Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story by Kirill Klevanski (ink book reader .txt) 📕
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- Author: Kirill Klevanski
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He was flying away from the where a huge fire was licking the sky, devouring the old monastery — the last refuge of the Girtai people and their God, the sage Liao-Fen.
As Ash flew through the clouds, he realized that he was not floating at all, but rather falling into an abyss.
And then everything went black.
Chapter 47
4th Day of the Month of Krag, 322 A.D., The Plains
“W e’ll spend the night here,” Mary said, jumping off her horse.
The Stumps supported her decision with a murmur. After the morning’s events, everyone was pretty tired and didn’t see the point in another four or so hours of riding just to get the outpost at the border with the marshes. Blackbeard and Tul carefully got Lari off the cart. He had been given a sleeping potion so that Alice’s elixirs would be more efficient healing his injured hands.
Using the Singing Blow had cost Lari a couple of broken and twisted bones in his hands and arms. Thanks to magic and alchemy, he’d live to fight another day, but the sight of him covered with bandages wasn’t a pretty one.
Ash held his staff over a pile of dry leaves and branches and lit a campfire. The clearing, surrounded by trees, began its play of light and shadows, enhanced by the orchestra of the wood’s most talented musicians, in which the trill of the crickets mixed with the crackle of the burning branches and the ragged breathing of the Ternites.
“Don’t bother,” Mary muttered, noticing that Ash was about to draw a Circle.
The mage shrugged. Quietly, he placed a wooden amulet shaped like a fox into the grass. If something big enough to make the animal represented by the totem afraid got too close, he’d know right away.
Alice continued treating Tul, while the others sat around the fire. Tul and Blackbeard exchanged nervous glances and looked at Ash with pity in their tired eyes. They figured that he’d be the victim of Mary’s next lecture.
“Esh,” she said sternly, stirring the coals with a stick.
“Yes?” The mage smiled, lighting a long, old pipe. “Have you finally decided to confess your love for me? Oh, Mary, but I’m afraid that I can’t return your feelings. You see, back in the tent...”
Mary’s right eye twitched and she smacked Ash on the head. The mage, as was his custom, sulked and began to mumble about hags.
“What were you thinking?!”
“What?” he asked, confused. “Oh, about the dancer? Well, you see, the moment she put her hand in my pants, I was already— Ow!”
Rubbing his head, he looked over at Tul and Blackbeard, but the looked away, shaking their heads sadly. The mage sighed, realizing that jokes wouldn’t help him this time.
“You’ve made a big mistake saving that boy,” Mary said calmly, but a little more quietly than she had intended.
“If you’re saying that just because he’s an Ernite—”
“I am!” she shouted, interrupting him for the third time. “That’s exactly what I’m saying! This entire time, you’ve been unreliable, lazy, sloppy, and downright annoying, but the moment we were almost there, you decided to risk your life because of a simple Ernite! Don’t look at me like that! I can spend the entire evening calling a spade a spade.”
Having finished her rant, she lowered her gaze. Perhaps she had said some things in the heat of the moment, but she told them anyway. And there was no turning back now.
“A simple Ernite” was what most people of the world were to the Ternites. Faceless and nameless, walking bag of bones, meat, and blood. Created in the image and likeness of the Gods, but with no destiny or purpose, only a path that led to oblivion.
“Yes, I risked my life, and mine alone,” Ash argued.
“No! No, you idiot! You risked more than that! You risked the future of this entire campaign! You risked our lives, our futures, our reputation, the life of the king’s daughter... On a whim!”
“Esh,” Blackbeard said carefully. “Mary can be a bit... hot-headed sometimes, but she’s got the point. Had you drowned, we would’ve had a really tough time crossing the Rezaliks and Lurka.”
Blackbeard continued talking, but Ash wasn’t listening. He tapped his left shoulder with his staff. The scar still ached.
“You’re too weak, Esh,” Mary said. “You’re not fit for this group. Sorry that it took me this long to realize... Weakness I can tolerate, it can be fixed, but recklessness and stupidity...” She shook her head. “When we return, you’ll hand in your badge.”
Silence fell over the clearing. Banning someone from the squad was the most serious measure a leader could take. A squad was like family, bound by ties stronger by blood. And once you broke those ties, they could never again be mended. Not to mention that it left an awful stain on the reputation of a Ternite. A banished member would probably never again be able to find a new family.
Tul smiled wryly, trying to smooth things over a little.
“I dunno, Mary, that sounds a bit too harsh... Everything worked out in the end.”
“I stand by my decision, Tul.”
Blackbeard muttered something inaudible and turned to the mage.
“I’m sorry, Esh. Tell her you understand and apologize. She’s just a bit jumpy now... Everything will be fine once we’re done with this, you’ll see.”
The mage suddenly hit the ground with his staff and looked at the woman with unexpected malice.
“Mary Birch, as a member of the Wandering Stumps I will listen to you unconditionally for you are my leader and superior, but I, and I alone, am in charge of my own
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