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

Irmaril in the midday. For each gift, he offered advice in exchange, often so effective and wise that it would change the course of history and the flow of time. I, the only of the colored dragons, could not, even in my wildest dreams, imagine that what he would say to me would change my life. We sat down as if we were equals and had a conversation. I have never had a talk as engrossing and memorable as that one. It has been almost ten thousand years, and I remember it as if it were only a moment ago. Even I, Hu-Chin, lowered my head in farewell to him.”

Recalling the statues of the said stage that he had seen in the monastery, Ash couldn’t believe that that dried-up old man could’ve been so important that he’d make someone as proud as Hu-Chin bow his head.

“At the end of our conversation, Liao-Fen mentioned that our people would soon perish. I was enraged and wanted to run away from the Feast to assist the Girtai, but the sage stopped me and poured me more wine. I could not believe my eyes. Whatever the priests have told you, mage, do not take their word for it. The Gods are mortal. As soon as their people die, so do they. But Liao-Fen was not afraid of death, no. I thought it was cowardly, although, in the end, I tainted myself with a despicable vice. After all, if the Girtai are no more, who would bring sacrifices to me?! Who would make me stronger and glorify my name?!

Who will I be the guardian of?! Bare rocks and empty roads?!” In his rage, Hu-Chin failed to notice how the walls of the cave began to melt. “Liao-Feng ignored my questions. He leaned toward me,” the dragon, with its amber eyes flashing, leaned to the frozen Ash, “took a deep breath,” the dragon took a breath, too, making the pebbles scattered on the ground shake, “and bestowed upon me a wisdom he did not bestow even upon the Jade Emperor.”

And then Hu-Chin told Ash the words that became the basics of Liao-Fen’s teachings, but were hidden even from the oldest monks of Mt. Mok-Pu. Hearing these simple words, Ash grew pale. Fear blurred his vision and grasped his mind, making him dizzy and nauseous. Everything suddenly seemed so fragile, so unimportant, and so ephemeral. He felt that if he were to touch something, it’d crumble to dust. That if he sneezed, he’d tear a hole in the fabric of space and time.

While the mage shivered, unable to lift his forehead off the floor, the dragon straightened up. The wings unfolded and three powerful claws touched the ground. The whiskers floated through the air like grass in a stream, the eyes flashed, and blue sparks danced on the forked tongue. The pearl, clutched in the fourth paw, glowed with a steady, bluish glow.

“That the last lesson,” Hu-Chin rumbled.

It was in that moment that Ash realized that the dragon knew everything. Leaping to his feet, the mage slammed his staff against the ground. A cloak woven from the wind’s memories flew out of the wall and landed on his shoulder. His eyes met the amber ones and a battle ensued, thundering across the Heavens, earth, and water.

When the chaos settled down, there were only ash and Ash. 

Chapter 53

1st Day of the Month of Lust, 322. A.D., the Foothills

A sh reached into the small travel bag strapped to his belt and found the shard of a pearl. The great dragon, Hu-Chin, the Blue Flame, the Master of the Eastern Reach, the Sage, the Patron of the Girtai, and one of the Colored Dragons. All those pompous names seemed to serve the purpose of warning the adventurer of the dragon’s power, and yet Ash had defeated him. The pearl pricked his finger, making him pull his hand out of the bag. A drop of blood slid down the frostbitten skin, covered with a thin crust of ice, and shone like a newly cut ruby.

The truth was that Ash didn’t defeat the dragon. He knew that he’d never be a match for someone like Hu-Chin. But we shall let you in on a secret that even the bards don’t know, dear reader, and that is that the young man had tricked the dragon. How? Well, that’s a story for another day.

“Come to think of it,” Lari muttered, snapping Ash out of his thoughts, “didn’t we agree not to go into cursed castles ever again?”

“Technically,” Blackbeard said, “it’s not cursed, it’s enchanted.”

“LIKE THAT MAKES IT ANY BETTER!”

“Here we go again...” Tul sighed, patting Lari on the shoulder. “Ah, the things they teach you in modern schools...”

“You’re three years younger than me!” Lari protested.

The archer shrugged and smiled sympathetically. The rest of the group snickered, and Lari blushed with anger. Ash just shook his head.

Snow crunched under his feet. The gray sky, like a lid of a coffin, kept pressing on them. The wind, sometimes howling among the sharp peaks, could barely be felt in the realm of Anna’Bre. Ash wished he could turn around and spend a few more days looking for another way out of the gorge, but he had no right to protest. Mary fearlessly led her party straight to the lair of the ice queen.

The party wandered through the frozen garden of the enchanted castle. Alice would often make Mary worry by stopping near the sculptures and admiring them for a long time. No one except her seemed willing to stay longer in this frozen wasteland, busy thinking of what legends and songs their new adventure would inspire, and fame it’d attract. However, no one seemed to be thinking about the fact that they’d need to survive the said adventure first.

Few were those who had encountered a powerful entity like Anna’Bre, and