Anchorites. chapter 2. the petal of aurgannia

CHAPTER TWO. THE PETAL OF AURGANNIA

Gradually it was getting dark. The light disappeared as suddenly as everything that happened today. The night enveloped the lands of Abbaddon, descended like a velvet veil, covering everything and everyone with boundless darkness. Pitch darkness, ruthlessly eating everything around, also covered the expanses of the lands of the city of Evangard, which was not so far from the dead forests, but a simple traveler would have taken at least four days of travel. It was deep night. It was so impenetrable that, without any source of light, any traveler would simply get lost forever and would be doomed to wander like a blind person.
In the southwest of Abbaddon for many centuries there was an ancient and once majestic, now standing in ruins, the city of Evangard, which in the night flickered with bright lights and flashes, and in daylight looked like a gray giant, surrounded by continuous ditches, rough buildings of wood and stone and local creatures circling the neighborhood like ants. In the center of Evangard stood a big tower, and at its foot were numerous entrances to the dungeons leading to huge caves, where local creatures lived and now worked, serving their master faithfully. The city was protected by a powerful stonewall, several hundred meters long and stretching along the entire border, and a huge abyss that could only be crossed by a wooden bridge connecting the earth and the iron gates. It was at the town of Evangard that the wagon of three hunters and their helpless prisoners stopped.
Huge, scary-looking and aggressive creatures patrolled the city around the clock. Ogres. These dark creatures have served the ruler of Evangard already for many years, and the entire ogre race has always belonged to the dark side during the long history of the lands of Abbaddon. This was for a reason: the ogres were strong, hardy, lived a very long time and were not only faithful servants, but also ideal cruel killers.
Hardly to say that these creatures were distinguished by a sharp mind, without embellishment they could even be called frankly stupid, so it was not difficult to control them.
Ogres lined up at the foot of the wall, as well as at the top of it. These creatures looked, frankly, disgusting: at least two meters tall, covered with coarse iron armor that hides the slimy, uneven surface of dirty green skin, as if covered with ulcers and scabs. These creatures did not have lips, and the gums and teeth stood out strongly on the bumpy dark face, which is why drool constantly splashed to the sides when the ogres tried to somehow communicate with each other, uttering lows and growls incomprehensible to a person. Their eyes were in deep hollows in which small black balls sat, and in the darkness it seemed that the ogres were completely devoid of organs of vision. Armed with spears and shields, enchanted creatures that did not know fatigue and weakness patrolled the city wall without interruption.
A few kilometers from the wall was the Tower of Darkness, a very tall building where the current self-proclaimed king of all Evangard, the sorcerer Taurentius, lived. He ruled the local lands for ten years from the moment his army destroyed the already impoverished and exhausted city and all those who disagreed and protested. But ruling over the ruins was certainly not Taurentius’ goal. In fact, this magician needed only a good place for temporary accommodation, where he could, in safety and tranquility, build up strength for the coming battles, of which there were several planned. Of course, he led his conquests not without reason, although the goals of this king seemed vague to many, and he himself had long earned a reputation as an unpredictable and insidious tyrant. Taurentius was a pure-blooded magician and for many years resorted to dark magic that made him immortal, and the World of Shadows, the space where the spirits of deceased enchanted creatures lived in eternal peace, had long been closed to him. Of course, the immortality of Taurentius was vulnerable, like everything that exists under the sun and blue sky, but the magician did everything possible so that this vulnerability remained behind the seven seals of immutable secrets.
Taurentius' forces were so great that he already owned most of Abbaddon, conquering new territories with the regular army of ogres. The magician was very proud of his achievements and did not at all think that the territories taken under his control, in fact, remained only ruins, a reminder of the death and suffering of the people and creatures that could not escape in an unequal battle. Such lands, battlefields, were almost all large and small settlements of the central Abbaddon, while the north, south and east still remained impregnable. Therefore, the current goals, and the most important ones, for the king of Evangard were the capture of the Endless Wall in the east of Abbaddon that hid the only large and not yet conquered city, which is of significant value, and Enchanted Forest in the north, full of new, unknown magic. To get the coveted prize, Taurentius has been perfecting the army for many years, trying to use magic to make it invulnerable and even more deadly. He conducted his experiments in the dungeons of Evangard, which became a kind of forge for his army.
Despite the obsession with power that occupied much of Taurentius' mind, this mage had a strange kind of family that he also found time for. The son of Taurentius was named Troy. It was a very young guy who had turned eighteen a few days ago, but by his coming of age the young man had already grown strong, matured, was smart and had knowledge of military strategies. Since Taurentius was immortal, he did not plan to ever pass power to his mortal son by inheritance, but raised his offspring as the most devoted comrade-in-arms. From childhood, Troy kept with his father, remembered everything he said, absorbed information. Taurentius was in many ways pleased with his son, but still raised him in strictness, sometimes punishing him in cold blood, thereby also trying to bring up the strength of mind in the boy. Troy was now the right hand of Taurentius. For a while. Until recently, a young man could swear his devotion to his father. Now he had a secret that haunted his thoughts and body.
Troy knew that his father was currently out of the city: he had to personally go to Embry, the capital city located in the northwest, closer to the Red Harbor, and the path was not close, even taking into account the magical abilities of Taurentius. Why it was necessary for the father to personally meet with the rulers of Embry and why he could not, as usual, send someone there as a negotiator, it remained a mystery to Troy, nevertheless now did not particularly worry him. Troy benefited from his father’s absence from Evangard tonight. By the way, the young man knew that Taurentius could return at any moment, so he tried to fulfill his plan quickly and without errors.
Troy was a tall, tough, blue-eyed, fair-skinned youth with pronounced cheekbones, thin lips, and moderately long, thin, mouse-colored hair. The guy did not look like his father in appearance, but since childhood he tried to adopt father's style of behavior. That evening, when Taurentius left Evangard, Troy took over his post in the tower, strictly forbidding any of the servants to disturb his peace. After making sure that there were no casual observers nearby, Troy approached a tall, narrow structure covered with maroon fabric, and, pulling the edge of it, released the elminn.
Elminn was the name given to a very rare portal that could take anybody to the location of a person that's urgently needed to see. The use of this artifact did not always end well: an inept wizard could slip away inside this magical thing and stay there forever. That's why owning an elminn was a privilege, but using such a portal was quite dangerous. By the way, this was the first time that Troy had resorted to using his father’s magical artifacts, in addition, without permission, so the young man’s idea was at great risk.
The elminn looked like a tall mirror with a delicate blue smooth surface unusual for glass, which, when touched, seemed completely liquid and which was framed by an ornate golden pattern, merging into ancient words and symbols that have lost their meaning for sentient beings living today. Elminn was a rare artifact: only two such mirrors were known to exist at Abbaddon. By the way, this portal was useful only to those who can do magic, innately or acquired, and for ordinary people this strange thing could be nothing but a mirror, unremarkable and not particularly useful.
Troy, making sure that the entrance to the top of the tower was closed, and that the blackening silhouette of his father returning home early did not loom on the horizon, stepped towards the blue transparent surface of the portal and passed through it, plunging into a soft liquid, that gently and coldly enveloped the body of a young magician, but leaving no dampness on it. The surface of the elminn swallowed Troy, releasing him into a space that was different from the environs of Evangard, like day and night. Despite the risk, the young man was quite certain that his plan would go smoothly, so he was not surprised that the mirror had let him in, and was obviously where he wanted to appear.
Here everything bloomed and was green, as if life itself, in its true embodiment, had found its worthy abode in this place full of freshness. Even breathing was different here: freely. Troy, being in the service of his father, rarely saw such beautiful corners of Abbaddon, if only because they, if they remained, were only placed in the Enchanted Forest, the road to which had long been closed. The rest of Abbaddon, by the present day, has turned into dead wastelands and ruins. Here, in this unusual place filled with vitality, Troy was waited by the beautiful, so pleasant to the eye of the young man woman named Estella.
At first sight, one might think that this is a human being of divine beauty, but Estella did not belong to the human race at all. Estella was an anchorite, one of the divine Five, and the only one deity to have ever had contact with living creatures on earth. Nevertheless, no one knew what this anchorite looked like, not even those who met it in the face, because the deity did not have a specific shell and everyone could see different looks at the meeting.
Troy was in love with this shell, this camouflage that drove him crazy: every feminine curve of a young body, every snow-white lock of curly hair, majestic wings folded behind the back and like a plume twinkling with stars, a little narrowed eyes that was full of riddles that drove the young blood mad and boiled. Of course, it was only a silhouette, a misconception behind which an unknown essence was hiding, but so real and attractive that it could bewitch forever and captivate to the end. It was difficult to cope with this feeling, but Troy gathered his thoughts and said:
"Hello, Estella."
Estella, keeping silent, slowly approached Troy, causing the young man to flinch.
"Let's make the deal. Take what you need and give what I ask. I have to make it before my father returns..."
"H-h-h-ush-sh-sh..." the woman hissed like a snake.
Estela looked around with a strange movement of her head, as if her neck had no bones, as if afraid that this conversation was too loud for reasons probably only she knew. Then the woman took Troy’s hand and bared it to her elbow.
"Are you s--s-s-sure you're ready for this-s-s?" still hissed Estella, looking at Troy's forearm. "You know that there will be no turning back ..."
Estella obviously understood who Troy was and why he had come, and this strengthened the young man’s confidence that he was doing the right thing. He answered firmly.
"I have long decided who and what I serve in this life. Don't plant a seed of doubt in my mind, Estella. Let's do it right away. You know what I mean."
Estella nodded meekly. Troy let out a low groan and pursed his lips. A small but deep cut appeared on his wrist, from which blood began to flow, showing a blue color. However, this dark blue stream did not flow down the arm, as it should have happened, but rushed through the air, as if guided through an invisible tube, gathering into a transparent round sphere, gradually turning into a small blue-black ball with the seething blood of Troy. The young man suggested that Estella would take his blood: for some reason she simply found it useful, but this was not a problem and certainly was not a big price to pay for the successful outcome of Troy's plan. That's why he obediently gave the woman as much blood as she needed.
Everything happened in complete and ringing silence. When there was enough blood, the blue stream stopped and the wound on Troy's wrist healed in a matter of moments. The sphere with Troy's seething blood continued to hang in the air as if nothing special had happened. Estella turned and walked away.
“Come with me,” she commanded her guest imperiously.
Troy knew that now it was Estella's turn to fulfill her part of the deal, and obediently followed the woman, answering nothing.
Here, literally a few dozen steps from the place where Estella and Troy stood half a minute ago, there were at least a thousand different jars and flasks. Here the woman apparently kept her artifacts, one of which she was obliged to share with the guest. The young man with undisguised curiosity contemplated Estella's possessions, largely because he knew what he needed, and looked for this object with his eyes.
Among the strange substances and unthinkable objects was a pale pink flower, similar in appearance to a rose, but with much more aggressive thorns and an unusual coloring of the petals, which shimmered from one color to another, and there was hardly any definite pattern in this variability. The flower was covered with a glass dome. It was this plant that Troy needed. Or rather, part of this plant.
Estella did not fail the guest. Troy breathed a sigh of relief. The woman, carefully and slowly, as if she herself was afraid of this flower, removed the glass dome. At the same time, the pleasant smell of melted sugar filled the area. The young man's gaze was riveted to the stunning flower. The thorns immediately began to pulsate, and the thin stem seemed to breathe, threateningly warning anyone who dared to touch it. Troy took a step back, trusting in Estella's actions.
Later it became clear why the woman was stalling. A few seconds later, a ball of Troy's blood had floated through the air to the place where she stood. Estella waited until the sphere was above the flower, and then gently touched it, separating a few drops of viscous blood that fell on the pulsing thorns and were immediately absorbed by them. The stem stopped rising, and the flower suddenly calmed down, giving away one of its petals, which softly and gracefully soared into the air and, as if at the behest of Estella's thought, fell into her palm.
Troy watched this unusual process with bated breath: being the son of a strong magician, he had seen a lot. By the way only artificially created magic was available to Taurentius, but as for the magic of nature, it was beyond his control. So, for the first time in his life, Troy saw this kind of magic, and it made him feel like he had this weird, obscure mixture of admiration and fear. The petal continued to shimmer with bright hues, continued to live, even when separated from the bud. Rejoicing with all his soul, the young man looked up at Estella: stingy tears shone in his eyes.
"Can I get it?" he asked cautiously.
"Take it. This is yours," the woman smiled, holding out the desired petal to the guest.
"Can I leave? Will this petal work as I expect?" Troy was in a hurry in fear that he would not be able to complete this journey before his father’s return.
Estella glanced anxiously at the sphere of blue blood, which was still floating in the air.
"Your blood will remain here forever," she said as if it were something undesirable that should be forewarned. "The freedom of the one you so desire, and her salvation in exchange for your blood. You're brave to take such a desperate step. But are you smart enough to give blood to the anchorite for the accomplishment of a dream that is based only on youthful passion, a gust of fleeting emotion? Can you leave? Only if you want to. If you really think the deal is done."
Troy didn’t notice it immediately, but Estella’s voice lost that strange hiss. Now she sounded just like the one in whose guise Estella was. This made the heart shrink in the young man’s chest. He hardly understood what such an exchange was fraught with, but his mortal soul would not allow him to give up now. Troy nodded decisively.
Truly, the deal was successfully completed, and Troy was ready to return to Evangard, still not having tamed the dreadful excitement. So far, everything has been going remarkably well. The surface of the elminn again swallowed the young man and released him into the tower of Evangard. Hastily covering the mirror with a fabric, Troy ran to the exit, not wanting to waste a second of valuable time.
There was a fairy in the dungeon. The girl, frail and graceful, with large silver wings behind her back, was called Oriel, and belonged to a now virtually extinct race of fairies. A few years ago, Taurentius discovered a real hunt for these enchanted creatures. Hunters and vampires, loyal servants of the dark wizard, scoured every corner of Abbaddon, and the trail of destruction and violence stretched beyond their raids and spread rumors, instilling fear and panic among the civilians. The fairies were needed for Taurentius for experiments: the wizard set himself the goal of mixing two magical races - the Fairies and the Ogres - and obtaining an invincible enchanted creature, with the powerful magic of the first ones and the aggressive power of the latter. No one had ever attempted such magic before Taurentius, so the experiment had been going by trial and error, by killing hundreds of innocent prisoners. Oriel was the last of her kind. In any case, Taurentius no longer knew where to find the fairies, so he delayed the last experiment, as failure in it could destroy his plans to capture the Endless Wall and the Enchanted Woods. That’s how things have been until tonight.
The fairy was held in a stone cave enclosed by a grate and guarded by the ogres and by Troy himself. Taurentius made his son regularly check on the fairy’s condition because he did not fully trust the servants, doubting not their loyalty but their prudence. However, Taurentius could not know one thing: Troy was in love with Oriel and, though it was not reciprocated, the young man cherished the hope that, having given the beloved her freedom, the man would be able to look for a chance. At the time of his scheduled visit to the captive, the young son of the sorcerer would send the ogres servants away and, having ascertained the absence of third parties nearby, dared to make a heart-to-heart conversation. By custom, the conversations were quiet and short: if Taurentius knew about his son’s betrayal, Troy would be in big trouble!  However, it was in vain to describe the ardent feelings for the exhausted captive: of course, Oriel was not at all concerned with love thoughts, and Troy, thanks so much, was aware of this. So today the young man came to Oriel’s dungeon and the meeting promised to be extremely important: the escape plan was completely ready, and Troy intended to fulfill the last step of his plan and give the captive the petal of the cherished salvation.
Weary and covered with a veil of relentless darkness, Oriel’s face suddenly shone on the smile of genuine happiness. Although she had no mutual feelings for Troy, he was a close friend to her, and in his presence all the bad thoughts seemed to disappear, including memories of the long days spent in Evangard’s dungeon. She knew that Troy was preparing an escape plan for her, but did not think that this plan had a chance of success. After a year in captivity, the fairy was so weak that life was barely warm inside her body.
"Troy..." Oriel whispered in a weak voice. The wings of the fairy flickered a little noticeably in the twilight, reminding that the hope of a successful conclusion was alive.
"My love..." said the young man in a whisper. "Forgive me for taking so long. To postpone the terrible hour, I went to find new fairies at my father’s order. Of course, I wasn’t looking for them, and the journey only convinced my father that a fairy full of life would be more useful to him than you. Nevertheless, I got time to think it through. I found the decision. Fortunately, it happened to me. Today you will find your freedom, my love."
Oriel held her breath. A tear came out of her eyes, glinting in the darkness of the dungeon. Fairy couldn’t believe her sworn enemy’s son finally decided to do something desperate. Against all odds, putting himself in mortal danger.
"Today?" said the fairy as if she did not believe her ears. "Is it really today?"
Oriel approached the bars, clutching them with thin pale fingers. Troy opened his fingers and stretched out his hand to the girl, on which lay something similar to a rose petal that had not yet dried out.
"Take this. Hide it so no one can see," whispered Troy persistently. "Listen carefully to what’s going on around you. Catch the moment when you are not in the sight of the observers, and when this moment has a place to be, you must eat this petal. Eat it like a regular meal. Nobody should know you are doing it, which is the most important thing, got it? Look, don’t miss the moment."
Troy took Oriel’s hand and placed a petal on the girl’s palm. The prisoner closed her fingers and pressed the gift to her chest. Closing her eyes, she leaned back, leaning against the stonewall. The fairy’s breast were rising heavily, Troy could hear her breath rasping in and out. Oriel could barely contain her tears, not believing that her captivity was coming to the end. Troy continued whispering, looking anxiously at the prison entrance.
"This is a petal of Aurgannia. Once you consume it, it will at the same moment give you strength, temporarily, but enough to run.  In addition, you will be able to become invisible, come through walls and bars. Use your ability to fly, and you can disappear from captivity without a trace. My father will accuse the ogres of your escape, and I will volunteer to find you. I will not serve my father forever. His views are not interesting to me and are totally unacceptable. I choose the path next to you. I want to serve the goodness."
"You’re my savior forever. I owe you my life," Oriel whispered quietly. "But you expect me to answer what I cannot promise. You know, my heart is completely and irrevocably given to Adrian. I do not want to end up breaking the hopes of someone who has become my faithful friend. Troy..."
"It doesn’t matter, the light of my eyes," said the young man fervently, as if he were trying to deceive himself. "Under no circumstances I will allow my father to destroy you for his senseless purposes. He destroyed the fairy race, but he will not get you. I did my best. I found Estella. Now it’s your turn to act. It took a lot of risk for me to get you an Aurgannia petal.  And you have to, you know, please... you have to do exactly what I said. Nothing else - love, friendship, broken hopes - matters now. It’s all about saving an innocent life. Your life, dear Oriel."
Troy took a hard breath, bowed his head. He realized that love for the fairy would never leave his heart, yet the salvation of the beloved was indeed more important than any selfish feeling. In the mind of the young man the question ripened.
"You want to be my friend after this is over, when you’re finally free?"
Troy's gaze drilled the face of a fairy hidden in the twilight. Everything in the young man’s head mixed. His biggest dream right now was to run away from Evangard with his sweetheart. It was a mortal risk for Troy, and he understood the consequences he was likely to face.
"You don’t have to answer. There’s no reason to make it harder on your soul. Let’s save your life. Even if we don’t see each other more, at least I’ll know that my love has a chance to go back home and live, breathe, love."
Oriel looked at her savior and cried, silently and humbly.
"Please don’t cry. Everything will be fine. Remember my instructions, Oriel. Don’t miss your chance to save yourself. Now, I have to go. I hope to meet you someday. I hope with all my heart."
"Troy," the prisoner whispered. “Thank you. Thank you very much..."
Troy smiled at her. The young man felt the flow of emotion, incredibly superfluous at that moment, gradually fading away, leaving place for warm calm satisfaction.
"Good luck to you. I hope to see you soon..." Troy just nodded.
With one last look at the fairy, he moved away from the bars. A few seconds later the young man turned again: In the dark, it was difficult to see the clear outlines and silhouettes. Troy suddenly clearly imagined that there was no longer a prisoner behind bars. He imagined Oriel floating freely above the blossoming Abbaddon, wonderful and filled with life as no one remembered it for present days. Holding back his desire to cling to the bars again, Troy only smiled bitterly at himself. He knew there was a long trial ahead and his father’s wrath, and the fear of that now seemed not so great. The fact that Oriel had been liberated made the stone of heavy doom felt much lighter.