[Dante Alan Skyisle]

I’ve never had a family of my own in USSR. My parents were relatively cold to me, as if the Great Patriotic War had torn something essential from them. My father was a locomotive engineer who managed to make Soviet trains twice as long by introducing more powerful engines and even received a gold watch from Stalin for his efforts. He was rarely home, constantly moving across Soviet railroads. He was one of many engineers who dedicated their lives to their work and helped increase freight traffic 55 times during the rise of USSR out of the desolation of the Civil War mire.

He often boasted to me that "USSR had a railway network of over 150’000 kilometres of which about 50’000 kilometres were electrified" thanks to his efforts. By 1954 Soviet train freight traffic was at 850 billion tonne-km, surpassing every other country on the planet, including our biggest enemy, United States.

Like my father, I threw myself into one University degree and then another and afterwards buried myself in intellectual work, dedicating my entire existence towards building a utopia that never came. In doing so, I never found someone to protect or care for. In 1992 I mulled adopting a granddaughter of a colleague of mine, Dr. Tamara Ishenko, but then USSR screwed up the Aralsk-7 evacuation and left me no other choice. Plus, my own health was beginning to decay from observing far too many nuclear tests at Semipalatinsk Polygon.

Things had been quite different from the start in Skyisle. Cassandra loved me with her entire heart and spent as much time with me as she could, taking me with her to agromancy jobs and telling me everything about the magic of local plants and animals. Georgi, always the crafty and inventive father, spent countless hours in his workshop, creating handmade toy weapons for us such as swords, arbalests and shields. He had even carved a small, intricate wooden skyship model for Delta and little wood gliders which made her giddy to no end whenever she launched them off the roof of our cottage into the forest.

Growing up with a caring father and brother Delta gained an exceptionally positive and upbeat personality in complete opposition to my cynical, serious one. Even now, as we sang the songs of “Bremenskiye Muzykanty” our voices echoing beneath the arcane arches of the Alanian Sentinel’s Tower, she managed to inject far more merriment into her lines. Delta grinned at me, silver-blue eyes glittering as she expertly alternated the pitch of her voice and took on the role of the princess, the cat, the dog, and the female bandit from the Soviet musical animated film.

As I sang the role of the Troubadour, donkey, rooster, King, his knights, and three male bandits, I dedicated a large part of Neurovista to spin circles around the tower, creating a ward-like defense system in case a monster or even someone from Skyisle showed up.

I had been right in doing so, because [Infoscope 3] detected an anomalous, empty space that was quickly moving toward us. I tensed up, focusing all three of my Astral submarines on the potential threat.

According to them, the nothingness was approximately in the shape of a person, matching the height of our lovely, emerald-eyed Overseer. Of course. The persistent girl must have followed us from Skyisle.

I peered into the Astral and immediately noticed her Vow. The divine-magic reinforced, shimmering, gold mushroom abomination was pushing Kliss onward to spy on us.

“Если близко воробей - Мы готовим пушку. Если муха - муху бей! Взять её на мушку!” I sang the lines of the King’s knight as I targeted the Vow.

Fingers shaped from nothingness pressed against the trigger of the magitek gun. I snipped three gold threads leading towards the invisible trigger finger of the girl. The Vow dove into the Astral, becoming untouchable. I sighed as I noted that the thread I snipped off her elbow weeks ago had now been repaired. At this rate, it would take me maybe a year to snip every single control thread off Kliss, or maybe never... if they kept healing themselves.

Kliss suddenly appeared standing heroically atop of a large boulder, disabling her [Invisibility] field.

I fell silent, looking at her. Delta noticed that something was wrong. She turned and spotted Kliss, her smile sliding into a frown.

“Lady Overseer?” I asked to fill in the silence.

“What are you two doing here?” Kliss demanded as she expertly jumped off the boulder, marching towards us.

“Singing,” I replied.

“Camping,” Delta said.

“Look,” Kliss rubbed her hand where I had snipped off the Vow’s threads, "you two can't just wander off this close to the fault on your own. It's unsafe here. I encountered several dangerous beasts just on my way here, the biggest one being an adult Blood Elk.”

I crossed my arms.

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“Your Soul Sparks are dim,” Kliss pointed out. “You are children. Therefore I’m barring you from... camping here until further notice.”

“No,” I said.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Kliss came closer to me, staring me down.

“I unlocked my Soul Song and already leveled up,” I said. “By Imperial law, I am considered an adult and you cannot bar me from leaving the town Ward or having a relaxing picnic here with my sister.”

The Overseer pointed an armacus at my chest and pressed the trigger. My mind accelerated as I intercepted the [Identify LV 88] spell with all three of my Infoscopes and modified it to produce the desirable result.

“Huh,” she said, her entire face twitching. “Level 1.”

“I’m lower level than Dante,” Delta said, “But my Soul Song is also unlocked.”

Kliss exhaled. It looked like she wanted to chide us more about how unsafe the forest was, but then she also clearly had to obey Imperial Law.

“This ruin is old and decrepit,” she pointed out after a pause. “What if a wall falls on you?”

“There’s a magic tree here,” I pointed at the great [Mystic Oak]. “Its roots and branches are supporting the remnants of this tower. I doubt that a wall will fall anytime soon. Plus, this place is important to our future."

“What future!? The poisoned mists of the Valley of Death are too close,” Kliss said, eyeing the magogenic fault visible through the empty archways. “It’s unsafe here. You need to return to the village!"

“Haven’t you noticed it? These shimmering leaves are keeping the cursed effulgence away,” I said. “Breathe in, relax. This place is by far the safest in Skyisle, Lady Overseer.”

“How are you so certain of this?” Kliss raised an eyebrow.

I pulled the old Agromancy wand from my bag and waved it at her. I'd taken it off the wall of our living room a while ago, hoping to someday repair it.

“My mother’s an Agromancer,” I said. “We come from a long line of Agromancers, specializing in magical plants and fungi. Feel free to Identify that tree, by the way."

Kliss pointed her armacus at the tree behind us and pressed the trigger.

“Mystic Willow-Oak,” she muttered. “How… odd. I haven’t encountered this tree type in Skyisle before.”

“That’s because this particular tree is the only one of its kind,” I said. “Trust me. Feel free to check the validity of my words with your [Truth] spell, Overseer, I don’t mind at all. Have a seat please.”

I padded the rock next to us.

Kliss sighed again. She spun the dial of her armacus to the [Truth] spell and activated the continuous [Truth-sense] field as she sat down.

“Since I was one, my mother took me with her on her back in a leather pack across gardens, farms and even this forest. She taught me everything she knows about local beasts and plants. I know how to spot a Blood Elk or a Houndscrom or a Manbane several hundreds of steps away, and I know perfectly well how to avoid dangerous wildlife and which paths are safe here. You need not worry about us, Overseer. I practically grew up in this forest and I will be completely honest in my claim that I know far more about it than everyone else in Skyisle. I come from a generation of talented Agromancers and as you have taught us yourself last week... rare, exceptional skills pass down from mage to mage.”

Kliss relaxed visibly.

“The Sentinels of Alania, or as you call it… Almn-Inia, have forgotten their lore. Cassandra’s parents died when she was fifteen. My mother doesn’t know a single Necromantic or soul-manipulating spell. Alanians became the caretakers of the local forests, its rangers. Our mother was thus completely and utterly disconnected from the legacy of the Inians and she's the one who raised us,” I said. “You need not suspect Cassandra Alana of Necromancy because she’s as removed from such as possible by the very fact that her very soul is deeply specialized in Green, life-giving magic.”

Kliss nodded, her sharp expression softening.

“Since we now stand on Equal ground as adults, my Lady,” I said. “May we address you as Kliss?”

“You may,” the Overseer said.

“Very well,” I smiled. “Kliss, would you like a sandwich?”

“What?” She blinked.

“A sandwich,” I repeated. “Destiny made far too many!”

“Ham from the the Longosh Farm and veggies from the greenhouse of the Alans!” Delta smiled, playing along and shoving the sandwich into the arms of the Overseer. “You look like you missed lunch! Take a bite, I swear it won’t kill you!”

The offer struck the Overseer like a metaphorical train. Her emerald eyes went wide as she stared at us. She had clearly expected two foolish children which she would have to drag back to Skyisle, but instead she discovered two adults who could speak to her like equals.

Her fingers trembled as she raised the offered sandwich and bit into it.

“Kliss,” I began. “You’re far more determined and capable than the idiot Overseers we’ve had over the years. You’re stronger and tougher than everyone in Skyisle put together, but you cannot save this town on your own.”

The Overseer nodded, chewing thoughtfully. I slid closer to her so that Battie’s [Ward-Shield] could envelop, mute the pulse of her [Truth-Sense] enough to allow me to bend the truth ever so slightly.

“I’m here because my innate magic showed me that this tree has great potential,” I said as I waved the broken Agromancy wand in front of Kliss’s face.

The Overseer stared at the Agromancy runes on the LV 24 wand, beginning to believe my narrative.

“Let's work together, instead of apart,” I offered. “Let’s save Skyisle.”

“How?” She asked, eyes searching my expression for any hint of deception.

I pointed at the Mystic Oak.

“The Mystic Oak is our greatest tool,” I said. “I want to improve and modify this tree. To increase its existing potency in fighting the effulgence of the Valley of Death. We can plant its seeds all over Skyisle, grow similar trees in every garden.”

The Overseer’s eyebrows went up.

“You’re tired and look constantly annoyed. You’re balancing protecting everyone with teaching the new generation, since Wiklogg is an incompetent Instructor. Everyone in class can see that. I understand your frustrations with Skyisle,” I said. “You know that you’ve been demanding that we relocate our town, but the Elders and the Guilds refuse to move from this valley, don’t want to abandon their generation-old homes and gardens.”

Kliss nodded.

“You don’t have to fight the locals anymore,” I said. “We can save Skyisle using Agromancy!”

I felt that I had won her over. The smallest hint of a smile graced the face of my biggest enemy in Skyisle.

“I… I’d like that,” she said finally. “Dante, just one question... what language was that song in?”

Shit. Why didn’t I think about the answer to this question?

Argh.

Think, Slava, think!