The Reign of Magic. Wolf Awert
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Название: The Reign of Magic

Автор: Wolf Awert

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

Серия: Pentamuria

isbn: 9783959591713

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ a chaos of soul and spirit.

      Dakh began to worry about him, but he kept it concealed. “You are being tormented by either premonitions or memories,” the druid said. “But as long as you forget what you dreamed I cannot help you. Perhaps something in your past is causing these dreams, these memories.”

      Nill told Dakh about the encounter with the demon. “That mess of dream and reality is the strongest memory I have. Esara told me something about a mid-realm, but I didn’t understand what she meant. It’s something between this world and the Other World.”

      Dakh sighed. “We will take a small detour. I know someone who might be able to help you.”

      They moved towards the morning sun. The loneliness of the landscape had passed. Again and again they came across single huts or small houses that Dakh evasively led them around. Before long the huts were replaced by large farm houses, and the very next day they saw their first village from afar. The villages now either stood visibly on the hilltops, from which one had a good vantage point to see the lands all around, or they hid near springs where the water flowed clear and fresh. Nill was looking forward to some human interaction and a soft, warm bed after days in the wilderness, but Dakh avoided the settlements, too.

      “We need to go there,” Dakh-Ozz-Han said, pointing towards a dark spot in the middle of all the green. Nill squinted at it and could make out a few leather-bound poles offering some shelter from the weather in front of an earthen cave.

      “Someone actually lives there?” Nill asked skeptically. He was used to Spartan conditions, but this was not even a tent, let alone a hut.

      “He does not ask for much and lives alone. He has been there for many years.”

      “Who?”

      “His name is Urumir and he claims to be a shaman.”

      “Is he?”

      “You can be the judge of that.”

      Nill’s curiosity was kindled. All he knew about shaman came from a few sentences Dakh had dropped on him during their journey. Nill had been satisfied with knowing that shaman knew magic and could travel from this world to the Other World. He quickened his pace instinctively and his heart beat noticeably faster in his chest.

      Nill wondered what powers a shaman might have, and he felt strangely torn between his fear of an unknown might and the desire to bear witness to it.

      They reached the strange home and Dakh sat down on a stone quite naturally. Nill looked around, somewhat helplessly, and sat down on the earth. After a few moments of silence he asked: “Will we wait long before the shaman comes? Is he here or are we waiting for him?”

      “He is here. Can you not feel him? We are waiting for him, yes, but to welcome us.”

      Nill let his senses wander around the place and his eyes came to rest on the leather straps holding the poles to the stone wall.

      “Well, if it isn’t Dakh, the eternal estray.”

      Dakh-Ozz-Han stood up, turned around and very carefully embraced the strange figure, whose clothing of fur and leather was barely visible under the mass of dancing feathers, bones, teeth and claws.

      “You have a bothersome idea of eternity, little Urumir. But I am happy to see you. Alas, I cannot greet you properly for fear of breaking one of your sacred quills.”

      “And I thought your care was for my old bones.” Urumir laughed. “Now you won’t believe me, but I don’t know to this day whether the trinkets I carry are actually magical, or if I’m still just covered in them because my master told me to all those years ago.”

      “You’re right: I don’t believe you.” Now the druid was laughing too. “If you cannot see the value of an item, who can?”

      Nill stood next to the two old friends and felt strangely excluded. “Little Urumir” was at least a head and a half taller than the druid and looked ancient compared to Dakh. Urumir’s face was a labyrinth of leathery wrinkles strapped carelessly over a skeletal skull. Despite his great height his body was bent almost double, and Urumir could not walk more than a few steps without the aid of his staff. He had to be incredibly old.

      “But you are not alone, my old friend, how unusual.”

      “We live in unusual times, little Urumir. The boy here next to me is named Nill and is going to Ringwall to learn the magics.”

      The shaman gave Nill a searching look. “So, then, Nill. A strange name. Not a name to be forgotten quickly and not a name to be chosen easily. Perhaps the name chose the bearer for itself? You have a turbulent time coming your way.” The shaman gave a bleating laugh. “Well, whatever the circumstances of your name, be welcome in my home.” Urumir turned back to Dakh. “I saw you coming yesterday. The food is nearly done. Sit by the fire if you would.”

      Nill did not understand and scratched his head. The sound of it disturbed the silent interludes between the men’s sentences. Nill felt slightly embarrassed, but the old men seemed to have a different sense of hearing to him.

      Where had the shaman been if he had really seen them coming more than a day ago? Nill was certain that he had arrived after they had been here. He could not have been waiting in his cave. Nill sighed quietly. He doubted he would ever understand the ways of magic and its wielders.

      Around the fire, which was situated on a flat piece of the hill, lay a few chopped-up tree trunks that served as benches quite well. The shaman gave each of them a wooden bowl full of thick, creamy soup. They ate in silence. Like all men of nature they were not of many words, and tasty food was always worth their full attention.

      Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Nill, putting his patience to the test, Dakh laid down his bowl. “Warming and filling. We need the strength, because the near future will be rough.”

      The shaman nodded in silent agreement. “The world is restless. Something is coming, and nobody knows what it is.”

      “Which world do you mean, old friend?” Dakh asked the shaman.

      He gave another short, bleating laugh. “Both, Great druid. Both.”

      Nill felt a shiver run down his spine. That had not been a humorous laugh and the “Great druid” had not been a joke, either.

      “Urumir, we have come to you because Nill has been dreaming unhealthy dreams. And also because something is happening around him that I cannot understand. Perhaps we will be lucky and you can see something in the past or the future.”

      “Can shaman see the future?” Nill asked.

      “Yes and no, my young friend. We belong to the riders of time. But we tend to get lost in it. We never know when and rarely where we are. It’s a pointless gift. Who could possibly want to know their future?”

      “Me,” Nill burst out, and both men laughed. Nill frowned. He did not like being laughed at.

      “Shaman visit the Other World, the world of shadows, of the dead, of spirits. They have access to a magic that has something to do with the very making of the world, something we druids know nothing of,” said Dakh. “I hope he can help us.”

      Nill СКАЧАТЬ