Chapter 8: Nulara

Nulara stood in the crowd of elves and watched as Dombard in king Aelarnal’s body strutted from side to side. Some brave elves decided to conjure a magical cage, hoping that they could at least temporarily hold the ghost without harming the king. But Dobmard had already left the king’s body twice and had already penetrated through the magical bars and destroyed the cages and once again moved into the devastated Aelarnal.

Suddenly Valdiramir approached Nulara.

“We must leave the city,” Valdiramir said. “My mother has already gone north along the river to Talashgeflerwall. You’re not going to stay here, are you?”

“No.”

“Then, let’s go,” with these words he ducked behind the column. Nulara followed him and they were able to slip away unnoticed. Running along the empty streets of the city, the travellers moved to the Arikayrnira river. Silenta threw her last rays at the elven capital. Some screams came from the square, but Nulara didn’t even want to imagine what was happening there. Small elven boats were tied up next to the floating houses of the forest elves.

They jumped into an empty boat, untied it from the dock, quickly sat down and both began rowing. Silenta fell over the horizon, and clouds from the west began to cover the sky. The fugitives rowed slowly. The river was not very wide, both banks were clearly visible. Even though the direction of the river flow was exactly toward the elven capital, and Nulara and Valdiramir had to row, overcoming it, the current was not very active, and the two of them managed quite well.

They rowed half the night, and finally got tired, and decided to spend the night on the shore. The half-elf could to conjure and create scones and water; they ate and slept for a while. Soon before dawn, they were sitting on the sand, fearing to make a fire. The air was cool, but not cold.

“What kind of creature was that?” Nulara asked.

“Are you talking about a ghost?”

Nulara nodded, but in the predawn twilight her nod was barely noticeable.

“There are several legends about ghosts and the Belt of Twilight, which, like you know it was called the Wall of Ghosts…”

“I didn’t know.” Nulara put in.

“According to one legend,” the half-elf ignored her remark, “the ancient ghosts protected dragons from outside encroachments.”

“That’s why no one ever came back because ghosts and dragons killed everyone–”

“Nulara, you’re jumping to conclusions.”

“All right, I’m silent,” Nulara interrupted him again, taking the hint.

Valdiramir paused.

“According to one legend–” he started his sentence again.

“Shh, someone’s coming”

Suddenly, a senior isters and a dwarf came out in front of them.

“My name is Jamashar Mantillish, good travellers,” isters introduced himself, “and this is my old friend–”

“Yes, I’m older than you, but I’m a young friend, not an old one,” the dwarf interrupted him, “and my name is Ishkmet Duegart. We had a problem; we got stuck on the road with a wagon. It’s all because of the old man! This old man,” he pointed to Jamashar, and just at that moment Silenta began to rise from the horizon, the clouds finally disappeared, and the rays of the light illuminated the travellers, “because of his habit of focusing on the movement of the stars, completely forgot that for the last twenty years, we have only one star, and its trajectory has changed! We were on our way to Jöhnstromken from Skarzborrush–”

“You made such a detour, seriously?” Nulara interrupted him. “Instead of going almost strictly north, you went northeast, then further east?”

“Yes, that’s right!” Jamashar agreed.

“You take us for idiots,” Nulara did not stop, “if you want to rob us, just say so,” she took up a fighting stance, drawing her two short swords.

Valdiramir shook his head, looking at Nulara.

“Look at them,” he said, “they’re just lost travellers.”

“Yes, exactly,” Jamashar supported. And the wallitarf pulled out his double-edged axe and narrowed his eyes at Nulara.

“Will you have enough speed, dwarf?” Nulara asked.

“We don’t want to hurt anyone,” Jamashar said, “we didn’t know that hospitality in Eileenelia is just a myth or a fairy tale for the naive desert dwellers, we’re already leaving,” with these words he patted the dwarf on the shoulder and they started backing away without turning their backs.

“Wait!” Valdiramir stopped them. “We’ll help you; we’ll see what’s happened with your wagon.”

Nulara looked at him contemptuously and then sheathed her swords.

“Stupid altruist!” She snapped at the half-elf. Valdiramir pretended he didn’t hear that.

Ishkmet held his axe in his hand, and all four of them headed to the place where the wagon got stuck between two stones next to the road, even that the powerful wallitarf could not move it.

“What are you carrying?” the half-elf asked when they reached the wagon.

“We just transport old books to the great library of Jöhnstromken,” the old man replied.

Nulara laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Ishkmet asked.

“Your great army with your king was defeated by dragons, the lands were scorched, an unthinkable number of deaths...” She suddenly got tears in her eyes, because she remembered her father, relatives and the girl Lala, but she restrained herself.” In Kaushmanashtoon there is no king, no army, no conditions for survival, not to mention prosperity, and you are transporting some old books! Unthinkable stupidity!”

“She is insulting us Jamashar,” Ishkmet was getting angry.

“So they say,” said Jamashar directly to Nulara, “that there are fewer scorched lands in Norvinoria, so we decided that the main library of Ermir might have survived, and thought we’d take some of the important works there…”

“What a delight,” the half-elf interrupted him, looking at the books and seeing one interesting volume. “These are the life stories of Algadral Stonets! And in the ancient snunorf language, although the Algadral himself was–”

“Tonnebeard!” Jamashar was inspired. “And, you, dear el-el, by any chance do not know the ancient snunorf language?” he asked hopefully.

“Unfortunately, no, and you shouldn’t treat me like that, because I’m a half-blood and not from the arqilun nobility.”

“What?” Nulara put in. “And I thought that you are some powerful fellow in the arqilunian society because of your manners, behavior, and because of your mother one of the Eichengoths!”

Valdiramir smiled.

“Although my mother is from the larmarian nobility, my father was a simple architect, and his father was a soldier who never received an officer’s rank in two hundred years of service,” he paused and took the book in his hands. “But although I don’t know the ancient snunorf language, I know the ancient larmarian language, and they’re close. I can try to translate it.”

“Yes, yes, that would be wonderful!” Jamashar cheered.

“Only we can’t give the book away,” Ishkmet intervened, turning to Jamashar, “and we can’t take them with us!”

“Why not?” the old man was surprised.

“Well, well, stop!” Nulara turned to Valdiramir. “Let’s free the wheel, and then let’s go about our business, and they’ll go to their library, all right?”

“I think we can go with them to Talashgeflerwall, they’re just on their way with us, and then they’ll go their own way. Nulara, look at them carefully, at these two ermirians with a wagon of books, you think they will cut our throats while we sleep to take a pair of your swords and daggers?”

“You don’t know what the ermirians are capable of!” Nulara burst out and walked away from the group. But she knew that she didn’t want to travel alone anymore, at least not yet...

She wandered for about half an hour when Valdiramir caught up with her on a karkhash.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, Nulara,” the half-elf said.

“It’s all right.”

“I freed the wheel, I had to unharness the karkhash, and put the rope on a giant stone, and then try to drive the unfortunate animal.”

“Don’t the forest elves know any spells for such a thing?”

“One that wouldn’t damage the wheel, the books, the carriage, and the old man and the dwarf?” the half-elf laughed. “Come on, let’s go, they’re really not dangerous.”

Nulara trusted him and sat on the karkhash, and they headed to the wagon.