Prologue. The fateful night

The lands where everything happened were lost among high mountains and dense forests, between swift rivers and boundless seas, in the bosom of fertile and rich land bordering the wasteland, merciless to all living things.

Previously, everything was different, but now humans have settled on the continent's most fertile edges, naming their kingdom Meriel. This is their heyday and era.

Other races and creatures have long left this kingdom's borders and haven't been seen in a long time; it was enough to stop thinking about the past.

Even though many of them were forgotten, some of them were only mentioned in legends and fairy tales, and others only in night horror stories told by weak candlelight while wrapped in a blanket.

Humans have erased the memories. They forgot that Meriel belonged to all races before, and also a lot of other things.

But now something has started. Some residents of Meriel did not understand this, while others tried to close their eyes and ignore all the strange things happening around them. But both of them will inevitably face these changes. It's happened before.

The gates to this land are still open, and whoever once left Meriel, forcibly or voluntarily, will be able to return one day... or maybe take what they consider rightfully theirs. And it seems that this day has come.

Our story happened on an ordinary spring evening. Dusk has fallen on one of the cities of the north, named Alsveg. Darkness crept out of hiding places, slowly absorbing everything around it.

On the roof, holding onto a flagpole, stood a slender girl dressed in a dark cloak with a hood pulled over her face; icy gray eyes stared out from under it, and the lowest part of her face was hidden by a mask.

Her indifferent gaze slid over the castle, the towers of which went up. The torchlights flickered on the fortress walls. Her gaze moved from one light to another. The wind ruffled the skirts of her dark clothes. Against the background of the darkening skies, her lonely and fragile figure seemed almost invisible. She waited.

"Everything will be done, Sansara," the girl said to herself.

It was getting colder. For this reason, a chill ran down her arms and back. An unpleasant feeling! It's not fear, because they should be afraid of her. Some believe that she belongs to a race that did not set foot on these lands at all, but hides her origins under a mask. Or as if she was cursed.

It scares them. Her disguise alone instills fear in them. They freeze, trembling, when they see her, praying to anyone and anything so that her figure does not appear like a silent ghost at the head of their bed on one of the darkest and wettest nights before quiet horror becomes the last thing they will feel in this world.

She was an assassin and a mercenary. Or first, a mercenary, and then an assassin, or maybe all at once, because one did not exclude the other. Her name was Sansara. It's a nickname, but she began to use it too often, quite a long time ago, so that it would not stick to her as a brand, a mark, a yoke, a vocation, a duty, and fate. So others began to call her Sansara. And she became the Messenger of the Wheel, stepping on the path that was destined for her.

This name became a part of her quickly because (before that) she didn't have it at all. She had no name. It may seem ridiculous and wild, but what is to expect from the one who raised her? Thanks even for that.

For Fides, you are just a watchdog, which is called the 'Dog,' or a cat, which is called the 'Cat.' And they respond because they know nothing else.

So Sansara was called the Girl, for a long time, not suspecting that it was not a name at all.

Just like the Boy, she has a brother. Not native by blood, although who knows? But native in spirit. Everyone has a family. Even a person like her.

Until Sansara chose a name for herself that neither of the two mothers would have given her (her own, who left the child, and her foster mother, who did not care about such trifles as naming her children). So before it, she lived as nobody, a shadow, a likeness, an empty space.

She first heard her new name from southerners when she was in Zun. It meant the cycle of birth and death. The Wheel of Fate. What she believed in and what she did. She took another life so that another one could continue, and maybe her own.

The circle, which has been in motion for eternity, will never stop, only if the whole world falls. You have no power to reverse his path; he can both grind you and deliver you to a place where you will know the joy of life and bliss. Into the future that you created for yourself.

It was only necessary to heed the voice of the Wheel, in which everyone hears only a clang and noise. Or maybe they are afraid of it, interpreting it as a sign of strife and bloodshed. But no story is made without it.

She does not look like a southerner; her skin is too white. But she didn't look like a northerner, either. Without a family or tribe, she was thrown to the mercy of the wild creatures that raised her. Isn't this a sign that she has been chosen for this mission? An important task, for which fate itself was preparing her.

Previously, she often went with the flow, trying to find her place, but soon she wanted to decide for herself and choose her path. Moreover, you may not find your place, and any mistake can cost her life. Her work is risky.

So why not start doing it? It is worth at least changing your name, and your fate will be changed. Maybe this will give her a chance when things don't work out in her favor. One day, the Girl turned into Sansara.

This transformation was not given immediately and was not easy, but she coped. Isn't that what her teacher was trying to achieve? Her daughter should be wild and dangerous, but also strong and independent.

Could her mother have foreseen this? Is that her plan? Do not give your children names, which would allow you to decide who they are. If such a case presents itself, then you need to ask her about it...

It got even darker. The moon disappeared behind a huge cloud. A little time passed, and a red spark flashed in the darkness, which immediately melted into the night sky, leaving behind a barely noticeable thin trickle of smoke.

That's the signal! In the distance, she noticed some movement; then she heard a noise. Torches and those who held them rushed there, to the gate. This is a distraction that allows her to get down to business without too much attention. She wasn't acting alone.

Now it's her turn. The girl took a few steps to the edge of the roof and slid off it like a snake. With amazing agility, Sansara landed on the next house, located just below.

"The main thing is to do everything quickly!" she thought, approaching the walls of the palace. It was getting closer. The girl moved across the roofs, jumping from one building to another.

The act she was committing was treacherous and audacious. Even riskier than anything she's done up until now. She could turn the tide of history.

A gloomy satisfaction arose in her nature at the very thought of this. You are part of a great phenomenon. And it is she who will play an important role so that ninnies stare at her again in the alleys. And them not even realizing that someone like her gave them peace, protecting them from those who came to take everything from you. To deprive you of Meriel and the tedious, peaceful way of life.

"Don't thank me."

Sansara may one day take away the most precious thing from you. If they pay for it, of course. In the meantime, be afraid and pray. That's all they can do.

Sansara reached the last house, which was almost right next to the rampart, and took a hook from her belt with a rope tied to it. One swing and its teeth got stuck in the wooden crossbar opposite. This is good because it means northerners are still building things out of wood, and not out of stone, as in the West.

The girl wrapped the other end around the chimney. Drawing her thin blades, she stepped over the dark abyss. Balancing, she quickly walked along the rope, trying not to think about how she would have to get out. It only distracts and hinders.

Sansara jumped down on the parapet, slipped between the wall's teeth, and found herself in the gallery of the battle course. After that, like a shadow, slightly crouching, at the level of the loopholes, she slid to where the wall reached the palace.

A guard got in her way. The girl crept up behind him, and he didn't even have time to shout. The blades flashed, then converged, leaving a deep cut on the soldier's neck. The cold body fell at Sansara's feet; blood from the wound spilled onto the floor. She carefully walked around the fallen guard and moved on. Scarlet dew dripped from her swords. Remorse and pity had long since left her thoughts. She couldn't even remember her feelings when she took someone else's life for the very first time. Hatred, fright, regret...

She wasn't experiencing anything right now. It's too empty inside her. Only a sense of danger reminded her of life when her chest was bursting with heavy breathing, and her heart galloped when everything worked out.

"I have to protect myself," she reasoned, continuing on her way and only glancing at the soldier, who was unlucky to be here because he stayed at his post without following where the fight broke out. "If he were in my place, he would certainly do the same."

But still, Sansara regretted killing the guardian. But the reason for this pity is very simple: soon the body will be discovered, and they will start looking for the killer, having guessed that the attack on the gate was not the only incident waiting for the castle that night. That means she has even less time left.

She knew the way, but something could always go wrong. Before going on this case, she had to thoroughly study the map of the castle and the surrounding area, even taking a walk here and there. But the anxiety didn't go away. There was no getting away from it.

Through dark passages, moving silently and stealthily, Sansara finally reached its most majestic tower. She didn't meet anyone else.

The fight going on at the other end continued. But no one noticed her.

With her slender fingers, the girl touched the double-leaf door, slightly opened it, then silently slipped inside.

She found herself in a round hall with a high ceiling. The faint candlelight lay in trembling highlights on the floor and walls. A girl dressed in white robes was kneeling in front of the altar. Her golden curls fell to her shoulders. Did she pray? The same as everyone else. Pathetic!

Sansara's breathing became noisy and rapid. A mad fire broke out in her cold eyes. She felt heat on her cheeks and forehead. Here she is! It's her goal! It would have been possible to sneak up on her, flashing steel, and be done, but killing her was not part of the task. The girl needs to be alive. Too valuable a trophy for the tsarina.

"Good evening, princess!" Sansara spoke loudly and mockingly, attracting her attention.

The girl shuddered, stood up quickly, drew a long sword with a curved blade from its scabbard, and proudly straightened her shoulders, meeting the assassin face to face.

"Why did you come?" she asked, looking into her eyes. Her voice trembled slightly, but she looked even more determined than before. "We have fulfilled our part of the agreement."

"Agreements?" the mercenary hissed, smiling. "Do you think she will negotiate with such... With a person like you?"

"And that's why she sent you?"

"Yes, and you'll have to come with me."

"You can't take me alive!" the golden-haired girl exclaimed.

"Oh, those big words. You'd better be a smart girl!" Sansara dashed, swinging her blades, and in an instant, she was next to her. She wanted to scare her, puzzle her, and at the same time test her in battle. Maybe she will demonstrate her power? It's all because of it!

Sansara prepared to strike, but the girl deftly repelled the furious attack, and then she rushed at the enemy. This is not their first meeting, but their first fight.

Sansara did not expect such a thing. She assumed that the princess would call for help, beg, or carry on with high-flown noble nonsense. But she fought. Besides, very skillfully.

Their blades converged, showering the floor with sparks, and diverged, whizzing through the air. Two girls were spinning in a wild dance. The clash of swords echoed through the empty hall.

But no ownership revealed itself. Many would have called it magic, but Sansara knew that only the ignorant call power that. She was taught those words of the Old World that are forgotten by almost everyone. Sansara's opponent was nimble, resourceful, and capable in battle, but she was not going to resort to force.

What's the matter? Did she consider Sansara unworthy to witness this miracle? Or was she still unable to cope with it? If the second is true, then why does Fides need her?

The princess made a swift lunge, and, knocking out one of the blades of the mercenary, rushed to the door, but she quickly recovered, rushed after her, and blocked her way to retreat. She didn't have time to pick up her sword. Otherwise, her target would have gotten out. The weapon spun for some time, ringing, trembling, and slipping further away from its owner on the smooth floor.

"We're not done yet!" Sansara exclaimed, twirling her remaining sword. The battle flared up again with renewed vigor, but the heavy doors abruptly opened. Two knights in armor rushed into the hall. A dozen guards followed behind them with long spears. Sansara's accomplices detained them for a short time, but it wasn't enough to grab the girl and take her away from there.

One of the knights is armed with an ax. His skin was blue, and his hair was like snow. Sansara even howled with despair and anger. Oh, no! It's the nudar! This race lived on the continent, but you could not meet them very often, except in the north. And this is it. What is surprising and unexpected? She even hissed in annoyance.

Of course, the nudars conspired with the elvins; it's stupid to expect anything else from them. They are, after all, fraternal races. And the complete return of their kind to northern Meriel, in the case of such an alliance, is only a matter of a short time. Their lands beyond the seas are too harsh for life and poor in supplies, so they wait for the right moment to open their jaws for a tasty morsel right in front of their blue faces.

More than anything else in the world, Sansara feared and hated them. She didn't want to deal with them. The nudars were not as powerful as the extinct elves, but they were much stronger than any of the humms, elvins, and, of course, redrins; they surpassed everyone with their ability to fight. A one-on-one battle with one of them could have ended badly for you, and then Sansara found herself in a completely shoddy position. She was squeezed into a circle and pushed further away from the exit.

The girl was distracted, mentally rushing around trying to come up with a new plan, and the princess, without wasting time, rushed to the warriors who appeared. They surrounded her with a living wall, protecting her from the mercenary.

The second one who arrived was a human (like Sansara), probably the captain. The soldiers obeyed his commands. He was clutching a heavy sword in his hand.

"Take the princess!" the nudar shouted at him. "Come on, go away!"

The golden-haired girl looked at the nudar and disappeared into the darkness together with the captain.

"Rot!" Sansara swore. "I can't handle them!"

"Surrender, criminal!" The clear and even voice of the nudarian warrior with an ax rang out. "And then you will live."

Sansara froze, lowering her sword. Her hands and clothes are stained with blood, and her breath is coming out of her chest. She gave him a contemptuous look and coldly replied:

"Thank you, Who-are-you-there, but I think I'll refuse!"

"Then defend yourself!" the nudar waved his weapon, approaching Sansara. "And die with honor!"

Do not compare it with the battle that just happened! With the princess, all in full force. The nudar was going to kill her. His soldiers stood motionless, forming a circle and watching the progress of the battle.

Oh, this is a matter of honor and other chivalrous nonsense! But if she wins, it means they won't touch her. For the time being, but... this way she will earn the right to leave. To deal with some, search for one, faithful to the knight's code, sometimes on hand, with the unclean, because according to the rules of Sansara, he was not going to play.

She's not alone. She just needs to buy time. Even if these fools began to break into the gate and overcome it, Forti would not leave her. And when this nudar and his retinue are finished, there is still a chance to catch up with the princess.

Sansara was beginning to run out of strength but continued the battle with the warrior. He is now relaxed, confident in his absolute and imminent victory. He was twirling his ax, shifting the handle from palm to palm. Furthermore, he looked too self-confident. Knocking down the arrogance of such bastards is the most pleasant thing. Sansara could not wait for this smile to leave the blue and smug muzzle.

Suddenly, the whole tower shook like a bell. It was as if she had been hit by a huge hammer. The heavy oak doors flew off their hinges, burying the soldiers under them. Fragments of the walls were scattered in different directions.

A huge man appeared in the doorway, dressed in furs and skins, twice as tall and wider than any person. His rough, tanned skin, streaked with numerous scars, looked like tree bark, and here and there were tattoos. One eye was covered by a blindfold made of black cloth. A single greenish eye darted wildly from side to side. A real cyclops! There is nothing to say! No one could think, and the Boy turned into such a monster.

With a wild roar, the giant kicked the guard who tried to attack him. He flew off a few meters, and crashed into the wall, breaking his spine, which was notified by the corresponding crunch.

The bully, stomping heavily on the doors, moved inside. When he stepped on the boards, groans and screams came from under them. Someone was very unlucky!

Without waiting for him to be attacked, the one-eyed man brought down his fist and clubbed three more confused soldiers.

The nudar glanced at the bully, scattering his warriors in different directions. That's enough! Sansara sharply struck him in the side, in a vulnerable place between the armor shells.

His surprised gaze slid over her face, and her mouth opened in bewilderment. Then a mysterious haze began to cover nudar's eyes. Sansara pushed the defeated enemy away, removing the sword from his body.

The man who came to her rescue finished off the last warriors trying to crawl away, and, stepping on the dead bodies, approached the girl.

"Fortian, you're on time!" Sansara shouted, rushing into the arms of the one-eyed bully. She came up with this name for him. And it suited such a strong man.

"Are you okay?" he rumbled, gently pressing Sansara with his huge palm.

"Yes, but we failed," the girl said with annoyance. "The target has escaped!"

"Maybe all is not lost yet," her brother reassured her. "We can still catch up to them."

Footsteps were heard. Another figure appeared in the dark doorway. Fortian and Sansara turned their heads.

"Leave immediately if you want to stay alive!" they heard an excited female voice. A girl in black clothes and a shining helmet decorated with white feathers came out to them. Her bluish skin and silvery hair shone in the darkness. She is an informant of Tsarina Fides and informed her about the princess' presence in Alsveg. There was discord among the nudars, and the power struggle was not alien to them. A little treachery and conspiracy, something like this.

"What about the princess?" Sansara frowned. It seems that the plans of the tsarina were changing, and they did not know about it. Is this the idea of Fides from the very beginning? And she entrusted everything to her, the blue-faced girl? What if they had captured the princess? What then?

"It's not your concern."

"Is that so?"

"Everything is already done. Nothing more is required, and you need to go back if you don't want to be held accountable for all this..." said the nudarian woman. "And this is the order of the tsarina".

"I see," Sansara said, picking up her sword.

"Did you kill him?" the nudarian woman asked, glancing at the defeated tribesman.

"I don't think so," she said. "He was, however, seriously injured. Maybe he'll get better."

"Go away."

Without saying a word, Sansara jumped onto Fortian's shoulders, and they left the tower.

The woman walked around the hall, looking at the mutilated bodies. Everything is covered in blood. A soft moan reached her. She turned around, the nudar lying in the middle of the hall. He's still alive.

"Nesmerta..." just as her name came out of his mouth.

"I'm here, Lyren," she said as she approached, rustling the hem of her clothes and kneeling next to the injured man.

"This is... a conspiracy..." the nudar said with difficulty, raising his head.

"I know," she said in a voice full of indifference, stroking his cheek and kissing his forehead. "There's nothing we can do. There's no point in fighting. It's too late. It will all end here."

"You're aware. You did it... You betrayed us..." the nudar croaked, pushing away the gentle hand.

"They will give us the whole north," the woman said, getting up and picking up the sword of one of the defeated soldiers. "Elvins can't stand it. You can't decide for all of us!"

"We swore an oath..."

"Have you sworn to doom your race to death? No, that's not going to happen!"

She raised her blade and cut his throat. A gurgling sound, the last gasp, and a wheeze hung in the air, and silence ensued, bordered by a crimson puddle that spread around Knyaz Lyren.

Knyaje Nesmerta came out of the ruined tower.

"What happened? Are you all right, my knyaje?" a nudarian soldier appeared next to her. He looked anxiously at the ruined doorway and the bloody footprints.

"Princess Livia has betrayed us," she whispered. "All these deaths are on her conscience. And now she's gone..."

"And where is the knyaz?"

"He's dead..."

"What are we going to do?" the nudar asked, confused. "You are now the Head of the White Sword, my knyaje... Send a search party?"

The gaze of Nesmerta slid across the dark courtyard. Both the princess and her retinue and the daughter of Tsarina Fides should already be outside the fortress. Redrins who attacked the gate were defeated. All this can be passed off as Livia's collusion with the beastmen. Any alliances are now appropriate, even between races that have been shedding each other's blood for centuries.

"Kill everyone who accompanies the princess. Whether it's an elvin, a humm, or even a nudar. And then leave her alone, allowing her to flee back to Guar Dann. Let everyone know that the elvins will never take Meriel! And we won't let that happen."

"It will be done!" the nudarian soldier stretched out and hurried to follow the instructions. The other nudars appeared, all of them fused, passing on the words of their knyaje.

It started snowing. Again. The bitter twilight was enveloped by the webs of deception and betrayal, the smell of blood and revenge. The fateful night has come, which should change everything.