Ghost State

Prelude:

Squeezing his fetus, crushing the sweetness of his bounty, he yearned for eternal happiness in the realm of worthless leaders, just like himself. Perishing in the oblivion of unthinking beings, he inhaled the marzipan scent of her skin. And then the uncontrollable desires of his indigestible mind rushed toward his own destruction and that of his other dead companions. He destroyed because in it he found solace; injustice and suffering were a bitter yet seasoned wine. Drinking the blood of virgins, he reveled in every agony of the insignificant human. Such was our king, ruler of the lands called the Land of Grim Happiness.

The necromancer killed his predecessor, the late Meldak III the Wise, whose dynasty had reigned for a thousand years and ensured prosperity in our land, but all things pass. Good kings have passed, and so has our vampire ruler. We are constantly searching for a hero who will deliver us from oppression. The throne stands empty, there are too many greedy simpletons and various cunning foxes. We can't be sure of anything. The provisional government can't satisfy the people, there are countless unfinished business. Those who can't cope with everything either fall into the abyss of madness or commit suicide. I await the day when I, the Administrator of Magic and Magical Affairs, will be able to overcome the pain of death or plunge into the darkness of my own madness. The uncertainty, the constant arguments, threats, shouts, and pleas for greater control over magic, the release of ancient books where the Old Ones have hidden their immense and limitless power, have driven me into paranoia. But with the last of my strength, I keep everything in order. With the last of my consciousness, I try not to make mistakes.

Today, there will probably be another battle, or just a protest. I have hidden the power of the Old Ones deep within; I hope no unauthorized person will find it. If the prophets are correct, in a few hundred years of misery, a true hero and ruler will emerge who will free the Land of Grim Fortune from its deadly fate.

The Neoloids were the most interesting race among the neo-Gothic human augmentations. Besides sticking their snoopy noses everywhere, they possessed the strength of five humans. And for some time, they had demonstrated rather poor magical abilities. The most powerful magician among the blue humanoids was Mikraztru Jettil. Like others of his race, he was tall, slender, had an elongated face, and lacked hair on his blue skull. The only thing that distinguished him was the color of his eyes. These creatures had emerald or azure gazes, and when you looked at Jettil, two golden fires glinted in his eye sockets.

In the Land of Grim Fortune, the throne still stood empty, and the state was ruled by officials. Sometimes skillfully, but never successfully, they succeeded in bringing benefits to the people, or even contentment or a sense of security. Few believed that one day the prophecy would come true and the crown would fall into the right hands. Everyone tried to live as best they could, forgetting about hope, about old stories stored on archaic diskettes. But there was always someone who infected others with their faith, often performing miracles in the process, and thus a long-forgotten legend came to life, and the world welcomed a new beginning.

Chapter 1

"Eled'aku!" A black-haired humanoid, a hairlike creature, shouted at the man walking. He was dressed in a green cloak with a hood pulled over his forehead.

She ran up, pushing through the crowd in the Northern Market, just as the mysterious figure began to accelerate. Suddenly, he turned into a dark alley. She entered the alley, thinking she'd surely catch up with the fair-skinned man there. Her violet eyes began to turn red to help her see better in the dim light. Something rustled to her left. The girl strained her eyes and spotted a skinny rat. She looked around carefully, but couldn't find it. Nevertheless, she decided to wait a moment. The alley contained all the filth of the city. The young woman sniffed the unpleasant odor and shuddered. Resigned, she surveyed the filthy alley again.

"Eled'ak, why did you run away again?" she said quietly, to herself.

She walked away, hanging her head and taking a moody step. She emerged into the bustling market, lonely as a broken flower. She looked up, where a red star towered, chasing a steel one. Thanks to these two little ones, the world became more stable and brighter. For Blue Lidia, it held little significance. Once again, she was forced to plunge into the alienated hordes of humanoids, each occupied with a single thought. No kindness beat from their black hearts; greed beat a rhythm in the center of the interior.

The green cloak swayed gently in the breeze. A single figure on a high roof watched the girl sadly step into the crowd. He, too, seemed despondent. He turned and jumped, aiming for the roof of the next house. Suddenly, the air around Eled'ak began to shimmer. The boy heard a strange laugh and disappeared.

The people in the market, unaware of these events, were minding their own business. The northern part of the city was a sector where people with average incomes lived. Neat and modest houses mingled with various inns. If a bird's-eye view were possible, one would see the buildings rising. Legend spoke of a great dragon buried beneath the city of X'ztr'as, or of a band of troglodytes that attacked the settlement long ago. Later, as in all sorts of tales, a brave knight appeared to aid the helpless inhabitants.

The mage cursed quietly under his breath. Suddenly, his pupils dilated to their limits.

"How dare he?!" Mikraztru's powerful voice echoed off the bare walls of the chamber.

The large stone room was dimly lit by a strange cauldron. Or rather, by whatever was inside it. Light blue smoke and azure light billowed from within. The image of his apprentice still flickered on the surface. Though Jettil himself preferred to call him his assistant. He met Eled'ak by accident, during one of his many nocturnal wanderings. The barefoot was about to rob the first passerby on Niat'uki Street. The mage wasn't in the best of moods at the time and was ready to kill the thief in the most gruesome way possible, but it's common knowledge that those unaware of their actions are forgiven. The young pickpocket had gained the sympathy of the unpredictable Neolid. Not only with his magical talent, though deeply hidden, but also with his unusual approach to life.

"Damn Dwar't!" he shouted and began to pace nervously.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, plastic device. It was rectangular, with a few yellow buttons. Most of it was taken up by a small screen with a map of the city.

"No, that's not it." The magician frowned, still staring at the map of X'ztr'as.

Lidia's cherry-red curls shimmered in the red light of Patr's—the raspberry sun. The day was drawing to a close, the gray star absent from the evening sky. Turning into the residential district, she scanned the elegant houses with boredom. She had lived here since early childhood, and these views had remained unchanged for a thousand years. The older, the more precious. This was the method employed by the wealthiest. She didn't remember her parents abandoning her outside the house of a wealthy merchant. The humanoid of the M'ustr race intended to entrust the infant to a maid, a modest married woman who, due to a certain illness that had plagued her in her youth, had been unable to have children. But against his will, K'dle Tr'ektu became attached to the child.