A few years later peace still continues, but not for everyone.REPAIRS Agilrwar lifted his head; his eyes shinned with a fiery red glow. His head turned to the side, he sniffed the air. There was a new smell in the air, a smell that he didn't smell, ever since the castle became his. His eyes turned black with the iris blue, as ice. His face remained the same, cold and distant. He sniffed again. The smell disappeared. His eyes looked at the columns of the main hall. A miserable pile of rubble, it has been his six months, since he gave the order to repair the roof and every defect the castle had. Six months passed, and what they did, repaired a few parts, nothing and nothing less, just a few parts. The parts survived for two months, and with the first rains, the holes opened again. He moved to the other side. A drop of rain fell on his head; he stood up, walked down the wet red carpet. His face looked at every corner. The more he looked, th

O, great King Gilwar, who heard you tale? Who knows your true tale? Nobody of the living people, at least. Why is that so? Why are you forgotten? Not in a million years, you should be forgotten. But you are. It's time to change that. Our story begins with a hero destined to be king, if he defeats all the obstacles in his path. A path, that won't be easy. After many hard months and even harder obstacles, he is near his goal. Will he succeed? If the old stories are true… maybe… Gilwar turned; his face was filled with dread. How many more must he defeat, to achieve his goal? A goal, that seemed to be farther than ever before. Nothing, in this world, could defeat his iron will. He stopped, looked in front of him. Must he kill his own people to achieve his goal? A lonely woman walked towards him. Her eyes are black as night. Something was terribly wrong with her. She walked like a puppet. Gilwar moved a step back shocked. There was no way, that that woman could wa

I It was noon at the end of February, and the summer of 156. The snow in the mountains had already melted from the living sun's rays, the Naie flowed more strongly in its bed  because of the onslaught of mountain waters spilling across the plain below Nanporo.By the tall window sat a woman in the small room of the city, old but strong, wrapped in black. If it weren't for her blonde, gray hair combed on either side of her high forehead, if the long ends of her black cap hadn't curled around her yellowed face, a man would have said that a shaved male head was sitting there. Her face was large, her jaws strong, her nose long, curled over her mouth, her mouth wide, her lips pale and thin, her yellow eyebrows thick and reduced, and below them stared at the world up to two riddles, up to two pale blue, small gloomy eyes, from which you tried in vain to foretell what feelings are in that heart, what thoughts are shini

Inside his tent, the shaman of Thaelen folk had visions. The visions changed in an irregular pattern. He moved in his tent, unable to sleep. Were the gods speaking to him? He wasn't used to this. He was desperately trying to close his eyes. There was no use. He couldn't sleep.At dawn, the visions stopped. He found peace at least to sleep. Everything seemed okay, until the visions started again. The shaman runs to the river. He knelt. The water's surface was calm. He looked at his reflection. He could recognize himself. The man in the water was dark haired with brown eyes. His face was decorated with war paints. The clothes, he was wearing, we decorated in the same pattern. His face changed. The face melted, revealing a much powerful shaman. The Thaelen shaman moved a step backward. The man turned, his face and hair were darker.“You can't run,” the man said.“I can,” the shaman replied.“There is no use in running.”

The crooked-nosed sorcerer stood near the main square, looking at the ordinary world as they passed, doing their business and daily routines. His cape moves with the periodical beating of the wind. He was early, earlier than what they had agreed. The stone wall looked promising; he moved to it and placed his left boot, which was made from deer skin, on the freshly dried wall. He didn't care, the spectacle that was about to happen was more interesting than some other wall. He waited. The world, around him, moved, he looked at the women with firm breasts. There a few that returned the favor. In the group, he was the only one single. Savan and Laert fought for the same woman.Savan walked slowly down the cobblestone street. His gaze was focused on the sorcerer. He returned the stare, but not for long. He turned the other way. There was something icy about his gaze, something that made him feel uneasy.The sorcerer moved from the wall, stood there for a few seconds and sta