently at the handle … Okay, patience was definitely not my strong point! I waved my hand.

“Well, giving up! What is it this time?”

“You know, nothing special this time… Strange as it is but it is all about the right filler here. And the transformation elixirs your Mammy makes, they are unbelievable,” his voice was full of respect and even revealed a shade of awe.

I noticed that sort of admiration several times before when this strongman mentioned Mammy. It looked like the honored Master was not indifferent to the equally honored Witch. I even tried to make fun of him from time to time.

“Today, the elixir will do the job. The customer insisted so…”

“And the gem? What is it?” I was once again impatient to learn more.

“It’s a topaz. The client brought. Must be not just a simple pebble either, but that would be too much beyond my mind,” Truvle frowned.

Topaz… what was there in the book about it… Ah, got it!

“Topaz is one of the varieties of vergil. The coloring of the mineral resembles the color of sea water, i.e., from light to deep blue. Belongs to the group of the most powerful gems in magic, which are able to enhance the man’s potential. Topaz corrects human thoughts making them clearer; concentrates magical flows and energies. Good only for the water element; gets destroyed when used by other elements,” I quoted a paragraph from the Book of Elements.

“Wow! You aren’t that hopeless!” Truvle gave me another sly smile as he was taking the

red-hot blade to the anvil. “I think Nargara is a little wrong when she calls you numbskulls! There is at least something that fails to get lost in your young red heads!” He was definitely mocking me now.

I grimaced trying to show my discontent with the irony, and was just about to retaliate with another joke when the blacksmith said something that made me forget everything and stand still in anticipation of a miracle:

“Let’s start, then?” He stretched out his hand in a demanding gesture. I obeyed putting the flask with the elixir into his huge palm. “And remember, whatever happens, don’t even think about touching it!” he warned me pointing to the blade that looked so peaceful at first.

“Got you!” I snapped.

The blacksmith nodded and took the lid off. He carefully brought the container to the weapon and started pouring the liquid onto the blade moving his hand slowly from the handle to the point.

The hot metal hissed furiously as it absorbed greedily the dark liquid. Nothing was happening in the next few minutes, and then…

The blade surface ruffled as if a wave was passing through it. The ornament of curls gave some bluish radiance, and then suddenly the blade spread… just spread like mercury, wrapping the bright blue topaz. And the metallic liquid froze still.

I gave a scream of surprise and stepped back. “Wow! Is it going to remain… like this… errr… blur?!”

“Wait a minute! Now the elixir is bringing structure to the metal! Just wait,” Truvle was piercing the work of his magic blacksmith art with his gaze now.

And there we were waiting… a minute… two… and three… After a while I got really bored so I decided to find something more interesting looking through what the Honored Master Truvle had made in the past days. The table at the opposite wall was full of weapons ready to go – all types of swords, daggers, stilettos and lots of other stuff I did not even know the name of. And the throwing knives, of course! I knew that most of them had a secret – a little hollow in the blade, filled with mercury through forging. When turning in the air the mercury would hit against the wall from inside thus adding to the knife’s power and straightening its course. No magic, actually! And yet, Truvle never had trouble attracting customers willing to buy that deadly weapon.

As I was lost in my thoughts Truvle’s voice broke the silence. “Here it starts!”

I turned round to see the blot-shaped thing on the anvil get back in shape turning rapidly into a blade.

The curly pattern glowed even brighter than before, and the gem turned deep blue. But that was not the end of transformation. The blade was streaming again, and for a few moments flickering metal streams rushed to the hot gem gathering into something looking like an octopus, which wriggled and coiled. And as soon as the metamorphosis was complete we could see a bracelet – wide and beautiful, featuring the same curls and the bright blue gem right in the middle. The shape and size – slightly rough and tough – were proof that it was all designed to serve a man.

As I bent down to get a better look at the shining ring Truvle shouted, “Ricka! I told you not to touch it!”

“Yeah, I know! Didn’t even think about it!” I said as I jerked my hand back.

He gave me a look of mistrust and frowned while I was trying to compose a totally innocent and attractive face, as if saying, “Well, it wasn’t even me!”

“You can’t touch it before I add the fixer. Otherwise all work is a mess!” he mumbled and turned to the cabinet to take some flask. This time the bottle was of an unusual red color.

He opened it, came up to the anvil and splashed the bracelet with the liquid that turned into red streaks.

“It’s blood!” I realized.

“Blood…” Truvle replied, “its future owner’s blood.”

“Do you mean it’s a Vernor?” I was shocked now.

“You beeet!” and the man gave a happy chuckle again.

A Vernor was a weapon that remained faithful, and submitted to, one master alone. Should the master’s enemy get such a thing… well, all we can say is it would never make that enemy happy. It might remain safe only if given by the owner himself to someone else, yet it would lose its magical powers immediately.

“Well, finished now!” Truvle was definitely happy as he patted my shoulder with his enormous hand. All I could do was just utter a squeak – his hand was heavy enough to kill a bull. And then, realizing he had nearly crushed me, Truvle said, as if by way of apology, “You know, I’ve got you a gift!” I could see his eyes full of sparkle. “Sorry to come a bit late with this, just had to find the right metal.”

The Master went back to the same closet in the corner and took a midsized box. I rubbed

my shoulder and stared at what he had in his hands, all fascinated. What did he get for me this time?

We had known this man since childhood. And when in Karun, he would visit us bringing inevitably all sorts of yummies. Elcha and I used to look forward to his visits that always seemed something of a miracle – we were rather poor those days, so sweets were a luxury we could never afford. And for our birthdays he would always make something beautiful for us – bracelets, hairpins or earrings.

I leaned over the box that had already been opened for me, and as soon as I looked in my eyebrows went up – two blades at the bottom of the box.

“Star Ore!” I exclaimed.

“Well, that’s what I meant saying it was no easy job to get it!” Truvle smiled totally delighted with the effect his gift had produced.

“How would you ever get it?!” I was ready to jump with delight or hug him like a five-year-old girl getting her best doll for birthday. But as soon as I could get back to my normal senses I looked at him with sincere regret and said: “Truvle, I can’t take the gift. Too expensive…”

Star ore was really expensive stuff as it was nothing short of cosmic iron. And that was far from a common thing in Elisar.

“Stop being stupid! Take it … Should have done it long ago, actually! Perhaps nothing would have happened if you had had something to protect yourself!” he spat out and stopped immediately.

I lowered my eyes as I knew perfectly well what he meant…