Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story, Kirill Klevanski [great reads .TXT] 📗

trusting of their own vision. The wind whipped the white petals, whirling them along with the sparkling snowflakes. Sometimes, with a strong gust, the branches creaked, shaking off icicles. The roots, thick as the branches of the Tree of Peace, hung over the chasm, breaking through the granite and defying the fury of the winter. Black as snakes, they wrapped themselves around the peak, clinging to it.

“I’ll be damned...” Lari gasped in a bewilderment. “It’s Ar’valon.”

Alice, coming closer, ran her fingers along the icy trunk. As if responding to her touch, the tree shivered. However, Ash seemed to be the only one to hear the soft whisper of the white petals.

The young girl closed her eyes and repeated the rhyme she had heard many times before.

On the slope of mountains steep

In the slumbering Graven’dor deep

In the dreams of Anna’Bre

Twice dead, she must be

Eternal Ar’Valon you shall see

Ash watched with a smile as the faces of his companions lit up with greed for treasure and glory. It was unlikely that among the adventurers born near the eastern border of the Thirteen Kingdoms, there was anyone who hadn’t heard about the ancient castle.

“A magic tree, yes...” Tul nodded, having come back to his senses. “But why are we staring at it?”

Surprised by the question, Ash remembered that Tul, being from the northern lands, had never heard about this.

“It’s Ar’Valon!” Mary exclaimed, her hands trembling with anticipation or because of her nerves.

“Ar... What?”

“Ar’Valon!” Blackbeard repeated, slowly recovering from the shock. “An ancient magic tree, left behind by the druids from the Age of the Dancing Dragons. According to legend, when Anna’Bre captured Graven’Dor and banished the Order of the Magi out of it, they left a clue for the future adventures on how to find her. A guiding star, if you will. In fact, in the old dialect, ‘ar’valon’ means ‘that which points the way.’ If I recall correctly, that is.”

“I didn’t know you liked old languages,” Ash said, surprised, for he could only speak Common, to say nothing of its many dialects.

Blackbeard just shrugged, as if to say: “I’m so mysterious and knowledgeable.”

“But if it points the way,” Lari said, coming up to the slope and raising his hand to his eyes so that he could peer out at the icy wasteland, “where the hell is it pointing? There’s nothing here but snow and rocks! It’s bullshit”

The Stumps, taken aback by the appearance of a piece of an old legend, didn’t pay attention to his curses. Not believing him, they rushed to the edge themselves, but didn’t see majestic spires or the marvelous palace described in many stories. Below, under the mountain side, the wind was still howling through the empty gorge.

“It’s always like this...” Tul sighed. “Legends are just tales...”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Blackbeard said, but his eyes contrasted his words. Even a fool would’ve known that he wanted to make a profit from this venture. “After all, they say that Anna’Bre guards the treasure. In all honesty, I don’t wanna be turned into a popsicle again.”

“Yes, to hell with it!” Mary shouted, gripping the hilt of her saber so tightly that the brass shields on her gauntlets cracked.

The Stumps looked at each other, and, as one, took a step back. If their leader refused to go treasure hunting, then whatever lurked in these ruins had to be really dangerous if even the ever-greedy Mary wanted no part of it. She had once tried to arrange a bounty hunt on Esh, so it was easy to see that she wasn’t the one to get scared easily.

“Them aside, what if the castle hides a passage to the Fiery Mountains?”

The group let out a sigh of relief and took a step forward. As Ash realized during his time spent in this group, if Mary put anything above profit, then she was sure of success of her mission.

“You’re not afraid of Anna’Bre?” Ash asked and frowned.

“To hell with her, too!” Mary shouted. “We’re in a hurry!” She snatched the telescope from Tul’s hand and began to look carefully around the gorge. “Where the hell is that damn castle...?”

Ash turned to the tree. Whispering something, he held out his hand. Another gust of wind tore a bud from the branch and brought it to his open palm. The petals were so warm that they could keep one warm if tucked in the breast pocket of a jacket. Ash sighed and realized that he had no right to hide this from the Stumps. As much as he was afraid of the ice witch, it seemed like he’d have to set foot into her domain.

If your soul and heart of courage are made

take a flower from this glade

And if to the laws of Heavens you abide

let the magic be your guide

 

After listening to the rhyme, Mary snatched the flower from Ash’s hands and began to shake it so violently that he was afraid that she’d lose her balance and fall off the cliff. The Stumps didn’t react. They would’ve eaten the flower if that would get them to where they needed to be.

“Why isn’t it working?!” she cried.

“A second...” Ash smiled. “I’ll show you...”

Coming closer, he leaned forward a little so that his lips almost touched Mary’s. She almost took a step back in surprise and even blushed, but Ash had already whispered something to the flower in her hands. Mary would swear that the petals were moving in time with the whispering.

Ash closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the cold air, and then exhaled. The wind whirled and danced, playing with the snowflakes. The Stumps covered their faces, hiding their skin from the gust that brought sharp ice needles with it. When they could see again, they felt their jaws open in surprise.

The wind