"According to a later hypothesis, some theologians tend to view Light and Darkness not only as the spiritual and material principles of man, but also as personifications of primordial matter—gods who are part of the pantheon on equal footing with our revered Dar. In fact, in Laugdeil, there are still shrines dedicated to Light and Darkness, and pilgrims come to them from all over the world. In pagan beliefs, the cult of Light and Darkness was more prominent than the cult of Dar, and we must learn to tolerate those who firmly hold on to their religion. Moreover, we must listen to their myths and legends, because they might prove to be true in relation to our own lives.

  It’s no secret that even the priests of Dar—those who supposedly hear whispers from the gods on how best to govern a mindless crowd of fanatics—can be mistaken. And believe me—their mistake with Darius and Octarus will one day cost them their lives...

  As for the legends that deify Light and Darkness, they have a serious foundation, and this fact is supported by research at Lake of Aktida using modern laboratory equipment. Furthermore (I'll add on my own), if these legends were made the official state religious doctrine, they could give a good kick in the rear to our sluggish progress. Some theories proposed in the sacred books of the cult of Light and Darkness are, in reality, attempts to build an ideal society—or at least one as close to ideal as possible. But that is nothing more than the idle talk and dreams of old men, which are unlikely to come true in this millennium, for they contradict all the laws of our native Aktida. After all, who would be fond of a cult where rebels and revolutionaries are elevated to the rank of saints?!"

  Kairu smirked. After reading two-thirds of the book, it became perfectly clear to him why, in his time, Gorentum had been declared a sorcerer and a dark warlock. "Vaimarikirian" must have simply detonated the ancient Nocturn society—thick and indifferent to everything, like jelly slowly drifting through life, lulled by the psalms of priests and the speeches of orators...

  Perhaps that’s exactly why Petros had based many of his ideas on it when he was developing the plan for a state coup?

  "That’s a bad book," Dob said, peering over his shoulder. He spoke the common tongue easily. Clearly, Aok had been lying when he said druids were cut off from the world; he had given his son a fine education. "A lot of blood has been shed because of it…"

  "How do you know?" Kairu looked at him suspiciously.

  "I can feel it," Dob replied without going into detail. "Druids have good intuition, and this book reeks of the blood of innocent victims… of world wars… Pack your things, it’s time to go. I understand you’re all tired, but in this kind of frost, the faster we move, the better."

  It was a frosty, sunny New Year’s morning—just over three weeks had passed since they had left Generia and begun their journey through the Regerlim Forest, still as deserted and lifeless as ever. But after Dob joined the group, Kairu felt as if they had entered a different part of the forest, having passed something mysterious and frightening that lurked at its very heart. Or maybe the evil spirit of Regerlim accepted them as its own once they had found common ground with the druids. That was Dob’s theory. Whatever the truth, everyone was breathing a little easier now.

  But a long march through the snow still lay ahead, in terrible, bone-chilling frost, with minimal provisions in their backpacks. There were still hostile clans inhabiting Regerlim, and despite everything, Yuffilis and Konrad were convinced that the mercenaries from the Desert Lands would follow them north, no matter the cost.

  For now, though, the journey continued relatively calmly, and the chieftain’s son kept things lively with his chatter about everything under the sun. Dob turned out to be incredibly superstitious. For example, on the day they departed, Viggo asked him:

  "Why are you all so afraid of that Vaimos shrine?"

  "There are ghosts there," the druid replied calmly.

  "Maybe a lich took up residence, like in the shrine of Aktos," Rita suggested.

  "No, it’s definitely ghosts," Dob said confidently. "Anyone who enters the cave with the altar will be forever cursed, his family line will be struck by illness, and all his descendants will die in the third generation. And if a ghost looks at you, you have to find fire-weed before the next new moon, make a brew, and drink it. Only fire-weed protects against the curse. Everyone knows that. But in general, it’s better not to disturb Vaimos. He’ll strike you with lightning, it’s cheap for him."

  The hunter knew an incredible number of tales and legends, which he would recount from time to time. When inspiration struck him, he could talk for hours, occasionally marveling at how little his companions knew. Once, when a wide, hilly field surrounded by forest appeared ahead, Dob abruptly turned off the path and led them around it, hiding behind trees. Only after they passed the area and were deep in the forest again did he speak:

  "That meadow belongs to a hostile clan, and in it lies a village of the Arcts."

  "Who are they?" Yuf asked, puzzled.

  "Vaimaran bears," Konrad answered for the druid. "White bears who can talk. They have no dealings with humans, but still maintain some contact with druids and centaurs."

  "Exactly," Dob nodded. "There are even fewer of them left than of us. Soon we’ll all be gone. And yet, once upon a time, our peoples—druids, centaurs, Arcts, and others—ruled Laugdeil."

  Kairu immediately remembered Ioran’s stories in the Enchanted Forest.

  "The first sentient beings were the druids and the centaurs," Dob continued. "Central Vaimar was inhabited by bears. In the northwest, beyond the mountains where the Duanmare Plateau lies, and in the east, in the Ice Forest, lived harpies. Back then, they were intelligent, even cunning, but now they’re just bloodthirsty beasts. They say the harpies have a state of their own on the Duanmare Plateau, but no one goes there. Actually, the harpies come from the north, from Kardahill."

  "I haven’t heard about that," Rita said with interest.

  "I thought everyone knew," the druid muttered. "They say just as people can’t live without warmth, harpies can’t live without cold. And Kardahill is a country beyond the icy desert, home to the gates of Niflheim, the world of ice. The harpies come from there; that’s their homeland. But no mortal has yet stepped beyond the gates of Kardahill or crossed the boundary of eternal frost."

  "You could’ve asked me," Ashley grumbled. "I’ve heard of Kardahill, but I don’t really believe it exists..."

  "The south, of course, was ruled by centaurs," Dob continued, seemingly ignoring the sorceress’s remark. "To the east lived goblins, arachnids, and dragons from the mountains called the Stone Barrier. Their tower ruins still stand there. In Vellekh, in eastern Vaimar, yetis lived. In the forests of Aktida, dragons used to dwell too—silver and gold ones…"

  "Dob, what kind of relationship did the druids have with the ancient Nocturns?" Kairu asked. "It’s strange that the Nocturns built so many shrines around here..."

  "Same as we have now with the Kalds," the druid shrugged. "Sometimes we fought, sometimes we traded. But Vaimar was a very important, sacred land for them. It’s the land of night—in their language. The land where Vaimos lives, the god of Darkness, their second most important god—and ours too. In fact, they adopted our gods and gave them new names. We always believed in Light, Darkness, ancestral, and animal spirits. The Nocturns picked that up, but later expanded the pantheon, and ended up with far more gods that were important to them."

  Dob always rose before dawn, went into the forest to hunt. By the time Yuf, who has always been an early bird, woke up, breakfast was already waiting for them. Clearly, the young druid had taken his father's instructions very much to heart and now did everything he could to please those in his care. When Ashley tried to help him with the cooking, Dob merely chuckled.

  The mountains of the North-Vaimar Range were very close, and Kairu estimated that they were no more than a couple of days away. The road wound through hills and ravines, often twisting and turning around slopes crowned with somber sentinels—pines and cedars. Ahead stretched a vast snowy plain, and on the horizon, blue triangles loomed. It wasn’t snowing, but for some reason lately, Kairu often thought he saw sparkling, shimmering dust drifting through the air.

  "This reminds me of something," he muttered thoughtfully, and at once heard Yuf’s voice:

  "The Enchanted Forest." And seeing Kairu’s surprised expression, he added: "Yes, centaurs live here too. There aren’t many of them, and they interact with people even less than in Aktida, but their influence is still quite noticeable."

  "I wouldn’t have thought so," said Rita. "I always imagined they didn’t like the cold!"

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "Not all of them. This is also a very large kingdom. But we have a druid with us, so we travel without hindrance…"

  "You won’t meet them in this part of the forest," Dob noted. "They settle along riverbanks, to the west and eastern borders. And here the mountains are close… they don’t like mountains. Besides, thirty years ago, northern Regerlim was inhabited by humans, and thirty years isn’t that long ago, even if those people are all gone now."

  "Ardrai…" Konrad murmured.

  "Ardrai," the druid confirmed. "It died when the Fire-Breathing Mountain awoke. It was the northernmost city in the world, home to thousands, and they all perished in an instant, no one survived. Rivers of fire flowed from the mountain, flooding the streets, and then turned to stone. Only the stone towers remained on the slope, and they are called the Ruins of Ardrai. No one lives there now except the snow wolves."

  The road leveled out, disappearing into shrub-covered hills at the base of the mountains. To the left, a pine forest stretched skyward from the high ground. They moved forward, toward the blue triangles whose bases etched the horizon. The sky had darkened, a few birds flitted through the foggy gray heights.

  They slowly walked through bare, frost-covered bushes. Evening was approaching. Snow drifted along the ground, and a swirling gust suddenly struck their faces as they emerged from under the spruce trees into a wide, hilly white field. The Regerlim Forest remained to the left, and at the point where its dark band on the horizon merged with the blue shadows of the mountains, black ruins could be seen.

  "Those are villages that once lay at the foot of the mountains," said Dob, heading east along the forest’s edge. "They were all quickly abandoned after Ardrai was lost. The ruins lie higher up, among the cliffs—you can’t see them from here. Do you see the mountain directly ahead?"

  Here, the range jutted forward, and a massive cone with a truncated peak projected onto the plateau. Its slopes, rocky and split with crevices, were ash-gray, and its frozen lava spurs, like sleeping serpents, stretched in places all the way to the forest. And the mountain, sleeping under eternal frost, seemed merely dozing in the white shimmer of snow, but ready to awaken at any moment… terribly, destructively. Above its summit, wrapped in black clouds, a giant ashen vortex slowly spun, pulling snow clouds into itself as if the crater was sucking in the gray mire of the heavens.

  "How could you not see it?" Viggo muttered.

  "That is the Fire-Breathing Mountain. And lately, smoke has been seen over it more often. The mountain is preparing to awaken. Just like thirty years ago."

  Kairu remained silent, staring ahead with a kind of reverent dread. His heart seemed to sense that they were approaching a land where there was no place for man. There, harsh and terrible forces of nature, and forces older than druids or centaurs, ruled over everything—land, water, and the frozen sky.

  The path slowly began to rise. The terrain changed, there were more ravines and hills, and they followed Dob higher and higher, approaching the steep slopes of the North-Vaimar Range. By the time dusk thickened and they could no longer go forward, the druid found a place to camp somewhere among the rocks, where there was no longer any earth or grass, only ice and stone, and serpentine obsidian formations.

  The Fire-Breathing Mountain was now even closer, its shadow seemingly cast over everything around. Even the campfire seemed to burn dimmer, barely pushing back the darkness. Still, Dob left them, disappearing into the night to gather kindling. Upon returning, he dropped a small bundle into the snow and said wearily:

  "The wolves have come too close this winter… They’re hunting in the southeast now, but by tomorrow night, they may reach the mountains. We’ll have to hurry to finish everything before evening and get out of the shrine in peace. I’ll keep watch. You all rest."

  ***

  The next morning, they breakfasted in the dim light: sunlight barely peeked through the clouds. By evening, the skies promised a blizzard. It had also gotten noticeably colder, the frost so sharp that even warm scarves and fur cloaks barely helped. The travelers followed Dob, climbing further into the land of snow and stone, toward the dark silhouette of the Fire-Breathing Mountain, which loomed ahead in all its ominous grandeur.

  Their first expedition seemed like a strange, vague dream now. It was a long and dangerous journey through the Olmaer mountains… but here, under an ashen sky, wading knee-deep through prickly, hard snow, Kairu thought of those days as filled with happiness. And as he followed Dob upward, toward the dark mountain peaks, he recalled the beginning of his journey with a deep and abiding sorrow that had long taken root in his heart.

  The lower slopes were dotted with small groves, pine forests, and sometimes they passed beneath the trees into the realm of twilight—the faint daylight barely lit the trail. Dob knew these lands, but moved cautiously, and in his every alert movement was something Kairu had never noticed in their guide before—fear. His unease spread to the others, but the end of the road came as a complete surprise. Dob stopped and pointed ahead with his bow:

  "We’ve arrived."

  Kairu flinched and froze, because ahead of them, amidst the trees, emerged the cold white silhouette of a massive marble statue.

  It was a youth carved from stone, towering a good ten feet above his pedestal. He was wrapped in a long cloak with the hood thrown back, holding a spear in one hand and a rune with an unknown symbol in the other. His indifferent white eyes stared past the travelers into the distance, toward the icy desert. Some unclear inscription could be seen on the pedestal.

  "Vaimos!" Dob murmured, approaching the statue and slowly sinking to his knees.

  The others moved forward slowly, surrounding the pedestal, which was buried deep in the frozen ground and covered with snow. Konrad squatted down and traced the hieroglyphs of the ancient Nocturn language with a thin finger:

  "Seek, and you shall find. Struggle, and the light of victory shall descend upon you. And whoever you are, who has come to kneel before the great Vaimos, know this: his blessing is given to the brave. Step upon the path of wisdom and offer your gifts as a sign of readiness for battle."

  "What do they want from us?" Viggo asked. "I'm sick of these riddles..."

  "It's simple," Konrad muttered, rising. "We must offer a gift. Something that pleases the great Vaimos and proves your courage."

  "And what would that be?" Yuffilis looked at him in confusion.

  Konrad and Ashley exchanged glances, and the sorceress slowly said:

  "I... remember... some kind of plant..."

  "Fire-weed," Dob spoke up. "Druids burn it during rituals dedicated to Vaimos."

  "I still have fire-weed," said Ashley, and this time all eyes turned to her. "An extremely rare ingredient… but nevertheless used in alchemy. And it grows only on the slopes of volcanoes. One moment." She reached into the bag at her side, the one she never parted with. She rummaged through vials and boxes for a long time, and finally pulled out a small flask containing dark powder. Kairu held his breath as she uncorked it and brushed the snow from the pedestal.

  "Ashley, you’re a miracle," Yuffilis said emotionally. "Dob, what now?"

  The druid looked at him solemnly. He was still kneeling and didn’t dare raise his head to look at the statue's face.

  "Now, we must show respect. Pray."

  "What nonsense," Rita scoffed, but Konrad tugged at her sleeve.

  "Show respect for others' customs," he said quietly but firmly, and was the first to kneel beside Dob. The others followed suit—some reluctantly, others out of curiosity. For about a minute, they knelt in silence, heads bowed, hearing only the distant sound of the wind. Then Dob slowly raised his head.

  "Generally speaking, it's not proper to disturb Vaimos without a major holiday," he said softly. "But you're taking the risk upon yourselves. Stay silent and still. When I give the signal, you’ll burn some fire-weed and scatter the ashes."

  He slowly stood, took something resembling a small bone drum with a taut leather membrane from his hunting bag, and began to shake it and tap the membrane with his palm, setting a slow rhythm. He walked around the statue in a circle and began to sing softly in deep, guttural tones. The others stood motionless, enchanted, feeling the melody draw them into a trance. Dob completed another circle, came up to Ashley, and nodded to her without stopping the singing or drumming.

  Ashley gently poured a small handful of crushed leaves onto the white marble. At that moment, a deathly silence fell, and only Dob’s whispering voice remained, his eyes closed. The wind howled high above in the frosty sky, bringing the mournful howl of snow wolves… The sorceress raised her hand, shielding the flame that flickered between her fingers.

  The powder ignited instantly, a crimson flame burst forth, and only a gray pile remained on the marble. A sharp scent filled the air. Dob continued drumming, singing, and swaying. The rhythm seemed to quicken.

  Ashley scooped up the gray dust and blew it from her hand, scattering it into the wind. In the silence that followed, Kairu held his breath as he saw the symbols on the pedestal and the rune in the statue’s hand turn crimson. A wild gust of wind struck, and the ashes in the air turned into a myriad of golden sparks, which began to swirl above the ground in a dance, forming a shimmering shroud around Vaimos. Then the sparks thickened and formed the shape of a bird flapping its wings… Dob froze, fell silent, and dropped to his knees. Kairu trembled, unable to move. He had never seen anything like it.

  Then the sparks flared brilliantly and vanished. A falcon settled on the statue’s shoulder and let out a loud cry. Dob swayed as if in a trance and opened his eyes.

  "Of course," Yuffilis murmured. "A falcon… The hunters’ bird…"

  "Why have you come here and disturbed my slumber, pilgrims?!" thundered a voice.

  Kairu jerked in surprise and spun around until he realized the voice was not imagined. It came from the bird. Dob collapsed face down into the snow and covered his head with his hands.

  "I am Scarlet, the spirit of Vaimos," the falcon continued, flapping its wings and looking down at the stunned travelers. "Speak, pilgrims!"

  "We need something that does not belong to Vaimos," Konrad answered suddenly, as if waking from a dream. "I need Octarus, the Great Star. You guard it."

  Somewhere far off, a sound like thunder rolled, though there could be no storm in early January. Scarlet laughed loudly:

  "That is the greatest of gifts mortals have ever dared to claim! Did you truly think that something guarded for millennia would come to you freely? Vaimos favors the brave—prove yourself worthy of this honor, human!"

  "All per the ‘Vaimarakirian’," muttered the monk, glancing at Yuffilis. The latter looked at Kairu in confusion.

  "Do not test my patience, human!" the falcon thundered.

  "We agree," said Kairu, his throat dry. "What does Vaimos require?"

  "Find the path to the Altar of Fire," the falcon replied. "Once, my mortal body was buried there, but my loyal followers, who died defending me, never found peace. They roam the sanctuary as restless spirits… If you can free them from this fate, so they may return and guard me in the afterlife, I shall grant you the Star, as the greatest of heroes. You are lucky, treasure hunter. Do you accept my bargain?"

  "Yes," Kairu said quickly. Konrad sighed in resignation. "We agree. Wait for us — we will not fail you."

  "You are lucky," repeated the falcon. "Then go forth!"

  "Let’s go," Yuffilis said quietly.

  Scarlet shrieked piercingly and soared into the sky, dissolving into golden sparks that faded in the air. Everything around turned gray, and the clearing was engulfed in mist. Kairu squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. Then the gray veil suddenly vanished, and the travelers once again saw only the forest, the mountain slopes, and the white statue…

  "I knew it," Yuffilis muttered. "Retrieve a sacred artifact of the ancient Nocturns without descending into some dark dungeon? Not a chance. Well, Dob, will you lead us to the Altar of Fire?"