My Unfinished Stories" Part 3 :-))) Chronicles of the Lands of Lhydia, Book II , Book Two: "The Gates of Hell" "

 

Times have fallen. Signs in the sky and in the Lands testify to this," began Sorren Nidenhill, Grand Master of the Order of the White Lily in Sunhorn. He was also the head of the Grand Chapter, which had gathered in Sunhorn, the mighty Templar stronghold on the central island of Western Sunnor.

"This is also evidenced by the convocation of our Chapter. This is the second this year. It is known to all gathered here that the reason we are here is the increasingly disturbing news coming from the mainland. The Necromancer known to us, Xenor of Ashyria, has revealed himself in Earthland's capital, Charlsburg, where he first abducted the daughter of our ally, the Prince of Dagleswierd, and then, by brutally murdering both of them, came into possession of the last secret of our Order, the cursed resting place of Asthar."

Grand Master Sunhorn paused, consulting his notes. After a moment, he continued: "Before we turn to that matter, however, we must first address another equally important matter. A week ago, thanks to Kharonaey's will, the knight Nenad Kossaris returned. He had been sent by us to search for Paladin Khail Walverde, who had disappeared in the Alden Mountains. The time had come to hear his account and consider the Chapter's next steps."

A herald, dressed in a white tunic, announced Kossaris's name in a loud voice. Adorned with a coat of arms depicting a unicorn ridden by a woman of extraordinary beauty, the heavy gates opened with a groan. A portly man with broad shoulders strode confidently into the room and stood in the center of the circular hall, whose tall windows, decorated with crystal stained glass, were covered with floor-length cherry curtains with a silver lily emblem in the center. He bowed before the Grand Chapter, seated on a dais behind a massive table laden with food, though no one had yet even touched it. "

Welcome, Paladin," Sorren Nidenhill greeted him, "take a seat with us and tell us what happened to Khail Walverde."

The Paladin approached the long table and took the only empty seat, directly opposite the Grand Master. He cleared his throat and began his tale:

"Called by Lady Kharonaey, I saw in the Zavidalla Spring an image of Khail Walverde, who, together with a certain Baron Ravenford, was traversing a strange desert covered with dunes and craters, where winds and sandstorms of unknown origin raged. The vision faded after a few moments, and I stood frozen before the mirror of water. I was torn by conflicting emotions, which the goddess herself dispelled when she appeared to me that same night in my chamber."

A murmur of disbelief spread through the hall, and the entire Chapter, except for the Grand Master, began to regard Kossaris with a certain suspicion. Undaunted, Kossaris glared at the dignitaries defiantly, as if he had learned things few of them could even remotely grasp. He leaned back in his chair and told his story. He knew that many of those gathered, after this story concluded, would be forced to reassess their beliefs about the goddess Kharonaey and their vision of the universe.

*** "

I

- You will discover possibilities within yourself that you will never fully grasp, for your lifetime would not be sufficient," she said, floating just above the floor, emanating an unreal glow. Her long golden hair flowed steadily, falling from her slender shoulders, covering her full breasts. The flowing turquoise dress, moving in an imperceptible breeze, further captured the imagination of the young and reserved Paladin, who lowered his head, confused by his own feelings for the goddess Kharonaey.

Conscious of her beauty, the woman with elven features and shimmering violet eyes continued, whispering seductively:

"I have chosen you to fulfill a task that only you, thanks to your talent, can accomplish.

Talent." The Paladin echoed Kharonaey's words in his mind. Since childhood, he had possessed the gift of a vivid imagination. Simply picturing a familiar person would automatically bring to mind their image and what they were doing, no matter how far away they were.

"Only in conjunction with your gift could Zavidall's mirror be used at such a great distance. What you saw was a parallel world; there are many more of them. They are ruled by guardians called Hollings; you will surely encounter them."

Kharonaey fell silent. She gazed with gleaming eyes at the Paladin kneeling before her. Her aura glowed even brighter, reaching out to the knight.

"Rise," she said, "and you will receive my blessing and this ring."

With a metallic clang, a gold ring engraved with a magical symbol, a sun and moon divided by a pendulum, inscribed in a magical triangle, materialized next to the Paladin and fell to the floor.

"You will show it to the Hollings. With it, you will be able to travel between worlds. Now go. In the library above the fireplace, you will find a box. Take a handful of powder from it and scatter it near my statue. A secret door will open. Behind it, you will find the old dwarf, Alistaer Zart. He will prepare you for your journey. "

The goddess moved away from the Paladin. Her glow flickered slightly, and her figure vanished like smoke.

"I will support you, so fear no evil," he heard from afar.

The chamber fell silent, the only sound audible was the faint whine of the wind behind the closed shutters. The light from the small lamp beside the bed flickered unevenly, creating a mosaic of shadows on the walls.

Kossaris rose and looked longingly at the bed, which tempted him to lie down and fall asleep.

"Damn!" he cursed. "I overslept, no need!"

He hadn't slept the previous night, when he received orders to return from the guardhouse on the coast to Sunhorn. The Grand Master, Sorren Nidenhill, had summoned him. In the Grand Master's private chambers, he had received a series of instructions from the mages and Nidenhill himself on how to use Zavidall's Spring. Toward dawn, he finally looked into the mirror. The vision seemed to last only a moment, but when it ended, he was surprised to find that dusk had fallen. Now that he had finally eaten his meal, which consisted of a triple portion of roast meat and bread, he intended to lie down and rest before his journey.

"But no," he said to himself, putting on his chainmail and stepping out into the silent corridor, "the most beautiful girl in the world appears and says I've been chosen. When I return, my love, whether you're a goddess or not, you have to go out with me. You owe me one," he smiled inwardly.

***

He placed the lamp on the mantelpiece. Carefully, he removed the box, which shimmered with a rainbow of colors, and opened it. Inside was a glowing pink powder. As Kharonaey had instructed, he filled a handful. Setting the box back in its place, his gaze found the statue of the goddess, depicting a woman gazing thoughtfully in an unknown direction.

He scattered the powder at the foot of the statue; after a moment, it gleamed, and a small wooden door shimmering on the wall beside it appeared. He opened it. A gentle breeze blew from inside, carrying the scent of the sea. He reached for the lamp and walked into the darkening opening. He had to bend down to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. The corridor wasn't long. Just around the first bend, he saw light coming from the end of the corridor. Inside was a strange chamber, where various magical implements were arrayed on tables and shelves. Closer to him, on a long bench, a greenish liquid bubbled in glass vessels, emitting a soft buzz.

Kossaris examined the labyrinth of tubes that connected the vessels. Out of curiosity, he reached for a vial standing next to the machinery.

"Don't touch it!"

The paladin jumped in surprise. By the shelves on the wall, where no one had been a moment ago, stood a fat dwarf dressed in a purple nightgown. He wore a nightcap of the same color over his head.

"Alchemy, my dear, isn't a field you can make a career in," he said, stepping closer and checking the tubes for leaks.

- You were created for swinging a sword, not for something where you have to use your brain.

"I can use my brain..." the Paladin began, indignant.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," the dwarf interrupted. "I just don't like

being woken in the middle of the night. Let's get this over with as quickly as possible.

" "Lady Kharonaey sent me...

" "I know who sent you. She always sends people like you to me. You always need to be prepared and equipped for the journey. But why at night?"—a grimace of pain and resignation spread across the dwarf's ruddy face. "Tell me, can't such matters be handled like humans, at normal hours?"

Without waiting for an answer, the dwarf tugged Kossaaris by the sleeve towards the wall, which creaked open inward. They found themselves in a pleasantly furnished living room, where a small flame crackled in a small fireplace. The dwarf walked over to the fireplace. He added some wood to the fire and looked at the Paladin in surprise.

"Why aren't you sitting down?" "—he asked, then took a seat in one of the two leather armchairs.

Kossaris sat down in the soft armchair, looking around the room curiously.

"Not a bad spot, huh?

" "A bit cramped.

" "It'll do for me. "

The dwarf reached for a shelf lined with

old leather-bound books. He pulled out one, bound with a hard, red cover, and placed it in front of him on the table that, to Kossaris's great surprise, had just appeared.

"Don't go staring, boy! I'm a mage, if you haven't noticed."

The paladin nodded, amused by the dwarf's humor. He was pleased that someone else wouldn't get any sleep that night. He promised himself he wouldn't be surprised anymore.

"Pour the tea," ordered Alistaer Zart, the secret mage of Sunhorn Keep. Seeing the Paladin's indecision, he muttered a spell, and a steaming jug and two clay mugs appeared on the table.

The dwarf opened the book. He read aloud:

"May those who are granted the right to travel through dimensions remember the guardians of time and do not attempt to arbitrarily alter their decrees."

***

"...And time is a barrier that was used centuries ago to separate organic worlds, so that each being could develop at its own pace and in its own environment."

The dwarf finished his tea and said wearily:

"It's clear to me that you haven't remembered much of what I've read to you. That's fine. It's also clear that you'll get into trouble the moment you step through the dimension gate. The most important thing is to remember never to question the will of the Hollings, who are the true and only masters of the dimensions. On your journey, you may encounter all sorts of creatures. Some similar to those you know, some completely different, and some that may evoke different feelings. Remember, too, to concentrate solely on your task. You will find Khail Walverde and bring him back. Aha! Here's a scroll that will open the gate to our world. Don't lose it, or you'll never return."

The paladin took the scroll from the dwarf and asked,

"Where can I find the weapon I'm supposed to use there?"

"Ha! Where? At my place!" The dwarf beamed. "Only at my place."

He stood and gestured for Kossaris to follow him. Another door in the wall opened. They entered an armory the likes of which the Paladin had never seen. Weapons of strange construction and unknown origin hung on the walls. The Paladin whistled in admiration. The dwarf reached for a large, one-and-a-half-handed sword made of gleaming material and handed it to Kossaris with effort. The Paladin took the sword in one hand and waved it, testing its weight.

"Yes, now we have to find you another shield," he muttered under his breath.

"No shield!" the Paladin protested. Seeing the mage's surprised look,

he added,

"I don't use a shield. Just give me another sword like that.

" "As you wish," the dwarf agreed, handing over a second identical sword. He rummaged through the chests and pulled out a silver-blue suit of armor from one of them, which

he tucked under his arm and led the reluctant Kossaris back to the parlor.

"I could help you that much. The rest is up to you," he waved at

the Paladin.

"Although I'll give you a few more supplies for the journey." Then you will pass through the gate.

They returned to the first chamber, and Kossaris received a bag filled

with food, scrolls, and various potions, appropriately described by the mage. From the pocket of his robe, he pulled a scroll similar to the one he had given Kossaris. He whispered a spell, and a glowing red gate opened.

"This is where we part ways," he shouted over the roar the gate was making. "Time

presses on, so go. May the grace of Kharonaey protect you!

" "Should I go right away?" the Paladin asked, surprised. "I thought I'd at least

get some sleep before the journey!

" "In your bag, you have a potion that will give you strength and drive away sleep. Farewell!"

The dwarf made a gesture with his hand, and with a cry, Kossaris flew into the red

abyss of the gate. Swords and armor flew with him.

"Oh, damn it! Sclerosis!" the dwarf ran quickly to the armory. A moment later, he returned and tossed a silver-blue helmet after the Paladin. The gate closed.

***

II

The gigantic crater whose slope they had climbed housed a settlement glowing with a strange glow. Lanterns placed at almost every step trapped within them, capable of illuminating the darkness. The wound on the Paladin's chest itched painfully, assuring him that his body was coping with the Lich's venom more quickly than usual. He couldn't say the same for his unconscious companion, who, delirious with fever, looked increasingly worse.

He bandaged him up the same way he had treated himself, but unlike the Templars of the White Lily, his companion's body was not immune to the Lich's venom they had fought a few days ago. He lifted the Baron from the ground, groaning and wincing in pain, as the wound, though healing, still protested painfully at his more vigorous movements. He set off along a streambed that had likely dried up many years ago, treading carefully between the stones. He deeply hoped that in the settlement he would find a medic who could deal with his friend's illness.

***

After passing through the gate, Kossaris entered a tunnel filled with electrical discharges, through which, descending and ascending, he slid at dizzying speed. His stomach lurched. If only a hazy memory of his last meal hadn't remained, he would surely have messed up the tunnel and himself. The slithering itself lasted a brief moment, during which the Paladin, with his entire mind, sensed millions of beings, fragments of their thoughts, fragments of their lives. Images he could not quite understand formed before his eyes. Deformed bodies, places he'd never been, and buildings, castles, entire cities, and gigantic cloud-suspended fortresses.

He screamed in terror long after being thrown with great force onto the sand dunes. His swords and armor landed right behind him, followed a moment later by his helmet, which struck him painfully on the head and clattered across the sand.

He shook off the shock and was surprised to find himself standing where he'd seen Khail Walverde in Zavidall's mirror the previous night.

He looked around. As far as the eye could see, the crater-strewn desert stretched. He gathered his belongings. He put on his helmet and armor, which proved remarkably light. He tied a leather strap around his swords and slung them over his shoulder. He decided to walk west, toward the large crater looming in the distance.

He stopped dead in his tracks, realizing what he was looking at. Behind the crater looming on the horizon were two sun disks! He was amazed at this unusual sight.

He pictured the Templar he'd been sent to retrieve. For a moment, nothing happened, then he saw Khail hanging on a metal cross. Large, serpentine tentacles crawled across his body, burrowing into the Paladin's hands.

The vision vanished. Dazed, Kossaris moved timidly. He surveyed the area and reached into the bag the dwarven mage had provided him with. From it, he pulled out a crystal vial. It read: "The sour taste of water will give you stamina."

"Joker. Holy shit!"

He pulled the cork and drank the contents of the vial. The taste was indeed quite tart and bitter. The Paladin barely refrained from spitting out the potion. Without further delay, he set off west, in the direction where he believed he would find Khail Walverde still alive.

***

Walverde cursed Xenor's name silently. He cursed his own name. He was furious with himself for being so easily fooled by the offer of help from the mysterious traveler he'd met in the settlement. He accepted the offer, naively trusting the stranger. His face twisted in unspeakable agony. Three serpentine creatures gnawed at his wrists, greedily sucking away his energy. He felt weak, increasingly drowsy, but the pain wouldn't let him escape into the healing depths of sleep.

"You suffer," he heard a voice say.

With an effort, he opened his eyes. The traveler who had offered him help stood before him. Dressed in a black cassock covering his feet, his hands folded as if in prayer, and that cold gaze from his dark, watery eyes. His face, covered with a series of scars, smiled at the Paladin.

"You'll get used to it, stranger. You'll discover the infinite beauty and pleasure of pain. We have all of eternity before us."

The torturer's smile widened even further, revealing a row of sharp fangs.

"Allow me to introduce myself." My name is Thraglanith. In different worlds, I am called differently. Sherwa, Rothos, Khalin, Ethaniel. This is my kingdom, and I am its lord. The lord of pain and suffering.

The traveler bowed exaggeratedly and laughed loudly.

"Where is Ravenford?" the Paladin asked through a tight throat.

"Not far, my love. Not far. He's in slightly worse shape

than you, but that doesn't matter. That doesn't matter."

Walverde jerked, which caused even more pain. He groaned, much to Thraglanith's delight.

"Bravo! Fight, that excites me even more." The traveler's image clouded over. The Paladin fainted.

***

The sandstorm came suddenly. Suddenly. Kossaris barely managed to hide behind a small hill that offered some cover on at least one side. Grains of sand bit painfully at his face, entering his eyes, ears, and mouth. The Templar covered himself with his cloak, which, tossed by the wind like a furled sail, fluttered steadily.

He didn't know how long the storm had lasted. He awoke. He struggled to get out from under the mounds of sand that covered his makeshift tent. He stood and looked around. It was a clear night. Unfamiliar constellations of stars were clearly visible in the sky, accompanied by three, not four, moons. He found the crater he was heading towards. He set off at a brisk pace.

He sank knee-deep in sand, which caved in with every step, making progress difficult. He stopped. He dug into his water bag and took a few sips. He hoped he would find drinkable water in this strange land.

High in the south, a fiery ribbon lit the sky, approaching him at great speed. He cursed and began to run. Plodding through the sand, slowly, as if in a dream, he tried to reach a dune and seek shelter behind it. He was halfway up the hill when a fiery ribbon slammed him facedown with tremendous force. He felt a searing pain in his skull, but it subsided after a moment. He looked up and was speechless.

Before him, just above the crest of the hill, two formidable, at least, humanoid figures hovered. They were much larger than he was. Although he himself stood out in his own world for his height and stature, compared to them, he looked like a child. Clad in silver armor, the faceless figures wielded luminous swords. But what captivated him most was their enormous, glowing blue wings, spread and rippling against the night sky.

"You have one chance to justify your intrusion into this world," he heard words spoken in a resonant, unusually harmonious voice, the tone of which he couldn't distinguish, male or female.

"I come at the behest of Lady Kharonaey, to rescue friends trapped in this world.

" "Kharonaey! That whore!" – he heard, and his heart boiled. He drew his sword, ready to defend the honor of his goddess.

"Her audacity is starting to irritate me!"

"Quiet, not in front of a mortal. And as for you... Little one. Tell your mistress that

she has no right to send anyone from her world here anymore. It's an order.

" "Her trips always end in trouble! The same goes for her emissaries!

" "Enough, Zakhaiel!"

Neldar now turned to Kossaris in a calm voice:

"Sheathe your weapon, mortal. Do you have anything belonging to your mistress that proves your truthfulness?"

The paladin pulled out the ring given to him by Kharonaey and held it out in front of him on his open palm.

"Enough. You may keep it. How is it that your friends crossed dimensions?

" "They were treacherously sent by a Warlock named Xenor, a Necromancer from Ashyria. I am to bring them back to our world.

" Neldar turned to his companion:

"Great. It's probably those two who arrived recently. We'll have no trouble. And you, Little..." Kossaris was starting to get seriously nervous. He wasn't used to letting such mockery slip. However, he remembered what the dwarf had said and simply gritted his teeth.

"...you have until dawn to complete your task. We'll be watching you. Goodbye!"

As quickly as they had appeared, the Neldar transformed into a streak of light that shot skyward in the blink of an eye, only to disappear a moment later.

The paladin screamed after them and slammed his swords into the sand in fury. The feeling of anger drained from him like poisoned blood from a wound. He climbed to the top of the dune. He steeled himself and leaped forward. To his great surprise, he discovered that instead of crashing down, he soared upward.

"I... I'm flying!" – he exclaimed with joy, only to fall in a gentle arc a moment later to the top of the next dune. Apparently, different laws governed this world than the one he came from. Pleased with his discovery, he could cover the distance to the crater much faster by jumping.

***

Walverde dreamed. He dreamed of strange things. Silent images flashed through his subconscious. Among the many unknowns, he recognized glimpses of Kharonaey and his own world, which he had lost. He saw friends. Both those living and those long gone. Lenthian Cavalieur, Grand Master Rosh Madulain, the beautiful Lady Loxley, the merchant Nasir and his brother...

He woke suddenly. He looked around fearfully. He was still attached to the cross by some unknown force. He was relieved to see the absence of the serpentine creatures, whose livid marks had left on his arms and legs.

He found himself in a windowless room, the walls covered with

greenish slime. He smelled the stench of burning flesh. He looked down at his feet, which were consumed by the flames. He cried out in terror and... He woke up.

"Oh! Hello, sleeping beauty," he heard a familiar voice coming from behind the counter, which was flickering with red lights. Their glow turned Thraglanith's already hideous face a demonic hue.

"How did you sleep, darling?

" "You'll pay for this, changeling!" Walverde hissed through his teeth.

"Oh no, sweetie. No. I have many plans for you. You'll like it,

you'll see.

" The torturer smiled ominously from behind the counter. He walked around the piece of furniture, and only now did the Paladin understand his intentions. At hip level, Thraglanith's cassock bulged significantly, covering the black fabric with a wet stain.

Walverde spat in front of himself in disgust,

"Don't come near me, pervert!"

"Oh, I'll have to change again."

"You'll die, you creature!

" "Easy, sweetie. The time will come when you'll want it yourself. You'll be begging me again. All in good time."

The paladin felt a searing pain in his arms. Then the serpentine tentacles dug in hungrily. He contorted in another wave of pain.

"Lady, save your servant," he whispered, and sank into the depths of suffering.

***

Kossaris took a last sip from his waterskin and looked around the strange settlement, whose houses, built of an unknown material, stood in neat rows on both sides of the sandy road. Windowless, single-story cottages with small entrances beckoned with light from within. Strange lanterns illuminated the street, where ghostly, distorted, and naked apparitions strolled in pairs.

The paladin, wrapped in his cloak, moved stealthily between the houses. He peered into each doorway, but apart from the household appliances arrayed in each house, he found nothing of interest. Worse still, he found no trace of Walverde or his companion. Crouching around the corner of one of the huts, he decided to conjure up an image of the men he was looking for.

He saw only Walverde. He was still hanging on the same cross, the merciless snakes still gnawing at him. He was terrified by the expression on the Paladin's face, which was transfixed by a look of bliss.

His vision blurred. He had to hurry. He decided to stop hiding. His new vision seemed to be pointing him in the right direction. He dashed through the streets, ignoring the figures blocking his path. He could run directly through them, as he discovered when he failed to avoid one. Instead of running into the apparition, he ran through it and, somewhat surprised, dashed forward. In the center of the settlement stood a building that stood out from the rest. It was larger, also oval like the others, but taller and brownish-brown. As he approached, he saw two wolf-like beasts that howled ominously at the sight of him and lunged at him. Kossaris leaped into the air just in front of them, avoiding their claws and sharp-toothed jaws. He rose in the air, drew his swords, and fell, striking the first one. Steel whistled. A howl of resentment rang out, and the first beast fell, drenching the ground with gore. Prepared to repel the attack, he turned in a pirouette toward the second. However, he underestimated his opponent. The wolf, though much larger than any Templar had known from his own world, reared up on its hind legs and bared its fangs. A deafening screech erupted from its throat, causing the Paladin to cover his ears in pain. Only now did the beast charge forward. In two long strides, it reached him. Only thanks to the reflexes honed over years of training did Kossaris owe his life. The jaws snapped behind the warrior for a split second. However, the claws severely scratched his thigh. The Paladin rolled to the side and raised his swords just in time, as the beast attacked again. Retreating, he parried the lightning-fast blows of its huge paws and avoided its deadly teeth. The speed with which the wolf delivered its blows, constantly pushing forward, terrified him. One of the beast's blows knocked Kossaris's sword from his hand, sending it clattering a dozen or so paces away. The beast stopped, savoring the moment of triumph. The paladin glanced around. First to the side, then quickly behind him. There was no room to escape. To his left and behind him was a wall. The wolf blocked his only escape route.

"Okay, dog. Come in."

The paladin knelt on his good knee and bowed his head, expecting a fatal blow. The beast straightened and leaped forward. At that moment, Kossaris dove between the predator's paws, somersaulted, and in the instant of a spin, flung his sword at the beast, which attacked him again, crashing down on him with tremendous force, crushing him beneath its weight. He closed his eyes, expecting the blow. But it didn't come. Instead, he felt a warm liquid on his face. He opened first one eye, then the other, and saw a huge wolf's head looming above him, the pommel of his sword protruding from his throat. He struggled to crawl out from under the rapidly numbing body. He drew his sword and wiped it on the lapel of his cloak. He went to fetch the

second one, picked it up from the ground, and headed toward the building's entrance.

Walverde looked up, his eyes clearly playing tricks on him, as he saw cute, cuddly puppies nestling in his arms, tickling him. From afar, he heard a resonant voice:

"And how are you feeling, my beautiful princess?"

He thought he was a man, but if that beautiful voice told him she was a princess, then she probably was. He felt pain in its purest form, paralyzing and yet leaving him in a wonderful swoon. He felt pleasure, yet different, unknown. But was it truly pleasure? He couldn't say. He began to fall back into darkness. Even before he lost himself, he heard, somewhere on the edge of his consciousness:

"My princess. The wedding ceremony is over. It's time for our wedding night."

And another harsh voice said:

"There will be no night, you bald man!

" "Oh, oh, another lover!"

***

"I was wandering the corridors of this strange building when I finally saw brass doors, from behind which muffled voices came. I went inside and saw Khail Walverde hanging on a cross. Some old man dressed in black with a bared... well... that... you know... Sword!" Kossaris blushed slightly. However, he continued, following the story he had agreed upon with Walverde and Ravenford. "...And he was approaching Khail. He was raving about the night. I interrupted him just in time. He was overjoyed to see me and began to cast a spell. I felt cold and weak, sleepy. I wanted to stop him, but his willpower wouldn't let me. Before I fell, I managed to throw my sword at him; I was sure I hit him. I woke up, I don't know how long later. The two Neldar I'd met in the desert were standing beside me. They were angry and unusually disturbed. They didn't let me speak. They just said:

"You have traveled through time and space to find your friends. You have discovered dimensions you mortals are forbidden to enter. However, we will spare your life, for you did not know how to proceed. You have fulfilled your mission. Use the scroll you were given, take your friends, and return to your world."

I found the unconscious Baron Ravenford in the next chamber. He, too, was lying on the cross. With the help of the Neldars, I moved him to the chamber where I found Walverde. I used the scroll. Before I passed through the gate, however, one of the Neldars said:

"Remember what you heard from us. Don't forget to convey this order to your lady Kharonaey. Farewell. And it will be better for you that we never meet again." As I was passing through the gate, I heard, or thought I heard them saying to each other, "I'm tired of keeping an eye on this lunatic. That weirdo from Kharonaey almost killed him." To which the other one replied, "And to think he was once one of the greatest minds in the universe..."

"The Council already knows the rest of my story. We were dumped on the Sunneress Highlands, where Prince Wigh's patrol found us."

Kossaris, with the Grand Master's permission, reached for a goblet of wine and rinsed his parched throat.

"We thank you, brother, for this exhausting account. You are free. You may return to your duties."

The Templar stood, bowed, and walked briskly toward the exit, happy that he could finally go to what he called meditation, during which he fell into a kind of sleep. There, he met his mistress and reveled in the hours of pleasure she provided him.

"For my part, I will add," the Grand Master of Sunhorn Keep turned to the assembled crowd, "that Khail Walverde is recovering quickly thanks to the efforts of our mages. We will interview him and Baron Ravenford in a few days, when they feel able to tell us their side of the story."

The Grand Master looked condescendingly at the assembled group and reminded them,

"Gentlemen, I need hardly remind you that what we have heard here cannot leave the walls of Sunhorn."

Everyone nodded, which amused the Grand Master, for it reminded him of a toy he had once played with as a child. It depicted sitting animals that, once moved, bobbed their heads obediently endlessly.

***

A Templar of the Order of the White Lily, Nenad Kossaris, entered the garden where he expected to find the convalescents he had managed to locate with the help of the Neldars. He was right. He found them sitting by a fountain depicting the goddess Kharonaey, holding a bucket from which water splashed, disappearing into a small pool covered in a colorful mosaic of various hues.

"Greetings, gentlemen!" he greeted them.

"Welcome, guardian of our virtues," Walverde replied, and all three burst into pure, unfeigned laughter.

"How was the hearing?" Ravenford croaked after a moment, his condition improving, though much slower than Walverde's.

"No problem. I told them exactly what we agreed on.

" "And you told them about the sword too," Walverde wanted to make sure.

"Oh, damn, I forgot!"

Walverde paled, but after a moment he understood his friend's joke and splashed him with water in return.

"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't gotten there in time," Walverde added.

"Well, you certainly would have had trouble passing gas for a while."

The three of them burst into laughter again, which was further intensified by the fact that Ravenford, laughing, had fallen into the fountain.

***

A muted silence reigned in the cosmic void. But someone who paid close attention might have heard the mysterious dialogue being conducted by two luminous ribbons traversing the ocean of the universe.

- We'll have to hush this up somehow, Zakhaiel.

- I'm fed up with this job!

- Cool, remember when the Earthlings stole our time machine?

- What a scandal!

- These people are an annoying race.

- Yeah. But they smoke.

- So what? That doesn't mean they're mature enough for such knowledge. Besides... Wait, I'll take a mach... Damn it, comet!