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

Garangan looked up from his papers and stared at Mary. Having made up his mind, the king pulled the silk cord. The bell rang and one of the most famous sailors appeared from the secret door — Suren Lodos, the only native Ernite who achieved the highest state position of an admiral. There was only one problem — Suren had been missing for almost thirty years. It was said that he had sailed west. Allegedly, he wanted to find the mythical second continent, but disappeared in the depths of the sea.

“Mary, how would you like to go to the western mainland with the Ternites and Ernites that Suren and I have selected?”

A week later, flower meadow, the foothills of the Mazurana Mountains

Ash sat buried in the flowers. For the past six months, he was actively engaged in his small business. He grew and sold flowers, earning just enough to buy a loaf of bread and a hunk of spoiled cheese. But this didn’t discourage him — he wanted to rest a little before going on a new adventure. His heart was pleasantly warmed by a little metal disc with the insignia of the Stray Stumps.

He straightened up, cracked his neck, and turned his face to the spring wind.

“Caw!”

On the porch of the run-down house, too large to be called a barn, but also too small to be proudly called a house, sat an eyeless raven.

“Caw!”

With a flutter of its inky wings, the raven soared into the sky and quickly disappeared among the white, fluffy clouds.

Ash knew whose messenger the midnight bird was — the First Master had expressed his displeasure with Ash’s behavior.

“Oh, those conservative geezers,” the young mage mumbled to himself, shaking his head.

Just as he was about to lie back down to the ground, he felt something brush against him, and then saw an envelope fall from the clutches of a mechanized pigeon. Ash unfolded it, read the message, and smiled broadly. The Stumps wanted him to go on a new journey with them. And not just anywhere — but to the western mainland. Ash had traveled (or rather ran through) all of Mormanon, so he didn’t need to think twice before making up his mind.

He immediately remembered the name of the inn where they were to meet at the beginning of the summer — The Nimble Goose.

The wind began to blow, and the sky turned black for a moment.

“What is it now?” Ash lamented, sensing the presence of some otherworldly entity. “I’m not expecting guests today!”

“Master,” the swaying grass whispered.

“Ash,” the wind sang.

“Ash,” the trees creaked.

“Show yourself!” the mage barked.

A staff flew into his outstretched hand, and a blue flame flashed at the end of it. Ash sensed something incomprehensibly great and inexplicably powerful in the presence of the entity.

“Listen to the will of the Heavens,” the grass sang again.

“Show yourself!” Ash struck the ground with his staff and a wave of magic swept across the meadow.

“The Gods command you, Master,” the wind whispered. “The Gods forbid you.”

“Show yourself!” Ash shouted for the third time, and struck again with his staff. But the presence was still hiding in the leaves, the flowers, and the wind.

“Stay home. Forget the letter. The Gods forbid you. The Jasper Emperor forbids you.”

“Forbid me?!”

Ash’s eyes flashed with a fury that no mortal had ever seen before. Ash raised his staff high and drove it hard into the ground. A column of blue fire struck the sky. A wave of magic bent the distant trunks and turned the dilapidated house into splinters.

A small divine, a messenger of the Seventh Heaven, fell out of the wind. Looking like a teen dressed in brocade and velvet, he looked around in fear. Trying to escape, he suddenly realized that he was being held tightly by the throat.

“Tell your Gods,” Ash’s voice rang like thunder, and the fury in his eyes burned like fire, “that I’d rather declare war on them than obey.”

“Fool!” the divine squeaked, held by the power of mortal magic. “He’s... the... Jade Emperor...”

“To hell with him!” Ash snapped. “To hell with the Seventh Heaven and the Magistrate! The Gods have no power over me! Let them know!”

The divine, having bitten the mage, wiggled out of the grip and with a frightened cry rushed to the sky, taking with him the letter.

Calming down, Ash spat over his shoulder and began to get ready for the journey. Another big adventure was waiting for him.

Two months later

Ash was walking down the road to Relakan — a city on the southeast coast famous for the fact that it was the home of the outcasts and the scum of society. Brigands, bounty hunters, Ternites, heretics, bandits, and pirates. In fact, Relakan was a pirate port, which made Ash wonder why did his friends agreed to meet here.

However, all his worries were gone the moment he smelled the sweet aroma of his favorite drink. There was now nothing in his head but the taste of rum.

***

“By the seas an’ the storms!” swore the boatswain, who sat on the left of a tall, cloaked figure with a wide-brimmed hat.

In the Nimble Goose, even the bartender smelled of sea salt, blood, and hot steel. It was here that all the pirates of the Seven Seas, as well as those who wanted to become them, gathered. So the fact that the oak tables, nailed to the floor with heavy nails, accommodated a wide variety of people.

“To ‘ell with all ye!” the boatswain continued. “Kill’d by a landlubber’s bullet! A drink ta Ragged, but ‘e left us without our mage! May ‘e dance wit’ Davy Jones!”

“I doubt that we’ll find a suitable replacement here,” said the quartermaster and cleared his throat.

“Aye,” the boatswain agreed. “Sea take