Chapter XVIII

Michael leaned to the side to avoid the wooden sword coming from above. He barely met the blow with his cudgel, otherwise, he would have ended up with one more bump on his head. He stepped back immediately to increase the distance, but exactly at this moment Uriel kicked him so hard that all the air escaped from his lungs, and if not Angela's cry - "Don't give up, Michael!" - he could no longer stand up.

It was as if these words gave him some strength... Humph... How long should I lay on the ground? As soon as he regained some breath immediately jumped to his feet and made a furious swing with his cudgel, but it was unthinkable for Blondy not to take advantage of his reckless reaction and struck him in the chin with the hilt of his weapon so hard that he went down numb, sparkles in the eyes. And then the darkness took over... Upon regaining consciousness, leaned against a wall. Still dazed, listening to Angela's jokes about his mastery, and watched the fencing of Uriel and Lucius.

Blondy was much better than both. Nor was it surprising from a boy trained by the best fencers at the royal court. But that was not all. He had his style of combat. Sometimes Uriel moved delicately like a butterfly, sometimes forcefully swung his sword like a raging bull and that made it almost impossible for the opponent to keep up with his pace. That's why neither Michael nor Lucius nor some other guys (many of whom were two to three years older than them) could not hit him even once during all this time.

As for Lucius, he was a calm and cautious one, rarely attacked Blondy, and mostly defended himself, so he lasted longer while fencing with Uriel. Blondy said that Michael had a better reaction but was impatient, and so he seemed to have the most bumps or bruises. The rest of the boys were not weaklings, but not too strong either. They know too little about sword fighting, so, despite their age difference, they could not easily beat Michael and Lucius.

They held practical exercises throughout the day in the noble district, and they could not complain about the lack of teachers. Most of the officers trained the people in sword fighting, but masters of martial arts who drastically increased in numbers after the invasion also shared this burden. From time to time, Lord Marcus would explain how to fight red-eyed (who only looked like humans on the outside), who were usually much faster and more agile than ordinary men (not to mention the ability to regenerate).

The wizard said that they react poorly to light and thus it is better to fight them in the sun or the powerful light of torches. For this purpose, the fire was constantly lit on the battlements and there were mirrors to provide light for relatively dark places. According to him, the red-eyes or otherwise the marked ones were deadlier at close range, so everyone should try to keep fighting on a long-range with bows and arrows before they approach, which was an incredibly difficult task because of their enhanced reaction and regeneration abilities. So, on the very first day of entering the town, the wizard made a liquid in which the drawn weapon was much more effective against marked ones.

It was already the third day that they were in quarantine, but the attack did not take place, though at night you could see the red dots on the roofs or in the streets, leaving everyone restless in the rich district. Servants of the temple of Rahail silently cursed the wizard. They believed it was a punishment from God, but they did not dare to say anything out loud, for in the depths of their hearts they feared physical death more than the spiritual perdition.

Michael and Lucius continued to spar with Uriel. After the practice with officers, did not drop their swords from morning till night. Soon it was non-arguable that Blondy was a better teacher than most of the officers, and so they stopped losing time with them. A small space was found between the house and the wall, and they held their fencing lessons amidst the encouraging shouts of Angela and Lyle. Soon after, Uriel became so famous for his lessons that the number of fencers behind the house drastically increased. To ask Michael, it wasn't just Blondy's influence. Not a few boys came here to see Angela rather than to improve swordsmanship and this somehow irritated Michael too much, though he said nothing.

Girls soon followed the boys and amidst all the cheering and coquetry; it became interesting and even fun to watch the fights. Michael was not pleased at all as he got his ass kicked in front of so many people while fighting Uriel. Yet he spared no effort to study fencing, but that turned out to be a lot more difficult than he thought, and he studied most effectively while fighting against Blondy. Though each clash ended in defeat for Michael, it still attracted him. In those few seconds, when the swords collided he felt a fluttery sensation through his body, its agility and spontaneous movements evoked an unimaginable sense of freedom in Michael's soul and till he could stand on his feet, despite the bruises, selflessly threw himself into the momentary pleasure of dueling. That's why his fights lasted the shortest. Caution, escaping the clash, diminished the feeling of freedom, and so he was never careful. Michael always attacked hastily to feel that excitement in the body and the freedom - in the mind, derived from the clash. It didn't matter to him how the fight ended. Victory or defeat, it meant only one thing for him, the end of the few seconds that so captivated him, thus neither victory brought great joy to him, nor defeat - great pain.

Another opponent of Uriel fell on his stomach with his hands clasped (Lucius was already defeated). The Blondy looked around and, unable to find anyone willing to fight, turned to Michael and asked with a smile, "want to try once more?"

Michael got to his feet with difficulty, picked up the cudgel, and headed for the middle of the circle of boys. The fact that nobody expected him to accept the challenge amused him somehow.

As he approached, he held out his wooden sword and waited in a fighting stance, though Blondy quietly stepped back: "Look, better you spar with someone else and I'll take a short break," he said with a smile, and chose the opponent for him, who obeyed with alacrity. Michael knew the opponent. He still remembered the strength of his fists, when he tried to seize the money from him and Lucius collected from selling pans. He was the brunet Uriel beat up with two boys and then had to swim in the river because of his friends in ice-cold water. His name was Damien. On the second evening of practicing with Uriel, he came with the other boys and asked them to teach them fencing. Michael, at first thought he didn't remember who they were, but then he realized the Blondy remembered very well, but he accepted a request also he realized the brunet would not dare to make such a request on his own, had he not received an invitation in the first place from Uriel?

Blondy gave the signal to start the spar and before Michael could clear his mind and attack, the opponent already had swung his cane, and he barely repelled it with his wooden sword. Otherwise, it would gnash his teeth completely.

Blow turned out to be so forceful, if he hadn't met with both hand grip, he would have had a hard time holding it back. As he blocked the blow, leaped to the right and tried to hit from above to the opponent's forehead, but the cudgel from the side changed the direction of the blow and he ended up hitting the opponent in the shoulder. Damien's snarl and the blow towards Michael's face were almost simultaneous, and he hardly pulled his head back, otherwise, it would have cost him dearly, though the inertia caused by this movement was such that he had to take a step back to prevent him from falling. This gave the opponent an opening for attack. He swung the cane to Michael's feet and help him fall on the ground, then tried to strike him while laying. But Michael spun in lightning speed, evaded the hit, and, while still on the ground, hit Damien hard on his wrist in response. The embittered brunet no longer had the ability to fight and nor desire. Michael won.

He heard the words of praise from friends as he stood and stared at the brunet, who was almost in tears, as he massaged his injured wrist. Is this really that guy who's only a glimpse has scared the hell out of me so far? I bested him today, thought Michael. He felt this fight added something to him, something inexplicable but pleasant. - And it's all your merit, Blondy. You gave me all the means to fight that one, to overcome my fears, to become more confident in my strength. - The boy thanked Uriel in his thoughts... Uriel announced a half-hour break. Michael wiped the blood off the nearby fountain, tidying up. He was so beaten up and exhausted that he could not say a word, let alone talk to Angela and Lucius.

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Half an hour soon passed and the next stage of training began, mastering various skills. They also involved girls in such exercises. They often asked some irritating questions, but he diligently explained it. Michael thought the girls weren't interested in the answers, they were just flirting with Uriel, but not everyone was behaving like that. Neither did Angela that made Michael happy. The training lasted until the evening and the people slowly dispersed. Those who remained gathered sticks and sat down to regain some energy. They sat for a few minutes so that they could not even speak and then moved to the fountain to quench their thirst.

It was getting dark and the tension inside was growing. Everyone was waiting for the attack at night and despite the training in fencing or the tools enchanted by Marcus, fear still settled in the district. Deep down, everyone knew they could not easily stop the attacks, and even if they succeeded, many would die.

The streets, the yards, were full of people. When people were together, it was easier to deal with the fear caused by the expectation of danger. Every evening they gathered in groups, trying to cheer up the fear in their hearts, especially after the sunset. Each day indeed differed, but today was clearly unusual. Everyone noticed this, and a strange silence descended on the district. Michael did not know why, but Uriel went towards the wall and they followed. Laily walked arm in arm with Lucius, and Michael and Angela followed behind.

"You fought well today,"- Angela began. Her big, black eyes burned Michael's heart inside out. He wanted to say something clever, make an interesting conversation, but he couldn't think of anything.

"Uriel was also cool." - that was all he muttered.

"That brunet was a head taller than you, but you still defeated him. Blondy says that you have a natural talent."

"Do you often talk about me?" - Michael seemed heartfelt. - "Not at all," Angela added as she stepped forward. - "Well, it would be good if you thought a little more about the victory, and less about the shaking of the sword." - she took a few steps forward and did not stop.

Michael realized the girl got upset with him. - What an idiot you are, Michael! - Got angry with himself, tried to push himself forward, but his knees felt so numb that he soon gave up and continued at his slow pace. Those ahead were already on the wall when Michael climbed the steep stairs.

What's going on? - He wanted to ask surprised by the silence, but couldn't say anything, as looked at what was happening. Behind the wall, on the roof of the house, stood a child, probably a girl. She wore only a silver nightgown over his body, flapping away by the wind. She seemed like a ghost in the moonlight - a red-eyed ghost.

In the empty city, they got glimpses of them many times, but for a moment only, and then they faded and disappeared. But this one stood motionless. From a distance, she looked as if she were looking everyone in the eye one by one. Her gaze did not allow anyone to look the other way. Suddenly a second child appeared on the roof of a nearby house, a boy about the same height and red-eyed too. He was wearing a shirt and crop pants. So, the children began to appear on the roofs, and soon their number exceeded a few dozen. They stood silently and stared, and those above supplied the enchanted weapon inside the wall and lit a fire in every corner to illuminate the area in the event of an attack.

The wall was full of officers and experienced fighters, armed with spears, bows, and crossbows to kill enemies from a distance, just as the wizard had taught them. And those who could not reach the wall in time standing on the balconies and roofs of houses in the streets. It was a terrible feeling to stand behind a wall waiting for death to enter the gates. Michael clearly remembered what they were alike, and if not for the many people around him who had inadvertently added to him some courage, he would not be capable of withstanding such fears. The hours passed and nothing happened; they attacked no one. Midnight was approaching. Tension and fear grew among people.

The bell rang. The sound announced midnight in the city at other times, but now it meant just one thing - the attack has begun.

Fighting was going on in the district of the rich. People were running, falling, swaying under the wave of the crowd...

The greatest weapon possessed by the marked ones was the fear factor. If it weren't for that, those inside the wall could soon win. After all, Marcus also fought with them and fought incomparably. They also had new weapons and how could a few dozen red-eyes not be handled, but the fear was so strong that those fleeing from death were teasing each other instead.

Uriel took the spear from one of the wounded fighters, threw his sword at Michael, and shouted, "Follow me!" At the corner of the wall, or the junction of two walls, they fortified. On the way, whatever weapons they could get, they set up all the walls like a barricade. The escape was not an option. The marked ones mostly chased runaways. They were easier targets to hunt down.

Finally, they managed to repel the attacks, thanks to the wizard.

The entire area was lit by the moon and a huge number of torches. Survivors looked out of the broken windows with frightened eyes. Arrows fired from balconies and roofs slammed into the streets. The screams from afar still reached Michael. It seemed everything has not ended yet, but the sounds seemed to subside soon, for there were feels of joy and hope in them. People scattered in the streets and searched for the survivors. Many of the wounded and injured were still alive and in need of help, so despite their own wounds and fatigue, they did not hesitate to save as many people as possible from death. It did not miss Michail's eyes that the rich also came out of their palaces and helped the people in search of the wounded. They may have been looking for their own, but it didn't matter. The key thing was that everyone tried to help each other. Then they saw the Wizard. He was wearing a cloak, followed by officers, holding dead bodies of children with white eyes.

They placed corpses in the middle of the square near the gate of the wall. Then people started coming from every street, bringing the bodies of the dead and resting them in the same place. The sense of joy that victory and survival had brought to the people was slowly drained, like the lives of those children who had recently turned into red-eyed monsters and slaughtered people, but now their small, feeble bodies rested in the square. They killed those children and even though everyone knew they had no other way to save their own lives. It was a terrible feeling to realize that they had at least committed this horror.

"We have to finish the job!" the wizard said in a low voice, nevertheless, everyone heard it and they understood what was meant by 'finishing the job.'

A man standing next to Lord Marcus, in whom Michael hardly recognized bloodied commander, took one officer's torch and advanced towards the resting bodies on the square, but the Wizard stopped him with a hand motion, entering the middle of the square himself. He paused, his hands clasped like a dancer as if he was fondling something in mid-air, and in a few seconds a yellow dot appeared between his hands, and from that point, a fire broke out and hung in the air. As if Lord Marcus was sculpting a fire, giving it a shape that grew continuously, circling around Marcus hellishly. The wizard waved both hands and set fire to the corpse. Waves of fire surrounded the motionless bodies and engulfed them.

Michael saw Lucius had turned his face away, and he remembered what his burned bodies were reminding him of. The heat of the fire overwhelmed Michael. He couldn't help but stare at the burning fire almost all over the square, in the middle of which stood Lord Marcus, raising his hands to the sky. "How can he withstand such ardor," thought Michael, but he also realized that such questions made no sense. He had no clue what it meant to be a wizard.

The fire was getting stronger and stronger and rising above. The yellow flames already covered the wizard. Only the rising hands could be seen and when the fire approached his fingers, Marcus waved his hands and it subsided, and in a few seconds, the fire was completely extinguished and left emaciated bodies all over the square. A strange, unnatural silence fell as soon as the flames stifled. The breeze blew, swaying ashes from the square, and at that moment they heard a voice as if it were far away, but at the same time so close that it was as someone was shouting in your ear. The voice was gradually getting louder, sounded like nothing ever heard and you could not forget it. Odd emotions accompanied it. Everyone could feel the pain, anger, or sadness. People covered their ears, some even fell into agony. Some of them were hallucinating, shaking hands meaninglessly, and jumped here and there like crazy, wrestling with each other and rolling on the ground. Michael stood by and could not understand why others acted like that and what was wrong. Nothing happened to either Lucius or Uriel. Angela was standing paled, but nothing else was wrong with her, though Laily was crying heartily and Lucius was calming her. It seemed to have much effect on younger ones. Michael didn't know how it would all end, except for Lord Marcus, who uttered an unusual whisperer of unfathomable words that overwhelmed the voice of a mysterious creature, and people came to their senses.

Laily stopped crying and looked dumbfounded, townsfolk who had been rolling on the ground a minute ago could not even remember what had happened and were waiting for an explanation from the wizard, who was sitting in the middle of the square, against the backdrop of the ashes floating in the air, looking like worn out phoenix waiting for its cyclical death to be reborn again. Michael could not understand what get him so exhausted was it a fire spell or the words that he whispered at the end. He felt he had known the answer already, somehow felt that wizard embedded an enormous amount of energy in each word whispered.

"What was that voice?" the commander asked the wizard.

"That.." Marcus began in a surprisingly tired voice, "was the voice of a vessel..."

"What vessel?" asked the second question in a frightened voice.

"The vessel of the Red Regad..." muttered the magician and lost consciousness.