Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story by Kirill Klevanski (essential reading .txt) 📗

when people were keeping secrets away from him, but also when it was for the best not to poke your nose where it didn’t belong. People were right, ignorance was bliss sometimes.

The two rode out of the elven quarter, leaving behind the lovely ladies and their magical homes. Their next stop was the butcher’s. Food could be bought from the trolls, too. Their stuff was better but it was also more expensive, so they had to choose between good grub or good arrows. The Stumps had made their choice without consulting Ash, who had a different opinion. That was probably why they had “forgotten” to ask him.

“Sit here,” Blackbeard instructed, tying his horse to the rack. “Keep an eye on our stuff.”

Ash gave him a mock salute and plopped down on the bench. Rolling his eyes, he focused on the boxes, tubes, and chest floating in the air.

Blackbeard, hoping that the mage would stay put, entered the store. Ash became bored as soon as the shield-bearer left his sight. He wondered what Blackbeard would buy, and what kind of person would be dumb enough to try to steal things floating in the air that clearly belonged to an experienced mage. No one wanted to mess with them.

“We got you, Ash! Surrender!”

Three people appeared next to him, two girls and one plump boy with rosy cheeks and a kind smile. The kids were probably seven or six years old.

“I give up!” Ash exclaimed.

The children smiled and the boy tossed his head back in triumph. But before he could say anything, Ash grabbed him and began tickling him. “The great and terrible Ash shall eat the little hero!”

“Noooo!” the boy cried, dropping his wooden sword. “A terrible beast is torturing me! Save me, oh, faithful companions!”

The girl with pigtails grabbed the sword that had fallen to the ground and smacked Ash’s knee. The mage yelped and dropped the still-laughing boy. The little one stepped on his foot and ran away with his friends. Once they were far enough, the three heroes turned around and stuck out their tongues at him.

“You’ll never catch us alive!” they shouted and started running, laughing as they maneuvered between the adults, who looked rather annoyed by both theirs and Ash’s behavior. But the young mage didn’t care. He was having fun.

“Oh, I will get you!” he shouted back and started running.

Sometimes, he’d catch up to one of them and start tickling them. The other two, seeing that their friend had been captured by the evil monster would rush to Ash and start kicking him in the shins, making him drop his prey and begin the chase anew.

The children were laughing. His eyes, for the first time in a long while, shone with genuine happiness and joy. Running through the streets without a care in the world... What could be better than that? Well, he wouldn’t complain if he had a lovely lady running after him... A man could dream.

Catching the girl with the pigtails, Ash froze. On the corner of the street sat a woman, wrapped head to toe in a tattered cloak. By her feet was a tin can with a couple of coppers in it. It was a pitiful sight, but something kept him from looking away. He kept staring at her, unsure of what was happening. For a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of the woman’s face in the puddle before it was disturbed by someone’s boot.

He knew that face.

Ash remembered the beautiful girl who turned into a decrepit old woman over the course of ten years. Through the wrinkles and rotten skin, he could still see the outline of the scar left by a gauntlet.

His chest was aching and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Long ago, that face had been hidden by a hood. He remembered children running away and a merchant standing still and watching.

“Hey!” someone shouted, snapping him out of it.

“Sorry!” Ash said, noticing the disgruntled Blackbeard tying several bundles to his saddle. Guido walked over to his friend and sniffed him nervously.

“I know you’re still a kid, but you need to stop playing games while we’re on a mission.”

“I’m sorry,” Ash repeated, mounting his horse.

“By the Heavens,” the shield-bearer muttered and turned his horse around. “Let’s go to the tavern before those bastards drink all of the ale.”

Ash kept looking behind him until the beggar’s figure was out of his sight.

Chapter 30 

25th day of Tamir, 311 A.D., Kingdom of Arabist, the walls of Zadastra

A sh watched as his men rode through the gates and into the field, heavy armor glittering in the moonlight. Mingled among them were magicians whose staffs glowed with magical lights. The battle would begin soon. The battle would be the culmination of their entire military campaign. Victory would mean freedom for his men and defeat death. All the cards had been laid on the table and all bets closed. It was the turn to see did the house always win or not.

A month ago, when they had reached the impenetrable fortress, victory seemed but a wishful dream. Little did the Foul Legion know that their general had the ability to make dreams come true.

They had been ordered to build two catapults. No one knew what the general needed them for but he got what he had asked for in a day and a half. He then ordered them to dismember the corpses of the defeated and bombard Zadastra with the bodies of their own. Heads, arms, legs, and torsos filled the air, leaving bloody prints on the walls of the fortress and fear in the hearts of its defenders.

Day and night, the soldiers of Zadastra took turns trying to stop the legion’s march. Ash, going against the laws of war, poisoned the local wells and rivers, leaving the city without water. He also