4

At that same moment, I awoke with a start. Breathing raggedly, I stared at the ceiling above my head. My trembling hands clutched the bearskin. "It was a dream... just a dream," I thought. "It was just a dream. Just a dream..." I was still trembling with emotion when something suddenly blocked the light streaming in through the open door. I slowly shifted my gaze. In the light of the setting sun, a tall man dressed in light armor stood before me. He had jet-black hair falling over his forehead and dark eyes that looked strikingly like... like my own eyes! His hands were large and worn, and a powerful sword hung at his side. He held another in his hand, and as soon as I stood, he threw it towards me. At first, I recoiled, but before the weapon could touch the ground, I caught it with an agility that surprised even me. He smiled slightly. This sword was as if made for me. With a very long blade and a leather hilt for two hands. I looked at him uncertainly. Without a doubt, he was the one I'd seen in my visions. I wasn't afraid of him, though his entire form breathed terror, and his armor was soaked in blood. Human blood. Why didn't I run? Why didn't I scream? I just stood there and watched as he lunged at me, swiftly drawing his sword from his belt. What was he doing? I'd never fought! Our swords intertwined in a deadly fight. My body took control of my mind. I was inside him, but I couldn't control my hand, which parried his attack with all its might, then delivered fluid and surprisingly powerful blows. Time and again, our swords crossed, and I saw sparks fly in small cascades to the floor. What did all this mean? How was I still alive? This man was the greatest warrior in his army. He was unrivaled! Meanwhile, a wild fire of hatred burned in his eyes. His blows grew stronger. I don't know how I managed to avoid them, or even deflect them. And the more I thought about it, the more terrified I became. I started to back away, until he finally pinned me against the wall, slamming my sword high into the air. All I heard was the sound of metal clanging against stone. I stared into his eyes, filled with panic. For a moment, we were frozen in place when he suddenly raised his sword above his head and pressed it with all his might into my body. I squeezed my eyes shut, cringing like a child, and a scream I didn't recognize tore from my throat.

"Qajin! Qajin, no..."

I felt no impact, and when I opened my eyes a moment later, seeing him lower his sword, I fell to my knees, sobbing helplessly. He knelt beside me, touching my cheek with his rough hand.

"We will be reunited soon. I have waited so long for our reunion that I wish I could take you to my companions now. I can endure this day. I am glad you haven't forgotten anything I taught you..." He stood up and started toward the exit.

I watched him, shaking and crying desperately. What was he talking about? Who was he really? And how did I know his name... Qajin, which means... which means...!

"Nooooo..." I groaned, clutching my head. "Please, Goddess, this can't be true!"

I jumped to my feet and ran outside. But I couldn't see the tall, portly figure of the mysterious man anywhere. And yet, it was impossible for him to have descended the hill so quickly! My frantic eyes searched for him for a long time among the huts in the settlement. Finally, I returned to my room. Perhaps he was a Spirit, or perhaps an apparition? Or perhaps just another vision?! No, that's impossible... I'd fought him, felt the warmth of his hand on my skin... suddenly I looked at the sword lying on the ground. For a moment, I stared at it, speechless with horror. So it wasn't a dream, or some vision. This man was really here... But how had he gotten here? I knelt beside the sword and touched its blade. It was jagged and incredibly old. I ran my feverish fingers over it. A sudden pain made me jerk my hand away, staring at the blood that began to trickle down my fingers. I stared at the crimson blood for a long time. It was warm and filled my nostrils with a sweet scent. What was I doing? I lifted it in one smooth movement. The blade flashed in the light, then darkened again in the semi-darkness. I watched it. Strange thoughts flashed through my mind. Thoughts I'd never had before! The sudden arrival of the Water Guardian made me drop my sword and jump to my feet. He looked at me in surprise.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, approaching me. "Where did you get this sword?"

I stared at him, speechless, unable to say anything. The Water Guardian knelt beside the sword to pick it up, but I snatched it from his hand with an anger I didn't recognize in myself. A wild fire ignited in my eyes as I started backing toward the wall, sword in both hands, the blade pointed at the man. The Guardian remained kneeling, unsure what to think.

"What's wrong with you, Tallija? You're not yourself... You would never turn against us... we're like siblings..." He stood up, stepping closer.

"Stay away," I hissed through gritted teeth. "Stay away!

" "I still remember helping you gather your first herbs." You seemed so lost in our village, and the others and I tried to help you. You knew you could count on us.

"Shut up. I don't want to hear this!" With each passing moment, I felt my hands tremble more and more.

"We treated you like a sister. We would give our lives for you even now... you know that." He reached for the sword and slowly took it from me.

I helplessly covered my face with my hands and began to sob, falling to my knees. The guard knelt beside me and hugged me tightly to his chest.

"Tallija..." he whispered. "What's wrong with you? Tell me, what's wrong...?"

I couldn't answer him. I didn't even know the answer. Something inside me, something that told me to take the sword, that forced me to insult the High Priest, that made me fight... I raised tearful eyes to him when suddenly we heard angry shouts and calls from down the hill. For a moment, we stood still, listening to the sound of footsteps. I had only time to think they must be the villagers when suddenly enraged men burst into the room. When they saw us, they froze for a moment, falling silent and scowling. This gave us time to get up, and we were about to ask what all this meant when, unexpectedly, one of the old men ran out from among the gathered men and pointed at me with a trembling hand.

"It's her fault," he shouted reproachfully. "She brought the Knights to the village. She abandoned the temple. She betrayed us!"

The rest of the men echoed him, shouting and raising clenched fists to the sky.

"Let's punish her! Let's punish her!" the old man shouted.

Some of the men rushed towards us, first pushing the Guardian away from me, then grabbing me by the hair and dragging me towards the exit. I screamed, trying to break free, but I couldn't do anything. I clumsily submitted to their will. I felt their blows on my back, and their angry shouts rang in my ears, dazing me. They dragged me down the hill, pushing and shoving me.

"Traitor! Traitor!" they shouted. "Shame on you and your family!"

I cried, cowering in fear. Suddenly they released me, forcing me to my knees. The screams stopped. A terrifying silence reigned. Still sobbing, I looked up. The High Priest stood over me, and I saw the deepest contempt in his eyes. He watched my tears and torn hair with satisfaction. Only now did I understand that he had planned all of this. He had made the people of the settlement rise against me.

"This is the one who sold her soul and brought the Black Knights to us.

" "Let us stone her!" Let's stone her! A few voices rose, followed by others.

The High Priest listened to their angry cries for a moment. Suddenly, he raised both hands.

"The Horned God has appeared to me, telling me that the only punishment for this traitor is to sacrifice her to him and the Great Goddess. Let us then bring her to the Stone Temple and offer her body and soul to the Gods, so that they may help us survive the coming war.

" "Let us sacrifice her!" the people shouted. "Let us kill her! Let us kill her!"

Someone jerked me to my feet again, tugging at my arms and hair. I sobbed in terror, trying to free myself. "Spirits..." I thought, "Spirits, help me!" But there was no answer. My invisible guardians abandoned me, leaving me at the mercy of my enemies. I had never known such loneliness. I cried. I knew there was no hope for me, that I could do nothing. No explanation would reach them. They forced me onto a two-wheeled cart and set off towards the Hanging Stones. I begged and pleaded with them to abandon their plans, but no one listened; every word I spoke only fueled their hatred and resentment. Finally, we reached the hill on which the Stone Temple stood. The High Priest led me, and behind us came the people of the settlement, shouting and shaking their fists in anger. As they gathered around the stones and the Priest forcibly placed me on the flat sacrificial stone, a terrible pain shot through my body. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears streaming from beneath them. Meanwhile, the High Priest raised a ritual dagger, reciting prayers of supplication. I opened my eyes. He couldn't tear his gaze away from me. He knew he had violated every law and principle of our Craft, that he had violated the sacred covenant with the Gods, deceived his tribesmen, and betrayed the Priestess. His voice trembled, but he still held the dagger over me, ready to plunge it into my stomach. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Impatient with the prolonged silence, the people began to shout again for him to kill me. But almost at that same moment, the High Priest's body tensed unnaturally, and blood gushed from his mouth. A moment later, dead, he collapsed on top of me, crushing me beneath his weight. As if through a mist, I saw an arrow piercing his back. Panic erupted among the people gathered around the temple. They fled down the hill in panic, seeking shelter among the nearby trees. I was powerless to do anything. Bruised and utterly exhausted, I struggled to throw off the old man's body. All I could hear was the heavy clatter of horses' hooves and the desperate cries of the dying. The sound of my sobs mingled with the shrieks echoing hollowly across the plain. Almost blindly, I slid off the sacrificial stone and sank to my knees, my head hanging low. The sight of severed heads and hands mingled with darkness, only to flash back to me in a flash of consciousness, revealing the full cruelty of the Black Knights. Red blood drenched the green grass of the sacred hill. Suddenly, black-clad knights surrounded me. Their long-maned steeds snorted nervously and scratched the ground with their large hooves. Trembling like a leaf in the wind, I stared at them, sensing imminent death. Yet they did nothing. I couldn't see their faces, or even their eyes, covered by black visors. I don't know how long I listened, stunned, to the cries of the dying.For as long as I could hear the sound of bones breaking and weapons clashing, the settlers had no chance. Suddenly, the Knights parted, creating a narrow passageway in which a tall man emerged. At the sight of me, the horse he was leading neighed, and I could have sworn he was greeting me. The man with black eyes knelt on one knee and smiled softly.

"At the last moment," he whispered, stroking my tousled hair, "You were lucky."

I watched him, not understanding the meaning of his words. I felt as if the ground were slipping away from under my feet, as if everything were collapsing into the omnipresent darkness.

"Everything will be alright," he said, lifting me into his arms. "We're going home."

I couldn't protest. Through half-opened eyes, I stared at the dead people who, moments before, had wanted to sacrifice me to the Horned God. I felt sorry for them. I wept for their fate and couldn't hold back the tears. The man lifted me onto his horse and sat behind me, holding me tight. I don't remember anything more. I only know that we rode through dark forests, where mighty trees leaned over us, and black crows watched our every move...

When I woke up, I was lying naked on the cold stone. My aching body struggled to yield to my will. For a moment, I looked around. I felt that the Spirits who loved me were not with me, and this realization filled me with fear, for I was utterly defenseless. I rose to my knees, resting my hands on the icy ground. A sharp wind whipped my long hair, and a strange world surrounded me, full of multicolored mists. Red intertwined with green, blue with yellow, purple with black. The suffocating scent of incense filled my nostrils. Where else was I? What had happened to me? Suddenly, from the thick mists, the body of the young man who had carried me from the battlefield, whose name was Qajin, slowly emerged. Above him knelt a huge, powerful monster with a shaggy, wolf-like head and the hairy body of a man. His fingers ended in long, hard claws. His feet resembled paws. It had a long, bristly tail, large, red, pupilless eyes that gleamed ominously in the twilight, and its sharp fangs, so long they protruded from its muzzle, still dripped with the remnants of warm blood. My heart stopped beating in my chest for a moment. I stared at it, numb with fear, when suddenly Qajin stirred and opened his swollen eyes. He stared at me, but said nothing. Suddenly, the enormous beast leaned toward it. I wanted to scream at it to back away, to flee, to avoid harm, but it only smiled softly, touching the monster's long snout with its hand. The monster drew a deep breath through its black nostrils, and then a deep, low growl escaped its throat. Qajin smiled wider and said something in a language whose meaning I didn't understand. But suddenly, the fog obscured their silhouettes again, plunging me into complete darkness. For a moment, or perhaps for an eternity, I fell down a dark, endless abyss. I felt my heart freeze in my chest with terror, and a terrifying scream, one I didn't recognize, tore from my throat...

I jerked upright on the soft bed, gasping for air. For a moment, I panted heavily, drenched in a cold sweat. Another vision... only a vision... I rubbed my eyes with a trembling hand. I was sitting in a small tent exposed to a strong wind. Torches stuck in the ground illuminated the interior, filling it with heavy, acrid smoke. Inside, besides my bed, lay a large wooden chest decorated with bas-reliefs depicting strange horses with long horns on their foreheads and enormous wolves with semi-human forms. I walked over to it and lifted the heavy lid. It gave way with a soft creak, revealing a strange tiara, feminine armor, a beautiful bow, and a sword... the same sword I'd used to fight Qajin. I reached for it. When my fingers touched the leather hilt, I felt a strange tingling sensation. As if some long-forgotten feeling were awakening within me and making itself known. I lifted him to eye level. The sight of him filled me with a strange joy...

The sound of footsteps made me turn sharply toward a tall girl with short, shoulder-length hair braided into hundreds of small braids. A thin scar ran along her right cheek. Her eyes were green as blades of grass in spring, her lips thin, red, and her skin tanned by the sun. She wore light leather armor, and two short swords were at her belt. She smiled at me and knelt on one knee. I stared at her in surprise. I turned my head slightly as I approached her, tilting her face toward mine. This girl... though I could have sworn I'd never seen her before, she seemed familiar. Meanwhile, she stood up, walked to a chest, and pulled out armor. Without a word, she began dressing me in it. It consisted of high, knee-high boots laced with leather. A strong belt around the hips, and on the left side, a narrow strip of black material that reminded me a bit of a skirt. I wore small iron protectors on my shoulders, and my chest was protected by a heavy, perfectly fitted corset with an intricately carved symbol. Even though I was wearing it for the first time, it didn't restrict my movement, as if it had been made for me. There was also a diadem. Silver, wide, tapering from the center of my forehead downward. With symbols that reminded me a bit of the script I used in the temple. The thought of the settlement made my heart sob violently.

"Don't worry about the settlement," I heard the girl's gentle voice. "You'll never have to go back there again. Now you're back with us.

" "Again with you...?" I moaned, looking at her. "But why...? Why am I here?"

She looked at me in surprise. She didn't answer. She simply took my hand and led me out of the tent. The cold, fresh night air enveloped my body, making me breathe a sigh of relief. A stunning sight met my eyes. The spot where we stood allowed me to survey a vast valley, full of pitched tents and large blazing fires, around which men sat wrapped in cloaks. I also saw horses grazing nearby and wagons laden with loot—gold, precious clothes, weapons, ornate vessels. I was amazed at what I saw. The girl standing next to me must have seen my mixed delight and surprise, for she only smiled mysteriously to herself.

"We'll spend the night on the plain today; we'll set off for home at dawn, as the loot we've captured is slowly becoming a burden," she said, leading me down the hill. "Our lord also wanted you to rest a bit." You slept for a long time...

Soon we found ourselves among the black tents. The men sitting by the fires seemed oblivious to us. They ate meat, drank red wine from clay cups, chatted, or cleaned their swords for another fight. We passed them silently. Their masculine faces, stubbled with stubble, were tired, but in their eyes I saw neither the hatred of murderers nor the desperation of assassins. They reminded me of people fighting to survive, to provide for themselves and their families. In my visions, however, they were bloodthirsty beasts who found joy only in killing and destruction... Before I could even ask my companion about it, we stopped by a fire, around which sat men with hoods pulled low over their faces. Seeing us, they smiled, and suddenly I felt a strong, rough hand on mine. I looked at Qajin, who gently pulled me toward him, so that I sank into his lap with a soft squeal. Cheerful laughter echoed through the crowd. I wanted to pull away, to protest, but when I felt him trembling against me, I couldn't push him away anymore, and I simply wrapped my arms around his neck. Before he even buried his face in my wrist, he wrapped us in his black woolen cloak. It was all so familiar. His warmth. His scent. The roughness of his skin. The mixture of pleasure I felt as he pressed me against him, and fear and humiliation. I closed my eyes, resting my forehead on his shoulder. His heart fluttered in his chest like a wounded bird trying its last ounce of strength to take flight. But was my heart beating slower? No. It struck with the force of a horse galloping across the plain, its mane caught in the wind, and the scent of true freedom in its nostrils.

I dreamed of two birds flying in a clear, bright sky. One small and brown, the other large, black with a long beak. For a moment, it seemed they were flying in a direction known only to them, but I quickly realized the black bird was trying to catch its flight partner. It circled him from all sides, trying to catch him with its claws, slamming its entire body against him, only to let him escape again. It toyed with him, letting him fly away, descending, only to be right by his side again. I watched this desperate struggle of the little bird, praying to the Spirits of Nature to help it, to not let it perish, but suddenly, unexpectedly, the black bird grew tired of this game. It beat the air harder with its large wings and dug its claws into the bird's flesh. His brown feathers scattered in the wind, which carried his soft squeal...

I woke up numb and frozen with cold. Still half asleep, I felt his strong hand stroking my white hair. I lifted my head slightly. There was no one else by the fire. Everyone had gone to sleep. The grass gleamed in the flames with the morning dew.

"Finally," he smiled sleepily, gripping my shoulders with his large hands. His bloodshot eyes bored into me, piercing me.