Lost in thought, I didn't notice how the unknown road leading to the house of the blacksmith Maleus suddenly ended. There was no more than a mile to go to the village, and I began to think about how we could enter without frightening the inhabitants. Two giants, a centaur, a small dragoness - our company was a real test for someone's nerves. I wanted to discuss this with Tarnis, but he got ahead of me. His gaze was directed into the distance, where the first roofs of the village were already beginning to appear through the fog. He said sadly:

"I kept my promise and brought you to the village. Here our paths diverge."

These words hung in the air, and at that moment I felt sad. Tarnis, with his inscrutable face and stern determination, turned out to be a much greater friend than I expected. I did not want to say goodbye, but I understood that each of us must follow our path. I took a bag of money from the cart and, scooping up a handful of large copper coins, handed them to Tarnis. He shook his head and smiled sadly, and a shadow of sadness flashed in his eyes.

"I have never earned so much money in my entire life, and you give me this for a small trip," he said quietly, clearly trying to hide his confusion behind a slight smile.

"I also promised you that I would pay for the trip," I answered, feeling the bitterness of parting appear in my voice. - "And I will tell you honestly, what you have done for me is worth much more than I can offer."

Tarnis looked at me carefully, his eyes meeting mine for a moment. They read the weariness of long years of wandering and, perhaps, sadness about something lost. He placed his huge hand on my shoulder, and in this gesture, there was more warmth and gratitude than words could express. "Money is no substitute for friendship," he said at last, withdrawing his hand. "You have given me more than I could ask for—you have given me purpose, if only for a short time."

"Why do you not stay with us, and visit with Maleus?"

Tarnis lowered his head, and I saw his shoulders tense. It was difficult for him to answer as if he were afraid to disappoint me by refusing.

"If you had invited me to your home, I would not have refused," he said quietly, looking up with something like regret in his eyes. "It would be a great honor to be your guest. However, Maleus's home is a stranger to me. I do not know the smith, and he owes me nothing."

It was as if he were trying to explain to himself as well as to me why he could not stay. I could sense his inner struggle: the desire to continue the journey with me, and the knowledge that this was not his place.

"Tarnis, you don't have to feel obligated," I tried to lighten the mood, hoping he'd reconsider.

"Malleus is a kind man, he doesn't mind company. And frankly, I'd be better off if you stayed. I feel safer when you're around." But Tarnis shook his head again as if he couldn't bring himself to do more.

"I know you mean well," Tarnis said, his voice filled with gratitude and determination. "But I'm not comfortable in strange places. I'm used to the road, to the open air. Staying in one place is not for me. I feel like we're not going to be together for long. I'm going to the city of Forbant; I have unfinished business there."

I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment, but I knew I had no right to keep him.

"Well, I won't keep you."

We hugged goodbye. At that moment, the bitterness of separation was imprinted on our faces, the weight of this farewell was felt in everything: in our clasped hands, in the deep sigh with which we finally let go of each other. The giants watched us, remaining silent, Yurion impatiently stamped his hoof, and Chiquita shook her head in displeasure. She meowed something, and Tina, sitting in my backpack, translated her words:

"Why is he leaving? How did we offend him?"

Tarnis knelt to be at the level of the dragoness, his gaze was soft, but his eyes betrayed sadness.

"I part with you not without regret," he replied, carefully hugging the little dragoness by the neck. - "But our journey together has come to an end. It is customary for humans to say goodbye before parting. This does not mean that we will not meet again."

He spoke to Chiquita as if she were a slow-witted child, wiping away her tears and gently touching her little paws as if he wanted to convey all his warmth to her. Chiquita looked at him with bewilderment and resentment, as if she was trying to understand why she was being abandoned.

"The main thing is, don't cry," Tarnis whispered, and there was tenderness in his words. "You're brave, aren't you? And who knows, maybe I'll be around again soon. You don't like to sit in one place for long either, do you?"

Chiquita nodded, although she looked confused, but her eyes still sparkled with unshed tears.

Tarnis ran his hand over her scaly head, calming her, and slowly rose when it was time to say goodbye to Tush and Tina. He carefully took the fluffies in his arms, one by one, and kissed them one by one, as if he were saying goodbye to members of his family. His embrace was warm and sincere, and his gaze was such that it seemed to promise that this parting would not be forever.

At that moment, Yurion suddenly growled, as if he felt that our group was losing someone important. The growling stopped for a moment, and in that cry, there was an echo of our shared anxiety and pain.

I felt that we all lacked words to express what we truly felt. Tarnis took a step back, his figure seemed a little less confident than usual, as if his soul was wavering between duty and the desire to stay with us.

"Take care of each other," he said quietly, looking around at us with a look that reflected the weight of the moment.

I watched Tarnis leave. His steps, hesitant at first, gradually became more confident as he slowly disappeared down the dusty road, leaving behind only a thin trail of memories of our journey.

"Tarnis! Stop!" I called loudly, and he stopped, looking around with slight bewilderment, waiting for me to give him another reason for being forced to stop.

I turned my gaze to Yurion, our centaur, standing nearby. His body, the embodiment of power and wildness, seemed to be struggling to contain something lurking deep within. I stepped forward and said in a firm voice:

"Yurion, today is the day when promises must be kept. I promised you that when you realized your actions and corrected yourself, I would return you to your former appearance. You have proven your loyalty and earned forgiveness, which means I will fulfill my promise."

The centaur jumped wildly as if an urge to say something had awakened in him, his eyes sparkled with a mixture of anxiety and hope. He knew that this moment had come. I raised my hand, my fingers outlined complex magical symbols in the air, which began to glow with a soft, muted light.

I focused on the energy swirling inside me and felt the pulsating rhythm of Oceania responding to my call. My voice sounded clear and decisive:

"Centaurus mustangus!"

A glowing stream of milky-silver light burst from my fingers, which enveloped Yurion like a cocoon. Inside the cloud, his figure began to waver and distort, as if the boundaries of his body were blurring and melting in a strange dance. The whole process was slow and mesmerizing: the cloud seemed to be breathing, changing shapes and shimmering, a transformation taking place inside it.

Suddenly, the silvery glow flared brighter, and a muffled rumble was heard like a clap of thunder softened by thick clouds. The cloud began to dissipate, revealing two brothers, Yurik and Lyon, standing in the place where the centaur had been just a second ago. They stood, slightly swaying, but alive and whole, as if they had just freed themselves from many years of captivity.

Yurik and Lyon, struck by the unexpected freedom, looked around with surprise and relief in their eyes, trying to comprehend what had happened. Their faces reflected a mixture of joy and bewilderment - a moment when many years of torment and anxiety were replaced by freedom and a new beginning. I looked at them, feeling proud of my abilities and of having restored my brothers to their true nature. It was not simply a promise fulfilled, but an act of mercy and justice that required both strength and knowledge. The magic in my hands was a tool, and I used it with skill and care.

"Your torment is over," I said, slowly lowering my hand, "you have the right to choose what you will do - stay with me or go with Tarnis."

Tarnis watched the scene in complete silence, his eyes shining with unspoken emotion, his mouth slightly open in undisguised surprise. He hadn't expected to see such magic, and his voice betrayed a mixture of shock and admiration:

"Let the dragon eat me! I always thought that Yurion was a centaur by birth. And here it turns out, two brothers were hiding." Tarnis shook his head as if he couldn't believe his own eyes, but his words were filled with joy for his freed brothers.

Lion, finally feeling free and able to express everything that had accumulated in his soul, took a deep breath, enjoying the sound of his voice:

"Oh!" he exhaled sweetly, his voice trembling with joy and relief. - "I can talk, and you understand me! And don't take my phrases for the rumbling of a centaur's stomach." Lyon smiled, and for the first time in a long time, real, undisguised joy appeared on his face.

Yurik, standing next to his brother, looked around at the people around him as if trying to get used to the fact that they were no longer one being, but two separate people. He met my gaze, and his eyes showed gratitude that was difficult to express in words.

"Lion," I said to my brother, trying to hide a slight smile, "there are pants and shirts in the cart, take them and cover your nakedness. We have girls with us!"

Lion instantly blushed and, embarrassed, rushed to the cart to find clothes. This caused a slight laugh among the giants and Tina, who snorted quietly, covering her mouth with her paw.

Chiquita watched what was happening with interest, her large eyes reflecting mixed feelings - from surprise to incomprehension.

"Lyon! Yurik!" I took the bag of money again. "Take these coins, you earned them during your journey."

"Arian!" - Lyon stood before me, agitated and confused. "You taught me the most instructive lesson. I will no longer behave the way I did at the beginning of our acquaintance."

"Maybe you will stay with me? I can teach you magic spells, teach you to understand the nature of things."

"I would gladly stay, and become your apprentice," Yurik answered for his brother. - "But first, I would like to return to our forest village in the form of a human." - he suddenly burst into tears. Tears rolled down his cheeks, he hugged me without hiding his feelings.

Yurik and Lyon had long since come to terms with the form imposed on them. They stood before me, finally in their true forms, which I had once taken from them as punishment for killing an old merchant. Now, having become people again, they were confused, like children who had lost their way home. They had lived for a long time in the body of one creature, a centaur, and had become accustomed to the fact that I commanded them, and directed their actions, and now this sudden freedom seemed frightening.

Yurik, the youngest of the brothers, could not hold back his tears - they flowed down his cheeks, salty and bitter, as if they were washing away years of humiliation and suppressed feelings. Lyon, the older brother, saw this and tried to remain restrained, but his trembling lower lip betrayed his inner struggle. He looked back at Yurik, his gaze darting about as if trying to find in his brother a point of support that had once been an inseparable part of his being. Seeing his younger brother in such a state was especially difficult for him, and he tried his best not to burst into tears, as if afraid to show weakness.

Chiquita, the little dragoness, rubbed her head sympathetically against Lyon and Yurik, sensing their confusion. Her scales slid gently over their shoulders, and something was soothing in this gesture as if she were trying to share their anxiety and offer her support, despite her lack of understanding of what was happening.

The little fluffies, Tush and Tina, did not remain on the sidelines. Tush, more knowledgeable about the nature of the centaur, hugged the brothers one by one, feeling their warmth and trying to comfort them. Tina, not fully understanding how one creature could split into two, watched what was happening with surprise. Her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, now reflected confusion and slight anxiety, as if she was trying to solve a complex riddle. I watched them, remembering how I had once enchanted them, uniting them into one creature, and now, returning their freedom, I saw how difficult it was for them to accept this gift. No one commanded them anymore, no one showed them the way. They could move in different directions, and could separately express their emotions - joy or sadness, anger or fear, but this only seemed to add to their confusion.

"Tell Ulia I'll be back soon," I said to Lyon, trying to keep my voice steady, even as my chest ached at the memory of her. Lyon nodded silently, but his eyes were full of understanding as if he'd seen more than I was letting on.

"Perhaps you'd like to come with us?" Lyon suggested, his voice soft, almost sympathetic. "See her in person, please her with your presence."

I thought for a moment, and the temptation to see Ulia almost outweighed it, but business was pressing.

"I'd love to, but I can't yet," I replied, struggling to find the words. "There's still some unfinished business here. But soon... very soon."

Lyon nodded again, but this time his nod was more insistent as if promising to pass on my words. Yurik stood nearby, nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt as if he wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat.

"We will wait for you," Yurik said quietly. He was no longer crying and seemed ashamed of his unexpected tears. And what was he ashamed of? Each of us has moments when uninvited tears cloud our eyes. The farewell to the brothers left a bittersweet taste in the air, as a reminder that freedom and forgiveness are never easy, but they open the door to something greater than one can imagine.

I silently watched as the three people - Tarnis, Lyon, and Yurik, having finally realized their independence, began to move away from us, taking the first, still hesitant steps toward a new road.

The giants impatiently waited for the farewell to be over. I asked Emfit:

"Maybe one of you could stay here for a while? It seems to me that if we showed up in a group like this in the village, we would simply scare the peasants to death."

"As you say," Emfit shrugged his huge shoulders. - "Bump can deliver the cargo without my help."

"Thank you, Emfit. It was nice to meet you and here is my small gratitude," I extended my hand with coins. I didn't know if giants used human money, but I thought that these guys should be thanked. But Emfit flatly refused the money offered to him.

"You bought Bump and let him go. We only did you a small favor, incomparable to what you did. If you want to reward us, let us take this basket."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Maybe you'll take the money after all? What if you need to buy something?"

Emphit turned away without saying a word. Bump adjusted his basket and walked quickly towards the village.

Our procession heading towards the smithy left an indelible impression on the villagers. We walked along the street, and every movement of ours seemed to echo in their wary glances. For a moment, time seemed to stand still: the peasants, with shovels and baskets in their hands, froze in their places, unable to take their eyes off this strange and impressive group. Their faces stretched out in surprise and fear, their eyes widened, and some of their mouths remained slightly open in genuine amazement.

When Maleus emerged from the smithy, holding a heavy hammer in his hands, the tension in the air only increased.

The peasants' particular attention was drawn to the giant Bump, striding along the village street with an imperturbable look. His enormous figure seemed to fill the entire space, and each step left deep marks on the road. The men hurriedly removed the children from the road, and the women anxiously crossed themselves, whispering protective words under their breath.

Our group looked alien, unfamiliar, and frightening. My previous visits to the blacksmith had left no friendly threads between me and the locals, and now they did not see me as an old acquaintance, but rather as a mysterious magician accompanied by unusual creatures.

The greatest delight and anxiety was caused by the cart, from which the head of a small dragoness was peeking out. She, creaking with wheels, as if alive, crawled after the giant, Chiquita turned her head and rolled her eyes, looking with interest at the village life, and did not guess that her appearance alone was enough for the peasants to whisper and exchange glances as if they had witnessed the most incredible miracle. People surrounded us at a distance, some held pitchforks at the ready, others - baskets, as if this could protect them from an unseen creature. Bump, stopping at the door of the forge, sighed heavily and took the massive basket from his mighty shoulders. With a quiet thud, he rolled out a meteorite - rough, dark, as if carrying particles of an alien world. Blacksmith Maleus bent over the meteorite, slowly running his calloused fingers over its surface, appraisingly examining the offering. There was a master's concentration in his movements, but some elusive gleam slipped into his eyes - a mixture of fatigue and vague anxiety.

The giant looked at me questioningly, waiting for instructions, and I nodded briefly as a sign that everything was in order. Catching my gaze, Bump hurried away, taking the empty basket with him. Long after he left, muffled footsteps were heard, which seemed to vibrate in the air for some time.

"Are you back?" Maleus said, more of a statement than a question. There was a heavy tone in his voice, like the echoes of distant thunder. He looked at us all carefully, his gaze lingering on each of us, a little longer on the dragoness peering out of the cart, then on the fluffies sitting on my shoulders. "Will you introduce me to your friends?" I introduced each one in turn, even the cart with the dragoness, not wanting to miss a single detail. Maleus looked thoughtfully at our unusual company. It seemed that with each new figure introduced, a shadow of anxiety grew on his face. Contrary to my expectations, the blacksmith did not express joy at my return. His modest smile was strained, and his gaze from under his frowning brows was sad as if he carried within himself a burden of unspoken words and invisible worries. I could not understand what was gnawing at my mentor, why his eyes, usually sparkling with life and enthusiasm, now reflected only an insatiable sadness. He spoke in a rough voice, in which there was not a trace of the warmth that had previously been so characteristic of our conversations. It seemed as if my friends and I were out of place here, like uninvited guests who had violated something sacred and important. Maleus stood opposite me, and his stern features seemed especially stern as if he was trying to hold back some emotions that he did not want to show.

The air between us was filled with heaviness. I felt that there was something more hidden behind this cold mask, but he was clearly in no hurry to reveal his cards. Something oppressed Maleus, and this feeling weighed on him, filling the space between us and making him almost tangible.

We stood by the forge, examining the heavy meteorite lying at our feet. Maleus looked at it with narrowed eyes, as if trying to solve the secret hidden in the dark iron. His hands, accustomed to holding a hammer and making bronze items, slid uncertainly over the rough iron surface, not finding a suitable approach.

"How are we going to melt this ball?" he muttered, looking at the meteorite with doubt. "It's too big, it won't fit in any furnace."

I looked at him calmly, feeling confident, although not completely convinced of my plan. The blacksmith's uncertainty gradually took hold of me as well.

"Don't worry, I have an idea, but even I'm not sure it will work," I said, trying to instill at least a little confidence in him. - "Maybe Nix will help us."

Maleus nodded, but there was still a shadow of doubt on his face. He was waiting for an explanation, but I decided not to reveal all my cards at once.

"Before we start forging the sword, we need to make good hammers from this iron. Only then will we be able to make something worthwhile."

The blacksmith took a deep breath, as if weighing what I said, and finally agreed.

"Right. "The hammers are the basis," he said, and there was a note of approval in his voice. "But, frankly, the idea of forging this monster seems madness to me."

We talked, it seemed that there was no reason for panic, and yet I could not leave the feeling of some kind of misfortune.

While we discussed the upcoming work, I noticed how the blacksmith's gaze slid again and again toward the cart, from which the little dragoness was looking out. Chiquita sat quietly, curled up in a ball, but her eyes carefully followed every movement around her.

"Why do you need her?" Maleus finally asked, not taking his eyes off the dragoness. "Because of her, we could get into trouble."

I was silent for a moment, thinking about the answer, and then, looking straight into the eyes of the blacksmith, said: "She is under my care. We found her very tiny, barely alive, in a crumbling cave, carved out by this stone. Her mother died in a fight with another dragon, and she was left alone, vulnerable, and helpless. I did not dare to abandon her. And you? Would you leave her to die?" The blacksmith did not answer my question, he listened silently, but his gaze became harder after my question, as if he remembered an old insult. I pretended not to notice anything and continued talking. It would have been better if I had kept quiet: "She is not dangerous, Maleus. Yes, she has a fire inside, but she is learning to control it. She will not cause harm without necessity." The blacksmith smiled painfully, his face distorted by a grimace that I did not understand.

"Very well," he said, shaking his head. "If you are so sure, then so be it. But remember, people here are superstitious. Dragons are symbols of destruction for many. I will have to explain to everyone who she is and why."

I nodded, realizing that his words were not empty warnings.

"I know. But she is not just a dragon. She is my friend and I must protect her. I am sure that in time people will get used to her and will see her not as a threat, but as a protector."

I did not recognize my mentor. The blacksmith seemed distant and thoughtful, and this did not give me peace. He stood with his head down, tightly gripping the handle of the hammer, as if it was the only thing that kept him on this earth. His face was grim, deep wrinkles appeared on his forehead, and suppressed anger burned in his eyes. The silence between us grew heavier with each passing moment, and, unable to bear the tension, I decided to speak.

"Maleus, what's going on? You're acting as if I've done something terrible. If our visit is a burden to you, tell me. We don't want to cause trouble."

The blacksmith slowly raised his head. His eyes were filled with pain and weariness, and his anger, like a flame in a forge, threatened to burst out.

"Do you remember my eldest daughter, Mila?" he asked quietly, but there was a sharp edge to his voice.

"Do I remember Mila?" I answered, smiling involuntarily at the memories. How could I forget her? The first girl I met in Orqualia. She was brave and independent, and although her wariness towards me did not disappear until my departure, I liked her. I saved her from birds of prey on the very first day and helped her sow the field. We didn't become close friends, the girl treated me just like a good acquaintance."

"Of course, I remember her. And your son Morty and the younger Lisa. But what is the point of this question?"

Maleus, hearing my words, frowned even more, and his gaze became heavy, almost unbearable. He spoke in a voice as gloomy as a grave, and each of his words pierced my soul like a nail.

"You saved her then, but it was not enough. A few days after you left, a detachment of servuses - servants of the dragon - came to the village. They drove all the inhabitants to the central square, sparing neither the elderly nor the children. And they took all the young men and women of Mila's age. And her too. They drove them away in an unknown direction, like cattle. My heart broke then."

I froze in place, stunned by what I heard. I didn't know what to say. The image of Mila, a beautiful girl raised in the countryside, was eclipsed by images of violence and oppression. Her eyes, full of hope and quiet strength, suddenly lost their light in my memory, giving way to pain and helplessness.

Maleus turned away, his shoulders slumped.

"I tried to protest, threw myself into the fight. There were more Servuses, and I was the only one who spoke out against them. They beat me and tied me up so that I would not interfere with the servants doing their dirty work. I asked for help from everyone I knew, from anyone who could at least know something about her fate. But there was no answer, only emptiness and bitterness. And you come back as if nothing had happened."

I felt guilt wash over me. Maleus was right - I was away when they needed help. Could I have foreseen the disaster? Could I have protected her if I had stayed? These questions pulsed in my head, but there was no answer.

"I didn't know," I said quietly, feeling each word like a stone falling into a bottomless abyss. "If I had known..."

"You couldn't have known," Maleus cut me off, but his voice didn't soften. "Still, you should have returned sooner. But it's too late now. There is no way to get her back."

The blacksmith looked at me, and his eyes filled with tears. Perhaps they were tears of anger, despair, or hope - I did not know.

Maleus sighed heavily, his gaze directed towards the mountains as if he were trying to see through the distance what was hidden behind their misty peaks. His face became stony, but anger flashed in his eyes, like a flame in a forge.

"These monsters in the mountains - they take our children," he began bitterly. "They turn them into something terrible. Dragons use dark magic to break their souls and mold them into new servants. They no longer have human memories, no human hearts. Their bodies are mutilated, turned into something that resembles people, but with dog heads instead of normal faces. They lose everything that once made them human. These creatures are cruel and merciless, they know neither pity nor fear." Maleus clenched his fists, and his voice trembled with barely restrained anger. "This is all for the benefit of the dragons. They are preparing servants for themselves who will serve them mindlessly and unconditionally. And what oppresses me most is that these children, once our sons and daughters, themselves are becoming monsters. They no longer remember that they were people.

They do not know that they once had parents who loved them. Their hearts are dead, and their souls belong to the dragons now." He looked at me, and there was more in his gaze than a simple request - it was a challenge, a demand.

"I will do everything to forge you a sword that can cut not only the dragon's tough hide but also break the chains that bind these broken souls. But you must promise me one thing."

I nodded, realizing that this was more than just a duty or a mission - this was my chance to atone, to help those who were forgotten and lost.

"What do you want me to do, Maleus?"

"You must destroy these vile dragons," his voice sounded like a hammer on an anvil. "You must do this so that no mother will ever shed a tear for her child again, and so that no father will ever regret not having the power to destroy. This is not just a task, this is your destiny. You must defeat the monsters that steal our lives, our families, our future."

I looked at Maleus and felt his words pierce me. It was not just a request. It was a desperate desire to stop the inevitable, to fight the evil that overshadowed everything bright in this world.

"I promise," I answered, and my voice sounded firm and confident. "I will find a way to stop them. I will destroy the dragons and free those who can still be saved."

Maleus nodded, and his face, still gloomy, became a little brighter. He knew that this was not an easy task, but now he was not alone in his grief and anger. Now I was his ally, ready to fight until the last breath to put an end to this endless chain of suffering.

Lisa, Maleus' five-year-old daughter, ran into the smithy yard like a ray of sunshine. Her light curls curled around her face, and her eyes shone like the morning sky. She hopped carefree on one leg, humming something under her breath, and her cheerful laughter filled the yard with warmth. Her ringing voice instantly dispelled the gloomy atmosphere that hung over us after the conversation with the blacksmith.

Noticing me and the cart, Lisa stopped and squinted, examining the strangers. At that moment, the cart suddenly tilted sharply, and Chiquita lost her balance and fell to the ground right in front of Lisa. I winced, ready to rush in and pull the girl away from the dragoness, but Lisa suddenly burst into happy laughter.

"Daddy gave me a dog!" Lisa exclaimed joyfully, holding out her arms to Chiquita.

Chiquita's eyes widened, and a mixture of surprise and confusion was reflected in them. She had not expected such a reaction. I winked at the dragoness, encouraging her. At first hesitantly, but then with childish spontaneity, Chiquita stuck out her pink tongue and licked Lisa on the cheek, like a silly puppy, trying not to scare the little guest.

Lisa giggled even louder, rubbing her cheek and joyfully exclaiming: "It tickles!" She hugged Chiquita around the neck, not noticing anything strange in her appearance. In her eyes, it was a real "doggie", cheerful and playful.

Chiquita, feeling kindness and love, experienced something similar to affection for a person for the first time. She lowered her head, sniffed slightly and, it seems, even became embarrassed by such a sincere display of friendliness.

Maleus, watching this scene, involuntarily smiled. For the first time since we were here, his face softened slightly. The fox, carefreely continuing to play with Chiquita, changed the whole situation in an instant.

Lisa [https://i.imgur.com/2Y8CBDe.png]