A Song of Askaldenfirsts and Dragons. Part six: The death

Carlfrig and his army reached Hoogmeerfall. A moderate wind was blowing and it was snowing. They barely made it in time for the arrival of winter. A week later the roads would have been covered with snow, and the karkhashes would not have been able to pass.

Carlfrig dismounted and saw a giant bone in the snow, he looked at it and realized that it was the bone of a dragon. And, despite the snow, it was clear that the houses were destroyed and only ruins remained of the small town.

“What happened here?” Carlfrig wondered.

“I don’t know, stormentan,” the soldier standing next to him replied.

Suddenly long streams of dark smoke appeared from somewhere. And they were moving toward Carlfrig and his army. And after a few seconds, one smoke hit Carlfrig’s chest, and stormentan felt strange, he grabbed his chest and fumbled for a hole, his fingers felt more blood, and then he fell dead.

Streams of smoke passed through the northerners and karkhashes, leaving holes in them, and hundreds of soldiers and animals fell one by one. Their padded fur armor did not save them.

Jamashar rode in the rearguard of the army this time, chatting with one woman northerner. The old man chose to travel on a karkhash, and his wagon with books was driven by a snunorf soldier. All of them, with a few soldiers and officers, closed the formation. They were chatting when something incomprehensible began to happen, and the foot soldiers in front of them just began to fall one by one. And the riders in front could not be seen because of the falling snow.

The shadows-smokes were so fast that Jamashar and the junior officers had no time to dismount, and the karkhashes had no time to be frightened, and the smokes cut through their bodies that the animals fell and knocked down their riders.

“What was that?” Jamashar shouted, he was crushed by a karkhash.

“I don’t know,” replied his companion, a beautiful young brunette, a loitnentan (her officer rank). She was lying on the snow. She jumped up, drawing her sword.

Jamashar tried to get out from under the karkhash, but could not, then he turned and saw that the shadow-smoke was passing through the risen soldiers and they were falling. Someone was trying to swing his sword, cutting through the air, but the shadow-smoke did not suffer in any way. Jamashar stopped moving and pretended to be dead. He closed his eyes so he would not be frightened and give himself away. And he heard the body of the loitnentan woman fall nearby.

“Shall we start eating here, brother, or shall we go back there?” asked a strange voice with an accent unfamiliar to the old man.

“Let’s go back, sister, maybe there are survivors left there,” replied another strange voice.

Jamashar felt the snow falling on his face; he forced himself to open his eyes. He looked around and saw only dead bodies. The old man began to try again to get out from under the karkhash and this time he succeeded.

Jamashar rushed away along the partly snow-covered road to the south. He tried to run, constantly looking back, but he found it hard, the cold air filling his lungs, the huge flakes of snow obstructing his view, and he felt sick. He stopped and sat down in the snow. He was thirsty, so he drew a small waterskin of water. He drank and then turned around again, put the waterskin away, turned off the road and headed into the woods. He shoveled snow into his shoes like a clumsy ennyberos, an animal similar to bears in size and body structure, but ennyberos’ heads resembled those of hornets: bulging strange compound eyes, flagellum horns, and mandibles-claws-fangs with a huge mouth protruding on an elongated snout. Jamashar imagined the ennyberos from the Kaushmanashtoon, how it would move in such deep snow... No one was chasing him... And then he remembered.

“Oh, Belineya, what about my books?!” he appealed to the goddess-guardian of the isterses.

But Jamashar did not want to turn around, understanding that if the creatures did not touch the wagon, the books will remain intact, they are securely covered from snow and moisture, but if Jamashar dies, then the books could be lost forever.

The old man stopped moving quickly, and began to fall slowly into the snowdrifts, breathing heavily. Jamashar was dressed in a winter caftan, and a hooded cloak, but because of the wind the hood kept falling off, and the old man’s ears began to freeze and he rubbed them periodically. Though the snowdrifts were not yet large, Jamashar could barely manage to move forward. He waddled between the northern trees, the rattendres, they had shed their leaves but looked like good shelter, and the old man moved deeper into the forest. He began to fall more often, and each step was difficult for him, his caftan and cloak were slowing him down, and his boots were already wet and completely filled with snow.

Jamashar found a small good spot, as he thought, with minimal snow cover, and began to shovel the snow away with his hands.

“Roh Tan Mus Drakal,” he tried to cast a small protective fire circle spell, but it didn’t work. Then he tried again, and failed again.

“Was Ishkmet right, and am I a worthless magician?” he suddenly exclaimed and bit his tongue, and then he concentrated again. “Roh Tan Mus Drakal!” he uttered. Finally, a circle of fire formed around the old man right in the snow.

Jamashar rejoiced, but he ended up in a small hole, and the snow began to melt, after a while Jamashar found himself standing in a small puddle of water, constantly looking around, expecting to be noticed. The fire was burning within a three feet of him. Jamashar held the hood with one hand and warmed the other hand by the fire, then changed hands, continuing to look around constantly.

Suddenly he heard the flapping of wings. He wanted to hide, but it was too late. The dragon landed not far from him, knocking down trees with a crash. Jamashar pulled back his hood and prepared to try to cast a fireball.

“Ha, it’s you, old man,” said the blue dragon with white edges, “don’t you remember me?”

“Delmirbiznax?“asked Jamashar.

“Delmirbirznaaks actually, old man,” the dragon replied loudly.

“Shh, hush, fjallik forundran, there are evil assassins not far from here, creatures in the form of smoke and shadows.”

“What are you talking about?” Delmir wondered.

“Stralandir, would you please carry the old man south?” Jamashar asked suddenly plucking up his courage.

“Hmm, I was going farther north actually, because after the battle of the dragons when Gaal incinerated many of my brothers, I was headed just south and–"

“Forgive me for interrupting, stralandir, but we can discuss all this later, it’s very dangerous here.”

“Did Gaal get here?” Delmir asked.

“Stralandir, I will tell you everything, and what you learn will turn your mind upside down, but please, can’t we fly south right away?” Jamashar asked without hiding his fear.

“All right, climb on,” the dragon said grudgingly, and began to spread his wing, almost impaling it on a fallen rattendr tree.

Jamashar clinging awkwardly to the spikes, which were sticking out along the dragon’s wing, somehow but climbed onto the dragon, and Delmir took off, heading south.

They flew for half a day and saw nothing but small birds. But then suddenly they saw an old arqilunian man waving at them and shouting something. Delmir decided to land.

“No, we don’t know who it is, why are you–" Jamashar began to protest.

But the dragon had already landed, and the arqilunian ran up to them.

“Finally!” exclaimed the old arqilunian. “Greetings, Delmirbirznaaks!”

“Do you know me?” the dragon asked in surprise.

“I’m one of the First! My name is Ansellellor,” the arqilunian said proudly.

“Ha!” Jamashar exclaimed. He could hardly feel his hands because of the cold. “That’s what I wanted to tell you, stralandir, but first we have to deal with this unbearable cold!”

They were near the border between Norvinoria and Farderland. It was sunny but chilly, but warmer than in the north around Hoogmeerfall.

“And who are you?” Ansell asked.

“I am the one who knows your true history, the First,” Jamashar answered.

“The First? The barzandakor?” the dragon asked dumbfounded.

"′Barzandakor′ is an unpleasant name, invented by one of us for the pathos of the legend. The First is a more appropriate name. However, friends... I can call you friends, can’t I?” And without waiting for a reply he continued, “The story of the creation of dragons, which you already know, isters, and while you do not know, dear Delmir, can be told later. Right now I need to get to Chumbiksirinish.”

“Exactly!” Jamashar exclaimed. “That’s where I saw you,The First, dear Ansellellor. It’s my hometown, and there aren’t many old people who look like arqilunians! And now I see that your face is so familiar! My name is Jamashar, by the way.”

“It doesn’t matter now, Jamashar, soon there will be no life on the planet!”

“Is it because you’ll be mining your alanjruon here as my snunorf friends told me?” Jamashar asked.

“No, the greyskuggies have infiltrated Ermir! They’re those smoky things–"

“Ah! I think I’ve seen them. They killed the whole army,” Jamashar interrupted the First.

“Where? In the north?”

“Yes, near the small city, I saw them, the smoky shadows flying around Hoogmeerfall. And they killed everyone who was with me,” Jamashar answered with pain

“So you were on your way to the ikhagatbers, I see,” Ansell guessed.

“Yes, and I–" began Jamashar.

“Are you saying, old man,” the dragon interrupted him, looking at Ansell, “that you are my mother’s father?” The dragon still trying to wrap his mind around what he’s heard, and he decided to clarify.

“Yes, but now–" Ansell started.

“Never mind!” Jamashar interrupted and continued for Ansel. “Tell me about these greyskuggies, who or what are they?”

“What do you mean ′never mind′, isters?” Delmir wondered. “If you met your grandfather whom you have never seen, wouldn’t it matter to you?!”

“We’re all going to die! And we’ll die soon if we don’t stop this useless conversation!” Ansell suddenly snapped. “I need the alanjruon, urgently! And I have a supply in Chumbiksirinish, and by the way, the tukhtaashes and the arqilunians waiting for me there.”

“The tukhtaashes and the arqilunians?” Jamashar wondered. “I can only imagine what it must be like for taraykh Stoyangert!” Isters grinned, rubbing his hands together. He tried to blow on them with his breath and rub them, but his hands did not warm up at all.

“Delmir, just take me there, and then I’ll move you to Lisandra, and also if I find your brothers somehow, I’ll move them to your mother’s sister as well. By the way, she is on another planet right now.”

“What?” the dragon gasped in surprise.

“Take me to Chumbiksirinish and you’ll know everything,” Ansell said.

“I support this decision,” Jamashar said suddenly.

The dragon hesitated, but still spread his wing. Suddenly they saw the dragons approaching. Delmir stopped Ansell from climbing and said to Jamashar, “Get off me and wait here!” Jamashar did it and Delmir took off, heading toward the dragons. Some of the dragons were walking, they were probably wounded.

“Brother!” Delmir shouted.

“Traitor!” Ulli exclaimed and blazed with fire, but Delmir dodged.

“Are you still a servant of the false mother? Do you still obey her?” Delmir shouted with irritation and fired a jet of flame at Ulli. Ulli dodged it.

Randair flew towards Delmir. Farum was on the ground and took off and headed for Ulli.

“We don’t obey anyone!” Randair shouted and fire grazed the belly of the unfolding Delmir.

“Stop!” Ansell shouted, using some kind of magic voice amplification. “I know why you’re angry! The ikhagatbers decided to attack suddenly, and it was just right after making an alliance! But I killed them all! All seven of them. Of course there are others, but those seven are dead!”

Jamashar stood by, automatically covering his ears at the volume of the sound.

“You killed the ikhagatbers?” Jamashar wondered.

The dragons turned their attention to Ansell. Farum flew to him.

“Is it true, First?” Farum asked.

Ulli and Randair continued to pursue and fire Delmir, but after they hit his belly, the dragon no longer allowed himself to become a target for flame.

“Stop it, brothers!” Irkir suddenly shouted.

Delmir turned around and flew toward Ansell, and Ansell saw it and began to cast a spell. When Delmir flew right over the First and Jamashar, Ulli blazed with fire and Delmir turned sharply, and the fire bounced off Ansell’s protective dome.

“I don’t want to kill you, you’re almost like children to me!” Ansell exclaimed. “But if you keep this up, I shall begin to treat you as vicious, foolish ikhagatbers who broke their own pact!”

“Ulli, Randair, leave Delmir alone,” Farum shouted.

Ulli and Randair obeyed and stopped the chase.

“We could all end up like the ancient snunorfs, dying in terror, and it will happen very soon if you don’t do what needs to be done, so get me to Chumbiksirinish quickly. I suggest that Randair carry me, and let Delmir and this isters stay with you.”

“What?” Jamashar exclaimed. “I must find my friend Ishkmet! I also need to go to Chumbiksirinish! The taraykh will send a detachment to look for my friend, I’m sure. Ishkmet left with Queen Nulara to find the elves–"

“So you can tell your story to the dragons,” Ansell interrupted him, “and I’ll save your life in return! You wouldn’t want to be pierced by greyskuggies and then eaten to the bone, would you?” Jamashar shook his head. “Good!” Ansell exclaimed.

“Randair,” Farum called the dragon, “take the First to Chumbiksirinish.”

“I’ll fly too,” Delmir said, “I won’t stay with Ulli, he wants to kill me.”

“No, stay here!” Ansell said in a commanding tone.

“Farum, are you sure you want me to carry this... First to the city?” Randair asked, expressing distrust and dislike.

“Yes,” Farum answered.

“Farum, this is a mistake,” Ulli shouted, “we must burn all ermirians and traitors! You wanted to exterminate them all, have you forgotten?!”

“Ulzardaldalor,” Ansell shouted, “I helped bring Gaal to another planet, as you remember! I didn’t hurt him, nor did any of you! I killed the ikhagatbers! And now we face a danger, which was unknown to Ermir since the appearance of the planet! The greyskuggies! They are shadow-smokes, they can kill anything with their smoke, and that’s how they feed! And we had to destroy an entire planet to exterminate them, but we made the mistake of thinking they were all dead!” Ansell looked at the dragons, then turned to the gray dragon with dark blue streaks on the scales, “Now, Randair, take me to Chumbiksirinish!”

Randair looked at Farum, who nodded, and Randair spread his wing, letting Ansell climb up. Then the gray dragon fluttered up and flew southeast.