Arian. [https://i.imgur.com/Eq4qOAu.jpeg]

The shaggy warriors - the rugaru - moved silently, like shadows. They were going to surround me, to take me into a "ring". My heart beat in my breast, and I understood that my rear was covered only by the trees in which my childhood friends had hidden, not suspecting of impending danger.

Another time I regretted that I was left without a true sword. My thoughts about the Righteous, who once felt like an extension of my soul, exacerbated my anxiety. If he were now in my hands, I would again feel the forgotten strength and courage, capable of making fear retreat. But now, when the enemy came against all sides, I was only a lone warrior against the enemy.

Having taken out the sword Bruno lent me, I prepared to fight, feeling how his cold blade caused goosebumps on my skin. The place for the skirmish was not conducive to success: the thick trees stood by, as silent witnesses, ready to swallow up any cry. I didn't understand how they ended up here, in this, it would seem, impenetrable swamp, where even fear itself does not dare to show itself.

The time to solve this puzzle is running out. The wild warriors, covered in wool, approached, their predatory eyes attentive and full of hatred. I felt panic rising in my heart, but fear could not paralyze me. To protect myself from the rear, I slowly retreated, approaching the forest village of the old man Micha, as if seeking protection in old memories of the support of the harsh inhabitants of the forest.

Finally, I went out to a large clearing, where the air seemed fresher, but the disturbing thoughts about what was going on in a wide chain did not leave me. Their confidence was overwhelming as if they knew that a single person could not offer serious resistance. They thought that being in the field of vision, I would not be able to hide, I would not be able to warn my fellow tribesmen. But at this very moment, somewhere beyond the limits of my field of vision, Bruno took away the real prey, and this thought gave me strength.

By coincidence, I encountered a squad led by Kragnar, the king of all the "rugnars. There was a tense atmosphere in the air, when the wild warriors, following the agreement with the Prince of the "Liho" forest, carefully crossed over the wet and shaky floor. This unusual transition was accompanied by the ominous clanging of drowned men's teeth emerging from the swamp's mud. For the soldiers, they looked like nightmares alive, ready to stretch out their slippery hands, covered with corpse green, to the hairy feet of the soldiers.

I observed how those armed to the teeth turned pale with fear and recoiled back, not having the strength to cope with the terror emanating from the ghosts. But, despite this, the crossing took place. The warriors, it seemed, entered Orkvalia as shadows, intending to show the utmost secrecy, to drive a knife into the backs of the people waiting for the army to attack the Big Lake.

By Kragnar's order, all the people the warriors encountered had to be taken captive. However, the forest looked deserted and silent. Not a soul was around, only a solitary traveler, who, as it seemed, represented himself as light prey. So they thought about it, confident in their impunity.

But I had completely different thoughts and plans. I didn't gather to finish my life in this forest, given to be torn apart by wild warriors. It was not for nothing that I visited Orkvalia seven times, each time gaining new magical and physical combat skills. I knew that I could change the course of events. A determination burned within me: I had to stop them before they reached their goal.

Having moved to the center of the clearing, I slowed down. This place seemed ideal for a fight, open and spacious. Before the beginning of the battle, I quietly asked for forgiveness from the trees, which were ready to become my allies. I struck the nearest tree with my hand to dispel the warriors' delusions about their impunity. It burst, scattered in pieces, and fell upon the enemy. The rugaru, who did not expect the blows, fell to the ground, killed, and maimed. Behind the first piece of wood followed the second, no less destructive.

The hairy warriors, realizing that they were dealing with no simple opponent, hid behind the trees, and in panic and confusion sought shelter from the flying wood. I saw how their stern faces were distorted by fear, how they sought protection in that which could still save them. Archers and slingers were drawn up to the first ranks.

Kragnar, who was following in the tail of the column, heard the crash of broken trees and the mournful cries of the wounded soldiers. His heart was pounding in his chest, as if he were back on the narrow mountain path, watching the figures of strangers slowly emerge from around the bend. Dispersing his comrades, he rushed forward, his voice breaking the air:

"Do not kill this soldier! He is needed alive!"

But none of the savages yet thought to shoot. The warriors, hiding behind the trees, fell into the grass, asking for shelter from the splinters of wood, stones, and clods of earth flying into them. Their hairy figures threw themselves about in panic, and I felt how fear pierced them, like a cold wind.

I continued to retreat slowly, throwing at the attackers everything that came under hand. In my soul, there was still the hope that the savages would come to an understanding and stop, or at least they would take up defensive positions in anticipation of a more favorable moment. I had to meet here with my childhood friends so that we could return home in full force, as we had moved to Orkvalia.

And, fortunately, my idea worked. The soldiers slowed down their pace. Then they were frightened, and then they were waiting for special instructions from their commanders. I heard shouts of joy behind my back and turned around. My friends, who had begun their journey through Orkvalia as armor-bearers and mastered some magic, now, having become warriors, rushed towards me, brandishing the fish they had recently caught.

They did not understand what danger threatened us all, and instead of swords they merrily waved fishing rods. The smiles on their faces sharply contrasted with the tense atmosphere around them. Instead of the support and understanding that I so longed for, I saw only mindless joy, as if our dangerous journey had left no trace on them.

Anger filled my soul like a boiling stream. I closed my eyes, trying to suppress the growing feeling of despair. These guys, with whom I shared dangerous adventures and experienced trials, remained as thoughtless peers, not realizing the seriousness of the situation. Fury was bubbling up inside me because I understood that it was precisely the danger they were about to face, and they did not seem to realize in what a terrible position we found ourselves.

Nicos held in his hand a huge bundle of fresh fish, and behind him with such bundles came Theodore and Alex. Michel jumped behind, and Sasha pulled him by the hand. Basil brought up the rear of the group, walking empty-handed. All of them smiled as if it was an ordinary walk, and not a mortal threat hanging over us. I looked at their faces and felt nothing but disappointment and anger. These boys, my childhood friends, who passed with me through so many trials in Orkvalia, learned nothing.

"You don't understand what's happening?!" - I burst out furiously, looking at Nikos, who simply froze on the spot with this stupid fish in his hands.

Their smiles slowly faded when they noticed my sword and finally realized that there were a lot of people standing around the clearing. Savages surrounded us from all sides, their eyes burned with hatred, and animal aggression was felt even at a distance. They gathered to kill, and at this moment I realized that my friends could be torn to pieces right before my eyes if they did not wake up.

"Michelle!" - I cried, taking out of my bag a key in the form of a pyramid and throwing it to him. — "Quickly cool the grain, if you want to survive!"

Nikos, distraught and frightened, cast a glance now at me, then at the fish, which he still held in his hands, then at the warriors-regard, who slowly closed a ring around the glade. We were left with no chance of leaving this ring alive.

Michel, too, noticed the wild warriors and, seized with fear, fell on his knees and threw down Klyuch. I looked at them, and anger and despair boiled over in my soul. "Guys, not everything is lost yet! Just get yourself together and do everything right!" - cried I, trying to put all my resolve into my words. "You know magic spells, you know how to protect yourself! Now protection is simply necessary!"

Fortunately, something in my words may have awakened awareness in them. Basil threw himself at Michel, helping him to rise, and Theodore began to wave his hands in front of him, asking to create at least some semblance of a shield of power.

At this time, King Kragnar came out into the clearing and scattered his wards. Since the moment of our last meeting, he has changed greatly. His torso, barely covered by a fur coat, resembled the body of a man who regularly visits the gym. The relief muscles testified to the strength and power of the young king. In contrast to his fellow tribesmen, Kragnar resembled a human being more than an animal. He held a sword in his hand, the sight of which made my heart beat faster from excitement and anxiety...The ATM buzzed, the thief froze, and bills jumped out of the machine one after another. The thief’s face filled with joy and he took the money. But the more he tried to carry away, the more bills continued to fall, turning into a real avalanche.

The thief tried to put the money in his pockets, but the flow of money did not stop. He no longer knew what to do, and his confidence was melting before his eyes. Taking advantage of his confusion, I stepped aside and dialed the police number.

The police arrived. They surrounded the thief while he was busy collecting more and more bills. When they came and handcuffed him, he was confused. The thief looked around in amazement, not understanding what had happened. He couldn’t believe he had fallen into such a ridiculous trap. The police took him to the car, and I, remaining in the shadows, watched as his confidence gave way to despair.

My little trick worked, and I realized that I had done everything right. That evening, the thief did not get what he wanted, and his dreams of a fun evening collapsed along with freedom.

If you think that I am a person with superpowers, then you are very mistaken. Outwardly, I am no different from other young people living in the city. Average height, athletic build, attentive green eyes. At first glance, I am a college student studying painting and sculpting skills. However, I have a secret that sets me apart from my peers.

I have some magical abilities. I received these abilities in a country called Orqualia. The transition to this country from our ordinary world is carried out using a Portal, which is opened with a special key in the form of a three-sided pyramid. This key is an artifact given to me by a strange wizard named Nyx. Since then, my life has changed forever.

I have been able to visit Orkvalia seven times already. As soon as I have the opportunity, I will go to this country again. On the last, seventh, journey I was accompanied by my childhood friends: Michael, Nikos, Basil, Alex, Theodore, and Sasha. I will not describe the appearance of my friends now, since in this story the description is completely irrelevant.

Every time I visited this amazing country, I discovered a new level of magic and gained a new ability. These abilities worked well, both in Orkvalia and in our world.

Every trip to Orkvalia is not just about gaining new power, but also about incredible adventures full of dangers and mysteries. Thanks to these magical abilities, I could not only protect myself but also help others while remaining in the shadows.

To those around me, the arrest of the thief looked like an unbelievable coincidence of circumstances, but I knew it was the result of my magical intervention. My abilities gained in Orkvalia again helped restore justice. And although I look like an ordinary student, my secret knowledge and skills make me something much more.

A portal to a country where magic is commonplace will become available to me in a few days. Honestly, the thought of going back to this place fills me with fear. Because I became an ordinary person. I lost everything I had achieved during the previous seven trips to this magical land. Lost most of his magical abilities. But perhaps the worst thing is that I lost the trust of people with whom I had been friends since childhood.

I can and must save Peter’s daughter, my beloved Ena. I simply have to save her, despite all the obstacles and losses. But how? How can I, without my previous magical abilities, drive away the representatives of the evil and warlike people who have captured Orkvalia? They have become an unstoppable force, their power, and cunning surpassing anything seen before, and my fear of them intensifies with each passing moment.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Until the Portal opens before me, I live in our modern world, trying to find answers and gain strength for the upcoming test. I go about my daily activities, trying to fill the emptiness inside of me. But somewhere deep down, I know that I just got cold feet and ran away when I should have stayed and fought.

Working in my studio, I went over in my head the events that contributed to my exile. If I liked alcohol, I would be lying on the sofa, pumped up with alcoholic drinks. I enjoy intoxicating drinks but in small portions. Just to improve your mood. But now is no longer the time for self-contempt and diving into the bottle. I try to distract myself from my gloomy thoughts by absorbing myself in the sculpture studio. Creating the image of a beautiful girl, Ena, left in that country helps me concentrate, forget about past mistakes, and try to improve the situation.

Having escaped from “Orkvalia” during the attack of the “Canthumans”, I cannot get rid of the oppressive feeling of guilt that presses on me every minute. Why didn’t I stay and fight like a proper warrior? Instead, I ran away from danger with my friends, even after quarreling with them. Every time I remember that day, I feel a pang of conscience, reminding me of my cowardice and indecisiveness.

My hands are working automatically, but my mind is still busy with the internal battle. I try to find an excuse for my actions, although deep down I know that no words can erase my guilt.

I lost not only my beloved girlfriend but also friends, with whom I had been friends since childhood. No, they didn’t die. While escaping from the country of Orkvalia, we had a big quarrel. Usually, after such quarrels, people avoid meetings.

I locked myself in a room that my friends called a sculpture workshop. Although, it was difficult to call a room filled with shelves, drawers, and tables a “workshop.” It was more like a pantry, suitable for storing unnecessary things. And only the trained eye of a sculptor could determine that he was in the workshop.

In the boxes, in sealed plastic packaging, there was wet clay. Several varieties. White, gray, terracotta.

Smaller drawers contained tools designed to work with various materials. Stacks, stack loops—for trimming, rolling, acrylic brushes for wetting. These tools had the purpose of working with clay. For stone, there was another, rougher tool. Scarpels, hammers, hammers. Diamond crowns and grinding wheels.

A small crucible furnace, used for melting metals, found a place near the window. It cooled down, crackling with pleasure.

In the center of the room was a rotating sculpture stand, still empty. Unused pieces of terracotta clay were drying on the tabletop of the stand.

Many shabby armchairs and a soft leather sofa enlivened the boring interior of the workshop.

The casting turned out without flaws, smooth, without bubbles or cracks. She cooled down, allowing herself to be pulled together. It just needed a little tweaking to make it perfect. Remove the sprees, clean up small burrs, and deepen the transitions. The work is simple and requires patience and attention. On the table, almost at the workplace, there was an almost cold cup of coffee, and music was heard from the speaker system. All conditions for creativity.

In our world, which is advancing by leaps and bounds, manual work is irrelevant. With 3D printers, the need for sculptors disappears. Not a single person can compare with the efficiency of a machine, and I’m silent about the subtlety of parts produced by a 3D printer. While looking through pictures on the Internet, I came across photographs of figurines that fit in the eye of a needle. This is just some kind of fantasy.

While polishing the figurine with fine sandpaper, I thought about Ena, about her risky and unexpected act. After all, she could have stayed on the shore of the lake, together with Bruno, to wait for her father to return. Why did she do this? Why didn’t she feel sorry for herself, but rushed to protect me? Although, I ask stupid questions when everything is so obvious.

Remembering the fight in the cave, I shuddered. I am most to blame for what happened to the girl. There was no need to come up with this awkward plan and drag friends along with you. I needed to go on my seventh journey alone and do things differently. But is it possible to change what happened? Unfortunately, neither I nor Oceania can influence the flow of time, we cannot turn it back. Then no one would have died. Nor Aglon, a very smart boy, our faithful companion. Ni Ena, Pete’s daughter, is the favorite of our entire squad. I was lucky that none of my childhood friends were injured on this trip.

Just as I was thinking about my friends, my mobile phone rang, vibrating and shaking the cold coffee. Looking at the screen, I saw that Michael, our leader, who had learned to tame water in Orqualia, wanted to contact me through modern miracle technology.

“Hello,” his authoritative voice was dry and a little demanding. If he talks to his childhood friends in this tone, then how does he talk to his subordinates? - “We need to meet and talk.”

We broke up a few days ago. I didn’t call him, he didn’t call me. Our friendship was destroyed. I assumed so. Michael’s call took me by surprise and I became nervous. He wants to meet and talk!

I didn’t feel any particular desire to see any of my former squires. During the trip, we have frayed each other’s nerves and are now “licking our wounds” alone.

And yet, hearing Michael’s voice, I felt a quiet joy in the depths of my soul. A little hope was born that all was not lost. When we parted, I was not sure that the ties connecting our company were as strong as before the start of the trip.

“Come on, I don’t mind. When and where?”

“In about a minute, in your workshop.”

“I don’t have time to meet now, I’m busy with work.”

“Is it hard for you to let your friend in?!”

Michael managed to surprise me. It seemed to me that our meeting would take place years later. But, as it turned out, he came to my workshop and waited until I opened the lock.

It was not difficult for me to click the door lock. Behind the open door, I was met by a silent company of “Noble Knights”. With those with whom I quarreled. My childhood friends are Michael, Nikos, Basil, Alex, and Theodore. And Sash. Our lost friend. Pale and disheveled, with haggard brown eyes.

In their hands, the former squires held heavy bags with purchases from the supermarket.

“ Surprise!” — the mischievous people shouted in unison and, without asking my permission, invaded the workshop. They knew my way around my room perfectly, so they left the bags in Alex’s care and confidently sat down on the sofa. Sash went straight to the toilet. Basil and Nikos, armed with joysticks, decided whose team kicked the soccer ball better. Theodore, as always, played the role of a biased fan.

Michael stood near the table and waited for me. Taking my little Ena in his hands, he studied her with interest.

“Your job? Ena, if I’m not mistaken.”

I nodded my head. It’s always like that with Michael. At first, he lulls attention by asking some distracting questions.

“Will you put it up for sale?”–he caught my destructive glance and corrected himself.

“Sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

“Why did you come?”–My mood was ruined. I didn’t want to see anyone anymore. Even those who were playing virtual football while sitting on the couch. Just a few moments ago, I thought that they, like me, felt some kind of guilt towards me. We seem to have lost each other forever. But, completely unexpectedly, all my friends came to me and pretended that we didn’t quarrel. Perhaps this is an unbreakable friendship. At first, they will argue, maybe even kick each other’s asses, only to smile a moment later at a not-successful joke.

“Sorry, I blurted out something stupid,” Michael corrected his own mistake as best he could. — “Don’t be angry, please.”

“You said you wanted to talk.”

“Yes, let’s talk,” “Chief” sensed the change in my mood. — “That’s why we came. Maybe we should go to the kitchen, where Alex was supposed to set the table.”

“Kitchen” was what Michael called the small utility room that served as my dining room. On a small table, there was a microwave oven and an electric kettle. A small refrigerator rattled in the corner. Modest and comfortable.

“What kind of holiday is it on a weekday?”

— “Now let’s sit down at the table, and I’ll explain.”

Alex set the table. Sliced vegetables, fresh vegetables, salted nuts and croutons for beer lovers, delicious carrots in spiced brine, microwaved French fries.

The participants of the feast did not have to wait long; a minute later the entire company was sitting at the table. Sipping brewed coffee, I waited for Michael to begin spatial speech and tell me why they came to me. Basil spoke first, instead of Michael, breaking the prepared script.

“Aryan, you can be angry with us. Hate us. We deserve it. We came to you as a team to ask for your forgiveness. Agree, we are all to blame. Each of us has a part of the collective guilt. I hope you will forgive and help us figure it out”.

“I understand nothing. What do they want from me? What kind of help are we talking about?” I looked at my friends in surprise.

“You said that before our journey together, you visited Orkvalia several times. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s true. I opened the Portal six times. More precisely, five times. Once the Portal was opened against my will.”

“So, can you tell us about these adventures?.”

“What is my story for? What do you want to know?”–I didn’t understand why they needed tales about my travels.

“You got angry and ran away from us, and we sat for a long time and tried to understand what happened to us. During a many-hour argument, we found out that we were not sufficiently informed about the country we visited.” — Nikos tried to clarify.

Michael added:

“Aryan, the way we behaved there is our fault and yours. You should have told us in detail what adventures you were dragging us into, we would have changed our behavior.”

“Really?! Who did I tell during the journey what dangers await us?” — I raised my voice nervously.

“Forgive us,” Nikos said, reconciling. — “We behaved like the last scoundrels. The journey is over, we don’t want to repeat it, so we came here to listen to you. How did it all start? How did you first end up there? After all, you have something to tell.”

“Yes,” I nodded my head in agreement. — “But what is the use of my stories?”

“Are you dumb?” — Sash exploded. — “They told you that your help is needed. Your story is helpful. You can’t lead us to Orkvalia right now?”

“No, of course. The key will open the Portal no earlier than Saturday,” I looked at my friends, and a guess illuminated my little head:

“Have you all come to me to wait for Saturday to come and go back to Orkvalia?”

“Good girl,” Michael smiled. — “And before Saturday, you will tell us all your adventures, and thanks to them, we will not make a mistake once again.”

“Do you seriously want to return to Orkvalia?!”

“It couldn’t be more serious,” Basil rubbed his palms, he always did this when he anticipated a good fight. — “I’d go back right now to kick those dog-headed ass.”

“Then we can go back,” I frowned at Basil, the Woodcutter, who received such a nickname for his ability to break tree trunks into small chips. — “Only we have almost no weapons, my sword is somewhere in Orkvalia, and I have zero magical abilities left. And who are we going to save? Ena is missing, Pete is probably already dead.”

“Well, who did you save before?” — Alex asked, gnawing one of the nuts with pleasure.

“And my girlfriend Iris?”–Sash did not calm down. — “Do you think that if yours died, then there is no need to save mine? That’s your truth!”

“Ena did not die. And I don’t think so. I’m just assessing our strengths and capabilities. If you remember, at the beginning of the journey, we also seemed to be afraid of nothing and were filled with the most daring plans.”

“I wasn’t with you,” Sash snapped, “So you shouldn’t attribute your miscalculations and defeats to me.”

“You weren’t there because you ran away.” Theodore reminded Sasha of the events of the previous trip.

“I didn’t run away,” Sash raised his head, “I went to Iris before your problems started.”

“Stop swearing,” Michael intervened. — “So we’ll never understand it.”

Michael was the oldest in our company by age. And the wisest. We all thought so. Although, in our time, how do twenty-year-old guys differ from eighteen-year-olds?

Our Water Tamer, despite his age, was married and had a small daughter.

“Arian,” he turned to me, “we have stated our request. It’s up to you. If you don’t want to, just say it and we’ll leave. We won’t rape you with memories.”

“I don’t mind letting you know. Once, at the beginning of the journey, I wanted to tell you everything I knew, but you interrupted and ridiculed me.”

Michael looked at Basil and Nikos.

“I promise that anyone who opens their mouth for anything other than business, I will cover it with blue adhesive tape.”

“I will help!” — Theodore growled. He was finishing his second bottle of beer and was in an excellent state of mind.

.image [https://i.imgur.com/jLVAfJu.jpeg]