Dawn.
All night I messed around with Selon and the others, finding out where and how the money came from, as well as how it was distributed.
The baron, who was present at the time, became gloomier than a thundercloud by morning. And not at all from lack of sleep.
His soldiers weren't in the best of spirits either. What fun could they have when more than forty blades would soon be buried, and they would be sorely missed in the apparently coming war? Besides, having a master executioner at work nearby didn't exactly lift their spirits.
I, for one, was in fairly good spirits: on the one hand, no further memories had been awakened, and I still couldn't remember my name. But in pursuit of this hope, I displayed wonders of ingenuity with Selon. Keeping him among the living with magic, I dismantled his arms, stripping the muscles from the bones: I'd once been told that bare bones are extremely sensitive to any touch. It turned out that they were.
Selon's heart had already broken four times from the monstrous pain, but I immediately restored it with magic, not allowing him to die.
The bandit leader had long since told me everything both the baron and I wanted to know. And even more. By morning, we'd already gone round and round for the fourth time: I was trying to catch Selon out on inaccuracies and embellishments.
The half-breeds moved away from us to the other end of the clearing and cast terrified glances at me.
- Okay, Selon. I'm tired of it.
I cast 'Heal' and 'Sleep' on him one last time. Selon immediately sagged against the ropes. His wounds closed and disappeared completely, as if the watch had never been there.
Picking up a bag of two hundred gold coins from the ground, I nodded to the scribe sitting next to me on a camp chair, who was intently scribbling down the transcript of the interrogation:
"Well, I'm done." Hefting the bag in my hand, I nodded contentedly to the baron, who glanced back at me, and headed toward my horses.
Now my sack contains only about ten kilograms of money: the baron and his soldiers honestly collected the bandits' money and gave it to me. They also received all the horses and a mountain of weapons. For myself, I only took a quiver of short hunting arrows and a decent sack of provisions for myself and my horses.
While I was sorting out my belongings, Selon was tied up and, carefully wrapped in sackcloth, laid on one of the carts next to the other captured bandits.
That night, the baron sent a messenger with a well-escorted escort to the city, and by morning, three carts arrived, loaded with the dead. They were to be taken to the castle.
Now the camp and its surroundings were being combed once again in the sunlight by the arriving reinforcements, consisting of fifty soldiers and a carriage with two magicians.
Two young men in brown cloaks, symbolizing the Earth Element, were, frankly, unimpressive. For example, my magical gift also had a small portion of Earth Element, but judging by my feelings, they didn't even have that much, even together.
Incidentally, the latter were hanging around me, apparently intending to strike up a conversation, but they didn't last long—I'd just moved on to "in-depth memory recall of the human body structure." After they'd puked and barely made it to the nearest bushes, they made no further attempts, instead finding themselves searching for the bandits' hidden stash. They were quite successful at this.
Naturally, they immediately realized what lay beneath the clearing's surface and what I'd done to the forest. After they'd whispered something in the baron's ear for a long time, pointing their fingers around, he began to look at me with obvious apprehension. Perhaps it was because of this last moment that the baron began to treat me so honestly...
*****
The Baron looked once again at the elf in white armor, who was quite peacefully rummaging through his things.
What he did simply didn't fit the profile of a 'light elf.' Yes, the long-ears were cruel. Very cruel. But at the same time, they were fair and never tortured simply for pleasure. Especially not in such a sophisticated manner.
When asked directly, 'How can this even be?' Haalen responded with only one pithy word... 'Highborn.'
The Baron cursed under his breath. Had the civil war in the Great Forest already begun, and he saw one of the losers before him?
And that strange phrase he uttered during the torture: 'Now I'll show you a trick I learned during the Twilight War.'
Haalen, hearing it from the baron, immediately turned pale and, haltingly, said the following.
It turns out the Twilight War ended over two thousand years ago. What happened during it was so terrifying and horrific that even legends carry a chill of the grave, and true stories are best left unread before bed. When the baron asked why he'd never heard of it, Haalen looked at him as if he were a fool, then, remembering something, explained: the Twilight War is what humans call nothing less than the 'Dark Ages.'
And the baron, having understood everything, clenched his jaws so hard that his muscles almost spasmed.
Maybe he misheard?
When Long-Ears wanted his share of the spoils, the baron agreed immediately. He'd already gotten enough: forty good horses and weapons, threatening to leave him with a handsome profit after he compensated the families of the dead. Besides, he still had the furs, didn't he?
Oh, no, Tur was never greedy. And if you remember what his two mages, Lau and Otir, apprentices of Archmage Evyrn, who remained in the castle, told him...
Lau had always been interested in the 'eternals.' He often secretly measured their magical potential with a meter he invented. He collected the results for his research at the Academy. Lau said that when he was near the alien, his meter went off the scale.
Otir said that everything here is saturated with mana and all the threads are drawn to the elf.
They both deeply regretted not having seen the creature the elf had spoken through at the beginning. When they tried to talk to him about getting his copy to come out of the ground, they suddenly suffered a humiliating fiasco and, under the elf's ironic gaze, finally distracted from his terrifying task, they ran off into the bushes.
It all came down to one thing: it was better not to mess with the strange elf.
However, war suddenly loomed over the barony. Such a figure could have a significant impact on the situation. Let him simply heal the wounded, of whom there will be many in the coming war! After all, he calmly cast powerful healing spells more than a dozen times, even reviving Selon, who was about to die, a couple of times. The elf doesn't even need to fight. Let him sit in the infirmary and that's it...
On the other hand, assassins and even a search party from the Great Forest could come for him, and he'd really hate to get into trouble with them. If the elves disperse, they could deal such a blow that it would be a disaster. They'd simply wipe out the mages and officers and... that's it. The army would turn into an uncontrollable mob, fleeing at the mere sight of enemies.
Oh-oh-oh...
Maybe we can think of something?
*****
When the baron was getting ready to go home, I found myself at a crossroads.
Should I go with him or hide deeper into the woods?
Both options had their pros and cons.
If I'd gone into the forest, I could have disappeared so completely that my fellow tribesmen wouldn't be able to find me. Well, maybe by accident. And even then, there were other options—it was possible to go so far as to be unable to find my way back. For example, to the north... My memory had returned sufficiently for me to roughly grasp the structure of the world. The continent was very large, and it was possible to live peacefully in certain mountain valleys without seeing elves, or even any sentient beings, for centuries.
Of course, if I choose this option, all my dancing in front of the Baron was in vain. Maybe I should have just left without making contact with him. And then, with my awakened magic, nothing would have caught up with me.
Leaving with the baron, I could at least eat well, sleep soundly... and not even sleep at all. But in this barony bordering the Great Forest, I could bump into an elf just on the street. And since they might be looking for me... Hmm.
But.
There was one option. I could say goodbye to the baron (I think) and leave in front of the soldiers. Then I could take off my distinctive armor and either return to the baron or settle in the city. I have plenty of money.
Besides these two options, there was another one. A multi-move one.
Talk to the baron and take advantage of my village eldership to settle in his village. On the one hand, I had access to the baron. On the other, I wouldn't be living in a noisy, stinking city, but among half-breeds I wouldn't be ashamed to cuddle. The girl will grow up, and then I'll be able to. What are years to me? Pfft. I'm 'eternal.'
But the looming war precludes this option, and hopefully before it ends. After all, the war could wipe out not only this remote village, but the entire barony and kingdom to boot.
At the same time, war will create chaos, a place where it will be easy to disappear. And if I help the baron, he can arrange for me to be 'pretended to die.' Die a hero's death on the battlefield from a magical strike. And the communal grave will point to a couple of thousand bodies. As if that's where they were placed.
And that's it. You can live a quiet life in the village. You can even become a fur trapper.
The idea wasn't bad, but there was one possibility that the baron would be attacked not only by Zarzan, but also by the Great Forest because of me.
Then... Let's wave to the baron and run away. Into the forest. Far away.
Glancing up at the rapidly brightening sky, I pulled my hood lower over my face. It was one thing for people with poor eyesight to stare at me at night, but quite another to do the same thing in sunlight.
Actually, I once heard a joke that we practically look alike to people. They can hardly tell us apart. And when they start describing our features, it's just laughable. A half-forgotten image says: 'Someone robbed a man here. Well, we ask him what the robber looks like. The usual questions. And he mumbles to us (the unknown narrator successfully imitates the voice of a dull man): 'Elf... well... such a handsome one... one of your kind... marvelous...' And he's stupefied. Eye color? I ask. And the answer is: 'I think they're green...' We exchange glances, and our whole squad has green eyes...' Pfft. It's still funny.
I checked my things one last time and headed to the baron. On the way, I ran into the girl from earlier. When she saw me, she froze like a hare. Her nose had been fixed and, apparently, slightly healed, either with a spell or an artifact. But her eye was a sight to behold. All the colors of the rainbow. At least it opened a little. I should have given Selon a similar thrashing beforehand... And kicked the others around. Maybe I should have asked the baron for the position of his full-time executioner?
Stopping in front of her, I formed the 'cure' spell and thrust it into her chest. The bruises and swelling disappeared before my eyes. With a meaningful snort, I ruffled her short, silky hair and moved on.
The half-breeds were standing right next to the baron, clearly shocked by my actions, blinking hard. The knight rubbed his eyes and muttered:
- What a night. I'm seeing all sorts of things...
Deciding to ignore it, I greeted him:
- Baron Tur... - I nodded slightly to him and continued: - I was thinking...
But I was interrupted by the half-breed I saw in the forest:
"Why did you do this?" he said, almost with despair in his voice.
I slightly tilt my head to my left shoulder reproachfully:
- Personally, I'm of the opinion that every drop of our blood is priceless. Even diluted...
The Baron opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, producing only an uninformative:
- Hmm?
"Does this surprise you?" I asked, puzzled.
Tour exchanged glances with the half-breed and said:
"You're very different from the other 'eternals' we've met. For example, you're very accepting of half-breeds."
I shrug:
"I am who I am. Are the other elves not so friendly? It's just that my memory never recovered. I'm glad my magical abilities and general knowledge have returned. Everything else seems to emerge from a murky fog from time to time."
The Baron glanced sideways at the half-breeds again:
- Elves are fundamentally intolerant of half-breeds: they serve as a constant reminder that the people of the 'eternals' are so imperfect that even... - the knight hesitated a little.
I came to his aid:
- They don't keep their friends to themselves? - When the baron nodded, I snorted: - Pfft! The problems of snobs and neat freaks, who have never smelled the blood of enemies or friends, are only their problems. - My mood worsened and, gritting my teeth, I continued: - Each of the elves forges himself, and if they want to wallow in the blood of innocents ... forgetting that in doing so they themselves become evil, which some should eradicate much more thoroughly ... - I bowed my head, hiding from prying eyes, and wrapping myself in my cloak even tighter, whispered: - That's their problem, but not mine ... - the memory threw out a picture of the past. Some elf was kicking a half-breed, shouting at the same time 'Bastard! Bastard! '. Then I hit him in the leg with all my strength, breaking it. And I said into his sincerely uncomprehending eyes: 'He may be a bastard, but you are definitely a degenerate ...' With a heavy sigh, I looked up at the baron. "If that's all, then I'd like to talk about... my future." The knight narrowed his eyes, and I, glancing sideways at the half-breeds, continued. "I'd like to settle somewhere in your barony. However, I don't remember what happened in the Great Forest or why I... left. Things could be very bad. By the way, have you heard anything about the recent events there?"
Tur exchanged glances with the half-breeds again:
- Anyway... Rumor has it that the Great Forest is heading towards civil war. Apparently, one of the princes is aiming for the vacant throne, and the others are divided between those who support him and those who oppose him.
Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.
- And what about Lady Irullel?
The Baron frowned, and the half-breed tilted his head to his left shoulder in surprise and said:
- Irullel has been dead for two thousand years.
I hunched over and stared at the baron's grimy boots. His voice was so muffled that I didn't immediately realize it was me speaking.
- And Princess Aviléa?
- She died then...
My legs gave out and I fell to my knees in the mud. Aviléa... dead? No... She was killed... I carried her limp body into the Forest. I... carried... Why did I remember? I don't want these memories! I don't want to remember this...
As if through cotton wool, I heard:
- ...Are you okay?
I raised my clenched fists and, with difficulty, unclenched my trembling fingers. It felt as if I were holding her long-cooled body in my arms again. Her peaceful, incredibly blue eyes still gazed at the sky. A haughty smirk was frozen on her face. She even greeted the Goddess of Death, Atesh, with pride. Silly girl...
The spells passed through her body without any effect. Too late.
I remember how, also on my knees, I stood with her body in my arms at the roots of the Silluri Tree and prayed to the gods to give me a chance... And the arrogant gods remained silent...
I remember how at sunset I laid her body between the roots and it entwined itself with the roots, hiding it from my sight.
And then I left.
I've been hanging around for two thousand years, quite well. Or maybe I've been imprisoned somewhere all this time?
And why can't I still remember my name?
But now I understand my weakness for the half-breed girl. She reminded me of Aviléa.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
And why was I born light? If I were dark, it wouldn't hurt so much. Dark people are generally like centers of endurance.
The Baron sat down next to me and cautiously peered under my hood. He glanced at my face with concern and said:
- Everything is fine?
I clenched my fingers into fists and, catching my breath, answered:
- Yes. It's just that some memories have returned. And it would have been better if I had remained unconscious. Although now a lot of things become clear.
"And what then?" the baron asked curiously.
Standing on my feet, I said:
"My magical gift is very great. Much greater than I remember. Now there's at least some explanation for it..."
At least it's clear why I have so much Life mana.
It's just that the magical gift of the 'eternals' grows with age, and the increase is significant. And if more than two millennia have passed since Aviléa's death, then it should be clear why I have such a huge amount of mana.
However, where I got the other Powers and Elements from is still an open question. After all, if something isn't in a magical gift, it can't just appear there. Something clearly happened where I was for the last two millennia.
- Maybe you should rest? - the half-breed is clearly worried about me.
"No." I took a deep breath and looked up at the morning sky. It was just as blue as it had been back then... Looking down at the half-breed, I said, "Well, I don't think they'll be looking for me openly."
- And you still haven't remembered your name?
I shake my head slightly in response:
- No. Besides, for me, the death of Princess Aviléa seems like yesterday. I don't remember a single day of these two millennia.
The Baron thought.
And how puzzled I was.
Maybe they were experimenting on me? Or maybe I escaped from the prison where I was being held in connection with Aviléa's murder? Could I have killed her at all? Or was I involved? But then I would have been executed. Although, with a certain amount of influence, death could have been replaced with a long prison sentence. A very long one.
I said:
"Unfortunately, Baron, I must go into the forest. Your soldiers must see this to avoid trouble with the Great Forest. Perhaps I will arrive in your city much later..." I looked at my beautiful gauntlets and added, "...and not in such conspicuous armor."
He nodded:
- I understand and I will hope to see you in the very near future - in the coming war I will need any help.
Nodding thoughtfully, I turned and walked over to my horses. Taking my horse by the bridle, I walked straight into the forest. The undergrowth parted as I walked, letting me pass unhindered.
Having left the camp, I turned around and slowly walked along the road, looking for a place to have a snack and take care of the horses.
Of course, I could have done all this in the camp, but that way even fewer people would have seen me.
And here's a suitable spot. After slightly shading the forest undergrowth so that I and the horses couldn't be seen from the road, I turned my attention to the horses.
In general, caring for animals is easy for a mage with strong Life magic. I can easily cure parasites. Illnesses are also a breeze. In practice, this means I can make their fur shine with strength and health, and treat teeth, ticks, and poisoning. In critical cases, it's finally possible to completely nourish horses with magic alone without any side effects. Of course, it's best not to do the latter for too long: horses can mutate under the influence of magic, and only a small portion of the changes will be beneficial.
Fortunately, this breed of horse was not picky about food, and when I removed the load and saddles from them, they immediately began to happily pick leaves from the lower branches.
Having taken out the food, I sat down on a root protruding high from the ground and began to eat the ham, washing it down with crackers.
In fact, the common belief that light elves eat only nuts, berries, and grass is fundamentally wrong. Yes, our cuisine includes many different dishes made almost entirely from plant-based ingredients, but we also consume large quantities of eggs, honey, and milk (and milk derivatives) from various ungulates. And, of course, meat.
Besides all this, we also make bread, but the flour for it isn't made from wheat, but from completely different sources. For example, acorns and nuts.
Also, at the time I recall, the elves encountered human wheat and conducted the first experimental crops. I wonder how things are now? The reviews back then were more than positive. Even conservatives acknowledged that this new crop was extremely interesting for our civilization.
By the way, it was because of the opportunity to learn something new that people were not destroyed when they arrived in this world.
And finally. If we ate grass, then why do we consider deer hunting one of our pastimes? And the bow used isn't a real one, but a short one, difficult to shoot an arrow from even fifty meters. Accuracy at that distance is out of the question. The whole point is to get as close to the deer as possible. Getting within two meters of the animal and putting an arrow in its eye is considered a special skill. Naturally, there are teams of judges following the competitors, who deliver the verdict. Of course, much in these competitions depends on luck, but as the saying goes, "One is luck, two is skill."
I long for the old days. The ones before the Twilight War. We were a peaceful people. Well, relatively peaceful, of course. Before the Twilight War, conflicts with the dark ones were fairly limited. You could even say borderline...
And then the Lady, having fallen under the influence of one of the Princes, decided to press a little harder. And so it began. The Dark Ones, naturally, dug in their heels. More and more forces began joining the war. Then it came to the Allies.
The war turned many of us into terrifying, bloody monsters, feared even by the dark ones. And I was one of them. This is not bragging. It is a sad statement of fact. I am not proud of what the war has forged me into. I have committed terrible deeds. Some shouted the lofty word 'feat'. I, however, bitterly whispered the word 'shame'. Then... Then I stopped caring. I even began to hope that I would die in yet another extremely brutal battle. I wanted death. And, wanting it, I threw myself into the very heat. But Atesh did not take me; she perched on my shoulders and made me her warhorse. Laughing terribly, she sowed and sowed the seeds of death from my shoulders, not caring where they fell - at my enemies or... my friends.
Too many died during those years. The death of Aviléa was the final straw.
Maybe go hunting? Remember the old days?
Whatever happens later. I'd better look for a longbow blank now. I'll have to buy the bowstring in town: if there are elves there, they'll probably sell such things. At least for their own.
I got up, tidied up, and ran around the area, stopping next to a tall, young tree. Hmm. That'll do.
Closing my eyes, I placed my palms on the trunk and infused the tree with some Life Mana. The tree sensed my request, and a new branch began to grow at the level of my face. There were no leaves or bark on it, just bare, tender wood. I presented a clear request to the tree for shape and volume, and it obediently began to bend it.
This won't harm the tree: in fact, the Life mana will even completely remove its internal flaws and heal it. Although, of course, it's best not to grow more than a dozen pieces from this tree per year—it could die from such abuse.
That's it. The blank fell off the trunk right into my outstretched hands.
I took a close look at my bow base.
Well, considering this is my first bow in two thousand years, it's simply 'excellent.' But seriously, it's probably a little higher than 'good.' Although, I must say, I just played it safe, and I'll have to remove too much wood in unnecessary places. That's why the rating has been lowered. Hmm. Yeah. I could even make a decent archer's ring out of this extra bit...
*****
- Hmm... - the baron shook his head once again: - This is simply something. Where did he come from?
Haalen pulled a large, folded piece of wrinkled leather from his bosom and, squatting, spread it across his knee. It turned out to be an artfully hand-drawn map. He pointed to a spot on it and said:
"This is the road. We're roughly here." He moved his finger further and pointed to the line. "Three days from here is where the Great Forest begins. It's uninhabited, and patrols rarely appear here. Father says this part of the territory is practically deserted..."
"Yes, I know. Otherwise, our hunters would have a hard time – they sometimes go beyond the border," Tur nodded, leaning over the map.
"Do you know why this is so?" the half-breed turned to him.
- Well... - the baron straightened up and stroked his short blond beard: - I think I heard that there are some ancient ruins there...
"Father said that this entire area..." the half-breed described a large, irregular oval outside the map, "...is both a sacred and cursed place. It was there, almost five hundred thousand years ago, that the light elven gods fought the demons. The stakes in the battle were this world and the remnants of the Eternal People. They won, but the price was high—of the ten gods, only three survived: the Goddess of Happiness, Alliran, her brother, the God of the Path, Ertan, and the Goddess of Life, Illue. The gods themselves guard this place. If any elves want to speak with a god, they simply come here."
- Hmm... - the baron thought for a moment and asked: - I don't know much about elven legends and gods... I have a question: why is this place both cursed and sacred?
Haalen shrugged.
"The gods say the essences of fallen gods and monsters still wander there. There's a valley there where the autumn mist takes the form of combatants. Moreover, legends say that, despite their ghostly appearance, those who died in that battle can still kill. Besides all this, somewhere around here grows the Silluri tree, which belongs... um... or rather 'belonged'... to the ruling dynasty of the light elves.
- Silluri? You mean?
The half-breed nodded:
- Yes. It was there, among its roots, that all the members of the Ruling House of Autwy found their final resting place.
- Phew, - the knight shook his head again: - And you think that our stranger came from there?
Haalen threw it silently.
Standing up, he rolled up the map and said:
"Esvi and I will go and keep an eye on him. It's not right to let a highborn wander around these woods and the city alone—we'll be in trouble. And judging by what happened, we might have to dump the bodies in the ditch. So, if you don't need us anymore..."
The tour glanced sideways at the forest thicket:
- I don't want to upset you, but he's already left, and you recently said that his trail was hidden by the forest.
"Then he was alone, but now he has two horses with him, loaded. And he wasn't planning on going far. He clearly wants to let us pass and follow our trail into town." He shrugged and waved to the other half-breed. "Esvi! Get ready!"
*****
According to tradition, the blank would then be processed with specialized woodcutting tools. Naturally, I didn't have any, so I resorted to working on the blank using magic. This is quite expensive in terms of mana. Because of this, few members of the Eternal race make this weapon using this method. Besides, those elves who can craft a bow this way have enough influence or money to avoid the hassle of handcrafting and simply buy one from a recognized artisan. However, this doesn't apply to me at the moment. And I don't even have to count the mana right now.
Taking off my gloves, I looked at the white metal signet ring with a sigh and, beginning to release mana through my fingertips, began to smooth the workpiece, removing the excess
Things were going quickly: the wood flowed like wax beneath my fingers, instantly locking into place. Having achieved the basic shape, I stood up and, bracing one end of the piece against the ground, leaned my entire weight on it, bending it.
Well done. It turned out great. I'll finish it when I have a bowstring. I could actually braid it myself from my own hair, but that's a real pain. Better to buy it, even if the seller asks for a hundred gold pieces.
Setting the blank aside, I removed the sack of trophy items from the horse and pulled out two cloaks. The blood on them was dried and didn't look very good. Even though I'd chosen the cleanest ones, there were a couple of fairly large stains on each. Many people would immediately recognize this as a sign of what they were.
Okay. I hope they won't look too closely and won't pester me with questions.
Spreading one cloak on the ground, I began to remove and carefully arrange the pieces of my armor and the decorated, empty scabbard on it. The gloves I had removed earlier were also placed here.
The only clothing I had left was a special underarmor made of thin reindeer hide, tanned with magic and special concoctions. And how had it remained unchanged for two thousand years? That's quite a question. Besides this, I had no other clothes—our people managed perfectly well without underwear, both in everyday life and in war.
I'll have to go in this...
I took off my elven-crafted cloak and turned it over in my hands, examining it from all sides for emblems and embossing. Finding nothing special, other than the faint gold embroidery on the inside, I put it back on.
My weapons included a pair of captured swords, a hunting bow with a full quiver of arrows, and three daggers. I selected the finest of the latter and clipped the scabbard to my belt. It was a shame the stilettos remained in the removed bracers of my armor, as there was no point in taking them out. I clipped the swords to my left and right: I had been trained as a versatile swordsman and my successes were celebrated. War had hardened and honed my skills, demonstrating that I had virtually no weaknesses and that I could achieve decisive victories even in battles with the Dark Ones. I strapped the bow and quiver of arrows to the saddle of my packhorse.
Seems like that's it? But still no sign of the caravan...
Then I remembered that my leg had been bandaged for over a day. The healing spell had healed the wound, but it would be better to remove the improvised bandage and throw it away.
And just as I sat back down on the root, I sensed strangers moving through the forest in my direction. Two half-breeds with horses tethered, following my trail.
I wonder what they want?
In principle, I could get up now and, using a couple of magical tricks, disappear into the forest so completely that they, despite having some of our blood, could pass three steps away and not notice. Even if I were with the horses.
But I still kind of decided to settle in with the baron and support him during the looming conflict. So... Let them go.
If they want to attack... Yes, I have no armor, but even naked I can handle them.
Finally, they became visible among the trees. I stood up, turned to face them, and waited for them to approach.
They turned out to be the two half-breed archers who had been in the baron's squad, leading their steeds by the bridle.
When they came within five steps, one of them turned to me:
"Highborne, we have decided to accompany you." He bowed and said, "My name is Haalen."
The second half-breed also bowed after this:
- My name is Esvi.
I thought for a moment. I could refuse, of course, but why? They don't evoke any denial or disgust in me. Besides, I'm not alone. And they should know the way to the city, which means I won't have to drag along behind the caravan.
I shrug:
- Okay. But I don't remember my name.
The half-breed exchanged glances with his comrade and said:
- You can't live without a name. What if the memory never returns? Maybe you can think of something?
- Well-l-l... - I was puzzled: - Okay.
The half-breed looked around, clearly noticing that this place was protected from casual glances from the road, and asked:
- You are going to the city, aren't you?
I nodded:
- Yes. I'll just finish preparing and pack my things.
"We can help..." Haalen said a little hesitantly.
I shrug again:
"No need - there are only small things left here," I replied and sat back down on the root.
The half-breeds nodded and also began to look around, looking for a place to settle down.
I pulled off my right boot. It turned out that blood had soaked through my thin underarmor and had dried, clinging to my leg. I had to dig out a flask of moonshine. Casting a desalination spell on it, I got clean, fresh water, which I poured over my leg. Having somehow unraveled the bandage, I mercilessly threw away the makeshift bandage and the blood-caked handkerchiefs. There was no wound underneath—the healing spell had completely healed it, leaving not even a scar. After washing the blood off my leg, I quickly washed and wrung out my pant leg.
Meanwhile, the half-breeds had settled down on an old fallen tree covered in green moss and combined a light snack with surveillance of my actions.
Sighing, I pulled on my boot and began gathering up the items I'd laid out, securing them back onto the horses' backs. Lastly, I rolled the trophy cloak and my armor into a sort of large sack and tied it with a cut-off narrow cloth ribbon. Looking critically at the resulting sack, I thought there might be thieves in the city who could cut the cloth. So, deciding not to be stingy, I pulled out a second cloak and did the same with it. Sure, two layers of cloak cloth aren't much protection, but a single dagger strike wouldn't cut them open...
The last bit of trifle. Money and jewelry. Having uncovered my treasure, I selected thirty silver coins and the same number of copper ones. I don't know what prices are like in the city, but in any case, it's not a good idea to flash a sack of coins in public. Gold has always been valuable. And it wasn't just people who killed in droves for a few gold coins.
I put the money in the inside pocket of my cloak. Then I remember I have ten gold coins in my other pocket, obviously from that time. Comparing them with human ones, I note numerous differences. Most importantly, the alloy composition. The elves clearly mixed white metals into the gold, while humans mixed copper or something else. I'll also need to find out whether they're in use or not. In principle, if you think about it, elven money shouldn't have changed significantly over the past two thousand years. And considering I'm planning to buy from my own people, they'll definitely be gone. It's still unclear which gold is more valuable—elven or human. I stuffed the rest of the money into my backpack, slung it over my back, and turned to the half-breeds, who had also risen.
- I'm ready.