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

“Yes?”

“Since you’re still without a mount, you ought to pick someone to ride with. The cart is for luggage only!”

Ash looked down, feeling as if he had forgotten something again, though he was sure that it had something to do with this mount. While he pondered, the rest of the group started discussing who will be the unlucky one to have to share their saddle.

Not paying attention to them, Ash closed his eyes, grabbed his staff, and raised it slightly above the ground.

Chapter 13

T he wind blew, playing with the hem of his tattered cloak. The sun shone a bit brighter, making the armor peeking out of the crates on the cart glitter like diamonds. The group continued arguing, finding the most ridiculous and absurd reasons for why they shouldn’t be the ones to share their saddle. And Ash... Ash stood still, face devoid of any trace of his usual childishness.

Finally, he slammed his staff into the ground. There was a clink, like hitting a crystal glass with a spoon to announce a toast. The group fell silent, watching as tiny circles detached themselves from the mage’s staff. Unlike circles made by pebbles tossed into a lake, these didn’t fade away over time. When they reached the forest, they shook the trees, scaring away birds and small animals.

“What are you doing?” Tul asked, a little concerned.

None of them had ever seen or heard of a Word that could ripple the grass and trees as if they were water. They moved their bewildered gazes back to Ash who was grinning and licking breadcrumbs from the corners of his mouth

“So,” Mary said calmly, bringing them back to the original topic. “Ash, you will ride with—”

“Guido!” he interrupted, waving his hand in greeting.

From the direction of the forest emerged a powerful horse, similar to those often represented on paintings of the most epic battles. It rushed toward them, black mane glistening on the sun like an inky waterfall, contrasting sharply with the pale gray of its hair. On its forehead was a black spot resembling in its shape a wolf’s head. It ran so fast that one could barely track the movement of its legs, but you could still see the muscles rippling under its skin, and chest heaving with every movement.

Ignoring the neighs of its frightened cousins and stunned gasps of the rest of the group, it halted beside its old friend. It nudged the young man with its snout and then laid its head on his shoulder. Smiling, Ash sank his hands into the majestic mane and scratched Guido’s head.

“So? What do you think?” he asked the stunned Lari. “This is Guido. My horse.”

“You call that a horse?!” Mary exclaimed. “Why does it have fangs?!”

Ash turned to look at Guido, whose fangs were so big and strong that it could tear out a bear’s throat. On the horse’s menu were not only bears but also lynxes, foxes, rabbits, badgers, wolverines, and other inhabitants of the forest.

“Wolves raised him,” Ash replied, jumping onto Guido’s back.

“That’s dumb,” Blackbeard snorted. “They don’t raise horses, they eat them.”

“And yet, there are stories of wolves raising human children,” Ash replied. “What’s to stop them from raising a horse?”

“...nothing, I suppose,” Alice whispered barely audibly. She was shy around new people, no matter if they were human or not.

“Right? I saved Guido when he was a foal and asked a pack of wolves to raise him as their own.”

“You can talk to animals?” Mary asked in surprise.

“I can,” Ash mumbled and lowered his gaze, realizing that he had said a bit too much. “I know a couple of Words, but that’s it.”

“It may come in handy,” she said thoughtfully.

According to legends, mages could talk to just about everything that existed in this universe if, of course, they knew the right Word. However, in reality, rare were those who went beyond learning how to communicate with a couple of objects. Mages mostly talked with weapons. After all, there was no better companion on the road than a trusty blade.

If Ash was a druid, him knowing some beast Words wouldn’t be all that surprising, but he was a mage. However, this fact somehow slipped Mary’s mind.

“Wait,” she suddenly said, “will he attack our horses?”

“Of course not! He’s well-mannered! Aren’t you, Guido?”

Guido let out a low growl of affirmation, scaring its relatives who started to anxiously bite on their reins.

“If he does anything, you’ll be the one to blame!” Mary snapped. “All right, boys and girls, we’ll be riding without stopping until nightfall. We’ve given the rest of the groups a big head start, so we have a lot of catching up to do!”

“Aye!” the group responded in unison and spurred their horses.

“No racing today,” Ash whispered to Guido who snorted in frustration and stomped the ground with his right hoof. “I’m sorry, my friend. However, there are dangers and adventures ahead, so look forward to those...”

Guido neighed with joy and menace — for both Ash and him, one of the best pleasures in life was a good fight.

With another neigh, Guido took off. In a matter of seconds, he caught up with the rest of the group. Unfortunately for the Wandering Stumps, they had no idea just what they had gotten themselves into when they decided to accept Ash into their ranks.

Two days later

Lari took a stick and poked Ash in the thigh. The mage staggered, then collapsed, causing everyone present to burst out laughing.

“All right, break time,” he said, offering Ash his hand so that he could get up.

“Meanie,” the mage muttered.

Waving the offered hand away, he lay down on the grass. Covered in sweat and panting, he stared at the sky, arms outstretched, and head full of cotton. The azure seemed so far away that even