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

he was defiling the palace with his own hands by stealing bits of it, the guards only smiled at the mage’s little tricks. As did everyone else.

“Hello,” someone greeted him.

Ash almost stumbled. This “someone” had bark for hair and skin. It had sprouted mushrooms, on which sleeping butterflies were now resting. Instead of a beard, they had a waterfall of thick, green moss, and their eyes were as clear as the lake that had previously attracted Ash’s attention.

“Hello,” he whispered back, perplexed.

The person smiled. Ash could’ve sworn that they had acorns for teeth.

“What brings you to our humble home?” they asked.

“I... have no idea,” the mage replied in bewilderment, observing the guests. “I think that the king wanted to see me.”

“Is that so?” they asked in surprise.

“I’m as surprised as you were,” Ash said, still whispering. “Why would he want to see me?”

The person nodded, their head and hair creaking.

“Could it be that it’s because you’re the only one among humans who can talk to the little spirits?”

“I can talk to fairies?”

“They say that you can.”

“Then tell the king that I’m sorry but I need to leave immediately!”

Ash was about to make a mad dash for the exit, eager to get to know the flower fairies better, but was stopped by a burst of merry laughter. Everyone around him was smiling, and some even pointed and slapped their knees. And although he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, Ash was smart enough to put two and two together.

Turning around, he bowed low to the elven king. The man put his arm around the mage’s shoulders and straightened him up, as if he weren’t a man, but a limp twig.

“It’s not customary to bow,” he said warmly. “You’re our guest, Master of a Thousand Words. Taste our wines and our fine food, and dance until you can dance no more!”

The guests clapped, but the applause faded away very soon.

With the rustling of her green dress, the elven princess stepped into the hall. She held herself with pride and walked with confidence, but there was no trace of arrogance in her step. Her gaze and smile were warm and kind, but they were far from naive. The silkiness of her hair and radiance of her skin made her more beautiful than any jewelry ever could. Perfect in every form, Ash couldn’t help but admire her. After all, let’s not forget, the mage adored everything beautiful.

Stopping by the throne, she made a curtsey. Her movements were so smooth and elegant that they were almost hypnotizing.

“My dear,” the king whispered, touching her cheek with his lips.

Looking at them, Ash felt like he’d give his life to spend a day in the old man’s shoes. Racker had once offered to introduce him to the “finest joys of life” but Ash refused, saying that the final battle was more important than anything he had to show him. During his stay in the monastery and with Hu Chin, he had no time to think about women, so it was no wonder that was surprised by the sudden blush that overcame him.

“And you are...?”

“Ash,” he replied, red-faced.

“Just Ash?” By the Gods and Spirits, it was for the sake of such smiles that heroes went into battle.

“Just Ash,” he said, almost stuttering.

What happened after that, he remembered vaguely. The king opened the feast, and the hall was drowned in joy and laughter. Tables sprouted from the floor, where the fairies brought a variety of dishes. Despite the fact that the elves were known as vegetarians, they provided hundreds of meat dishes for their guests. The wine, so light that it looked more like juice, was as fragrant as mead. Ash was seated at one of the tables, and the princess sat nearby.

She conversed with him and laughed, and he didn’t dare open his mouth. He listened to music and voices, enjoying the lady’s company. And then the music started.

“Just Ash,” the princess said faintly, “do you dance?”

Never before had the mage been so sorry that he had skipped court dance lessons, preferring to read legends in the gazebo at the edge of the garden.

“No,” he almost cried.

“Follow me,” the lady said, pulling him away from the table.

“But I can’t!” he protested. Stronger than his desire to hold the beautiful lady to him was the fear of embarrassing himself in front of her.

Despite the fact that Ash wasn’t all that tall, the princess had to stand on tiptoe to reach his ear.

“No one can dance, but everyone does,” she whispered.

In the end, the mage allowed himself to be dragged to the dance floor. In five minutes and one stepped on toe later, Ash could teach the most refined courtiers how to dance. After all, when he wanted to, Ash could learn anything.

One dance later

They were standing on the balcony. Ash felt as if he were perched on a ship’s mast, staring out at the endless sea. The crowns of the forest closed in, protecting them from the cold and leaving only coolness, but from this height, they looked like a serene, sleeping sea. The lady went on with her story. Ash had said no more than ten words all evening, but she spoke more than enough for both of them.

She was telling Ash about some mysterious land where giants lived. And about those where dragons guarded the towers, where evil magicians have imprisoned the real fairies — charming sorceresses, if the legends were to be believed, who could fulfill three wishes. Thousands of other lands and dales were featured in the stories of the elven princess. In them, lamias danced with the wind, satyrs chased dryads, griffins soared freely with the eagles, basilisks waited for unwary travelers, and ogres knocked on the gates of castles with their huge clubs.