# The Forgotten Song

Nea Stand

Tales from the Lands of Aegonia

First Book


I thank the Inspiration

that has allowed us

to tell this story.


Thanks to my first

readers - my friends -

for their support.

I needed it more than

you can know.


## Chapter 1. Salikiya


There was once a village high in the mountains of Andaegil where travelers rarely frequented. People there lived a simple life and nothing much ever happened to them.

Until one day their troubles began – the sun refused to rise. People were very scared and didn’t know what to do. They decided to wait, hoping that it would pass, but it continued with only a husky twilight distinguishing the day from the night.

If the lack of light wasn’t enough, not a drop of rain fell either. Rivers began to dry up and the trees withered.

No one in the village had ever heard of anything like that happening before. Even the elders had no idea what had befallen them.

The people suffered. In desperation, they decided to seek the help of Salikiya - a sorceress who lived high in the mountains a few days’ walk away. The village council came together and elected three people to go and ask her what had to be done to bring back the sun and the rain.

The chosen three climbed through the mountains in the pale twilight of the day. They walked along a narrow goat path through a dense forest of ancient trees. After some time the path grew faint and even disappeared occasionally. Nobody had gone to Salikiya in a very long time, so the path was long ago overgrown with bushes and shrubs.

“When was the last time someone went to see the old witch?” wondered Venel. He was the youngest in the group.

“If I were in your place, I wouldn’t ask such questions,” Danil told him. “It’s no joke for a man to have dealings with wizards and witches.”

“If at least one could see better… these surroundings are hardly recognizable,” snorted Venel as he tripped over a rock.

Broa walked before them deep in thought. He was tall and heavy, and his hair was almost all white now. Across the left side of his face was a long scar.

“In my life I’ve been twice to see her,” he said, “And if it wasn’t for the gravity of our situation with the sun and the rain, I wouldn’t have agreed to go again. The first time was when I was four. I was suffering from a serious illness and my mother thought I was going to die. For several months I’d been given every kind of treatment but to no avail… nothing helped. Finally I was forced to seek the help of Salikiya. She gave me awfully tasting syrup which healed me in a few days.”

“Ah, so well, she helped you,“ Venel said.

“She helped me, all right. But as you know, sorcerers always want something in return for their help. ‘Everything has a price. If you want to get something, you have to give something,’ they say, but usually not at the beginning, only after it’s too late to go back.”

“What was your price?” asked Danil.

Broa frowned even more.

“I was only four and didn’t understand what was happening. But my mother had to make a promise on my behalf that when I was twenty years old, I’d go to pick some rare herbs for Salikiya. It seemed to her that it wouldn’t be a particularly difficult task and, therefore, readily agreed. I wish I hadn’t gone...” Broa accidentally touched the scar on his face. “But I didn’t have a choice - Salikiya saved my life. I got away with this souvenir, but another person who was very dear to me wasn’t so fortunate and suffered much more. A high price to pay for those damn herbs.”

“So then the second time with Salikiya, perhaps, was when you were bringing back the herbs?” asked Danil.

“No. I didn’t bring them to Salikiya, someone else did it for me. It didn’t matter who gave them to her in the end.”

“Then when was it?”

“The second time was another matter. I don’t feel like talking about it,” said Broa .

“Why?!” Venel asked.

“Another time.”

“Come on… we want to hear the story.”

Broa turned to Venel with an angry face, “I said another time!”

Danil pulled Venel on the sleeve and shook his head. He leaned to his ear and whispered, “Perhaps it was when Aya was lost in the caves of A'grot. Better not insist.”

They walked in silence in the cool twilight of the silent forest. After a while Venel called out, “I've heard that if you look long enough in the eyes of the old witch, you can see the past, and even the future.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t try,” said Broa, “Not that I've tried, but her eyes give me the creeps. They’re sometimes completely white and sometimes completely black. It’s said that when they’re white, she’s dreaming and in the dream she discovers many things. And when they’re black, she’s most dangerous, and if you stare at them for long enough, they can absorb you getting lost in them forever… losing your mind. Besides that, she doesn’t seem old, but rather looks like a ten-year girl.”

“What, really?” marveled Danil. “I always pictured her as an old, haggard woman with shaggy hair, crooked teeth and a boney body.”

“As for her body being bony, it’s true, but she doesn’t look old at all.” continued Broa. “At least until you see her eyes. Nobody knows how old she is. Even Grandma Stas once told me that when she was a little girl Salikiya was living in the mountains and many times people went to her for advice or help.”

“I can’t imagine grandmother Stas as a little girl,” chuckled Venel.

“Her grandmother,” continued Broa, “told her the story of Salikiya. Apparently it’s always been the same. Nobody knows where she came from or how old she is. She knows everything about everyone and can tell you many things… really, so many things.”

“Even when you will die?” asked Venel, his eyes glistening.

“Why do you need to know when you’re going to die? I'd rather not know,” said Danil.

“You're still young, Venel,” Broa shook his head, “and think that you have a lot of time ahead of you. How old are you now? Twenty...?”

“... Seventeen...”

“... And that's why you’re asking yourself these questions since you think their answers are far away in the future. But no one knows how much time he has left on this earth. Could be years or it may be just one day. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t talk about that with Salikiya,” Broa stopped and looked at them, “And don’t forget that whatever you ask of her, she’ll ask you of something in return.”

Danil nodded. The three continued on their way.

On a nearby tree a cuckoo bird cried out and flew away deep into the forest. The day was ending and it became even darker.

“Soon, we won’t be able to see the ground at our feet and we’ll have to stop for the night,” said Danil.

Behind them, down the hill, out of some hidden crack crawled a mist and climbed quickly in their footsteps. It would soon catch up with them.

“Frankly,” continued Danil looking at the mist over his shoulder, “I’d prefer to meet Salikiya a hundred times over rather than meet the Mistress of the Mists just one time.”

“Endoriel probably doesn’t exist,” said Venel but he looked back nervously. “You only frighten small children with her. But Salikiya is very real.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” said Broa. “Either way we’ve almost reached the house of Salikiya and frankly, I'd rather spend the night with her than out in the mist.”

Indeed, the three soon found themselves in a small clearing in the middle of the old forest. At its distant end, close to a shallow creek, was a small cottage.

“The house of Salikiya,” said Broa. ”There’s smoke coming from the chimney, she’s probably here.”

He looked at Venel and then Danil adding, “Better just let me do the talking.”

They nodded.

The three crossed the lawn. As they approached the house they saw Salikiya sitting out front leaning against the wall and combing her long raven hair. Her eyelids fluttered slightly, and her little red lips moved gently, as if singing a cheerful children’s song. She occasionally smiled, as if the song was cheering her up. From a distance one could easily mistake her for a little girl.

But not after seeing her eyes - so dark, black and deep. There was almost no white around the irises.

“Hello, Salikiya,” Broa said.

“Hello, Broa,” whispered Salikiya. Her voice was melodious and meditative, as if she were speaking in a dream. She slightly turned her face towards Broa and sniffed the air, “Still angry with me, huh? But as I told you then – you came far too late to me. It was no longer possible to find it in the caves of A'grot.”

Her eyes looked out onto the distant hills that barely distinguished themselves in the darkness from the place where she sat. Her black eyes began slowly to lighten finally becoming completely white as if they had no iris or pupil at all.

“I see her, Broa, your little girl. She’s still alive, but at the same time isn’t.”

Broa made an awful grimace. Pain was written all over his face and his hands trembled.

“Why don’t you tell me how to find her?” he questioned in a whisper huskily, looking angrily at the sorceress, oblivious to all the stories he had heard for years about not doing so.

Salikiya’s eyes blackened for a moment as she stared at Broa. Startled, he quickly looked away.

“I told you,” she replied sharply. Her voice no longer soft and melodic, but raucous and rude, “You cannot bring her back without sacrificing yourself. If you go looking for her, there will be no turning back. That's all I can say. But that's not why you came here this day. You want to know how to make the sun and the rain return.”

Venel and Danil looked at each other uneasily.

“How did you know that?” asked Danil.

“I know, because the trees told me what you were talking about as you made your way here.”

Salikiya leaned back again, her eyes were empty and white - she seemed to be asleep. An occasional breeze blew through her long hair.

Danil and Venel nervously shifted their weight from foot to foot. Only Broa was sullen and silent, staring angrily at the sorceress.

After a while she spoke and as they listened to her, their faces grew grimmer.


## Chapter 2. Seek for Her in the Mists


There was one little girl who loved to be alone and often ran off from home. Regardless of how many times her parents warned her to come home on time and not to find herself alone in the mist, she never listened to them.

One day it just so happened that the mist fell earlier than usual. It was dusk and there were clouds in the sky. As the mists arrived, darkness came with it. The little girl became scared and started to run home. But it was not meant to be… the mist became so dense that she lost the path and instead of returning to the village, she went astray in the woods and eventually came out in front of a large, gloomy castle, which looked like it was woven from countless cobwebs. This was the home of the Mistress of the Mists. The girl was so frightened that she closed her eyes and promised to always listen to her mother if the castle would just disappear and the path to her house reappear. But when she opened her eyes, the castle was still standing before her, the gate slowly opening with an ominous creak.

Desperate, the girl started crying.

A rain cloud that was passing through the sky above her at that moment heard her cries and asked, “Why are you crying, little girl?”

She replied, “I’m crying because I got lost in the mist and now Endoriel will take me into her dark castle to steal my voice and make me like her, evil and inhuman. I’ll be forced to live in darkness, cold and mist forever… never to see the sun again. Oh, why didn’t I listen to my mother and go home before the mists fell?”

The cloud became so sad that he began to cry as well. And, then the droplets of mist began to melt and disappear. The gate and castle vanished revealing the path home. She jumped to her feet, laughed, thanked the cloud and ran home. Ever since then the little girl never went home late again.

Katrina closed the book, put it on the table and reached out to pour some more tea. Someone knocked on the door. She got up and hurried to open it. It was Galir.

“They're back,” he said.

Katrina grabbed her coat and hurried after him.

It took the three men two days to reach Salikiya and two more to return. The village was waiting silently and anxiously, amongst the slopes of Andaegil. When they finally arrived everyone gathered to hear what the sorceress had said. Their faces revealed that whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

Broa spoke, he looked even more sullen than usual.

“We went to Salikiya and spoke with her. She told us that the only way the sun and the rain would return is if one of us seeks out Endoriel, the Mistress of the Mists.”

A low excited whisper passed among those who listened. The Mistress of the Mists… every single story and legend told of how harsh and cruel she was. Even the youngest children knew not to go into the mists.

Broa raised his hand to stop the whispering and continued, “Once he finds her, he must draw her into a battle and beat her, and after she loses she will tell him where the Stone of the winds can be found. It’ll bring back the sun and the rain and life will return to normal, sheep and goats will start to once again produce milk, crops will begin to grow and the rivers to flow.”

A moment of dead silence fell upon them then suddenly they all started excitedly talking over one another, “How do you choose whom to go? Who’d want to go looking for the Mistress of the Mists if everyone knows that they surely won’t survive such a meeting?”

“Nobody’s that crazy!”

“Yes, and where to look for her? There is mist everywhere, and the world is huge!”

“How do you win? With a sword there is no way to beat her - she's a sorceress after all. Salikiya didn’t mention anything about a secret weapon or something like that? Or perhaps a weakness that we could exploit?”

“Salikiya said that whoever finds her, may be able to figure out a way to defeat her...” began Broa, but a rain of questions flooded his ears.

“What if he doesn’t figure out? Could we then send someone else to try?”

“Isn’t there anyone else who knows where the stone is?”

“Who will volunteer to go? Maybe we should toss a coin or hold a contest to choose the strongest...?”

“Can we send a few instead of just one?”

“And if we get the stone, will we even know how to make use of it? What if it doesn’t work… if it’s all in vain, and all we do is attract the attention of Endoriel to our village?”

“Isn’t it better to just leave things as they are?”

“Salikiya is a sorceress and knows many things, right? Can’t she tell us where the stone is herself?”

“Yes she can tell us, or maybe she can go to talk to Endoriel herself, they will probably understand each other much better...”

“Or, if they don’t come to an understanding, at least she will have a much better chance to win any battle with her than any of us...”

Broa raised his hand to signal them to stop. Little by little they noticed him and stopped talking to hear what he had to say. He turned to the old, gray, wrinkled and toothless grandmother Stas and asked, “Grandma, you're the oldest and wisest among us. What should we do?”

“We will collect the village council and hear exactly what Salikiya has said. Then, we will listen to the views of the elders after which we will decide. Let us go, on your feet, the matter is urgent. We begin immediately.”

Everyone got up and made their way home. However, the village council, Grandma Stas, Broa, Katrina, Aneako and Galir, went to the house of grandma Stas. They entered a small room where there was an old wooden table, two chairs, a bed and a chest with the door creaking shut behind them. Grandmother Stas sat down heavily on a rocking chair by the fire and wrapped herself in a thick blanket.

“Now boy, tell us again what Salikiya said and don’t forget any details.”

Broa smiled crookedly at her addressing him as ‘boy’, his hair had long been gray, but compared to the hunchbacked and toothless grandmother Stas, he really did look like a young man.

“Salikiya told us that we must choose one person and only one to go and look for Endoriel. Where to search for her, she wasn’t so specific, and you know that with Salikiya it is difficult to insist or interrogate her for more information. She said, ‘go there’ and waved her hand, I think towards the North, but Danil thinks in the direction of Elgora.”

“Elgora…” said grandmother Stas, “mountains blanketed with wild, impassable forests, where mists often fall. Her name means exactly that – ‘wild forest’ or ‘great forest.’ Few have travelled that way.”

Broa continued, “We can’t pinpoint the direction. Regardless of how many times we asked Salikiya, she only repeated – ‘there’ and waved her hand in a vague direction.”

Grandmother Stas nodded her head, “That is how Salikiya told you because it does not matter which way you look for the Mistress of the Mists. Remember the legends and remember the tales that were told to you when you were children. She appears in the mists, always in a different place, sometimes nearby, sometimes far away and no one knows exactly where to find her or how to avoid her. Therefore, it makes no difference in which way you look for her. And, wherever there is mist, it is possible for us to find her.”

Everyone nodded slowly, understanding what grandmother meant.

“Let it be Elgora or any other place, it doesn’t matter.”

Broa nodded and continued, “We asked Salikiya if she could tell us which of us is best suited for this task. She said that we alone must make the selection. She said she’d like to help us, but the dreams were vague, so she wouldn’t interfere. If the person we choose can defeat Endoriel, she’ll tell him where to find the stone of the winds.”

“Well,” said Katrina, “if we imagine that someone does manage to beat Endoriel and to find the stone, how would we use it?”

“Salikiya said,” explained Broa, “all we need to do with the stone when we find it, is to throw it down from a high place. She said it was very important for the place to be as high as possible, to allow it enough time to ‘wake up from its long sleep and fly’."

Grandmother Stas sighed heavily, “Well, there is nothing we can do at the moment, except hope that throwing the stone will work as it should. Now, let us say that the sun and the rain return. What should we do with the stone then? To return it from where we took it? We are but simple villagers, this stone has no value to us, and we could invite more trouble. We do not know what forces it holds.”

Broa frowned.

“She didn’t tell us, and we didn’t think to ask her either.”

Grandmother Stas wondered.

“I remember a story about a girl who loved to tell lies... Perhaps this is something like that?” she murmured to herself.

“Broa, and what did Salikiya ask you for in return?” asked Galir.

Broa coughed and shifted. The chair creaked under him.

“Salikiya asked for nothing in return. She said we were in this together, that our troubles were common and she just wanted to contribute in order to help solve it.”

There was silence. Through the half-open window somewhere in the nearby forest, he could hear a nightingale, and his song sounded sad in the silent night. In a cloudless sky the stars twinkled. Aneako, who was sitting near the window, looked at them thoughtfully. Their dim light shone down upon her white face and her wavy fair hair that fell lightly onto her shoulders.

“When I was a child, the stars were so interesting for me. I’d eagerly wait for nightfall so that I could lie out on the grass in the yard and watch them. I never thought there would come a time when I’d want and hope that the sun would finally rise and hide them from my eyes!” Aneako turned to the others. “There’s no time to lose, Grandma. How will we choose the man to seek out Endoriel?”

“We shall think about what qualities he should possess, then each of the elders will suggest the one they consider to be the most appropriate,” Grandma Stas said.

Aneako nodded, “My choice would be young and strong.”

“Better to be fast, fearless and confident,” said Galir.

“In addition, determined, patient and skillful. He must be a hunter and be able to survive a long time, managing to find food and shelter, while he travels in search of Endoriel,” added Broa.

“He needs to have a kind heart,” said Katrina.

“How will a kind heart help against a sorceress?” asked Galir.

“A kind heart is the best weapon against anything,” said Katrina.

“It’s better to have the ability to fight, to have strength and courage. I don’t see how else we can beat the sorceress,” Galir said heatedly.

Broa said, “We need a confident and composed person for the job who can make decisions and stand by them. Strength and weapons are exactly the tools we need to have any chance against her.”

“Don’t argue,” Aneako said, “All these qualities are welcome as long as we can find them all in one person. Can you think of someone?”

They all began to think, evaluating the different people from their small village, and then slowly shook their heads.

“Something just came to me now,” said Aneako bright-eyed. “Grandma, you're the best storyteller. You know many more tales than anyone else I know. We all know much wisdom lies within them. Maybe they will tell us what to look for?”

Grandmother Stas nodded slowly and fell into a deep silence. Since most of her teeth were missing, there was nothing to separate her jaws. Her mouth was extremely wrinkled and sagged with the effort to recall the stories she had heard. After a while she rubbed her watery eyes, she made a smacking sound with her mouth and started to tell a story:

There was once a lad who was a shepherd. He was tending the flock of his mother and father in the high mountain meadows and loved to carve figures from pieces of wood.

But the time came for him to marry, and so he left the flock to his younger brothers and sisters to look after for him and went to find his bride. He shouldered his colorful bag, took a chunk of bread, a jug of yogurt, his knife for carving and prepared himself for the road.

At the door’s threshold his mother saw him off. She hugged him and kissed him saying, ‘Son, I know you're smart and you can take care of yourself, but take this advice from an old mother. When you choose your bride, do not look with your eyes, look with your heart. Make sure that she is kind and likes you because it is hard to live with a testy and cold woman, no matter how beautiful she is. And another thing, which is also very important, if you can, son, pick a bride that does not sing well. Or if she sings, do not let her sing on the way to the village, while the two of you are returning, especially when there is a mist. Come back home safe and sound, and then you will have a lifetime of songs.’

The son hugged his mother and said goodbye. He wondered at her advice, but was too eager to get on the road to question her further.

It was a nice, clear, sunny day. The meadows were blooming with flowers, the birds were chasing each other through the sky, bugs were buzzing and a breeze blew through the branches of the old trees. The young man’s heart became lighter as he walked along the path humming a tune. Soon he had forgotten all about his mother's instructions.

Some time passed. He traveled around the surrounding villages and chose a bride as beautiful as the moon with a voice like a nightingale. When she sang, all who could hear stopped their work to listen to her. The lad told himself that she was the one and was determined to win her heart. With his skillful fingers he carved figures of wood, as well as wooden plates, cups and beautiful decorations for her parents so that her parents would like him. They were so ingeniously carved and beautifully decorated, that it was impossible not to impress them. They invited the young man to dinner in order to get to know him better. He started telling them about his native village, the flocks of his mother and father, their house and about his brothers and sisters. He was such an eloquent young man, good with both of his hands as well as with his words. Everyone loved him, and the bride too, so they agreed to get married and return to his village with her.

For three days they ate, drank and were merry. The bride sang songs. Everyone grieved that she would soon go away and they would no longer be able to hear her beautiful voice, but rejoiced in the love and happiness of the two young lovers.

The time came for them to go to the young man’s village so the bride could meet his family. They promised to visit again soon. The young man, intoxicated with happiness, had long forgotten his mother's warnings and as they walked along the forest trails sang songs without a care in the world.

As bad luck would have it, the same day, halfway to the young man’s village, the weather broke and a mist fell. So, they decided to light a fire to keep warm in the cool, damp evening.

“I'm going to gather some firewood,” said the young man.

“Good,” said the bride. “I’ll sing to you and then you will be able to find your way back to me through the mist.”

The young man walked through the forest as it lay blanketed in mist, collecting fallen branches and enjoying her beautiful song. Listening to her made it easier for him not to wander too far and get lost.

Suddenly her singing stopped. He wondered what had happened, he threw the branches down and ran back. Their things were exactly where they had left them, but there was no trace of his bride. There were no footsteps other than their own.

Then the young man thought of what his mother had once told him and realized that something very bad had happened. He ran through the woods looking for his bride. He cried out for her, but the mist engulfed his cries. No one answered him. The forest was completely silent.

The next day he returned to his village, haggard and sad. On seeing him, his mother asked, “Son, what happened?”

He told her the story. Weeping, his mother said, “Ah, my son, why didn’t you listen to your old mother? You know that Endoriel lives within the mists.”

Once when I was young, I had a sister who was two years older than me. She sang very beautifully and I was even slightly jealous of her gift. Although I was prettier than her, whenever she sang, everyone listened to her only.

One day we were returning home from the fields, it was only the two us, and a mist fell so I became scared. My sister, who loved me and always looked after me, sang a song to ease my fears. The song comforted me and I even started laughing.

But suddenly out of the mist came a woman dressed all in white. She stood in front of us and stared at my sister.

‘You sing so beautifully.’ she said with her melodious voice and then took my sister's hand disappearing with her into the mists. How I got home… I do not know. My father, my mother and all the villagers searched for my sister through all the forests in the area, but never found her. Endoriel kidnapped her to take her songs, to take her voice...

The young man cried. He was without a bride, without songs.

Grandma Stas shifted in her rocking chair and, without waiting for someone to say something to interrupt, began another tale:

Once there was a girl named Deka who could embroider beautifully.

One day through the village, where she lived, just happened to pass the sorceress Marena, who was very fond of the people and their fates and loved to help them. She learned about the girl and decided to see what kind of person she was and if she liked her would give her a gift.

In a disguise she knocked at the door of the poor cottage where Deka lived. The girl opened the door. Before her in the doorway stood a middle-aged woman, dressed in ragged clothing.

‘Hey, girl,’ she said, ‘I’m a fabric merchant. Robbers stole all of my goods in a small forest not far from this village, and now I have no money to get back home. I just wanted to ask for a little water in order to give me the strength to continue on my way.’

Deka immediately invited the woman into the house, gave her water, fed her and finally gave her her best shirt not to walk with tattered clothing on her back. Then, she gave her a little money to be able to get home safely.

‘Sorry, I cannot invite you in for the night because my mother will return soon, and she doesn’t like guests.’

Marena took the gifts, thanked her and left. She was fascinated by the beauty of the embroideries and by the girl herself, so she decided to make her a gift - whatever she embroidered on her shirt would come to life as soon as the first rays of the sun appear on the horizon.

The very next morning Deka woke up and what did she see? Not one of the embroideries remained on her shirt, it was absolutely white. She went out into the yard where everything was covered with the most beautiful flowers, fruits, jugs, little chicks were poking around, and two horses grazed quietly near the fence.

What Marena did not know, however, was that Deka didn’t live with her birth mother, but with her stepmother. She was a clever and calculating woman who immediately saw an opportunity to make money from this unexpected gift. So, that evening she forced the girl to embroider two sheep and four chickens on the girl’s shirt. Then, the next morning when the animals came alive, she took them to the market and sold them. So in a few days, she managed to make a good deal of money.

After a week had passed, Marena came over again to the village to see what the girl had done with her gift. When she realized what was going on she became very angry and disappointed. She didn’t know that it wasn’t Deka, but her greedy stepmother who had been guilty of it all. Rather than break the spell, Marena decided to simply change it. She once again knocked on the girl’s door and without any explanation said to her, ‘If this is what you want to do with my gift, here's how I’ll change it. Whatever is brought to life by the first rays of the sun will later disappear with the last. And only when the embroidery on your shirt meets the sunlight, will you be able to find your home.’

That same day her stepmother again sold their wares in the market. In the evening, however, when the sun went down, everything disappeared. People felt cheated and clamored for their money back, but her stepmother had already spent it all. So since there was no way to get their money back, they drove the two women out of the village.

The stepmother, however, wasn’t about to give up so easily. She had a new plan.

‘If it’s like that, then we’ll become travelling merchants,’ she said.

Deka was told to embroider a carriage with two horses and bundles of cloth. When they came to live the next morning she loaded the cloth onto the carriage and then the two went to the nearby village. There she sold the goods, then with the money bought two real horses and the two quickly rode to the next village where they stayed at the inn. Her stepmother walked around the village, speaking to the villagers to understand what they lacked. In the evening she forced Deka to embroider bronze pots. The next morning they sold them and with the money bought a real carriage, in which they travelled to a third village. There, they delivered loaves of bread, potatoes and vegetables to the people. Day after day, they moved from village to village, inn to inn, and if they wanted to stay somewhere longer, they’d always sell their goods on the last day, so the villagers wouldn’t catch them cheating.

Deka felt very unhappy lying to people, but was afraid of her stepmother and didn’t know how to make her stop. So one day she decided that she couldn’t continue any longer and when her stepmother left to scout the next village, Deka climbed onto a horse and fled. She decided to find the sorceress Marena to explain to her what had been happening and to ask her to take the gift back.

While she was traveling without any direction because she didn’t know where to look for the sorceress, at a crossroads she met a brother and sister and asked them if they knew where to find her.

‘We know Marena. She lives in the Crystal Forest. Although she travels frequently, once a moon she returns home to check on her house and rest,’ said the sister.

‘Do you know where to find this Crystal forest?’

‘Yes,’ the brother said, ‘We’re travelling in the same direction. If you’d like, come with us.’

Thus, the three continued together along the path. When asked why she was looking for the sorceress, Deka told them her story. The brother and sister were very intrigued by her strange gift and asked her to show it to them. So that evening Deka embroidered a colorful little bird on her shirt. The next morning when the first rays touched the sky, the bird came alive, perched lightly on a branch above them and began to sing.

‘What a wonderful bird,’ laughed the sister, ‘…and how wonderfully it sings.’

‘Yes, it is wonderful, but with the last rays of the sun, its life will end,’ Deka said sadly.

The sister envied Deka for her gift. It was not a malicious envy, but she really wanted her embroidery to come alive. After the colorful bird Deka once again stopped embroidering. One night while the girl was sleeping, the sister stole her needle thinking that maybe Deka’s gift was hidden in it. She embroidered a red apple, but in the morning it didn’t come to life.

‘Perhaps, then it’s in the thread,’ said the sister and the next night while the girl was asleep, just before the sunrise, she stole the thread. Seated next to the smoldering fire she embroidered a yellow pear. So as not to fall asleep before it was finished, she quietly began to sing.

She was so distracted by the embroidery that she didn’t realize a mist had crawled out of somewhere enveloping their small camp. Then she heard soft footsteps coming up from behind her. She turned and saw a young woman wearing a long dress, staring at her.

‘Very beautiful singing,’ said the woman with a melodious voice.

The sister immediately realized that this was Endoriel – the Mistress of the Mists. She was still almost transparent, but the mist around her quickly thickened. The sister was frightened, jumped to her feet and awoke her brother and Deka.

‘Is the sun coming up soon?’ Deka asked them hurriedly.

‘Within a few minutes, but at this time of the year its rays are already weak and its heat cannot clear the mist so quickly,’ said the sister.

Deka dug through her bag.

‘Quick, my needle and thread!’ she said breathlessly while Endoriel was watching them with her deep, dark eyes, and slowly becoming more and more solid and real.

Then the sister, shame or no shame, told her that she had taken them.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Deka, ‘Give me the yellow.’

She quickly and skillfully embroidered a bright sun onto her shirt. She was still finishing its last rays when the pale light of dawn touched the horizon and the sun was brought to life, thrust up into the sky and glowed warm and bright, immediately melting the mist. And with it Endoriel disappeared.

Even today people remember this wonderful day when in the sky shone not one, but two suns!

The sister wanted to thank Deka for having saved her from the Mistress of the Mists. An idea came to her. She wasn’t sure if it would work, but there was nothing to prevent her from trying. She asked Deka to give her back the needle and thread. Then, every night after a tiring journey, while the others slept, she embroidered. Finally, on a clear morning she was ready, and when Deka woke up the sister gave her a new shirt that was beautifully embroidered. Deka put it on and because it wasn’t her, but someone else who had stitched the embroideries, as the sun rose, they didn’t come alive and the embroidery remained on her shirt to meet the sunlight. So finally the magic of Marena was dispersed. The brother and sister invited Deka to live with them in their big house and so she got a new home and a new family.

After grandmother Stas had finished telling the tale Broa, who the whole time had been scribbling something on a crumpled up piece of paper, rose and said to the others, “I think I have an idea how to find Endoriel.”


## Chapter 3. Dana


Dana was in a small clearing in the woods, staring at the sky. In the twilight the clouds were slowly changing shapes, forming into wonderful figures.

…The scars on her face and hands changed their shape...

‘It’s time’ she thought, nimble on her feet, grabbed her bow and arrows and ran through the woods.

She splashed a small creek, climbed up a steep hill and came closer to dense bushes. She lay on her stomach and crawled under the bushes. She was careful not to scratch her hands, they were all covered in long, winding lines and clad in specially tailored gloves. But there was no way to cover all your skin. Her fingers had to remain free and fast, even on cold winter days.

Deep in the bush she felt for a flat rock. Slightly to the left - there's the hole. Dana slid her hand up to her elbow, the cold inside pinched at her skin. After a little while out came her hand holding a dead rabbit.

She crawled backwards. Before crawling out, she stopped and listened. Once she was sure that no one was around, she stepped out of the bushes, jumped to her feet and ran off holding the rabbit in one hand and the bow and arrows in the other.

…The scars on her face and hands changed their shape...

Dana jumped to the left, threw the rabbit into a nearby bush, nimbly tossed the arrows to her other hand, rolled to a nearby rock and leant against it breathing quietly and listened.

In a little while footsteps could be heard coming down the trail. Step, step, step, step - every second step dragged imperceptibly. ‘Broa ‘ Dana thought and let out a sigh. Meetings with him, rare as they were, always hurt her. She unconsciously touched the scars on her face - the same as the ones marking Broa, except he had only one, and hers – were countless winding lines on her skin. She slowly came out from behind the rock, so as not to startle him. But Broa continued along the path without hearing or seeing her.

‘Strange,’ Dana thought again, ‘apparently his scar doesn’t effect him like mine. Or simply he’s just too absorbed in his thoughts...’

“Broa!” She called out to him. Startled, he turned around.

“Dana.” He breathlessly began and went back towards her, “you should come with me. We were just at Salikiya’s and must soon send someone to look for the Stone of the Winds. I think you would be the most suitable person for the job. You’re the best able to survive in the wild. The others are just ordinary villagers. Most of us haven’t been away from the village for more than three days at a time. We want to bring everyone together and decide. Come on, there’s no time to waste. They’re waiting for us in the village.”

“I know you were with Salikiya. But I no longer live in the village, Broa.” Dana said and slowly stepped back away from him. “I have no reason to come and help you.”

“I think you should come. This is everyone’s problem. This dusk and darkness is making us all crazy. This is no time to hold onto old feuds and be angry at each other. It's time to join our forces.”

Dana slowly bent down and picked up the dead rabbit from the bush. She looked at Broa behind her shoulder. Her long gray braid looked black in the twilight, and the scars on her face were barely visible.

“No, Broa, I do not owe anything to the village. But it’s not only that. I'm not the person who has to go. You need more than skill and the ability to survive.”

“How can you be so sure? And how do you know we've been to see Salikiya? Do you know what she told us? I think it's too early to decide, Dana. Come with me, I'm sure you can help.”

In one movement, Dana dropped the rabbit and walked up to Broa studying him closely.

“How worried you look and how it has deepened the wrinkles on your forehead.” She gently stroked the scar on his cheek. “But it makes you look so handsome.”

Broa stood still, not daring to move. ‘There is a really great need for my skills if he lets me get so near to him’ she thought. His eyes involuntarily turned to the scars on her face.

Dana sighed, and her eyes filled with tears. She quickly wiped them away with her free hand and stepped back from him into the deep shadows of a nearby tree.

“I know I 'm not the person you look for. The signs would tell me if I were. I followed you to Salikiya, I saw that you went with two others to her – Danil and that fool Venel. I couldn’t come more closely because Salikiya would have felt my presence, and she never loved me. But I heard what you were talking about on the way back to the village - the Mistress of the Mists… the Stone of the Winds. Survival skills - this will not help you now. No, you need something else. If I were the person you needed, the scars would have told me so. No, Broa, it’s not me... Goodbye.”

Dana whirled around and ran straight through the bushes, plucking up the rabbit as she went. She quickly faded into the twilight.

Broa was once again alone in the woods. Nearby a cuckoo bird cawed. ‘How long will there still be cuckoo birds in the woods? Will they all soon disappear as Dana did in the twilight?’ He thought and hurried towards the village, stumbling in the darkness.


## Chapter 4. Venel


Venel left the furnace to cool while he looked at his newly formed sword. "This one is even better than the previous," he thought. Slowly he turned his hand to check its weight and balance. He thrust it forward, then stepped back on the defensive with the sword over his head. "Yes, definitely good balance." Little by little he made hurried movements, squatted nimbly, jumped up stabbing the air with the blade, and then deftly pulled back. The sword flew around him, he swung within millimeters of the hanging chains and ropes, but Venel knew well of their location in his father’s smithy.

"Maybe one day the old man will be proud of me… for that alone I’ve learned to make swords. He has told me more than once that I have a talent to work with metals. Now I can show him that my talent is even greater than his. He’s never even made a sword."

For generations Venel’s family had been blacksmiths. Trogur his father and his grandfather before him, made axes, horseshoes, wagon parts and what not… but never weapons.

Since he was a small boy, Venel was always interested in tales about brave heroes who deftly used a sword or a spear or a mace, defeating monsters and rescuing beautiful girls. When his father began to teach him their craft Venel asked to make a sword. His father said that a sword would be something totally useless for their village and that it can only bring grief and trouble. Venel asked him again a year later when he was ahead of his work in the smithy and had no other duties, but his father was angry at his question and forbid him to produce any weapons, thinking that this would end the dispute.

But Venel was stubborn. He was angry with his father and secretly decided to make a sword. So he secretly tried to mimic the pictures in old books and fairy tales that he found in the village.

Then luck smiled upon him. One day, while looking for something in the attic of his house he found an old, dusty bundle, and in it - an old book. In it were descriptions of the most suitable metals for the fabrication of various types of blades and it had a variety of detailed drawings. There were also descriptions of fighting techniques and positions. Venel was crazy with joy and could not wait to try out the new knowledge. He only had to wait a few days until his father went to work in a neighboring village. The old blacksmith knew his son and his unruly temper and left him a lot of things to do to keep him busy, giving him no time for nonsense. But Venel was crafty and hardworking. He did his job quickly and began to make one of the blades described in the old book.

Since that day many years passed and Venel had already forged several swords that had found a secret hiding place under the floorboards in his room far from his father’s eyes. Thinking that everyone in the village was preoccupied with the news of the visit to Salikiya, he didn’t expect Trogur to come home to the forge, so he decided he could finish his last blade in peace.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Venel dropped the sword out of surprise and it clattered to the floor. Anger flashed over him that he got so much carried away with his training and allowed himself to be startled and unprepared. He looked stunned at the door, expecting to see his father, but instead there stood Broa who stared back at him sullenly. Beside him was Grandmother Stas leaning heavily on his arm. Broa examined the strong body of Venel and then looked down to where his sword had fallen at his foot.

“I saw chimney smoke and thought Trogur was here. I didn’t know you made weapons.”

“We don’t.” said Venel with embarrassment, trying to kick the sword as far as possible under a heavy table without being noticed.

“Whatever you say.” Broa said and looked around the room absent-mindedly. “Go on. Get your father and come. It's time.”

Venel smiled to himself. It was time. Soon it would be decided who would go to seek out Endoriel, the Mistress of the Mists. And who was stronger, more durable and better than he?


## Chapter 5. The Decision


The whole village was gathered to see who the village council would choose to seek out the Mistress of the Mists. It was morning. Or at least it should have been - it wasn't any lighter than a usual evening twilight. The sun remained absent.

The whole village council stood on a low wooden platform. The others were clustered in front of it watching them silently and grimly. Grandmother Stas was sitting in a chair, wrapped in a blanket. Broa, leaning toward her, whispered in her ear.

After a while he stood up to his full height and spoke with a deep, strong voice, “We have an exceptional situation. This time the village council shall not make the decision but rather each and every one of you shall have the right to vote aloud, as it comes down to the fate of the entire village. We have come up with three suggestions for who we believe should go look for the Mistress of the Mists. The first is Dana Hunter. The second is Venel, son of the blacksmith Trogur. And the third is Danil, the shepherd.”

Whispers exploded among the people. Venel watched contentedly. His mother stood beside him. With a worried expression she pressed his hand to stop him from going to Broa, but he easily freed himself from her grasp with a quick jerk and jumped up onto the platform. Trogur, the old blacksmith, stared at him glumly from the crowd.

Danil, on the other hand, looked very confused. People slapped him on the shoulder with relief that they weren’t chosen and pushed him up to the platform where, finally, he stood too.

Dana wasn’t to be found.

Broa looked at them and said, “We chose Dana because she has the greatest ability to survive in the wild. We chose Venel ... well… we didn’t actually choose him as much as he suggested himself.” Venel frowned, “We chose Danil because he is of a good age, neither young nor old, nor does he have any family and he has good skills in tracking and finding lost animals... He has never had any problems with anyone in the village. He is a good man.”

“Broa, in this situation the lack of family is not imperative,” a woman's voice from the crowd shouted out. “Why don't you go yourself? We need a strong man who will be able to handle the long journey and be able to handle the Mistress of the Mists… not just anyone!”

“My name was also proposed, but I don’t think I fit. We spent a lot of time thinking over all the known legends of Endoriel. This is more or less all the information we have about her, so we have no choice, but to trust in them. From the legends we know that the Mistress of the Mists is attracted to songs, no matter whether they are sung or played. As we know Danil can sing and play the pipe well… everyone has heard him play up in the high mountain pastures or on the cold winter evenings by the fire. It’s the same for Dana, so for me they’re the two best choices.”

Let Dana go!” cried out a male voice. “She can sing and she fits the requirements perfectly. She is the closest thing to a warrior that we have.”

At this point Venel pulled out his new sword from behind him - he had it hidden under his cloak with a few ropes and cloth - and began waving it around skillfully. All gasped in surprise. Only his father Trogur frowned.

Broa scowled at him. Dana's words rang in his head, ‘Venel is a fool.’

‘Yes, Dana, he is a fool..." thought Broa.

Unnoticed, he picked up a pebble and threw it at Venel and hit him just behind his ear. The young man was startled and dropped the sword.

“Venel!” thundered Broa's voice. “You have talent and if you keep practicing, you'll be good someday with a sword. But beyond technique you need something else - calmness and courage. I'm sure someday you'll find the adventure you desire so much, but now I don't think you’re right for the task. I suggest that Venel be removed from consideration.”

People nodded. Venel looked at them boldly and finally, having nothing else to do, he jumped down from the platform angrily and ran away with his sword in hand, pushing anyone who got in his way aside. Grandmother Stas looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“Ah, youth...” She said to herself and smiled.

Broa looked around. Besides the village council, only Danil was left standing on the platform, who at the moment was wondering how to hide behind the chair of Grandma Stas.

The voice of Broa once again boomed out, “I spoke to Dana and she refuses to go look for the Mistress of the Mists. Maybe if many of us insist, we can convince her, but I personally doubt it. So, our last hope remains with Danil. Everybody knows him as an honest man.”

“He still owes me ten eggs and a jug of milk.” A voice from the crowd called out. Danil looked out into the crowd for where the voice came from.

“He made passes at my wife!” Another voice said.

“That was before we got married, stupid!”

“It doesn't matter!”

“And once he knocked down my fence while he was drunk one night!” Yet another voice shouted.

“Maro, that was a hundred years ago. Then didn’t he apologize a hundred times and fix it?”

People continued announcing other "troubles" which Danil had apparently caused them, talking over one another.

Grandfather Den, who was sitting close to the ground, got up, lifted one arm and raised his voice above all the others, “He found my goat that got lost a late autumn evening a few summers ago. He looked for it for two days in the mountains, but managed to find it before the wolves did. If it hadn’t been for him, I don't know how I would have survived that winter.”

All fell silent and turned towards the old man.

“He always comes to help me kill my hens when I ask him. You see, I can't do it alone, I feel sorry for them,” an old woman said.

“He saved my son in the Deep pool in the spring. The boy went to swim, but his leg went stiff from the cold, so he would have drowned if Danil hadn’t randomly passed by.”

“He helped me move all the hay for my cows. I myself wouldn’t have managed before the fall frost. My husband had died and a lot of work came up that I couldn’t have finished alone.”

“He fixed my roof a few winters ago when it was leaking.”

Danil looked at them in amazement. He had always considered himself a very simple and somewhat shy person. However, he never refused to help, if it was in his power, and he didn't have any other more important work. It had been a long time since he had forgotten about all these things.

Broa continued, “We believe that apart from Dana, Danil is the best suited for the task among all of us. As I said before, he has no family to take care of and is the best in searching and tracking. This should help him find the Mistress of the Mists and the Stone of the Winds. He has harmed no one. Is there anyone who is against this?”

People looked at each other, but no one spoke.

“Are there any other suggestions?”

There was silence again. Danil was pale, leaning with one hand on the chair of Grandma. He couldn’t find any words to say.

“Do you have something to say, Danil?” came the croaking voice of Grandma Stas.

“But I,” he began hoarsely then coughing to clear his throat. “But I don't know where to look or how to defeat her. I don't know if I can handle it...”

Broa put a heavy hand on his shoulder and said in a soft voice, “None of us knows. None of us has faced such a force and with such a task. The Council has thought long and hard about this and thinks you're the best suited. You will not be alone, all of our thoughts and hopes will be with you.”

“If you ask me, I'll be all alone...”

“Danil, now you can quit if you choose so. But consider what this means for the village. Think if there is better suited than you. The fate of all of us is at stake. Without the sun and rain, we will not survive for much longer. The choice is difficult, the task is hard, but it is not impossible. You have to decide now. Do you agree to seek out Endoriel?”

Danil looked at Broa with an anxious expression. He saw the determination in his eyes, convinced that he is the one who should go. He gazed out at the assembled villagers. All staring at him with hope, some smiled at him encouragingly. Grandma Stas’ bony hand reached out and grabbed his wrist. Danil looked down at her. In her dim old eyes he saw her confidence and hope. Hope for their village, for the future, for the sun and rain.

“I'll go...” he whispered.

“Great!” Broa clapped his hands and announced the end of the meeting. “Tomorrow you leave.”

Then he grabbed Danil by his shoulder and led him to Grandmother's house. The rest of the village council stayed there to talk to the people. Only Katrina caught Grandmother’s hand to help walk her to her house.


## Chapter 6. The Departure


Early the next morning, while it was still dark, Danil was lying on the floor of one of the rooms in the house of Grandmother Stas on several sheepskins wrapped up with a thick wool blanket. Somewhere in the village a rooster crowed. On a normal morning dawn would be breaking, and the sun would soon be shining, but it wasn’t a normal morning and it was still quite dark. A little later the harsh twilight would appear to linger through the day.

The rooster crowed again, somehow quizzically, as if wondering why that even after his morning song the sun still didn’t rise.

All yesterday afternoon Broa and Aneako accepted good wishes and gifts from the villagers. Everyone wanted to pay their respects and give their best wishes to Danil, who so bravely had agreed to go looking for the most frightening sorceress who haunted all their legends.

‘Brave…? Agreed to go?’ thought Danil. ‘Did I have a choice? How could I abandon the villagers? After all, if I don't go, we’re all going to perish. I don't think we can survive much longer without sun and rain. Our food will run out and the rivers have already begun to dry up. Even the venerable oak tree begins to dry… how could we survive? Maybe if I’m not able to beat her, they will send someone else to do the job? Even if I fail, there will still be hope for the people. Maybe Venel will grow up and then they will send him?’ Such thoughts repeated in Danil’s mind all night while he was turning in the bed and trying to sleep.

The door of his room creaked open. The head of Broa appeared.

“Well, could you sleep?”

Danil just shook his head.

“Neither could we.” Broa smiled wearily. “Well, everything is ready for your departure. Ready? You haven’t given up, yet?”

Danil shook his head again, and they both went into the other room. There they said goodbye to Grandma Stas and Katrina. Grandma gave him a woolen scarf saying that she made it herself in her youth. It was probably true, as it looked very old and thin in places.

“It will warm you well,” she said.

Katrina gave him a storybook. Hurried and confused she told him its story - her grandmother, the mother of her mother, was not from this land. She could read, write and draw very beautifully and she loved fairy tales very much.

“She herself drew and wrote the stories in this book when my older sister was born. Then we were born along with my brother and she would read them all to us. When we were small we liked to look at it, to trace the drawings and the letters. Unfortunately, none of us inherited her talent for drawing.”

Some of the stories were from Katrina’s grandmother’s home and the others were learnt after her being married and living in their village.

“Katrina, I can't accept such a gift.” Danil said and handed her back the beautifully painted book. “It’s invaluable to you and your family.”

Katrina stopped his hand, closed her eyes and shook her grey head.

“Last night I dreamed about my grandmother. In my dream she told me that I should give you the book. Keep it and hopefully it will help you in some way on your journey.” Then she turned and left.

Danil went out of the house. Broa patted him on the shoulder and handed him two cloth bags filled with food for the road.

“You took your pipe, right?”

Danil nodded.

“This is from me,” he gave him a small wooden compass. “It may help you find Endoriel, then I hope it will lead you to the Stone of the Winds, and finally back to us. We’re all counting on you, Danil… And one more thing... If you happen to see my little daughter somewhere – Aya - who got lost in the caves of A'grot, remember?” Danil nodded. “Well... You know what to do. Salikiya says she is alive and I just can't give up on her and I hope that one day… we will find her.” Broa looked embarrassed, which wasn't typical of him.

“If I happen upon her, I will do everything possible to get her back, Broa. I promise.”

Broa gave him something else. It was long and wrapped in old rags.

“Trogur wanted to find Venel and make him give us his sword, but couldn't find him anywhere. So I thought of this sword. It is very old and no one really remembers how it came to our village. For a long time no one has cared for it. There is no time to clean it up and sharpen it now, however, I think it would be good for you to take along.”

Danil took the bundle and unwrapped it.

The rags were moth-eaten and the sword itself was rusty and discolored.

“But I don't know how to use it...” He said.

Broa put a hand on his shoulder.

“None of us do. And I'm sure against Endoriel it won’t help you, but you might need it in your travels.”

Danil put everything in his bag, tied the sword on his back, said goodbye to Broa and disappeared into the morning darkness heading east in the direction of Elgora, a mountain of old, thick forests and steep, high cliffs often shrouded in fog. He hoped there to meet Endoriel, the Mistress of the Mists, defeat her and force her to tell him where to find the Stone of the Winds.


## Chapter 7. The Meeting


The forest was silent and dark . From time to time a noise would come from a bush, sometimes a frightened bird would fly away with a loud flutter.


Two days had passed since Danil left the village and walked down the long road to Elgora.


Time after time something behind him would rustle in the bushes. He pretended he didn't hear the noise and never turned around to see what or who it was. From time to time, he would absent-mindedly glance sideways to look around the woods behind him using his peripheral vision. He felt that someone was following him.


‘Soon I’ll have to stop for the night,’ he thought.


He shivered, ‘This is from the cold,’ he tried to convince himself. But the feeling that someone was watching him was sending the shivers down his spine.


Under a high rock nearby, Danil found shelter in a spacious alcove. Next to it was a large fallen tree trunk broken into pieces. He gathered up some dead branches and lit a fire. ‘There is no point in hiding. Whoever is following me, knows where I am so better forget about it and warm up. ‘ He sat down and untied the old sword that Broa had given him laying it on the ground beside him so that it wasn’t visible. Then he ate and took Katrina’s book out. The cover was painted with a woman in a long, dark dress and a sword in her hand. Behind her stood a gloomy castle, which looked like it had been woven from thousands of cobwebs, its outlines were lost in the fog. Danil flipped to a random page. It was written with the steady handwriting of Katrina’s grandmother.


"The Girl Who Loved to Lie" Danil read the title which had been written at the top of the page in large letters, painstakingly decorated with colorful quirks.


‘I don't know this one,’ he thought and began to read.


Once upon a time there was a little girl named Karisha. She had a good heart and wasn't malicious, but loved to lie. Every word she spoke was a lie without any particular reason for doing so.


Her parents tried to explain that her false words were of no benefit and that they are simply thrown to the wind without any purpose.


‘Look, Karisha, if you lose your favorite toy,’ patiently explained her father, ‘and ask me, "Dad, have you seen my toy somewhere?" If I had seen your toy and tell you the truth, you will find it much faster than if I lie to you and say I don't know where it is.’


But Karisha couldn't understand and went on lying. All the people in her village had been deceived at one time or another by one of her lies. So, they started not allowing their children to play with her in order to avoid being taught to lie. Soon no one listened to what she had to say and when they did, they certainly did not believe her words.


One day the sorceress called Marena dropped in their village. She was drawn to ordinary people and their fates and she loved to help them. She found out about the little girl and her lies, and of the fact that other children didn't like to play with her because of her lying. The little girl felt very lonely. So the sorceress decided to test her and try to help.


She knew that at lunch time the girl always went to the field to bring water to her father. Marena disguised herself as an old woman and went to wait at the forest path that led from the village to the fields.


Soon the girl appeared carrying a bag over her shoulder.


‘Hello, my child,’ the grandmother said leaning wearily on her staff. ‘Grandma has travelled a long way and is very thirsty. Would you happen to have a bit of water to quench her thirst? I will be grateful to you.’


The little girl was very curious as to exactly how this grandmother would repay her, but she couldn't manage to convince herself to tell the truth.


‘No, Grandma, I haven’t got any,’ she said, although a water-skin full of water was hidden in her bag.


‘Is there a river nearby where I can drink from?’ asked the grandmother. Her lips were cracked and she appeared weak as if she would suddenly drop to the ground. The girl, however, instead of pointing in the direction of where the creek was, pointed to the opposite.


‘If you head that way, you'll soon reach one,’ she said and ran down the path.


The sorceress, still disguised as an old woman, set off in the direction indicated by Karisha. She didn't know whether there really was a river or not, and she had to check to see if the girl was lying again. She walked for a while and eventually came to a precipice - no trace of water.


The sorceress returned to normal and stood over the deep chasm below, she reached for a small stone inside her bag and took it out. She put it up to her lips and whispered to it:


‘Winds, winds, over Karisha’s head,

untrue words shall remain unsaid!’


And threw the pebble into the abyss . While tumbling down, it quickly began to crumble transforming into a wind released from its sleeping petrified form. It flew rapidly over the forests and trees, playing with branches and grass, and then hurried to find the little girl.


Ever since that day, when the girl would tell a lie, the wind grabbed her words and carried them away before anyone could hear them. At first everyone thought that the child had simply suddenly become dumb.


‘It is because she only spoke lies,.’ discussed the villagers. ‘It's like retribution and punishment. So many people have been deceived by her words! Remember that when she lied, saying she saw Peko stealing Bayan’s sheep, which led to them quarrelling and then to a fight? Later it turned out that the sheep was just lost after having found it nearby...


The girl was very unhappy. Previously people avoided her, but now she felt even lonelier. Every time she tried to say something the wind started to blow snatching the words away, and would whisper in her ear, ‘Try to tell the truth. False words are of no benefit. They are simply wasted words.’ Karisha was angry at the wind for stealing her words and tried to catch it, to make it go away somehow, she would bounce about and jump around, clapping the air with her hands. But can you catch the wind!


‘She has gone crazy,’ the villagers said.


No matter how angry Karisha was at the wind soon she realized that she just couldn't cope with it. She either had to live without being able to talk to other people or to start telling the truth. So, little by little, she began to tell fewer and fewer lies and more of the truth, which the wind did not steal away letting her be heard by all.


‘A miracle!’ exclaimed the people, ‘She can speak!’


Not long after kids started to play with her again. She finally understood that by telling the truth, you can make real friends. Since then she never uttered another untrue word.


Many, many years later when she was an old grandmother herself, people from all around went to her for advice knowing that whatever she said – would be the truth.


Danil carefully closed the book and put it away. Then stretched out beside the fire, closed his eyes and quickly drifted off. He had spent many days and nights on the mountain meadows and was accustomed to sleeping in open spaces, sleeping lightly and waking up at the slightest noise.


So when something around him stepped on a fallen branch cracking and breaking it he immediately woke up, but didn't open his eyes, instead he continued to lie flat without a movement. The fire crackled slightly and would soon burn out. "So it's not that long ago. The wood that I lit was not so thick." There was the sound of quiet footsteps, then on the left the rubbing of clothes against a rock. Danil grabbed the handle of the sword. The footsteps stopped for a moment and then suddenly someone ran toward him. Danil jumped to his feet with the sword in one hand and with the other he threw a dry branch in the fire raising the flames. A blade flashed toward him swinging at his head. The movement was quick, but quite inaccurate and he effortlessly pulled away.


The dry branch caught fire and lit the alcove. Venel stood in front of Danil, with his new sword, shielding eyes from the firelight. Danil looked at him puzzled.


“Venel, what are you doing here? And why are you attacking me?”


“I want to prove that I'm better than you and should have been the one chosen.” he said breathlessly, then grabbed the sword with both hands and lifted it over his head, but paused in uncertainty.


Danil shook his head, then grabbed his hand and put his old sword on the ground.


“I have no doubt that you're better than me, I don't know how to use this. But what's the point? Will it change the choice of the others? Or have you decided to kill me and take my place?”


Venel shivered and watched Danil silently.


“You have never faced another in combat, have you?”


“Against whom to fight in that stupid village where nothing ever happens?” shouted Venel.


“Do you think that I wanted to be picked and that I want to go looking for Endoriel? If you're so concerned about the village and you think you are better suited than me for this quest, why don't you just let me go to Elgora and you can go looking for her somewhere else? Your chances of finding her are hardly any less than mine, even if I was selected by the village council?”


“And why don't you let me go instead?”


Danil looked at him thoughtfully, but finally shook his head.


“I cannot but go, I have given my word.” He slowly sat down by the fire with the sword at his side, watching Venel’s movement out of the corner of his eye. “Venel , you're in a much better position than me. I’m probably already doomed. I can't imagine how I would defeat the Mistress of the Mists even if I find her. You! You can go wherever you choose and you don't even have to look for her. You can search for anything you want. I know that your father wants you to inherit his forge and stay in the village, but ultimately the decision must be yours.”


Venel dropped his sword and sat down heavily against Danil.


“Easy for you to say. Nobody expects you to carry on the craft of your family and the blacksmiths in the village.”


“And how would it help you if you were chosen instead of me?” Danil threw another thick branch into the fire.


“Damn it!” Venel angrily hit his left palm with his fist. Then stood up abruptly and began to pace back and forth in the narrow space between the alcove and the fire.


“I was counting on them to choose me. So everything would have been okay, I would have left and my father would have not been able to stop me. I don't know why they chose you! You can't even hold a sword, the only thing you know about are sheep... But what happened - happened.” Venel stared with a determined look at Danil, then raised his sword from the ground, put it in its leather sheath and strapped it on his back. Danil looked puzzled.


“Where are you going?”


“I'm going west.”


“Now? Why not wait until morning?”


“I've waited long enough.” Venel said and disappeared into the darkness.


Danil stared in front of him thoughtfully in the direction where Venel left. The wind rustled the dry leaves of the trees and brought the smell of dried grass.


“Don't be startled.” he heard a voice behind him say, and, of course, was startled. He jumped to his feet and drew his sword. Behind him stood a figure in the shadows outside partially-dressed in randomly stitched together pieces of leather. A long knife with a horn handle hung on her hip. Her long gray hair bound with thin leather straps in several places to avoid getting tangled hung on one shoulder.


“Dana?” Danil asked.


She walked slowly towards him and sat in the far and the darkest side of the alcove, “I didn't mean to startle you.”


“Well, then you should have made a little noise while coming. Are you also here to do what was chosen for me to do?”


Danil didn't know what to expect. He hadn't seen Dana for more than fifteen years. Or had it been twenty? Since she and Broa went looking for some devilish witch grass for Salikiya with only Broa returning wearing a new strange scar on his face, sometimes changing its shape. Dana didn't return to the village after that, even though everyone knew she was living somewhere in the woods around. Broa didn't want to tell anyone what had happened although he was repeatedly questioned.


“I'm not here for that, Danil. I already refused Broa when he came looking for me and I haven't changed my mind.”


“Why then?”


Dana sat, gazing into the darkness outside. The fire cast faint shadows on one side of her face.


“Because I have to give you something,” she said and stood up slowly. She walked up to the fire and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in furs and handed it to Danil. He took it from her and opened it. There was a pipe similar to his. Dana went back to the end of the alcove and sat in the same place. The fire cast a strange glow on her face. It seemed covered with long lines that appeared to slowly change their shape. Danil looked at her in disbelief wondering if it was just a play of light?


Dana closed her eyes, sighed and nodded, "Well, I'll tell him then," she muttered quietly to herself. On several other occasions she would seem to begin speaking, but would always stop. Finally, without looking at him, she started:


“Many years ago, Danil, as you probably already know, both I and Broa set off on a long journey together. When Broa was only four years old, he fell ill with a severe illness. They tried everything, but he couldn't recover. Finally they were forced to take him to seek Salikiya’s help. The sorceress prepared a special potion for him and promised that it would cure him. But, of course, she wanted something in return. When Broa was grown, he would have to go and bring her some rare herbs that are found only on the western slopes of Andaegil. In the place where they grew no other light shone upon them, except that of the setting sun. So night after night, they stored up great power.


“The mother of Broa was grateful for the potion and she promised that once her son was twenty years old, he would go and gather the herbs. Salikiya gave her a wooden medallion, which Broa had to wear throughout his journey.


“So Broa eventually got over his illness and grew up with the knowledge that one day he would have to go and meet Salikiya to return the favour.


“It just so happened that when Broa was twenty, we were in love and I couldn’t bear to be apart from him for long, so I decided to join him on his journey to find the grass. None of us thought that something bad might happen.


“We walked for days. Then finally we reached the place where the herbs grew. Salikiya had explicitly told Broa to pick the herbs at sunset when their power is at their greatest, and to only take the stems without removing the roots. Broa had to also apologize to them that he was picking them as well as thank them, which seemed very funny to us. However, we followed the orders precisely, then got up from the grass and began to go back. But before we had got very far, it became very dark and we had to stop for the night.


“When I woke in the morning, I got up and looked around. We had slept in the tall grass on a slope nearby where the herbs grew. I felt strange… my head ached and seemed filled not only with my thoughts, but with thoughts of others - unknown and foreign. I was completely confused and in a daze.


“I looked at Broa as he was sleeping and I felt a slight tingling on the skin of my hands, as if something was touching me gently. For a moment I felt what he was feeling and I realized that he loved me, but... but besides me he also loved another woman! I became terribly upset and began to hit him. He woke up confused and grabbed my hands to stop me. He kept saying, ‘Dana! Your face…! What happened?’


‘What happened?’ answered my thoughts in echo. Once I thought about it, I realized that the herbs in that place, though not as strong as those demanded by Salikiya, also had power. I understood that the wooden medallion that Broa had been wearing protected him from their power, but I had been bewitched! On my face and hands there appeared these long lines… these tattoos, which react to my thoughts and tell me things... things about other people… things that I'd rather not know. Broa also received such a scar, but only one where my hand had touched his face while we slept that night.


“We travelled along the fastest path we knew to Salikiya with the hope that she could reverse what had happened and return me to who I was before. I couldn't even look at Broa since I knew about the other woman. He assured me that he loved me and I knew it was true, but I didn't want to share him with anyone else.


“We arrived at the meadow in front of the sorceress's house. Broa told me he would meet me in the woods after and handed me the bag of herbs. Trembling, I crossed the lawn. Salikiya was outside her home, staring at me.


‘Girl, what did you do?’ She asked me and studied my face. It sounded strange to hear it from her as you know she looks just like a little girl, which Broa had warned me about earlier.


“Confused I told her what had happened and gave her the bag of herbs. She clicked her tongue and shook her head. Then suddenly fell to the ground(,) her eyes flashed pure black and white. I was terribly scared and thought that I would be cursed so I turned to run away, but she grabbed my ankle and pulled me down falling towards her. After a moment Salikiya leaned over to me and whispered:


‘The herbs of the grass slope liked you and they gave you a gift. They don't know that people's heads are filled with unnecessary and confusing thoughts and such a gift for you would be rather a curse. Your only chance to make them disappear is to learn to stop thinking.’


I watched her confused.


‘Do not think!’ She repeated in a childish voice, ‘Stop!’ She laughed and said, ‘Well, not permanently, but for at least most of the time.’


‘But Salikiya, can you just give them back the gift and can I return to normal like before?’


“Salikiya shook her head pondering and said, ‘Oh… I remember now that there is a way!’ She hurried into the house and soon came out again holding a flute. ‘This is a magic flute. Now it sleeps and cannot help you, but the day will come when it will wake up and you will have to choose whether to use it for yourself to get back as before, or to give it to another who will also need it.’


‘When will that day come? Soon, right?’ I asked.


“Salikiya just shrugged and said, ‘Who knows? I don't know.’


“The scars were also silent.


“I asked her what she wanted in return for the flute and she said that when the day comes, whatever decision I make will repay one way or another, but not to her. She told me that when you take something, you have to give something, but not necessarily to the one from whom you take. Sometimes we don't even realize that when we pay back the things, which we have asked for and have received. Sometimes we pay bitterly for it, so we must be careful what we wish for. The bigger the thing we want to receive, the more we have to pay for it. I didn't understand her completely at that time, and she wouldn't tell me anything more.”


“I left and Broa was still waiting for me in the woods. But my head was filled with more and more thoughts of him, both mine and his making it unbearable to be near him, so that night while he was sleeping I crept away.”


“In the beginning I was constantly trying to blow on the flute. But it was always silent, I could not make any sound with it. The gift of the grass drove me crazy. Finally I realized that the flute would not make a sound and my only choice was to either stop thinking or go crazy.”


Dana paused. The wind rustled softly in the trees. Somewhere off in the distance an owl hooted.


“So, last night the signs told me that the moment has come. They revealed to me that you need the flute to find the Mistress of the Mists. It was awake and ready to be played. I could decide to use it for myself and be returned to my old self or give it to you. Now I understand that this was the intention of Salikiya - to give it to you… through me.”


“How did she know that you wouldn't keep it for yourself?”


“She didn't know, but had to take the chance. Maybe she saw something in me and knew that I would not keep it for myself when it comes to the fate of the entire village.”


“But, Dana, how can it help me find Endoriel?”


Dana sat, staring into the darkness outside, without even looking at him.


“I don't know if you are aware of this, Danil, but all magicians are strongly attracted to music, whether sung or played on an instrument. And this is no ordinary flute. The sound can be heard from far, far away. I know you can play well! I've heard you many times in the woods and mountain pastures. So take my advice - when you get to Elgora and when the fog falls, pick a good spot and begin to play. Then, perhaps, Endoriel will hear and come.”


Danil studied the flute in his hands. It was made from a dark wood of the finest craftsmanship, decorated with winding lines similar to those on the hands of Dana.


“What about you?” he asked. “You will have to continue to live with your scars for the rest of your life.”


Dana smiled for the first time that evening as she looked at him. The fire lit the lines on her face and her eyes sparkled.


“For years I dreamed of the day when I would be as before. But, over time, I discovered so many things about people that honestly I don't know if I want to go back among them. I see and I understand that your intentions are sincere - you are not looking for Endoriel for fame and recognition as Venel would, but instead with a desire to help others and to bring back the sun and the rain. If the village council had chosen him, I would not have given him the flute. In fact I don't know what I would have done. Fortunately I don't have to think about it.” Dana stood up, “Use it wisely.” Then she disappeared into the night.


Danil jumped to his feet, “Dana!”


But she was already gone. For a long time he stared out into the darkness and listened, "Not as if I would hear her anyways if she was around, she's quieter than a cat."


He wrapped the flute back up into the furs and put it next to Katrina’s book. Then he threw more branches in the fire.


## Chapter 8. She Came with the Mists


Danil walked east, in the direction that the sun was meant to rise. Broa's compass showed him the way. Initially, when he left his village, the land sloped downwards.


A number of weeks had already passed since his meeting with Dana and he often wondered how she was.


Sometimes he would start to clean and sharpen the sword Broa had given him. Little by little years of dirt and rust fell off and the metal started to shine through. Danil studied it with interest. Under the handle of the sword there was inlaid of a wolf, ‘I wonder how this sword came to be in our village? What does this wolf stand for?’


At other times he would think about playing his pipe. The flute Dana had given him he wouldn't dare blow nor even take it out. ‘Someday I'll have to,’ he thought, ‘but first, I should feel ready. Dana told me to choose a good place… a better place. And it should be when the mist comes.’


The days were dark and tiring, and the nights cold. Danil lay by the fire, thinking. He didn't know what to expect from his meeting with Endoriel and it scared him. He assumed that there was no chance of winning (,) after all she was one of the most powerful sorceresses.


He thought of his village and all the things he had failed to accomplish. He remembered all the people who he had helped or who he had offended. Would he ever see them again?


To distract himself from his gloomy thoughts, Danil took the book out that Katrina had given him in hopes of finding a story that he had not yet read. On one of the pages a wide meadow was drawn and at its ends, facing each other, were two shepherds playing pipes and in the middle was a flock of sheep looking at one of them. Above the picture in large letters was written, "The Two Shepherds."


"She even drew the sheep’s bells…" Danil smiled and started reading.


Once upon a time there were two brothers. From their youth they loved to outsmart each other. Their father was a wealthy man, and when they were grown up, he built for each of them a big house. The house of one of the brothers was located at one end of the village and the house of the other brother – at the other end.


It so happened that their father died and left them a large herd of sheep.


“I have to take the herd because I'm older.” The elder brother said.


“No, I should have to take it because your HOUSE is slightly bigger than mine.” The younger brother replied.


So they argued and both wanted to take the entire flock of their father, refusing to divide it equally. Finally, they realized that neither of them would abandon his claim, so the elder brother said:


“If no one wants to back down, let us then compete against each other for them. We should return the flock back to the meadows above the village and whoever can first drive the sheep to his pen, will get them. But the condition is we cannot use dogs or sticks to drive the sheep down, we can only use other means to entice them to come after us.


“Ok,” agreed the younger brother and smiled craftily.


So, the brothers brought the sheep to the high meadows above the village and they agreed the game to begin on the next day at the crack of dawn.


The morning was clear and cool. The trees were silent and their leaves were dyed in the colors of autumn. The first rays of the sun lit up small puffy clouds in the sky and colored them with the beautiful colors of the sunrise. Just then from the left side of the meadow where the flock was standing, from the path that led to the house of the elder brother, a song began to float through the still morning air. The sheep looked about and saw the older brother playing the pipe, calling to them, and so they went after him.


Seeing this the younger brother pulled out his pipe and began to play another song even better than his brother’s. The sheep heard it, turned their heads to his side of the field, saw him playing, and, of course, went after him.


The older brother didn't give up though. He played another melody, cheerful and playful. When the sheep heard it they turned back around towards him and started to go back to his side of the field, and then even further down the path to his pen.


As much as the little brother tried to outplay his brother, he failed again to lure the sheep back to his side. The elder brother was just too skilful a musician. Therefore, the younger brother packed away his pipe and ran straight down through the woods. He quickly got ahead of the flock, which was slowly trotting down the path, their bells clinking melodically along with the song of the pipe. He hid behind a rock close to the path and waited.


Soon after the elder brother appeared on the path above, coming down slowly towards the flock and playing his pipe. The younger brother remembered that when they were children, there used to be a very funny pose that always amused his elder brother which always made him laugh which would mean he wouldn’t be able to play - if he smiled, he wouldn't be able to blow on the pipe!


So when the sheep finally reached the spot where he was hiding, he jumped out from behind the rock and began to make his brother laugh with funny faces and silly dances. This happened to be so funny for his brother that he fell to the ground and began to writhe with laughter. While his brother was on the ground, he quickly lured the sheep in the other direction on the path and to his farm.


When the older brother eventually stopped laughing, he got up and saw that the flock had been lured away. He wondered what to do and then remembered that nearby there were some flowers that grew which were a favorite of all sheep. He quickly picked a large bag of them and went back down through the woods to overtake his brother on the path. He paved the ground with the flowers – beginning on the path to his brother’s house so the sheep could smell them and would catch the bait ,then twisted back through the forest to his path. When he was finished, he hid behind a log and waited.


After a while, at the top of the trail,the younger brother came playing the pipe and looking around as the flock followed him. He never noticed the flowers and walked over them, but not the sheep. They immediately smelt them and began to eat them. First they ate those scattered along the path, and then went through the woods following the trail of flowers until they came out again on the path going towards the farm of the older brother. Regardless of how much the younger brother played after them, the flowers were tastier and sweeter than his song and, so, he couldn't entice them to follow him.


The younger brother wondered what to do. It was already late in the afternoon and a low fog was settling in. The village wasn’t far off and it was soon going to be dark so he had to think of something quickly. Then he remembered that close by a certain kind of grass grew which made you very sleepy. He picked some of them, then ran through the woods to catch up with his brother and the flock walking down the path. He lit a small fire with leaves and shrubs to make it smoke heavily. When he saw his brother coming, he threw the special grass onto the fire and started waving his cloak towards it to make the smoke blow in his brother’s direction.


As the older brother got closer he could smell the smoke and wondered what was happening. But he immediately began to feel sleepy and said, "Oh, I’m just going to lie down for a few minutes. I’m almost at the village… I can rest a little." He put his back up against a log and fell asleep.


The little brother was waiting for exactly that. He threw his cloak back over his shoulders and pulled out his pipe to lure the sheep to his field. But he hadn't thought the plan through very well as not only did his brother fall asleep, but the sheep as well. They had all gone to sleep directly on the path and were all sleeping soundly.


“Wow!” The younger brother said and scratched his head, “Now what will I do?”


He began circling around the sheep and shouting at them, then took out his pipe and began playing. He was so immersed in the songs that he didn't even realize that a fog had encircled himself and his brother along with the flock lying on the path. Standing near a tree, a young woman wearing a long dress, was listening to him play and sing smiling at him mysteriously. Finally, as she noticed that the effect of the grass was beginning to fade, she approached him quietly and grabbed his arm.


“Come on,” she told him with a melodic voice, looking at him with her dark, deep eyes.


The brother was very startled but quickly pulled himself together, realizing that this was Endoriel, the Mistress of the Mists. But before he could run, she grabbed his arm and took him into the forest.


At the same time, the effect of the grass had completely worn off and the older brother woke up just in time to see Endoriel and his brother disappear into the mists that surrounded the path.


He jumped to his feet and began to shout, “Endoriel , stop! Give back my brother! Please, give him back! I'll give you the whole flock of our father… with all their brass bells! Each of them has their own voice and sings beautifully! You'll love it! I promise you will see, just bring my brother back!”


He stumbled through the woods crying out and losing his voice until he saw his brother lying next to a log. He ran to him and shook him. The younger brother opened his eyes - he was alive! The two returned to the path but there was no trace of the sheep, they had all disappeared - the entire flock.

“Endoriel heard me and took the flock,” the older brother muttered and the younger brother nodded sadly. He could no longer sing nor speak because Endoriel had stolen his voice.


Danil quickly closed the book and with a sinking heart put it aside. "Is this what is waiting for me as well?" He thought concernedly. His head was throbbing with pain so he lay down and closed his eyes, trying to sleep but his mind kept repeating the end of the story. He attempted to force himself not to think about it by imagining the meadows above his village and tried to focus on their image but it was in vain. His thoughts continued to return by themselves to the story of the brothers and Endoriel. “If only I could learn to not think, like Dana…" he said to himself. He turned around and stared up at the twinkling stars in the night sky. They were distant and cold.


After a few days Danil reached a wide river and then the path little by little began to steepen again. The forests became more dense and wild. More and more often a fog would fall.


The arrow of the compass, which Broa had given him, was not facing northwards, instead it was spinning madly. ‘I must have reached Elgora,’ he thought.


Left without a compass to tell him the direction, Danil went deep into the mountains. ‘It doesn't matter which direction I'm going anymore. I'm in Elgora. Now I’ll just wait for the fog to come and hope that the Mistress of the Mists comes with it.’ His heart clenched with these thoughts. He shook his head thinking, ‘It's like tucking yourself into a bear's den in spring time knowing that it is about to wake up… hungry.’


Old trees towered around him. It felt like they were watching over him and keeping their eyes on him wherever he went, waiting to see which way he goes and what he would do.


He passed clear mountain lakes where countless fish swam while at other times high cliffs intercepted his way.


One night Danil reached a large wide rock that had been lifted off the path. From the top of the rock he could see far, far away into the distance across the endless hills of Elgora. Although there was no sun, which could shine on the rock, it glowed red, as if lit by a fiery sunset. Down below in the hills there was thin, almost transparent mist drifting through. Danil was fascinated by the view from the rock and sat down to watch. A falcon shot off from a nearby tree and disappeared westwards, where the sunset was supposed to be... but it wasn't there, nor was the rain.


Danil took the flute that Dana had given him. The mists at the bottom of the hill were already thickening and slowly rising up the high rock. A breeze blew through his hair. Again it seemed that the tall trees nearby were bowing to him and looking around with interest. ‘I'm imagining things. These trees are completely ordinary,’ he thought and started studying the flute, the beautifully chiseled lines curled around the wood like the lines on the hands of Dana. Without thinking about it further, he closed his eyes and began to play. The song drifted far off into the hills, and throughout the mountain. Little by little, the mist from below in the hills climbed up and completely enveloped him. Everything was drowned in the silent whiteness of the mist and only the song of the flute could be heard.


For quite some time Danil played with all of his heart, enjoying the beautiful sound. He had the feeling that time had stopped, that he was the only person who existed in the whole world, only he and the song (on top )of the hill (,)and (of) the rock in the mists. By the time he finally stopped playing everything around was absolutely dark, it was quiet, and the mist lay all around him. His spine sent shivers throughout his body and he had a feeling that someone was watching him. ‘Is that the trees again?’ He thought while slowly turned around. Behind him, a few steps away, stood a young woman gazing at him. She was standing at just a distance so that if he(she) took just one step further away she would disappear back into the fog. She stood there and looked at him and the mists floating around her were glowing as if they were lit from inside by their own light.


Danil jumped to his feet startled and grabbed the sword. Endoriel didn't move. He wondered what to do at that exact moment. He felt that if he hesitated for too long… if he thought too much, then he wouldn't be able to attack fast enough and, so, he decided to act. He ran forward and swung his sword. But as he ran towards her with each step forward, it was as if (he)was sinking into a thick jelly, like(as if) time was slowing down and finally his sword completely froze in mid-air as he was trying to bring it down upon Endoriel high above his head. After a few heartbeats time began (to)tick on, and Endoriel was no longer where she had stood seconds before. She had moved a few steps to his right looking at him with her head slightly tilted to one side. Behind her in the mist were the silhouettes of two high pine trees that were leaning over her, as if they (were)looking over both of her shoulders and questioning Danil.


Without delay, he struck again with all the speed he was capable of. A branch hit him in the face, knocking him to the ground. ‘Where did that come from?’ Danil wondered as (he)rolled around on the ground. Endoriel (was again no longer where she had stood some moments before.)was again standing in the same place.


‘It's She is so fast,’ he thought. He turned and saw her standing with her back to him near his pile of belongings looking through them( at) with interest. She bent down, picked up the flute and closely went over it in her hands. Danil (sneaked)snuck up as quietly as possible behind her and swung his sword. At the exact same moment Endoriel struck at(turned to) him with one quick motion and at the same time took a half step to the right to avoid being hit by his swing, as well as gently stroking(stroked) his wrist with her hand. Her deep dark eyes stared into his. Danil felt a tingle spread through his hand and lost control dropping the sword . Endoriel swiftly caught it with subtle movement just before it was to hit the ground and then quickly backed away with it.


‘She is just playing with me!’ Danil thought. A few feet away Endoriel made a few quick swings with his sword to feel its weight. Her movements were smooth and masterful. ‘Oh, not only can she control magic, but she can also use a sword much better than me. Great. Why not just finish me and get it over with?’ (Thought Danil in desperation). Then she began to study the weapon with great interest. When she saw the design of the wolf, she looked as if it surprised her. She looked questioningly at Danil, then back towards the blade.


Without a sword, Danil started to edge backwards. Only after two or three steps, however, his back pressed up against a glass-like (an invisible)wall. ‘She has made it so I can't escape!’ He looked around and his anxiety grew. On his left side was a low twisting tree and on his right, a few steps away, a wall of rock stood. Endoriel approached him, casually swinging the sword from side to side and looked at him in the eyes. She stopped a short distance away, close to the rock wall on his right. Her eyes were deep and somehow... sad!?


‘Now she will kill me or she'll drag me to her castle, where I'll never see the sun again.’

The sun... it was already gone anyway. That's why he was searching for her in first place!


Desperate, Dannil (Danil)said, “The rain and the sun have disappeared and my village is in great peril. Salikiya told us that the only way to make them return is by finding the Stone of the Winds and that only you know where it is hidden. Can you tell me how to find it? Or... are you just going to kill me?”


Endoriel looked at him questioningly. “To kill you? Why would I kill you?”


“Well, because... you are evil and cruel..." Danil (didn’t finish it loudly)wasn’t able to finish. "Is she really evil? Doesn't she(doesn’t) look evil?" He thought and instead, he said, “... the way you handle the sword. It looks like you’re planning on using it.”


Endoriel looked at the weapon and placed it gently on the ground. She took a few steps back and then a few more, further and further away closer to the rock wall.


“I'm not going to kill you.” She said looking thoughtful. The fog around her shone with a mild luster. “I'll tell you where to find the stone. But in return you must tell me everything you know about this sword and also about the village in which you live. You must also answer all of my questions. Do you accept?”


“I Accept(accept).” Danil said stunned.


Endoriel sat down and leaned back on the rock. She drew her legs to her body and closed her arms around them. She seemed even smaller and even… defenseless. Her dark hair framed her white face and seemed to shine like the mist that hung around her.


“I don't know how much time we have together.” She said in a low voice. “When the wind blows, it will also blow away the mists, and I ( will disappear )with them. So first I will fulfill my part of the deal and I will tell you where to find the Stone of the Winds.”


Danil moved closer to hear her better. He looked at the sword, but ignored the notion to grab it. ‘With a simple sword you can't beat a sorceress,’ he thought. He sat on the ground a few feet from her.


She began to speak again in a low voice, “The stone is located in an old cypress forest(fir grove), just north of here. When you get there, you will see that a river flows through it. Go up the river and follow it to the (its) source. Once you find it, dig under the water and the roots of the fir trees. There you will find a box on which (there )is an inlaid ring. Open the box - there within lays (lies) the Stone of the Winds. Clearly, the time has come for it to wake up.”


Danil nodded. It didn't sound too hard to find the stone according to what Endoriel had just told him.


“Now fulfill your end (part).” She said. “Where did you get this sword?”


“Broa from our village council gave it to me. He said that it has always been in our village. Nobody knows exactly where it came from.” Then, suddenly, the sword flew into the hands of Endoriel. She studied the blade.


“This is the Eldre, the sword of Ildre.” She said softly then turned back to Danil, “And that name, ‘Salikiya’, is that a common name in your lands?”


“I know only one person with that name - a sorceress who lives in the mountains above our village. She knows a lot about herbs and other things. She is the one that told us to search out the Stone to the Winds.”


“Do you know where she came from?”


“No one knows. We know she is old… very old, because she has always been there in the mountains. Our grandparents have told us about her. However, she looks like a little girl with long black hair, and time seems to have stopped for her.”


“Salikiya,” Endoriel continued, “this is the name of a small blue flower that is found on the southern slopes of Andaegil.”


“Andaegil? My village is on this mountain. Not on its southern slopes, but on its western ones.”


Endoriel nodded slowly and her eyes glistened like there were smoldering embers in them. “Tell me more about your village. How do you live? What are the people there like? Tell me... everything.”


Danil began and, at first, reluctantly. He thought how boring their life was in the village and how nothing ever happened there. But Endoriel watched him attentively and with great interest, asking him a thousand questions. Little by little he became excited. He began to remember some events from the past, some of them funny , some sad. Endoriel laughed along with him for joyful tales and wept for the sad ones . It seemed to Danil that all of the stories he had heard about her were simply unreal or completely imagined.


When he told the story of Broa’s daughter, which (who) was lost in the caves of A'grot, Endoriel said, “I know these caves. I once knew A'grot. He is one of the most talented and powerful wizards I've ever met, and one of the few who have their own song.”


“Are you also one of them, Endoriel?” Danil asked.


Endoriel sadly watched the fog and shook her head. “No, not anymore. But let me tell you his story, to be able to then retell it to Broa. A'grot has always been a great idealist. He could not understand why people did evil and would try to convince them, even against their will, to be good and to live in harmony. He also could not understand why they would allow conflicts to arise.”


“But, you know, you can take a horse to the water but you cannot make it drink. One day, people went to him and told him that they no longer wished for his help, and that they were tired of living the life he had been imposing upon them. I think that painfully hurt A'grot, who had selflessly tried to make the world better than their own lives. So he decided to retire and create his own world - a world of order and justice… a magical, fantasy world without evil or hatred. His strength was great and he was able to achieve it. He left three entrances into this world.


One of them can be found in the deep caves of Andaegil, the one you have mentioned and which today are called the A'grot caves. Some of the tunnels lead to his world. If you get lost and walk in a tunnel like that, you will eventually end up there. If that happens, the moment you enter that world you forget all about the previous life you led, and the magic of this place will only reveal the good sides of your character. If Salikiya had told Broa that his daughter was still alive, but she was not either, it meant just that - that she had entered the world of A'grot. There she will not remember her parents or the village where she was born.


“Can we somehow save her?”

Endoriel shook her head, “I don't think it's possible because even if you find the tunnel within the caves, whoever enters will forget where they’ve gone and where they came from. Sorry. A'grot is a powerful sorcerer, and few would dare to confront him and his magic. Tell Broa , and I hope that it’s at least a little reassurance for him, that the world in which Aya has fallen, is beautiful and perfect. There an eternal spring reigns, the trees bloom and bear sweet fruit, and all who live there live in harmony and happiness, all memories and thoughts about the other world forgotten, the one above the cave.”


There was silence, then Endoriel again urged him to tell her more stories. At one point he thought of the book Katrina gave him and soon he pulled it out. Endoriel took it and examined it. When she read the stories, which told of her describing her as a cruel and merciless sorceress, she became very sad, but said nothing.


Danil felt as if he was with Endoriel in that fog for a very long time. He felt that he had known her for a long time, that something connected them. He wanted the wind not to come so soon and not to steal away the fog.


“Endoriel, what is the Stone of the Winds? How it will return the sun and rain?” Endoriel then told him that the stone was actually a wind that had been petrified in time many, many years ago and was now sleeping. Then, long ago, Agia - sorceress who could see into the future - had a vision that the day would come when a great trouble would befall the earth - the sun and the rain would hide and there would be no powerful wizard who would be able to help the people. So something should immediately be made to counter this calamity. Five of the most powerful wizards of that time, who were all concerned about the future of the earth worked three days without resting for even a moment, intertwining their magic in the wind. When they were done, they turned it into a stone which then fell into its long hibernation. Then they hid the stone so that no one would be able to find it until the time came for the spell to be released and to fulfill its purpose.


They buried the stone under the fountain in a fir forest, knowing that one day it must be found, and that the wind would be awakened to enable the magic to fly off with it to bring back the sun and the rain.


“To wake it up, just throw it from a high place and it will fly free.”


“How do you know all these things, Endoriel?” Asked Danil fascinated by her story.


“I know because I was one of the magicians who cast the spell. I was also given the task of hiding the stone.”


Without letting him say anything more, Endoriel rose and began to listen carefully. Danil stood.


“What is it?” He asked.


“The wind is coming.”


“I don't hear anything.”


“I don't hear it, I feel it. It’s coming soon and will disperse the fog. If you only knew how I miss the feeling of it in my hair... How many years have passed already...” Endoriel shook her head and looked at Danil decisively. Her eyes sparkled. “Find the Stone of the Winds and wake it up. Don't waste time!” Then she smiled encouragingly and held out her hand to his face as if to touch him. “I'm glad that I met....”


The wind suddenly came and began to blow… to blow the fog away, and with it Endoriel. Danil was left alone.


“… met you.” He finished her words and answered, “Me too, Endoriel... me too.”


Outside the world of the fog, the day had arrived, or rather the twilight, which had taken the place of the day. ‘We talked all night...’ Pondered Danil amazed. Next to the rock the sword of Ildre and Katrina’s book were lying. Danil picked them up and looked around. A few steps behind him was the twisted tree to where he stood as Endoriel made the invisible wall behind him. Now he saw that a little further behind from where he was leaning against the wall, was a gaping steep cliff. Danil walked to the edge and looked down. ‘One more step and it would have been the end of me! She didn't want to stop me from running... She just didn’t want me to fall off into the gorge below.’


Something tightened his heart with this thought. ‘So unfairly have we treated her. She is not at all evil, as the fairy tales describe her…’ He looked to the rock where only a few minutes earlier he was sitting with Endoriel. ‘Will I ever see her again?’ Danil thought.


Grief overwhelmed his heart. But there was nothing to do. She had gone with the wind and the fog, and the sun was still missing. Functioning as if in a dream, Danil gathered his things and took Broa’s compass. Once again it pointed in the right direction.


Danil went north in search of the old fir forest.


## Chapter 9. The Stone of the Winds


The wind swayed the dry grasses. Three days had passed since his meeting with Endoriel. Every evening he played the flute, which Dana had given him. And every night the fog came, but no Endoriel. Once he fell asleep, he dreamt of her stretching her hand out to touch him, but before she could the wind blew her away.


Danil found himself in a wide meadow. A few steps in front of him stood a forest of tall, old fir trees, higher than the rest of the trees in the mountain. Higher than all the trees he had ever seen before. Although there was a wind, not a single branch swayed. All was quiet in the forest, not a bird could be heard singing. Broa’s compass once again began to spin crazily.


“The old fir forest.” Danil said to himself. Somewhere from his right side the wind drifted by carrying a subtle mint flavor along with it. ‘Surely there is a river.’ He thought and started to walk around in search of it. He came across a little creek. It was winding slowly out of the woods and continued murmuring on through the broad meadow.


‘Now I just have to follow it to its source, then to dig up the box with the stone.’ Danil thought and turned back towards the forest. Something suddenly held him back from going forward. He had a feeling that he was about to cross over into another world.


“It’s just my imagination. It can't be so bad – a forest is a forest.” He said and decisively entered among the fir trees. The trees towered high above and their thick branches were quite dark – the dim light of dusk barely penetrated between their needles. It was quiet and only the murmur of the stream could be heard. "Well, it won't be so difficult for me to follow it." He comforted himself.


Danil went up the river. He walked for a long time, deep into the forest where the path reached a high rock overhanging the water. He couldn't pass between the rock and the stream, so he decided to go around. When he did so, he saw that on the other side of the rock there was no trace of the stream at all. It had disappeared. "It's not possible!" Danil muttered as he went back around the rock - the stream wasn't where it had just been minutes before. There weren’t even any signs that there had once flowed one.


He looked at the compass, but the arrow was still chaotically spinning.


Totally confused, Danil went around the rock again and again the stream was still missing. The trees crowded above him with their huge dark branches as if they were waiting to see what he would do.


Danil walked in random directions, from time to time stopping and listening to try and catch the murmur of the stream. But the forest was silent.


“This is madness… absolute madness,” he muttered to himself while pushing through the thick branches. “How can the stream just disappear?”


The forest seemed to become darker and impenetrable, like it was trying to stop him from looking for the stream, trying to make him turn back. Doubts began to take hold in his mind. ‘Will I be able to find my way? Will I fail? At first this task seemed so easy, but now it seems the woods are trying to stop me…’


But Danil was determined to find the stone and return the sun and the rain to their proper places. He decided not to give up, so he went back into the woods, although he felt lost and left without direction.


The old fir forest was magical. It held the treasure - The Stone of the Winds - hidden under the roots of trees and the spring of the river, and would not allow anyone to it. The forest wanted to understand his intentions, why he needed the stone and what he would do with it. When the forest realized that his only desire was to help his village and to return the sun and rain, the forest itself took him back to the river.


Danil came out from behind the thick branches that obstructed his way and found himself in front of a high waterfall. "Here it is!” He rejoiced. “The spring should be somewhere above."


He climbed up the steep rocks. The water was falling noisily around him. Once up the top, Danil found himself in front of a small lake, which fed the waterfall. It was surrounded on all sides by tall fir trees that grew upon its own shores. Danil went around to find a river that flowed into it nourishing it with water. Then he had to continue up to its source, but there was no river. Nothing flowed into the lake.


‘Huh? Damn it!’ Danil thought.


Confused, he took off his bag and sat down up against a tall fir tree to rest. He lay on his stomach and bent to drink and wash his face. The lake was shallow and the water was smooth as a mirror without a single ripple on the surface. Danil looked at it with admiration.


And then he saw it. Beneath the huge fir tree where he had decided to rest on the sandy bottom of the pond there were tiny bubbles rising to the water’s glassy surface. "The spring is in the lake!" He marveled, and dipped his hands into the water to dig the sand. After a while, he felt something hard and pulled it out. Just as Endoriel had told him it was an old, dark wooden box inlaid with a ring on its lid.


"How has it not rotted away being in the water for so long? Probably some magic kept it protected." Questioned Danil as he opened it. A rough looking stone was lying inside. It looked no different from any other stone. He took it out and without wasting any more time, he got up and went to the edge where the water from the pond fell into the waterfall. He looked cautiously down - it seemed high enough.


“I hope this works to wake you up otherwise I don't know how I will find you in the woods again.” Danil said to the stone and then he threw it with all his strength. It fell rapidly down until at one point, shortly before it disappeared among the tree tops, it shattered into thousands of tiny pieces of grit, turned into a cloud and flew far, far above the forests and hills. The firs shook violently as it blew past them and their old branches creaked loudly.


Danil gazed out after the sand cloud as it blew away for quite some time, expecting something else to happen until, exhausted and a bit disappointed, he lay down beside the lake and fell asleep.


## Chapter 10. The Memories of Salikiya


Warm rays penetrated the branches of the old firs and danced on the water of the pond. Dannil woke up and couldn't believe his eyes. The sun had returned. He pulled out Broa's compass and saw that it was again pointing in the right direction.


Danil walked back to Andaegil . Along the way the sun was shining, rain was falling, but all he did was smile. It took him a long time to get back to the village. His fellow villagers staged a great welcome and spent a few days together celebrating the return of the sun and rain.


Then life once again carried on as usual.


But not for Danil. He couldn't stop thinking about Endoriel. He thought about how she was all alone in the mist and it saddened him how everybody thought of her as evil and feared her. Whenever a fog fell, he would go out in the mountains and play the flute that Dana had given him. His song floated through the air, but Endoriel never came.


Danil finally decided he couldn't go on living this way. He gathered some of his belongings and travelled to the house of Salikiya, high in the mountains. He decided, whatever the price, he would ask her to tell him everything she knew about Endoriel. He hoped that this would help him to find her again.


Late the next night, just before the sun fell behind the hills, Danil stepped out onto the meadow where Salikiya lived. The surrounding trees were dyed a red light from the sunset. In the hearth in front of the house a fire was burning. Salikiya sat beside it poking it with a stick, her lips smiled and moved slightly as if quietly singing a song. Danil casually walked in her direction and stopped a few feet in front of her.


“Hello, Danil.” Salikiya said, without looking at him. “What brings you here?” He sat beside her and held out his hands to be warmed by the fire.


“I've come to ask you to tell me about Endoriel.” Salikiya continued to stir the embers of the fire with her wand.


“Tell you about Endoriel, daughter of the sun and sister of the rain, the Lady of the Mists, the Queen of Aegonia, a traitor to her own people and engaged to a black bear from Harnikar? What exactly do you want to know about her?”


“Well...” began Danil nervously. He felt that Salikiya didn't much like Endoriel. Not only didn't she like her but also seemed to feel a deep bitterness toward her. So he felt embarrassed talking about her. But he didn't know any other way. “I met her, Salikiya, and... Well, she didn’t at all seem cruel or terrible as we often describe her in the fairy tales and legends, but rather sad...”


“Tales and Legends?” Salikiya looked at him sharply. Her eyes were black and shiny like a bird of prey’s. They looked out of place on her little baby face. “They have nothing to do with who she really is,” she said and threw a dry branch into the fire. Then she looked at Danil with her dark eyes and he felt as if she were looking inside of him. He quickly looked away as he had been told the previous time when he had come with Broa.


‘Could Salikiya herself not be as scary as we think?’ he wondered.


“All right, Danil I will tell you everything I know about Endoriel. But you know, everything has a price and you can't get something without giving something?”


“I'll give you whatever you want. But know that I don't have a lot of possessions. However, whatever you choose – it’s yours.”


“I don't need your things, Danil. You'll just have to stay here with me tonight and drink a potion that I will fix you.” Salikiya laughed out loud at his confused, doubting look. “You'll have to trust me. This is the price. Do you accept? I assure you that I will tell you all I know about Endoriel.”


Danil nodded subtly. Did he have any other choice but to trust her? As much as it frightened him, as crazy as she looked, the other option was to return to his village and continue as usual… and this he couldn't do.


Salikiya ran into the house and returned with a clay bowl filled with water, which she hung over the fire and waited. Soon night fell over the silent forest. Stars sparkled in the sky. Close by a wood an owl hooted. When the water finally boiled, Salikiya dropped a few dried leaves in the bowl and moved it further away from the fire to boil more slowly. Danil watched her and his nervousness grew.


When everything was ready, she poured the potion into two clay cups, drained hers in one gulp and then handed him the other.


“Drink!”


Then she sat down beside him and took his hands in hers. Danil was amazed how strong her hands were, although they were as thin as twigs. Salikiya stared at him, her eyes were black as a bottomless sea. Danil shook (closed) his. His head was pounding with all the things he had heard about her before. "They say that when they are black she is the most dangerous, and if you keep looking at them, they can absorb you and you can get lost in them forever, losing your mind" – he heard Broa's voice. "Salikiya is crazy, be careful with her" - said grandmother Stas with her old husky voice.


‘What did I just do?’ thought Daniel.


“Come on, Danil.” He heard Salikiya saying in a soft voice. “Look me in the eyes. I'll take you to see Endoriel.


He slowly opened his eyes and stared at her. He felt the potion starting to work - little by little he began losing feeling of his body. He couldn’t even move his hands up to his head. He could only look into the dark eyes of the sorceress, deep as mountain lakes. Now he didn’t even have the ability to think or fear. His mind began to sink down until everything was lost in an infinite darkness.


Danil found himself in a spacious hall. The walls were of stone, the ceiling was high… very high. Salikiya was beside him and held his hand. She pulled at it slightly and he leant over to hear what she had to say. She seemed even smaller than before.


“Look, Danil, this is our queen. Isn't she wonderful?”


Endoriel sat opposite them, on a huge throne. On her dark, long hair a small crown shimmered. On both sides two soldiers stood, a man and a woman dressed in light armor, girded with swords on their hips. Both were tall and thin, even skinny with ragged, short, blond hair, snub noses and freckles, looking quite ridiculous in their clothes -almost like it didn't suit them to be warriors. They were identical as two drops of water.


“These two are Ildre and Eldre – warriors twins.” Continued Salikiya, “The most faithful and intrepid warriors of Aegonia. Each word from Endoriel is law for them. Don't be fooled by their skinny look. Their strength is in their speed and skill with the weapons they use. With Endoriel and her magic behind them, together they are invincible.


Danil looked at the twins. Their skin was covered with scars. Their eyes were glowing and severe.

Salikiya continued, “Their swords are the fine workmanship of the best masters of Aegonia. Each of them is named after the sword of his twin, thus, even if they are separated, they are still together, and each of them watches the back of the other.


Danil and Salikiya approached Endoriel and the twins. They seemed very tall, even unnatural. Everything around them seemed unnaturally big. Danil recognized Ildre’s sword – it was the exact same which Broa had given him before he left to seek out Endoriel. The sword of Eldre had a similar handle, but was much shorter.


“Ildre means wolf, so on the blade of his sword a wolf is depicted,” continued Salikiya. “Ildre is as strong, tough and fearless as a wolf. Eldre means ‘blade’ or ‘something sharp.’ Her symbol is the short-eared owl. Eldre is as quiet, fast and fierce as the owl. When I lived in Aegonia every child wanted to be just like them. We had wooden swords, on which one of the two characters were carved.”


Then she pulled Danil's hand. “Come on.”


The throne room swirled and disappeared. They went into a room where a young woman had just put her baby to sleep, covered with a colorful blanket and just then a tall dark-haired man came through the door. The woman looked at him and smiled.


“It's Mom and Dad,” Salikiya whispered bitterly, “…and my little brother. Come on.” She again pulled him by the arm.


The room swirled away and then they ended up on a castle wall. People were shouting and running around, archers lined up on the wall behind the battlements prepared with bows and awaiting command. Everybody around them was very tall. Eldre passed from person to person and exchanged a few words, then patted them on their shoulders reassuringly. In one hand she held a long bow, decorated with her symbol - the short-eared owl. The wind ruffled her blond hair. Her short sword hung upon her hip. On both sides of her boots protruded the handles of knives.


Eldre stopped by a young woman squatting near the wall with a short bow in her hand.


“Shira, we agreed. You cannot fight anymore… you have a child. Go, these are the rules.

Shira jumped to her feet and the two walked away together somewhere, arguing.


On the other side, two men with braided long hair were sharpening knives and quietly talking about something, but Danil couldn't hear. Next to them, leaning up against the stone wall, were long bows and arrows.


Danil looked around. They were on the south wall. North of them lay the city, white and lit up by the morning sun, and behind him stood a towering mountain.


“Is this Andaegil?” he asked Salikiya.


She nodded. From this place the mountain and the city could be seen well. At the backside of the city, just at the base of the mountains rose a thin, tall tower.


At the foot of the castle on extensive meadows , sprawled out to the south, to the west and to the east of the city ,a huge army was preparing for the siege. Bonfires burned, dust and smoke swirled , war drums echoed, trees were felled. Here and there he could see banners on which a black bear standing on its hind legs and swinging its front paw as if to strike was embroidered.


“One day,” started Salikiya, ‘a huge army besieged our city. It was led by Varkhagor, the Black Bear from Harnikar. He is a wizard, just like Endoriel.”


Salikiya walked up to a porthole in the castle wall and leaned out to have a better view of the field below. A strong wind was blowing, but it somehow did not affect her or Danil. Her long black hair fell to her slender shoulders silent and still.


“Varkhagor had already conquered many other nations and he didn't think Aegonia was going to be a problem for him. But he was wrong. Endoriel was just as strong as him. Both had songs that made them even more powerful and neither one could beat the other.


Salikiya looked at Danil and saw that he had misunderstood.


“You would not know, Danil, but the most powerful wizards have their own songs. Even without them, they are capable of many things, but the song... with it they can do the unimaginable. To find your song is very difficult and very dangerous. Few have attempted this venture and far fewer have succeeded. Many magicians die or go insane looking for it or even after they finally find it. But those who succeed receive a great reward for their efforts. Once they acquire their song, it gives them great strength. It makes them invulnerable… or almost invulnerable. Like any great power, it has its weakness.”


Salikiya turned, took a few paces along the wall in the direction of the city and looked out at the tall tower. “This is the tower of Endoriel,” she said. “They say it has no doors, no windows, nor any stairs even. Only Endoriel knows how to get to the top of it. And only there, while alone, does she sing her song so as no one else can hear.


Danil looked at the tower.


“From there you could probably see the entire field.”


Salikiya nodded and continued, “The song, it is a living thing. When the magician sings it, he releases it to create unimaginable things, and then afterwards it returns to him.” Salikiya again grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her, “Come on.”


The fortification wall began to spin until everything went dark and they were in the hallway of the castle. Opposite them a tall man approached walking with a confident gait. His hair was dark and long, tied in a braid at the back, and his eyes were green and sharp as a bird. A wide, long, heavy sword hung on his belt. As he passed them, he looked at them and grinned. His whole being exuded menace and power. The hand of Salikiya trembled slightly.


“That was Varkhagor. I saw him in the castle shortly before his meeting with Endoriel. For a long time he has been trying to conquer Aegonia by force, until he realized that he wouldn't be able to succeed. Not while Endoriel was protecting the city would his forces be able to prevail over hers - they were equal. This was the first time he met such resistance and was angry, but also... he was intrigued. Endoriel was the first worthy opponent that he had met. In his heart was a fierce desire, a desire to be with her. He loved the strength in Endoriel. Yes, Danil, even cruel people can love. The only other thing he loved more – was power and authority. More than to be with her and to have her, was his desire to prove that he was stronger and to have her obey him and his will.


“So he decided to make her an offer she would not be able to resist. One day he came to the palace. Alone. He wasn't afraid because he knew that no one could touch him and that Endoriel would keep her word that she would talk to him without endangering him in any way. So, since he couldn't beat her, he promised her that if she ceded authority over her lands, he would share all his power with her over all the land he conquered. He promised her that she would rule over all nations as his queen and only he would have more power than her, and he would make her a gift - the gift of immortality. Although Endoriel was a powerful sorceress and was endowed with a very long life, she was still mortal. Varkhagor was sure that she could not resist this proposal… and he was right,” the frustration and pain shone in the eyes of Salikiya as she spoke. “She accepted it and gave up everything. Abandoned her own people!” Then she again pulled Danil 's hand, “Come on.”


The corridor of the castle spun around and disappeared. Danil and Salikiya stood before the ruins of a building. Around them, everything was burning, people screaming and running in all directions. From the collapsed stones in front of them a crushed hand stuck out, and close to it from beneath another stone the end of a colorful blanket could be seen.


“Just a few days after Varkhagor appeared in the palace, Endoriel disappeared and left us to our fate. Without her magic, he easily took the city. He leveled everything to the ground and killed everything that moved for revenge that we had resisted him for such a long time. He didn’t spare a single soul, not even children. Only a handful of people managed to escape into the mountains.”


Danil looked at her, stunned by the story.


“Were you one of them, Salikiya? Of those who had survived and fled to the mountains?”

She just nodded, her eyes full of tears.


“Are these your memories? So that’s why everything is so big and everyone is so tall because you were just a child when you lived in Aegonia?” Salikiya nodded again.


“Come,” she said and pulled him gently by the arm.


The burning city swirled and faded away. Danil and Salikiya were beside a river in a beech forest. It was dark and very cold. Although the trees still had autumn leaves a loose, dry snow was falling. Fog crept over the river and several people sat huddled together, leaning on the broad trunks of trees, trying to keep warm.


“This place is familiar,” Danil said. “I know this forest. It’s not far from our village.”


“We were afraid to light a fire,” Salikiya told him, “we didn't know if Varkhagor was going to hunt us down and kill us all. That autumn was very cold and some died of the frost, while others starved and others of grief. The only thing we had taken with us from Aegoniya was Ildre’s sword. Someone had found it still being clutched by the severed hand of Ildre where it lay among countless dead bodies in the streets. They had taken it as the last piece of greatness of a city that had once been, but was then forever destroyed.”


“We were all wondering if there were any other survivors who needed our help. There was a woman named Shira, who gave us no peace and constantly tried to convince us that we should go back to check. Finally two men consented and went with her. “


“When they returned they told us that the whole city was in ruins, and there was no trace of the Army of Varkhagor. No survivors had been found, but Shira told us that while they were on their way back, she had seen Endoriel receding into the misty forest. Everybody doubted her words - what could she be doing in the fog? Hadn’t she accepted the proposal from Varkhagor to rule over the whole world and abandoned us? There was no need of us. We thought Shira was wrong, but she was convinced that it was Endoriel.”


“The next day was foggy and dark when a girl suddenly disappeared. Everyone began whispering that it was Endoriel who had kidnapped her. I also believed it until two days later we found her, frozen to death. However, the stories and rumors had already taken on a life of their own and there was no turning back. From that moment on people would spread the lie that Endoriel kidnapped people and how dangerous it was to go walking in the fog.”


‘At the beginning, the rest of the survivors took care of me and we all helped each other. But then the dreams came. I started to know things about other people that they were trying to hide or forget.”


“I knew how a man was unable to rescue his family from their burning house and how he cried late each night wishing that he could have died with them. “


“I knew how a young woman saw an arrow kill the woman she loved on one of the defensive towers in the city, bitterly regretting that she hadn't managed to convince her not to fight in the battle for if she had, her lover would have lived. During the nights she would sit sideways and sharpen her knife, and her eyes burned with anger and grief.”


“I knew how a young man killed his best friend by mistake. He couldn't see him through the smoke and fog that hung in the streets during the battle, and he had mistaken him for a warrior of Varkhagor. He brought his sword down upon him… on his face and chest. When he realized his mistake, his friend was still barely alive and lying on the ground in a pool of blood. But instead of trying to help him, he ran away scared and disgusted by what he had done. Now he was going from person to person asking others whether they needed some help, as if he was trying to atone for his sin. When he sharpened his knife, he would unknowingly cut himself, his hands becoming covered with small bloody wounds that could never heal.”


“I knew how another woman made a swing from her apron on a tree branch and left her crying baby there not to give them away while she ran away from the city with her two older children - she wanted to save at least them. But then they both died of hunger and the cold… then she went crazy. Sometimes she would make a cradle on a low branch, put a stone in it and rock it singing a lullaby. “


“I knew how one grandfather was looking for their little grandchildren throughout the city when his younger son, who had no family and who was fleeing, collided into him on the street studded with flaming debris. His son forcibly dragged him outside the city. ‘Come on, Dad! Stay here! It’s too late for the others, we can't help them!’ He repeated those words again and again to him. After that the old man would wander around glancing behind trees or climbing up rocks and muttering, ‘They’ve got to be somewhere here... I'll find them… they must be here somewhere.’


“And they all blamed Endoriel for this tragedy and they cursed her. They wanted to suppress their grief, to put aside the pain and suffering, to forget. But they couldn't hide anything from me. In my dreams I saw their memories and thoughts, without even wanting to. This frightened them. Once they understood that I ‘know,’ this made them afraid and they began to avoid me completely. “


“One day I realized that their attitude towards me would never change, they wouldn’t accept my gift and, so, I left. I decided that I would either have to survive or die trying.”


“I begged the grasses, herbs and trees to help me when I left behind the company of people and they began to tell me a lot of things. They told me which berries are edible and which are not. Where the mountain has healing water. Where there are warm caves. They gave me wood to keep warm during cold days. They told me what herbs can help me for cold, which for wounds and many others...” Salikiya put her hand over her heart, “but to this day I haven't got a herb that can heal the wound that Endoriel has left inside of me.”


Her little white face streamed with tears. Filled with compassion for her, Danil hugged her, but she pushed him away. Suddenly her eyes turned black again, almost white around the iris and looked at him mercilessly with the eyes of a bird. Only now Danil realized that during all their travels throughout her memories her eyes were not those of Salikiya the sorceress who gave him the potion the night before next to the fire… they were not the eyes that looked at him now, but they were the innocent hazel eyes of a little girl.


Everything began to darken and swirl. This time Salikiya wasn't holding his hand. A question spun in Danil’s head nagging at him to ask.


“Salikiya, how is it that you don't get any older?”


“How is it?” She repeated and smiled coldly. “I have my song, of course.”


Then everything went dark.


Danil woke up in front of Salikiya’s house. He was alone. Salikya was nowhere in sight. He called out to her, but no one answered.


The sun was already high in the sky. The fireplace had long before become cold and turned to ashes. His head ached and thoughts jostled in his mind. He had learned so much that night about Endoriel, Aegonia and his ancestors. Although Varkhagor thought he had killed them all, some were able to escape. They built the village where Danil was born high in the mountains of Andaegil, away from the ruins of Aegonia.


‘So we are the descendents of that beautiful city,’ he thought. ‘The survivors of Aegonia. We kept the memory of Endoriel alive in our legends and tales, but we have made her out to be an evil sorceress to express our grief through her betrayal. Little by little, throughout the generations, the memory of this ancient city had been lost and only Salikiya keeps the bitter memory of its greatness and of its death. The only remaining object left of it is the sword of Ildre. That’s why Endoriel was so amazed when she saw it back in Elgora causing her to ask me more about it. She didn't know that there had been survivors. So that’s why she was asking me about the village and our life there.’


Salikiya had given him what he wanted - all she knew about Endoriel and in return she shared with him her memories of that time. Danil felt their heavy load. But he couldn't believe that Endoriel had really betrayed her people. He had seen her, had spoken with her and felt that she would not have been able to do that. He needed to know the truth so he would need to try and find her. He wanted to meet her again more than anything.


Next to his things he found a cloth bag full of leaves, such as those used by Salikiya the previous night. On the bag was a note, written in a childish handwriting:


‘If you want to know something, you just have to wish it! (One leaf is enough, do not use more)’


Danil packed the bag and the note. He had already decided - he would go looking for the ruins of Aegonia.


## Chapter 11. Dreams

(The True Story of Aegonia)


The road to the ruins of Aegonia was long and arduous. Every night Danil lit a small fire and cooked a leaf of the herbs that Salikiya had given him. Then he would fall asleep, tired from the day’s journey and he was off dreaming. Dreaming of the true story of Aegonia and Endoriel. So night after night, he memorized exactly what had happened.


As Salikiya told him, Endoriel was the queen of Aegonia. For many years, the kingdom enjoyed peace and prosperity. But one day, her lands were attacked by a large and powerful army led by an even more powerful sorcerer named Varkhagor.


His name carried legends, which told that he was born in a snowstorm on the icy mountain Harnikar. Shortly after he was born, his mother died, but a black bear found him and raised him as her own child. Maybe that was why people said there was no one to teach him humanity and therefore Varkhagor grew fierce and without mercy. It was said that instead of a heart he had a piece of ice from the high peaks of Harnikar and never felt pity nor mercy for anyone led by his insatiable desire to rule.


He had already conquered many other nations and they all obeyed his will. His army grew, and with it, his power. He began to imagine that he would rule the world and rule over it forever as no one had before him.


When he reached the land of Aegonia and stood at the gates of the city, Varkhagor was proud and confident on his wild black stallion. Endoriel watched him from up above on the high wall as the wind blew her dark hair and whispered in her ear the song of the war drums in front of her castle.


As he had dealt with all others previously, Varkhagor offered to spare her people as well as to allow her to remain as his deputy if she would agree to surrender the city and recognize his supreme power by raising the banner of the black bear over the towers. She refused and he threatened to level the city to the ground.


The glory of Varkhagor had arrived here long before he did and Endoriel already knew what she would have to stand against. She knew that if she gave up the city, he would spare it, otherwise there would be no mercy for anyone. Varkhagor gave her three days to decide, but Endoriel didn't need them. She immediately replied that she was not afraid of him and she would never surrender. She also added that if he didn't retreat immediately, to expect a long and exhausting war.


Varkhagor was amazed – it had been a long time since anyone was allowed to talk to him like that. Endoriel seemed to him ridiculous and small with her two twin warriors – also ridiculous with little snub noses, freckles and their thin, elongated bodies. Without hesitation, he besieged the city wanting to take it quickly and move on. He promised to himself that the fate of Endoriel and of Aegonia would be especially cruel to set an example for all the subsequent people who he would conquer.


That same evening Varkhagor sat in his tent on a black bearskin and browsed over the maps of the lands surrounding Aegonia and the southern slopes of Andaegil that his scouts had already painted. "Beech Forest," he read silently. Little was left of the broad river, crossed by a curved line, and next to it read, ‘Stone Bridge.’ He had left his mind empty of all thoughts and just his gaze slid across the map expecting things would occur to him as he had done so many times before.


The canvas door of the tent pulled aside and Devankar entered.


“You called for me, my lord,” he said.


Varkhagor could not understand the full meaning of the word. The bear had no lord and wasn’t a master to anyone, it just took whatever it wanted, but he had let them call him as they wanted.


Varkhagor gestured to a nearby buckskin and motioned him to sit down. He never allowed anyone else to touch his bearskin. Devankar sat where he was directed and crossed his legs. Varkhagor stared at him with his sharp green eyes.


“Devankar, you know that our discussions are very interesting and useful for me and I appreciate your knowledge. So far you have told me stories about many of wizards and sorceresses, but have never mentioned Endoriel. Why?”


“That's because I myself do not know much about her, “ admitted Devankar. “It's really quite strange, because although I remember reading texts about Endoriel in the libraries of Adernon, I can't remember anything of what was written in them.”


“Strange indeed...” Varkhagor thoughtfully stroked his chin. “You have such a good memory and remember so many things, even minor details. But yet you forgot the lyrics to one of the great sorceresses...”


Devankar seemed confused and didn't know what to answer. Varkhagor continued,

“Even stranger is that I tried some magic to see into her past, but couldn’t find anything about her life before Aegonia, as if she never existed before! There is definitely magic involved. There must be some spell cast upon the memory of her past and anyone who knows anything about it quickly forgets it. But no matter, Aegonia will soon fall and no one will remember it.”


“Sir,” said Devankar carefully, “I think that Aegonia is different from the other kingdoms which we have conquered. Endoriel doesn't look like a tyrant and the people live well in her land. Maybe you don't need to capture this city?”


But Varkhagor again focused on the map and almost didn't hear what Devankar said. He was too obsessed with the whole world and had long forgotten why he had first launched his military campaign.


“I remember once you told me a story about a stone bridge,” said Varkhagor. “Tell it to me again.”


Devankar sighed softly and retold the story.


The next morning Varkhagor attacked the city, intending to finish it quickly. But his enthusiasm was quickly dashed. Ildre and Eldre proved exceptional warriors loyal to death to Endoriel and her magical powers were equal to his. He could not conquer the city, nor could she drive him away.


The days went by and Varkhagor, for the first time in a long time, couldn't achieve his goal. No ideas came to him, if they did, they all failed. Ednoriel seemed prepared for everything.


Seeing that it was not easy to take the city by force, Varkhagor observed Endoriel closely to understand what was her weak spot and so, little by little, he began to get to know her better and better. He was impressed by the dedication with which she protected her people.


Endoriel watched tirelessly in her tower, rising above the city, and was ready to meet his every attack. Her warriors were ready to fulfill all her orders with complete confidence and dedication, which Varkhagor could only envy.


However, Endoriel never took the lives of enemy soldiers in vain… never ordered their deaths, unless it was absolutely essential.


Little by little he began to like her more and more.


After months of grueling battles Varkhagor finally admitted to himself that he had met a worthy opponent - something which had not happened since he had left Harnikar. He realized that this time he would need to act differently. He decided to offer Endoriel a deal. Something - he was sure - she would not be able to resist.


So he went to her castle to meet her. He was confident as he walked through the white town under the trees, it was a colourful autumn, and then along the long corridors. People moved out of the way and looked at him with fear. In one of the corridors Varkhagor saw a tiny girl with long black hair looking at him with frightened hazel eyes. He grinned crookedly as he passed her. ‘Great, let them be afraid.’ He mused in his mind.


Varkhagor entered the throne room. Endoriel was there as well as the twins. He asked to speak to her alone.


“Go on,” she said and waved them away. They walked slowly to the door, glaring at Varkhagor without blinking as they passed him. Their look and walk were very similar to one another. ‘You can tell that they spend almost all their time together,’ thought Varkhagor. ‘This is their strength, but that can it also be a weakness?’


Then he turned to Endoriel, and while Eldre and Ildre were still crossing the long room, he examined her. It was the first time he saw her so closely. His heart beat faster. Endoriel sat lightly on her huge throne in front of him, looking after the twins and waiting for them to leave. She seemed so fragile and defenseless, but he already knew that this was only an illusion. In front of him was one of the most powerful sorceresses he had ever met. ‘How could I have missed her and not known about her earlier? Why is her past veiled?’ Varkhagor looked at her hair, her fair skin and her soft body. ‘How could I have not liked her before?’


When the twins finally left the room Varkhagor spoke to her, “Endoriel, I think we are at a stalemate. Neither of us can prevail over the other. I've been thinking and I wanted to make a suggestion, which I think will interest you. If you gave me sovereignty over your land, you would be able to stay queen of Aegonia, but you can also hold power above all the other nations that I have conquered and will conquer in the future. Only I will have power greater than you. I will share with you everything I have, everything. My fame, my wealth, my land and my armies.”


Endoriel listened without interrupting. Varkhagor continued, “Let me tell you a story. There was once a mountain, where clear spring rose. But it wasn't any ordinary spring. Whoever drank from it would be blessed with immortality. I know where this spring is Endoriel , and if you accept my offer, I will give you this gift. You and I shall rule together until the end of time. We can determine the order of the world… the way we want and no one can stand against us.”


Endoriel watched him in silence with her deep, dark eyes. They showed a subtle sadness. Finally she said, “What if we imagine things differently, then what? We would follow your lead, I suppose, since you would have greater power than me. No, Varkhagor. You're wrong if you think I want to rule over many lands. I know you're wondering how come a sorceress like me would live in this godforsaken place, at the end of the world? Well, I was once like you. I was intoxicated by my power and the unimaginable things that I could do with it. But power does not come with wisdom and people make mistakes. I understand now that it is not the most important thing regardless of how great it may be, there are greater things than it. Maybe one day you'll understand as well.


“Furthermore, you can't just tell someone that you want to spend eternity with them and at the same time you want to dominate them, their lands and their people, because the two are completely incompatible.


“I don't want the gift of immortality, if I’ll have to share it with you. You may already know me well enough to know that I would never betray my own people.”


Varkhagor spoke up, “Endoriel, it won’t be betrayal. Although the first time you refused to give up, I will compromise on my principles and give you another chance. Life in Aegonia will continue as usual, nothing will change.”


“Maybe not today or even this year. But maybe one day you will decide that your army has dwindled and you need to fill its ranks with Aegonians, no matter whether they want to or not? What about when you get tired of fighting? Then what will you think of doing?”


Varkhagor fell silent, he couldn't deny that her words made sense.


“Why do you wish so much to rule over the lands? asked Endoriel simply. “What will you do with them afterwards?” She shook her head slowly. “You remind me of A'grot. He didn't want to rule the world but wanted to impose his own beliefs on good people. He didn't understand that the only way to make them better was by giving them a personal example and by working selflessly for them, with justice and love. There is no such thing as imposing good because it doesn't come from the outside, but from within. Although he meant well, it was just another part of his ego.


“Now you want to have the world and do whatever you like with it. But what will become of it, Varkhagor, once you finally achieve it? Will it be like you - filled with bitterness and a desire for revenge? You have already taken your revenge upon Ashael , Why not stop there? Why do you continue your march, blinded by your thirst for fame, power and authority?”


Endoriel stood up and pointed towards the door.


“Go! I will never obey you nor give up Aegonia.”


Varkhagor was terribly angry. He was in love with Endoriel, but he loved himself as well, and now he was hurt. He felt misunderstood and rejected. He returned to the camp and was ready for anything in order to beat her and destroy Aegonia. He closed himself off in the battle tent with his closest advisers - Devankar, Kian and Tanil to devise a plan… a plan to weaken her strength and to break Endoriel.


Two days and two nights had passed without anyone leaving the tent, until finally, at sunrise on the third day an idea came up. The plan was risky, but it could succeed. First they had to lure Endoriel outside of her castle. Through some magic, Varkhagor had learned that on the mountain above the town there was a small lake called the Lake of Tears. Nobody knew the way to it and no one went there except Endoriel or the twins.


“That’s good.” He said to the other three. “They won't expect anything to happen to them there. They know that no one knows the place and feel safe there. Now, we first need to capture one of the two twins. No matter whether it’s Eldre or Ildre. We will attack the fortress to lure them out. Early in the battle they must be split up. Only if they are apart, will they be weak enough to overcome.”


Varkhagor slowly paced around the tent. His advisers looked at him in silence with an occasional nod.


“Then we will need to act quickly. That’s when I come in - I will use the twin as bait to get Endoriel to go to the lake and once there I will steal her song.”


“But, my lord, can the sorceress’ song be stolen? Kian asked in surprise.


“I have an idea how, although no one has ever tried to do such a thing. If I succeed, then she will lose her greatest strength. After which, I can do whatever I like with her - she won't be able to resist me. The city will fall and Endoriel will be locked in a golden cage.


“Sir, “ said Tanil, “if you ask me, once weaken her power, is it not better to just kill her? Why would you risk letting her live?”


“No! “ Varkhagor quickly shouted halting in the middle of his tent. “Endoriel must live. I will give her time and I'm sure she'll come to understand and learn to love me and rule with me over the whole world.” He resumed his slow laps , again thinking of the assault. “The attacks against the fortress must be heavy in order to lure out and capture one of the twins as well as keep Endoriel busy at the same time. It is likely that the majority of our army will perish, so this will be our last chance to win. Either we succeed and capture Endoriel, or we fail and have to retreat to rebuild our forces.”


An hour later, all the details of the plan had been discussed and everyone knew exactly what their assigned role was. The three advisors bowed and left. Tanil excused himself and disappeared while Devankar and Kian stood watching the city and the mountains that towered above it from the north.


“Andaegil,” Devankar said, “some say its name means ‘large, vast mountain.’ Others think that it means ‘fire in the sky.’ Many, many years ago its highest peaks were volcanoes, and at night, when you looked at the mountain, it looked as if the sky was on fire.”


They walked through the camp to their tents. Around them, as they walked, men and women were sharpening their swords and short knives, preparing bows and cleaning their armor.


“Devankar, I have to say that four years ago when you joined us, I didn’t trust you at all.”

“Perhaps, in general, you don’t particularly believe in people?”


Kian laughed loudly with her raspy voice and shook her head. Her auburn curls touching her shoulders shook. On her forehead a leather strap was always tied to prevent her wild hair from falling into her eyes. Her battleaxe hung on her belt as usual.


“Then why do I believe in Varkhagor?”


“There are always exceptions,” shrugged Devankar.


“But seriously. You are not a warrior and do not look like a man who seeks fame and power. Why did you come with us? To this day I still can't answer that question.”


Devankar kicked a stone from their path. He looked thoughtful.


“Have you ever heard of Agiana?” Kian shook her head.


Devankar continued, “Adernon is at a crossroads and a great number of scrolls and books from all over the world are gathered in the vast library of the castle. I 've read most things there. There are some very interesting texts, which describe events with the most powerful wizards that have ever lived. As you probably know, those who dare to become wizards live for a very long time. Some of them have their own song, which prolongs their life making them practically immortal. Of course, not completely, they can still be killed. However, if it does not happen at the hands of another, likely one day they will succumb to a natural death. The song gives them great power. It is not a special skill, but rather enhances what you already have greatly. Finding your song is extremely dangerous and usually ends with the destruction or loss of your mind.”


Kian laughed loudly, ‘Well, I guess if it was easy, then even I would try.”


Devankar smiled politely at the joke and then continued, “From all the wizards of who I’ve heard of, only seven have their own songs. Two of them are Varkhagor and Endoriel. The third is Ashael and has already been killed by Varkhagor...


“... For which I'm eternally grateful and he will have my loyalty for the rest of my life...” Kian turned on her heels and bowed slightly toward the tent of Varkhagor, then continued walking with Devankar.


“The fourth is A'grot. From what I remember he went to live a long time ago in some other world, which he himself created with magic. The fifth is Valendian, but there is almost no information whatsoever and her name comes up very rarely in texts. It is believed that she lives somewhere in the south, beyond the Great Sea, and that she is the mistress of the winds and of the storms. The sixth is Dragor. It is said that he lives on top of a high, steep, rocky mountain called Kandar. He can recite to the stones secret words and spells, which they keep and protect inside themselves over the centuries. He also knows how to listen to them and they tell him unimaginable things. He found a way to do something truly extraordinary - to weave magic into the wind and then to become ‘petrified’, really turning it into a stone and thus sleeping. Later when you need to use it, all you must do is throw the stone from a high place. It wakes up and crumbles into dust letting the wind and the magic fly away freely. Other magicians have used this as well. Some texts say that Dragor actually is already bored of our world and spends much of his time in the world of stones and rocks as he himself petrifies sitting on a huge stone throne, high in the rocky mountain. Some say that he has set out to tell the stones all human knowledge, which is not a small task, because this is the safest way for them to record it forever. According to him, paper is too unreliable - it burns easily and people tend to forget and live short lives. Stones, however, can remember for centuries and would never change or molest the meaning of the words. I just hope that one day people will be able to learn from the stones and rocks what exactly Dragor confided in them.


Devankar paused and thought. Kian devoured with hunger his every word.


“Varkhagor is the youngest wizard to find his song and, as far as I know, he is the only one who has the gift of immortality and knows where the spring is. His story begins with Ashael killing his mother and nearly killing him. If he knew what fate would befall him because of his actions, he would have probably been much more careful and when he killed someone, he would make sure whether they are dead or not. I'm sure he would not have repeated the same mistake if he still had the chance. But destiny is destiny, and every action has its consequences.”


Devankar fell silent again.


“So far you have told of six wizards. Who is the seventh?


“Now we come to the heart of your question - why did I march off with you, although I am neither a warrior nor do I have any ambition for fame and fortune. The seventh of the greatest magicians is Agiana. An exceptional person who has always preferred to live a secluded life and they lost track of her centuries ago. She has a special gift beyond those of a magician, which is that sometimes she has visions of the future.

One in particular caught my attention. In it she describes someone – she usually doesn't specify whether it is male or female - who will be only half human. That person will want to conquer the world. He will be too unbalanced, good and evil will fight inside of him to each trying to rule the other and he will always walk on the razor's edge. If the evil side prevails, he will succeed in conquering the world and will be the first person to ever do so. But his evil nature will bring much sorrow, horror and suffering to the people. If, however, the other side prevails, the good side, he will fail himself and will suffer terribly.”


Kian looked at him dumbfounded.


“Wow, what a story! So in any case we lose? Either Varkhagor will run wild and be evil, or we will fail - unable to conquer the world!”


“Something like that.”


“That's why you 're with him? Because of the prophecy?”


“Yes. As soon as we delivered him Adernon, I realized that he was the one Agiana saw in her vision. He is half man, half bear. When he goes into battle, he forgets himself. Sometimes he goes beyond himself. He can kill for the slightest thing, but at the same time he can easily pay no heed to a great insult. For four years I’ve been watching him and I still cannot predict his behaviour. He tends to exhibit great cruelty, and then he wonders why he acted that way. At the same time I've seen him pay close attention to completely unimportant things. It seems to me that for him wild animals are much more valuable than people.


“Once a young eagle had fallen from its nest, which was on a high ridge that, I believe, would have been impossible for anyone to climb. Its parents had apparently decided to abandon it. Varkhagor picked it up and climbed up to the nest returning the eagle back to its home. At the same time I have seen him mutilate children when a town refuses to obey him. I've seen him cripple, kill or imprison people who hunted falcons or held wildlife captive or mutilated and killed them for fun.


“It’s easy to say that he is cruel and has no heart, but I swear to you Kian, once I saw him save a boy from a burning house in one of the cities which had surrendered and of which he was already master. After that his hands had terrible wounds on them, but with time, little by little they healed. He doesn't want anyone to know about this side of him or they may think him weak. He wants people to be afraid of him. I worry that if he continues to only show himself as cruel and continues to think himself that he is cruel, he’ll feed that side of himself much more than the other.


Kian looked thoughtful. Devankar sighed, “His decision to not kill Endoriel, gives me hope that his kindness will come through.”


“Maybe it’s just selfishness. He desires her and because of that he wants to keep her alive. What use is there in killing her if she no longer has her song?”


Devankar shook his head slowly.


“Letting someone like Endoriel remain alive when the choice is in your hands, can be exceptionally dangerous, and Varkhagor knows that very well. To take this risk, he must have an extremely good reason.”


“What can she do if he is immortal?”


“Immortality in as much as it is a gift, it can also be a cruel curse. Indeed, Varkhagor is bound to his body, but what if it is damaged enough to become unusable...?”


Kian froze in place, “Devankar, you're scaring me with these stories. I can't imagine that anything could happen to Varkhagor. If Endoriel can't beat him now, she won't be able to when her song is gone either. Varkhagor says that her strength will decrease, a great deal at that. So I don't see what there is to worry about so much.”


Devankar looked towards Endoriel’s tower rising above the city.


“I hope you're right...” He said. But his stomach was clenched and he had a feeling that something very bad was about to happen. “Kian we must do everything in our power to tip the scales in favor of his good side. Otherwise, it may become bad, really bad. And don't say a word of this to Tanil. I don't trust him very much. He looks after his own interests far too much, and he is a very good tactician.”


Kian nodded and put a hand on his shoulder.


“Come, let 's get ready. Soon the battle will begin.”


The day was dark and foggy. Varkhagor’s troops attacked the city in two places. Under the cover of the fog and at the cost of many casualties, they managed to break through the large southern gate and west gate. Ildre and Eldre had to be divided to hold them. When the warriors of Varkhagor pretended retreat under the pressure of their armies, Eldre and Ildre gave chase to push them farther away from the fortress wall, while behind they went to work repairing the heavy wooden doors. Ildre rode to the south and Eldre to the west. Then, in the fog, Eldre was ambushed. All who were with her were killed without mercy and she herself was wounded by an arrow in the left arm and was captured by the Varkhagor’s warriors. Once he realized that already had one of the twins in his possession, he immediately sent new troops to attack the fortress. Ildre was pushed back and forced to return to the castle. Varkhagor knew that Ildre would sense that something had happened to his sister and so he had to continue the attacks and keep him occupied.


An hour later, the battle still echoed in the autumn mist. Varkhagor sent more and more troops to the castle.


A chubby man with a bald head and a white apron, covered with blood, approached him and bowed low.


“Lord, whatever I tried I couldn't make her tell me where the trail to the Lake of Tears begins. She wasn’t quite... um... talkative.”


“You tried everything, did you?” Varkhagor asked absent-mindedly, without looking at him.


“Oh yes, I... I'm afraid we might have a little problem. I'm afraid that we may have hurt her a little too much.”


Varkhagor wasn’t expecting to hear such news. He turned sharply to the short man and looked at him with his sharp green eyes.


“What do you mean? Is she still alive?”


“Oh, yes, quite alive, but she is now... um, well... cannot talk... well... I'm afraid that from now on she won't have a tongue. She has chewed it off to keep the secret.”


Varkhagor was thinking. "Great! Why didn't I think of that?" He said aloud, his voice cold and filled with menace, “Let's hope that she will be helpful to me like that as well.”


He had already learned where the path began anyway using some of his magic. The interrogation of Eldre was just a show, and he even needed her to be at the end of her strength, but still alive to serve as a bait for Endoriel.


“Bring her to my tent.”


The man bowed and walked away. Varkhagor called Tanil and said to him, “Give me an hour, and then start to pull the troops back as planned. There are only a few hours left until sunset and we have a lot more work to do.”


Then he disappeared into the mist. A few minutes later he found himself in his tent. At one end a black bearskin was spread. Varkhagor lay on his back and closed his eyes. He began to imagine Eldre and little by little "shifted" memory to reality. ‘Yes, Eldre goes out of the castle on her battle horse with bow in her hand, and rides west after our retreating warriors.’ Varkhagor’s fingers were slightly clenched and ruffled the bear fur. ‘So far so good. Now, a little deception. Eldre curves more to the west, chasing fugitives to the slopes of Andaegil. They flee up the mountain, and she continues after them with her men. Up and up into the woods. An ambush waits for them. All the soldiers from both sides fight bravely and many fall decimated. Well, how dramatic. An arrow wounds Eldre in the left arm, in her shoulder – it’s exactly how it happens. Now - a new twist. Eldre can no longer shoot her bow, so she pulls out her short sword and kills two of Varkhagor’s soldiers. She looks around and sees that she is alone. All of her people are dead. The fog creeps in around her. Somewhere nearby she hears the warriors of Varkhagor closing in. Eldre’s blood drips out from under the arrow in her arm and she squeezes it tightly with her other hand,’ Varkhagor pressed his right hand against his left shoulder. ‘She understands that she can't get back to the castle, and so decides to hide at the Lake of Tears, where she believes the enemy can't find her,’ Varkhagor imagined the path to the lake, as he had seen it in his magic. ‘So she stumbles down the steep narrow path. She comes to the lake and falls to the ground just before the spring, exhausted and helpless.’


When the magic was finished, Varkhagor stood up. All it took was only a few minutes. ‘It should work when Endoriel decides to look for her,’ he thought. Slightly dazed, he took a tied up bundle lying near the entrance of the tent, threw it on his back and left. They had already brought Eldre and were waiting respectfully outside of his tent near the entrance. She looked miserable. Her hair, left hand and chin were stained with blood. Her eyes were dark and dreamy. She wasn’t able to stand up by herself without the assistance of two guards holding her up by her underarms. Her legs were limp, and one looked oddly skewed to one side. A wave of sympathy swept over Varkhagor, but he quickly suppressed it. ‘I had no choice. Endoriel left me no other choice. I have no other way to win.’


Varkhagor grabbed her away from the guards who'd been ordered to go. Eldre moaned softly. He stroked her dirty blonde hair and whispered softly, “I know it hurts, but be patient a little longer. I will not let you die now. Soon it will be over, I promise.’


Then he gently tossed her over his shoulder and ran into the mist towards Andaegil and the Lake of Tears.


Varkhagor ran tirelessly on the narrow trail with Eldre on one shoulder and a bundle in his hand. The ancient trees leaned towards him and struck him with their branches, as if they wanted him to get off the path, but he ignored them. His long dark hair was pulled back and tied with a knot bouncing off his back at every step. Despite his load, he moved much faster than any ordinary man could and it didn't take him long to climb up to the lake.


Varkhagor had already seen this place through his magic, but it was blurred and unclear. Now that he was finally there he was amazed and fascinated by its beauty. He left the bundle and set down the unconscious Eldre on the lakeshore to have a look around.


The legend goes that many, many years ago, even before Aegonia existed, in the mountains of Andaegil there was a gloomy castle. A sorcerer of whom all were very afraid lived in it. Every few years he demanded from a nearby village to give him their best girl bride, in return he promised not to destroy the crops, not to exhaust the sheep and not to destroy their homes. Once he was tired of the girl or if she became too old for him, he would ask for another.


One day the sorcerer asked for a new bride. With sinking hearts they sent him Valendian - the most personable of girls. She was pretty, smart and kind. But the sorcerer was not happy for he thought that she was not pretty enough for him. Angry he locked his bride up in the highest tower of the castle, as he vowed to cast horrible spells and have his terrible revenge on her village.


Valendian was frightened and sad. Trapped in the high tower, she stood at the window, raised her face to the full moon and cursed her fate that she hadn’t been born more beautiful so that she could save her village from the evil wizard. Then she began to braid her long blonde hair, singing sad songs and shedding bitter tears.


It just so happened that the moon heard her and felt sorry for her. The moon asked the ground below the castle not to absorb the tears of the bride. So, drop after drop, under the window of the high tower a lake eventually appeared which reflected the full moon with all its magic and beauty.


Valendian looked down and saw the lake. The water seemed to sing and call to her, "Come with me!" Struck by its beauty and fascinated by its song, she took off her clothes, jumped from the tower and dove into its deep waters. The lake was salty with the taste of her tears. The water swallowed her, but she didn't drown. Instead, she felt a great power infuse inside of her. She sensed that she could do unimaginable things with this power. She came out on the shore and singing the moon song of the lake, destroyed the castle and the evil wizard with it. She thus saved her village from his evil forever.


After some time passed, grasses and trees grew around the lake. They were not ordinary and liked to drink the salt water. They drank from it purifying it of the salt and thousands of tiny white crystals appeared on the leaves and bark. So from then on the forest always looked as if just after a frost, not with frozen water but with salt. The frosted grass would sway in the wind. Even the rocks around the lake were covered in white crystals. And beneath the roots of the largest tree a clear spring flowed with fresh, clean water.


In this forest Varkhagor was walking now and the salt crunched under his feet. He examined with wonder the bark of the trees and the frost on their leaves. He broke off a crystal and tasted it - salt!


He went closer to the big tree. Water sprang from its roots. Varkhagor leant over and drank from it. The water was clear and tasty and he quenched his thirst.


“Incredible!” he said to himself as his eyes were gleaming.


He went to Eldre and dragged her near the fountain, leaving behind them a trail of broken crystals so that it would look like she had dragged herself there. He put her down close to the water, but far enough away that she couldn't reach it. He adjusted her body to lie as it had looked earlier while he intertwined with the magic in his tent and he arranged her broken leg to look more or less normal.


Eldre regained consciousness and looked around her wildly. Her face was contorted with pain. She saw Varkhagor standing over her, and instinctively reached for her boot.

He laughed at her, “You don't think I'm stupid enough to leave you a blade, do you?!”


Eldre desperately beat him with her right hand, which was still moving. She tried to force out a scream, but her mouth only gave out a rough croak. Meanwhile, Varkhagor cleaned her chin and her forehead of the dried blood with a little water.


“Be still.”


When he stepped back, Eldre tried to crawl to the spring, but failed. She couldn't move her broken leg or her left arm, where the arrow was stuck. Her whole body ached terribly. In desperation, she tried to roll over to the lake and drown, but she couldn't even make one turn. She tried again and again.


Varkhagor stared thoughtfully at her from a few feet away.


“Great” he said, “Now we have to wait here until Endoriel comes to save you. Don't worry, I'll be around if you need something in the meantime.”


Eldre looked at him with eyes darkened from pain and exhaustion as he stood at a distance with a bundle in his hands. She tried again to crawl or to roll, but couldn't move. Her blood dripped to the ground and tinted the white salt crystals red. Tears of frustration and anger fell from her eyes and melted the salt as they hit the ground.


Varkhagor walked around the lake, taking care not to leave any visible tracks in the grass or stones. He chose a place to hide, and untied the bundle. There were clothes inside, white as snow, or more specifically - as salt. This would make it much easier to go unnoticed by Endoriel when she comes. ‘IF she comes...’ he thought. ‘No, she WILL come, I'm sure of it. She wouldn't abandon Eldre.’


Varkhagor changed the new white clothes and put his old clothes stained with Eldre’s blood into the bundle, easily lifted a huge stone and put it under it. Then he hid behind a wide tree trunk close to the water. He reached out to the lake and scooped a few drops to see if he could do it fast enough without moving his body. He repeated the movement several times. Finally he relaxed and leant up against the trunk staring at the beautiful white forest and the smooth surface of the lake’s water. ‘The hunter must be patient,’ he thought to himself and waited. The fog there was very light and airy and Varkhagor could clearly see the opposite side of the lake and the body of Eldre sprawled out a few steps away from the spring. The air was cold and damp. Soon the twilight would come, then the night would follow and he didn't have anywhere to rush off to.


Once Varkhagor troops withdrew, Endoriel walked to the throne room. Even before she arrived, however, Ildre ran up to meet her. He looked tired and disheveled and his clothes had dried blood pasted on them. His long sword hung on his thigh, and despite the recent battle, shone with cleanliness.


“Endoriel,” he said with a husky voice filled with worry, “there is something wrong with Eldre. I can't find her and no one has seen her recently. Besides I feel that something terrible has happened to her.”


They hurried to Endoriel’s room where she quickly cast a spell to see into the past and find out what had happened to Eldre. But instead of seeing the truth and without knowing that it had been a trick, Endoriel saw the vision that Varkhagor had created with his magic replacing the real events of what had happened during the battle.


“She was chasing Varkhagor’s warriors into the mountains.” Endoriel said. “Now she is at the Lake of Tears and she is hurt, but still alive. There is still time to sunset, I must hurry to get to her and help her.”


“I'm coming with you!” Ildre announced.


She took his hand and shook her head. His face looked even thinner in the pale light of the room.


“We can't leave the castle unprotected without any of us here. Besides, you know that you will slow me down. I will move as quickly as possible and hope that I won't be too late.”


Endoriel went out through the small north gate that led straight to the mountain and ran down the steep, narrow path to the lake. ‘It's cold,’ she thought. ‘This autumn is colder than usual.’


Soon it was dusk. The forest, through which the trail ran, was very quiet – not a bird could be heard, nor the wind, as if they were scared and had hidden. The old trees leant towards Endoriel and whispered, “Do not go there. Get back!"


She looked at them puzzled, “I cannot leave Eldre. She needs my help. I need to get to the lake, and as soon as possible!”


Soon she arrived to the forest frosted in small salt crystals and onto the shore. It was almost dark. Endoriel saw Eldre lying a few steps from the spring face down. She felt that she was alive, but badly injured and at the end of her strength. So she sang her song to give her new powers before it was too late. She thought she was alone on the lakeshore, and completely believed that only Eldre would be able to hear her song.


The sound of the song floated over the water. Everything around her flickered with the melody and filled with strength and life.


The tree trunk, from behind which Varkhagor was lurking, was close to Endoriel, to the left of her from where Eldre was lying. From there he could see her well without her noticing him. While Endoriel sang he listened to her entranced. He had never heard the song of another sorcerer. He knew only his own song, and compared with that of Endoriel, it now seemed harsh and uncouth. He almost forgot why he had been waiting for her up until then and why he hoped she would sing her magic song herself. It nearly became too late for him to fulfill the last part of his plan, which he was not even sure would succeed. Varkhagor shook his head to shake the magic of the music out, and when Endoriel sang the whole song and released its full power, at the exact moment right before the song reached Eldre while it still floated on the surface of the lake and was vibrating with the melody, Varkhagor quickly dipped his hand in the water and cupped out a small drop of water and with his magic he purified it of salt, froze it and it then became a little snowflake. He looked at it in his cold rough palm - so fragile, so beautiful. Then at the very next moment, before Endoriel could understand what was going on, he threw a strong wind at her and knocked her to the ground. She fell and hit her head on a rock. The salt crystals crushed below her and became stained red with her blood.


Endoriel woke up from a deep sleep. She was lying on a wet, flat stone. All around her was covered in a thick fog. She stood up painfully and staggered to one side. She rested against a tall cliff that rose vertically upward. She walked a little further on, but the cliff seemed to have no end. Against the cliffs rose tall pines. Droplets of condensed fog glowed on their needles.


This place was completely unknown to her. She felt that some magic had drained from her body. She struggled to understand what it was before it went away completely. ‘The magic of sleep and forgetfulness? Someone has made me fall asleep. How long have I been lying here on this rock?'


She sat down again and tried to force herself to remember how she got there. And why did she feel such a huge gap in herself, as if some part of her was gone? Something was wrong.


'The siege,' remembered Endoriel. She felt pain on the right side of her head. She gently put her hand where it hurt and dried blood crumbled out from her hair. Then the memories came back – the battle of Aegonia, Varkhagor's troops retreating, the vision of Eldre, the running to the Lake of Tears, the whispering of the trees. Eldre, mortally wounded, lying face down near the spring. The song...


The song...


Her song was not there! Ednoriel had forgotten it! As much as she tried, she couldn't remember its tune. She couldn't feel it in herself, feel its strength running through her blood and pounding in her heart. She closed her eyes to stop the tears. She didn't feel whole, part of her was lost, replaced by enormous grief and emptiness.


Only then did she feel a presence nearby. She opened her eyes and looked around. Varkhagor was sitting near her on a rock and looked at her sympathetically. He was dressed completely in black from his head to his toes. His dark, long hair glistened with water droplets, just like those on the pine needles - apparently he'd been sitting and watching her for a long time. His green eyes seemed to smolder with fire.


When he saw that she had noticed him he came to sit next to her on the stone. Endoriel instinctively recoiled when he reached for her.


"Endoriel..." His voice was hoarse and low. "I know you miss her terribly, but what other choice did I have?"


"How?" She asked. "How is it possible?"


Varkhagor stared at the tall pines.


"One winter I was at the foot of Harnikar. It was a cold and gloomy day and a hungry pack of wolves were sniffing out my trail. For some time they followed me, although it was quite a distance, their hunger pressed them on.


"I came to a wide river that was not completely frozen. I knew exactly where the wolves would attack and they did. With some magic I crossed to the other side of the river, but they jumped into the water, deciding to swim after me.


"Then I sang my song. And since the river was half-frozen, it felt its resistance. As if my song had been slowed ,as if it spread over time, it became sluggish and sleepy. You know that if there is water around, the song fills it, vibrates it.


“When I finally realized that I can't overcome you with the temptation of power when you refused my offer, I decided to use a trick. I remembered this story from years ago, and I told myself, ‘What if while her song is in the water, I froze it? Whether it would stay trapped inside or captured within the ice?’ Because I couldn't think of anything better to outsmart you, I decided to risk it. I had to think of some place where there is water. I would need to alter reality to make you believe that Eldre was alone at the lake. I knew you wouldn't abandon her and wouldn't send someone else to save her - who could help her more in this miserable condition than you? I took care to keep her on the edge of life and death, because I knew you would feel it when you saw her. If she wasn’t in such a bad state, you wouldn't sing your song. Of course, I was careful that she wouldn't die before you found her.


“When I heard your song, it enchanted me and I almost forgot why I was there. But I awoke quickly and at just the right time scooped up a drop of water and then froze it. My plan worked perfectly - your song became trapped and frozen in the water! I knew there was no way for you to be able to remember that the song is alive and can only be in one place - either in you, or free… or in the ice. The next thing I had to do was to put you to sleep and hide the little snowflake so that no one could ever find it. Don't worry, I’ve made sure to veil the place where it is hidden and in a way so that no kind of magic will be able to reveal where it can be found.


“And here is the last part of my plan - I had to find a suitable prison for you, a place where neither the sun nor the rain would ever be able to find you. For a long time I considered all the options. I thought about locking you in a dark forest with dense branches, where sunlight doesn't penetrate and no rain falls, but even though the branches are thick, the sun can still penetrate them, and the rain can still run down the leaves and trunks of the trees. It occurred to me perhaps in a deep underground cave might be better, but the rain falls and enters through the ground. Well then maybe the moon – in regards to the rain, it is infinitely far away... And rises at night... But then it sometimes rises during the day and with the sun visible in the sky, it would have found you there.


“And then I thought of the fog. The sun rises and it evaporates into its warm rays. If the rain falls, fog will melt under its drops. No one would ever find you there!”


Endoriel looked at him with dark eyes. They didn't contain a drop fear, just great pain.


“All right, Varkhagor, you beat me. Why don't you just kill me?”


Varkhagor was silent, staring at the trees. A mist curled around them, in some places thick while in others thin letting them become revealed.


Endoriel continued, “I only ask you to spare Aegonia and my people. Ask for what you want in return and I will give it to you. Take my life, I don't care.”


Varkhagor slowly shook his head.


“Sorry, Endoriel, but it’s too late for that. Firstly Eldre died there at the lake. She was too weak. Then I came down from the mountain, and like I said, I decided this time to break my principles and give your people a second chance to surrender. To help them make the right decision and be spared, I told them that you accepted the proposal that I had made to you a few days before giving me the city. But no one believed me. Ildre knew you had gone to the lake to look for his sister, and the rest of your people have too much faith in you. I was so stupid to think that I could convince them! Finally I had to use magic. Only then did they believe, but again refused to surrender. Therefore they condemned themselves. I burned the city and destroyed it. Now they're all dead, not a single soul was left alive. They died, believing that you abandoned them. They were worthy to their last drop of blood. Nobody prayed for mercy.”


Varkhagor looked at Endoriel. He saw sadness in her eyes and only then did he realize what he had done and how much she hurt.


“Sorry Endoriel.” He said in a low voice. “They had not one but two opportunities to save themselves. They chose their fate themselves.”


Tears flowed from her eyes. She jumped to her feet and pounded on Varkhagor with her little fists. He stood up slowly, at his full height and towered over her. She kept hitting him in the chest with all her strength. Varkhagor grabbed her hands to stop her, taking care not to hurt her.


- Endoriel it is still not too late for us. Why be sad for ordinary mortals? They would have died in a few years anyway. But you and I can be everlasting. We can be together, we can share this world. I promise you that no one will give you orders, not even me. You'll be mistress of all the lands that I have conquered. I won't be angry at your refusing me before. I will grant you immortality, and we will be together forever.”


Endoriel pushed him hard and took a few steps back. Her back rested up against a large rock.


“You killed everyone I loved and stole my most precious thing - my strength, my life. How could I be with you? I'd rather die!”


With a quick leap Varkhagor was in front of her and pulled her closer to the rock. He felt the warmth of her body and breath. He felt her magical power, still enormous although her song was gone.


“You may not fully understand your situation Endoriel.” He said breathlessly. “You have no more strength. No more your stupid wolf and owl to protect you. Aegonia and its former glory are gone. Everything is ash and has blown away with the wind. You're alone and I can do with you whatever I want. If I decide to, I can kill you. If I decide to, I can let you wander in the mists until the end of time. I know you like the light and you'll yearn for it continuously… and the mists are dark, damp and cold. No one will ever find you here – not even the sun or rain. Little by little, everyone will forget you.”


Endoriel said nothing. She just looked at him with darkened with rage and grief-stricken eyes. Powerless, Varkhagor pounded the rock beside her with his fists. Huge boulders broke off from somewhere above, from the mist -shrouded cliff and fell to the ground rumbling the earth around them.


“If that is your decision, so be it. Let the mist take me then.” She said in a low husky voice.


Varkhagor slowly pulled away from her. His shoulders were pushed down and bent forward as if he was carrying a large burden on his shoulders.


“Yes, Endoriel, now you don't love me. But you have a long time ahead of you. Just think about it and try to understand. And then, I know you will come to love me... I'm not guilty for the death of your people nor for having stolen your song. I had no choice. Really I didn't.”


Then he turned and disappeared into the fog.


Alone, Endoriel slid down the rock and sat with her back against it. She put her arms around her knees as the fog thickened and grew cold. Bitter tears streamed down her face.


Danil woke up to warm sunlight. He had finally realized the truth about Endoriel and what had happened to Aegonia and his ancestors. Endoriel hadn't betrayed them. She was not a Mistress of the Mists, but rather their captive.


"What happened to Varkhagor, where is he now?" wondered Danil as he gathered up his things.


In the cloth pouch that Salikia gave him there was only one leaf left. But he had only one more thing he had to know.


That evening at dusk Danil arrived at the ruins of the ancient city, which were all overgrown with wild bushes. He made a fire, boiled the last leaf from Salikiya’s herbs, drank the potion and fell asleep.


He found himself in the throne room. Opposite him on a high throne Endoriel sat, but she didn't seem to see him. She was holding two swords in her hands - one longer than the other. The long sword was inlaid with a wolf, and the shorter one with a short-eared owl. Endoriel abruptly stood up and swung the two swords together. From out of the collision a wolf jumped out and then an owl flying straight at him. His head rang with a voice that seemed to come from them, "Remember why you're here, Danil!"


The moment just before the wolf and the owl could reach him the throne room disappeared and Danil found himself in a vast meadow all covered with snow and lit by the winter sun. Nearby he could hear the murmur of a brook. Out of the white fir forest a large gray wolf slowly approached him, staring at him with yellow eyes. When he reached him, the wolf sat down. ‘Remember what you came to learn,’ he heard in his head with a voice which he thought was coming from the wolf.


“What is it?” Danil asked aloud.


The wolf was silent. Danil thought he was trying to tell him something, but his thoughts weren't able to reach him. Something was stopping them.


At that moment, out of the sky a short-eared owl came and attacked him. Startled, he fell to the ground and covered his eyes with his hands.


The meadow disappeared and Danil found himself in a cold, dark basement. His arms and legs were chained. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw the wolf and the owl standing on the ground before him , watching him with glittering eyes. Heavy chains from the opposite wall were fastened to the neck of the wolf and the owl's leg.


"Remember why you're here, Danil, and what you need to know." He heard the wolf in his head.


"Your time is running out. Don't let the last herb from Salikiya go to waste. His magic is strong, but if you try, you can overcome it." Said the voice of the owl in his head.


Danil became tense. What was I supposed to remember? Why was he in this basement in chains? Was there something about Endoriel I had to learn?


The wolf leaped at him, but the chain was not long enough. In the middle of his jump it pulled him back by the neck and threw him down on the ground screaming. The owl went into a violent panic on the dirt floor of his cell, trying to break free. Danil pulled on his chains and flexed his muscles, trying to break them. He felt that at any moment he would succeed and then he would be able to remember why it was that he had come to this place. Blood dripped from his wrists.


At this moment the cell disappeared and Danil found himself on a tall cliff somewhere high in the mountains. All around him was snow. A dense fog enclosed the area, but he felt that behind him gaped a deep chasm.


‘Why am I here?’ thought Danil.


Somewhere an owl hooted. Danil heard something quickly approaching him. A big grey wolf jumped on him, knocking him back into the snow. He began to growl in his face. Above the wolf a short-eared owl circled.

"Your time is almost over, Danil. Remember!" The wolf reminded him and swung at Danil with his front paw, leaving deep scratches on his face. At that moment the owl swooped down from above and began clawing at his face. "Come on, you can beat his magic," he heard her say in his head.


Despite the pain, Danil knew that the wolf and the short-eared owl were trying to help him to remember something very important. He knew that if he didn’t figure out what it was, he wouldn’t have another opportunity. So he didn't resist them but instead struggled to his feet. His face and hands were dripping blood. The wolf took a few steps back, ran at him and pushed him with his head in the abdomen making Danil fly into the abyss.


And then he remembered.


Everything swirled and he found himself on a snowy mountain top. Around him there was nothing but rocks, snow and wind.


Below someone was climbing easily up the steep slope. He was tall and well-built and on his head he wore a dark hood which kept him from the wind and concealed his face. Danil hid behind a rock nearby, although the stranger apparently didn't notice him.


When he reached the front of an icy and snowy alcove in the rocks, he pulled back his hood and revealed his face.


“Varkhagor.” Danil said to himself.


The wizard looked at something on his hand. ‘That is the snowflake that holds the song of Endoriel prisoner...’ thought Danil. Varkhagor entered the alcove and then soon came back out. He mumbled some words that Danil couldn't hear and made a few quick movements with his fingers, then descended back down.


Left alone, Danil went into the alcove. It was not very deep, but enough to not allow the sun to shine upon what was hidden inside in the eternal snow. On a pedestal of ice a little snowflake of infinite beauty lay. "Nobody would ever find it here. No one would ever climb this harsh mountain." Danil reached for it. And then he realised that the dream began to crumble. Quickly, he went outside and looked around to try to remember the location. No, he needed to see it from a distance. Danil turned to face the alcove, closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists.


‘This is a dream. Anything is possible’ he thought and pushed back hard in an impossible jump. Then, just like in a dream, he flew back away from the mountain. Then he could see and remember under which peak the alcove was hiding. Soon the herbs from Salikiya wore off and the dream faded. But Danil knew where to find the song of Endoriel. If he could find the snowflake, which was kept safe in its beautiful snowy prison, and if he could unfreeze it, the song would fly back to her and she would be whole again. She would be free.


Danil woke up next to the tepid fireplace. He felt tired - he couldn't sleep well from sipping the herb tea he had been given from Salikiya and having dreams. He looked around - wild rosehips were growing everywhere and covered the stones. In the northern part of the city the tower of Endoriel still stood, but split in two.


Only then did he notice a little old lady with kind face sitting on a rock nearby watching him.


"Hello, champion." Greeted the grandmother. "What brings you around these forgotten ruins?"


"I've come to learn the true story of Endoriel, the Queen of Aegonia." said Danil.


"And have you learnt anything , child?"


"Yes, I have."


The grandmother nodded understandingly.


"What's your name?" She asked.


"Danil. What about you?"


"Karisha."


Her name was familiar. Where had he heard it before?


"Why are you here, Grandma?" he asked.


"I'm waiting for my suiter to come," she said and looked to the west.


Suiter? She looked old and wrinkled... who would want to marry her? She was probably a bit crazy. Karisha noticed the doubting glance on Danil and started laughing.


"Don't look at me so I'm old and wrinkled, child. Many years ago I was young and pretty. At that time a young man from my village wanted to marry me. But it so happened that he had to leave for some work. He promised that it would just be a few days and he would be back soon so I promised to wait for him. We parted right here, in this place." The grandmother looked west again. "So, since then I've been coming here and waiting. But his words were empty, my child and to this day he has never come back. He has probably been lying in the ground, now, for a long time."


"Why do you wait for him then, Grandma? Why didn’t you marry someone else?"


"Because when I was little, a sorceress put a magic spell on me which doesn't let me lie. Since then, when I give my word to someone, I cannot break it. I didn't know that this promise would weigh so much and last for so many years. I still sometimes wonder if the magic was a gift or a curse. It has its good points - I know the truth about many things and I've helped many people in need. But a gift or a curse, this is my destiny and I'm not complaining."


Danil also looked to the west.


“What are you going to do now, Grandma?”


“I'll wait a bit and then I'll go back to the village. I have work to do at home and in the yard as well, and many people are waiting to ask me questions. But you, child, now that you know the history of Endoriel, what will you do?”


“I need to find a mountain.”


“Which mountain?”


“I don't know its name, I only know what its peaks look like.” Danil drew the peaks from his dreams with a stick in the ashes of last night's fire.


“I know these peaks. This is Harnikar, child. This peak here,” Karisha pointed to the top, below which the snow alcove was, “it’s called ‘The Evil Tooth.’ A magic hangs over the mountain and its always blanketed in snow, ice and cold whether its winter or summer. Why would you want to go there?”


“I have to help a person, who is dear to my heart, to regain something very valuable.”


Karisha clicked her tongue and shook her head.


“Better give up, child. Harnikar is high and steep. Wolves roam its forests, avalanches fall on its slopes and winds chisel its peaks. If you go, you may never come back.”


Danil looked at the sun. How long has Endoriel not seen it?


“I don't need to come back, just to get there.” He said. “ It would be best to show me the way if you know it.”


“So be it if this is your decision.”


Karisha took the stick from his hand and drew in the ashes and told him about Harnikar. Danil watched her and memorized her every word.


## Chapter 12. The Severe Mountain


Low black clouds darkened the sky. The snow fell in large flakes and overwhelmed everything into a deep sleep. The wind chased and whizzed around, blowing more and more snow. Somewhere far away wolves were howling.


It took a long time for Danil to reach Harnikar and whatever Karisha had told him, nothing could prepare him for the world of snow in the mountain. Storms raged and the ice paralyzed everything. Winter was his only companion during the difficult steep way up. Life in the village before meeting Endoriel, searching for the Stone of the Winds, the dream of Aegoniya, all his previous memories had become interwoven with the mountain winds and it all seemed unreal like some distant dream, as if it never had happened.


Danil felt that he had lost his way. Exhausted, he stopped under an overhang in a cliff to rest. He tried to stay awake, but exhaustion beat him and he sank into a feverish sleep. He dreamt that he was standing on white lawn and watching the sky snow. Snowflakes fell gently as if dancing. In them is a special beauty as they slowly drift to the ground. Danil reached out to the snow and watched a flake fall lightly on his frozen palm. But moments before he could touch it, the snowflake vanished and Danil appeared back at the cliff where he had stopped to rest. In front of him was Endoriel. She took his hands in hers to warm them.


“I'm cold, Endoriel.” He said with a wheezy voice.


“Go back, Danil. You will die here.”


Danil shook his head wearily.


“No, I will not give up until I find the snow crevasse here in the rocks and free your song. Only then can I die.”


“Go back, Danil.” Repeated Endoriel. Her voice was weak and distant and slowly faded. “Forget me.”


“Endoriel, I looked for you in the mist, I tried to find you but I couldn't. The flute from Dana didn’t work a second time. I'll die on this mountain and I will never see you again.”


She held out her hand to him like the night they met in Elgora and she stroked his face gently.


“Get up, Danil, don't sleep here.”


It was already clear. Danil could barely feel her touch or hear her voice.


“Please stay a little longer,” he said, his eyes glistening with tears.


“Close your eyes and you will find your way,” whispered Endoriel and then she was gone.


Danil was forced to wake up and look around. Everything was uniform and white. He closed his eyes and listened to the song of the wind and somehow felt where he should go. As if in a dream, he went in the direction of his feeling, and soon saw the highest peak, under which was the alcove.


It was a clear early morning when Danil got to the Evil Tooth. The alcove was exactly where he had seen it in his dream, and in it he found an ice pedestal with the small snowflake. Danil took it in his hand and walked out. The sun was just rising. Somewhere over the tops of Harnikar an eagle soared. Exhausted, Danil dropped to his knees in the snow being careful not to drop the snowflake and lose it. But his hands were completely frozen and cold wouldn’t let it melt. He reached out for the sun, but its heat was not enough. The snowflake was still softly resting in his hand with all its beauty.


Danil unbuttoned his coat and cloak of thick wool, undid his shirt and put his hand on his heart. Then the snowflake melted and the song sounded all around him. He didn't just hear it with his ears but with his whole body. A moment later it flew far, far away and Daniel dropped down into the snow. He had used the last bit of heat his body could produce to release the song of Endoriel. He had no strength left to come back down off the mountain. But that didn't scare him. He knew that this trip would cost him his life. He imagined Endoriel free from mists and how the wind blew in her hair. He smiled and then fell asleep.


Once released, the song went straight back to Endoriel. In the same instant the curse of Varkhagor was broken and she was freed from the fog. It came to an end on a high cliff, stretched out before her were the wild forests of Elgora lit up by the warm sun. Behind her was a small clearing surrounded by tall, old trees. Birds sang from the treetops. A breeze brought the smell of wild flowers and pollen.


Endoriel didn't even notice this beautiful and peaceful place, knowing what had happened to Danil. She knew he was in Harnikar on the snowy peak, tired and frozen, at the end of his strength and that at any moment he would die. Not sure if there was enough time to save him, without losing a moment, Endoriel stood on the cliff’s edge and sang her song. It was dangerous because she had not regained all of her strength, but it was a risk that she was willing to take. So many years had passed in the mists, in loneliness and despair, thinking that her whole nation was destroyed. It was only Danil who had seen beyond the stories, tales and legends and had gone in search of the truth about her, and finally sacrificing his life for her to free her from her eternal prison.


Its power grew with every sound that she sang and bubbling to get out. “It’s too strong, I can't bear it!" She thought. Her heart beat madly, but she continued to sing. The trees looked at her frightened and shook their branches, as if to stop it. The wind whispered in her ear, “Stop Endoriel, you will die," but she ignored it.


Soon the world around her disappeared. Only the song remained in all its beauty and strength, and flew away.


Danil opened his eyes. It was strange, but felt relaxed. He got up slowly, leaning on his elbow and looked around in bewilderment. He was in a small meadow bathed in warm sunlight. He got up and stretched – he had no feeling of fatigue or cold. ‘Have I died?’ He thought.


Then he saw a small figure lying on the rocks nearby. He ran there, took her in his arms and shook her.


“Endoriel!” He cried, but she didn't answer. Her eyes were blank reflecting the blue sky above, her eyelashes were frosted and her body was ice cold, as if she had just been in Harnikar. Danil hugged her, trying to warm her believing that it would bring her back. A breeze blew through her hair, and with it floated a tender melody.


“This is your song, Endoriel,” whispered Danil as his eyes streamed with tears wetting her hair. “Come on, take it… take it back!”


Endoriel was silent. Danil looked up.


“Can't you bring her back? He shouted into the wind, and then again bent over her cold body.


“What should I do? Tell me, please!” Why did you have to sing it now? Why did you have to help me? I was supposed to die, not you! What am I supposed to do now, without you, tell me?”


But Endoreil didn't answer him nor was her body getting any warmer.


Danil could no longer return to his village nor to his previous life. Everything lost meaning for him and a deep anguish remained trapped in his heart that even time could not heal. He began to wander the lands of Aegonia and tell others the true story of Endoriel.


## Dictionary

Mountains


Andaegil – Some say its name means ‘big, vast mountain,’ while others say it means ‘fire in the sky’ because for many, many years its highest peaks were active volcanoes and at night, if you look at the mountain, it looks like the skies are on fire

Elgora – Its name means ‘wild forest’ or ‘great forest’ (“el” – “forest”, “gora” – “wild”; but also “great”)

Hranikar – A high and eternally frozen. Its name means ‘eternal snow/ice’ or ‘covered in ice’

Kandar – A rocky mountain where the sorcerer Dragor lives


Cities


Aegonia – An ancient city and the lands around it

Adernon – The city where Davankar comes from


Characters


Grandma Stas – Village council member – the oldest living person in the village

Broa – Village council member – his name means “cliff”

Katrina – Village council member

Aneako – Village council member

Galir – Village council member

Aya – The daughter of Broa, lost among the caves of A’grot

Dana – A hunter, who lives alone in the forests around the village

Trogur – The village blacksmith

Venel – The son of the blacksmith

Danil – A shepherd, who leaves in search of the Lady of the Mists

Ildre and Eldre – Twin warriors of Aegonia. Ildre means ‘wolf and Eldre ‘blade’ or ‘something sharp.’ Karisha – the girl, who loved to lie. After she recieved her gift from Marena, many people went to seek her advice because they knew that whatever she told them – would be the truth

Devankar – An advisor of Varkhagor

Kian – An advisor of Varkhagor

Tanil – An advisor of Varkhagor


Sorceresses and Sorcerers


(with their own song)

A’grot – Lives in a magical world which he created himself with his magic

Agiana – She has visions of the future

Ashael – Killed the mother of Varkhagor in Harnikar, seeker of the fountain of immortality.

Valendian – It is believed that she lived somewhere in the south, beyond the great sea and was the mistress of the winds and the storms

Varkhagor – The sorcerer from Harnikar. His name means ‘wild bear,’ but it can also mean ‘great bear’ (“Varkha” – “bear”, “gor” – “wild”, but also “great”)

Dragor – It is said about him that he lives on top of a steep, tall, rocky mountain called Kandar

Endoriel – A sorceress and Queen of Aegonia. The Mistress of the Mists in some stories

Salikya – The sorceress who lives in the mountains above the village. Her name is taken from the little blue flower which is found on the southern slopes of Andaegil (endemic to that area)


(without their own song)

Marena – A sorceress who is very interested in the lives of ordinary people and loves to help them and sometimes she gives them gifts


Contents


Chapter 1. Salikya

Chapter 2. Seeking Her Among the Mists

Chapter 3. Dana

Chapter 4. Venel

Chapter 5. The Decison

Chapter 6. The Departure

Chapter 7. The Meeting

Chapter 8. She Came with the Fog

Chapter 9. The Stone of the Winds

Chapter 10. The Memories of Salikya

Chapter 11. Dreams (The True Story of Aegonia)

Chapter 12. The Harsh Mountain


Tales


The Girl and the Cloud

The Stolen Bride

The Magic Embroidery

The Girl Who Loved to Lie

The Two Shepherds

The Lake of Tears


The Forgotten Song

Tales from the Lands of Aegonia

Book One


Author

Nea Stand


Translated by

Rory Miller


Edited by

Stefka Petrova


www.aegonia.com