Lands of hope

To claim any land, you need to mark the boundaries of this land. To stake a claim, simply put. The dragons set to work quickly: from far away Hardol and Ardin flowed materials that the shrewd dealers weren’t at all shy about selling to the “renegades of Amenemhat.” Aboriginal krakalevns was more than enough as soul source, and stealed souls turned into workers and soldiers. Ardean’s chartered starship had made several flights, bringing two more shipments of the winged ones to the new continent, most of them were the types Radver himself had been glad to get rid of in a peaceful way. Nevertheless, the population of the dragons in their “Nashar” didn’t grow too much — many died defending the construction of the “Allfather” city, Aat. Amenemhat’s conscience was aching; he couldn’t bear to see his fellows being killed every day for a long time. It was time to launch a counteroffense. But any attack is impossible without preparation, and preparation is always divided into several stages. Therefore, Amenemhat felt it necessary to visit several dragons, for whom he had a respect. Surt was not the least of them, even if he was somewhat… atypical for Dark one. But it was the peculiar quality of this dragon that raised him somewhat in Amenemhat’s eyes, and he was not without intelligence. Uninvited and unguarded, save for a soul that could be summoned in a split second, Amenemhat soared into the morning sky and flew to the east side of the stone tower, a temporary structure that housed most of the dragon “elite”. The only difference between their lives and most of the Dark Ones was their external status. So far, selfish dragons themselves understood that survival was more important than comfort, and they lived in the same harsh conditions as the rest of the people. That’s why there was less public debate — more time to shoot off krakalevns. Young Zorat, who had grown a full head taller in the past six months, was just training to help with this. Holding a sinuous wand at arm’s length in his right front paw, he repeatedly sent out his own energy in a radiant cluster, striking a target hanging on the wall in front of him. Surt was sitting nearby on a soft pillow, talking to a gray-and-white female who served him, with black diamonds on her forehead and chest. “You’re not busy,” Amenemhat said grimly, seeing that Surt wasn’t working hard to build the city or defend it. “I’m already doing a lot more than I did on my native minus fifth layer of hell,” Surt waved the female away. “Even more than you did there. I’m thinking.” “Oh, your thoughts will certainly help us greatly,” Amenemhat said sarcastically. Young Zorat bowed to him and moved to the wall, sitting down under the target. “Unfortunately, while some dragons are working their brains out, others are dying. Not everyone can be saved or resurrected, and there aren’t too many of us anyway.” “Maybe they die because they don’t think.” Surt was as indignant as Amenemhat. “I can see that your approach isn’t working. Krakalevns not just pay us back and protect their own city. Their thoughts own this land. It’s ours only in name. Its rivers and nature, the weather above it — all this is at the mercy of the Reapers of Life and serves their interests. The meat and fruit growing on this bank has become poisonous to us, and soon krakalevns may even remember about the fish in Weindal sea, and we’ll only be left with the most expensive imports of provisions. We don’t just need to launch a counterattack — we need to target specific targets so that their thoughts about reality don’t interfere with ours.” “I agree.” Amenemhat embodied a tightly closed pouch from his pocket dimension, took a pinch of ground grass from it, and inhaled its fragrance. “But thoughts of krakalevns inspired by navs. We’re building a second seaport, perhaps we’ll hold the coast and increase trade. This will save us from the threat of the city, however, in which case we’ll again fall under the rule of Radwehr and his tolls, whereas we have tried so hard to assert our independence. We need to move inland. And to make krakalevns unable to stop us. “Zorat, where did you put the map?” Surt shouted to his practicing son, using his telekinesis to remove all the extra dishes from the table. The dragonling ran up and placed a crystal on the table, which began to illuminate out a three-dimensional replica of the eastern coast of Nashar, which looked like the muzzle of a dragon opening its mouth. Surt had ordered the simulation to zoom in on the area around the lake-eye, where sit a magnificent city full of pyramidal structures and with a gigantic palace like a druze of iridescent crystals. Amenemhat smiled with satisfaction. “I see that despite everything, you’re thinking along the same lines as most other dragons.” “Another dragon will besiege the city or send exploding souls into it. How many scouts have returned? No one? Ah, the contour of the murderous primordial matter, which is impossible to control by all the laws of magic, and the krakalevns do it without the help of navs…” Amenemhat cast a sidelong glance at Zorat, who remained impassive at his father’s words. He might have laughed, but his tendency to cynicism would have already begun to show… “Have you spent hours thinking about what everyone knows?” asked Amenemhat, responding to a quip by a quip. “If only everyone from the krakalevns knew this, we would already know how to deal with it by analyzing the memory of corpses. Innumeral does not run in hordes, as in the legends of the Night Age, but they’re hidden in their own safety, especially their initiates in the mysteries of civilization. Krakalevns don’t trust each other, and rightly so. You didn’t think of transferring a dragon’s soul and mind into a captive, for example, but even that wouldn’t work with krakalevns' caution. We should shove in the attack and think about primordial matter, as did krakalevns. Amenemhat threw out a clenched paw and began to unclench his fingers one by one. “Some of them suggested catching a nav and trying to subdue him. Others recommend finding a nav and offering him a bloody sacrifice, using him as a battering ram against a shield. Still others are to rouse our scientists, who have been transferring supplies for nothing since their arrival. Four — you suggest thinking, but procrastination brings death to our brethren. Five” — Amenemhat winced. “We can ask for help. The explosion of an Ardean ship can destroy the shield or extinguish it temporarily. Or it may not do him any harm”. Surt removed the map’s crystal, dispelling the illusion of reduced terrain. “We need to stir up our chaoists, one of whom I sent away for your benevolence. Dragons can summon primordial matter, raw chaos, and it’s only necessary to learn to control It. All changes krakalens produce are through it. You can mutate not only bodies, but also the terrain, if you spray primary material over a large area. Dragons aren’t affected by such a small concentration of it, it does not pass through the shield of the aura and reflex will, but plants, animals and the weather — easily. Do you know how krakalevns choose from all possible random mutations needed? The only way you can control primordial matter and create worlds out of it”. “Only the Highest of the Light Ones' fairytales can do that,” Amenemhat said, turning to the landing window. “So krakalevns became them. We need our own higher Highest. * * * Surt wasn’t talking nonsense, but even Amenemhat didn’t immediately understand what he was talking about. In addition to the pranic magic known to all dragons — magic based on the use of vital energy — they could master another way of changing reality, the results of which weren’t as obvious as the explosions of boiling prana, but much more improbable and global. It required a high degree of self — control, because dragons who mastered it was able to change the world around themself by their own will and thoughts -t his is what Surt meant by the concept of “thinking” or “deciding what will happen”. Reality-changing wizards among the fugitives were numerous — almost all hardolians, because the new demiurge had begun to see them as dangerous competitors for power, whose magic was invisible and therefore its results couldn’t be blamed directly on them. Under the banner of freedom, Hardol was abandoned by Marda, the first chaotic woman to systematize previously secret techniques in the collection of texts of the “Black hand”, and Nergal, a priest of high initiation who gave all future nasharans the “pure language " so that all their words would become sacred and be implemented in reality… even Amenemhat himself, it was rumored, wouldn’t have been able to successfully carry out such a large-scale “escape” from under the noses of the demiurge’s servants if he hadn’t been able to turn accidents into necessary events for himself. But even with all this arsenal of reality-affecting magic dragons was equal to krakalevns, not surpassed them. Most dragons were still not wizards, and even among them some didn’t understand metaphors, taking words literally and acting directly. According to Surt’s “suggestion,” some fools decided to try and become the required Higher themselves, but chose to do so in an ornate and dangerous way. Having no idea how Hieron or Radver had become demiurges, the focal point of the entire dragon people’s energy, they began to try different methods at random, often with unfortunate consequences. Another problem was the lack of a common language. Yes, the “pure language” united many dialects of the pragovor, but it didn’t make the way of thinking of Dark, Light and chaotic people a single one. Not all the Dark Ones were as noble as Amenemhat, and they still wanted to please the Darkness with murder and other obscenities. Not all Light Ones even after the atheistic education of Radver rejected the idea that the Highest, the Creator of all, exists, perhaps even in the physical body, and has a unified code of conduct for residents of all planets: if there is a race of dumb, reasonable, all they after death are pulled down into the lower layers of Hell because they didn’t sing chants to the God in the morning. And most of the chaosists actually changed their attitude every day — although the most notorious lunatics had started swimming back to Hardol in the first few days of the squadron’s departure. Therefore, the shadow mage Namira Areau decided that there’s no need to make lots of the Highests, when there is only one Darkness, incorruptible and the only correct one. Without going to discuss her idea with anyone, she gathered the most dedicated Dark supporters to perform a ceremony that was designed not only to summon the Darkness, but also immediately provide it with all the opportunities to protect its worshippers. In days of old, on the abandoned lands, there were Incarnations endowed with the powers of darkness, seeing with its eyes and carrying its will. Why not create another one? The rituals of the call weren’t performed since the siege of Light Ones’ capital city, Awaater, by their own mad demiurge Semargl. It was a really outstanding event that called for a dire solution. But the secrets of the ceremony, told by its performer Razor to his students, were preserved — the daughter of Razor’s disciple, Arma Naur, arrived in Nashar. Namira did not spend much time on her persuasions — this female perfectly saw how her fellow were being killed by krakalevns, and felt the chaotic energy of navs demise dragons. Namira’s idea, bold and reckless, had lured Arma, and she agreed to help with the ceremony. Arma didn’t make Namira’s murder a grand ritual, as there was no matter how she died. In order not to harm her body, Arma decided to simply strangle her. Then she picked up the dead body by her mane: “Reincarnate, come to life,” she repeated the words Razor had once said over the body of a dragoness being returned from nothing. “Forever and ever. Hide, hide in this vessel”. Arma didn’t know who to call this time, so all she did was prevent the upstart astral entities from taking an inappropriate place, cutting off anyone’s ability to reincarnate in Namira. And all the same — the Darkness has come, because nothing can stop it. The soul that had been destroyed and spent on the summoning was restored in Namira, but it no longer had any character, so it didn’t glow with any color, but absorbed light. “Funny,” she said, standing up on her hind legs and examining her paw. “That you’ve decided to give me a completely unresisting mind. It was the right decision, Arma Naur, but I do not advise you to repeat it. The peculiarity of consciousness can sometimes be useful, because the next summoning me to the dragon body is better to perform without shaking out the soul.” “It’s in your power to create a new soul or revive the body without it, otherwise you aren’t worthy of our respect, Great and Beginningless,” — making a welcoming gesture with her wing, Arma, unlike other Dark Ones who cowered in fear, didn’t change her indifferent gaze. “I’m not as omniscient as you are, and I don’t know when and whom to I’ll have to summon you next.” “I’ll teach you a more effective way,” Namira massaged her throat, the huskiness in her voice beginning to fade. “There is no point in disfiguring the souls and injuring the bodies of dragons, otherwise how can they serve me? It is enough to put the body in the grave, there is no need to kill it.” “I’ll try it if I need it again. But now we have other concerns,” — Arma reminded the Darkness, but didn’t explain, since it already knew everything. “This is just a training task that can nott be solved in a moment, but it will help us become stronger,” Darkness in Namira said, wagging her tail. “If dragons live without danger, they grow fat, and fools are born among them, who begin to use dangerous practices, strangle each other in their beds, and out of interest sleep with members of their own sex. Krakalevns should stay unhindered. We will wage war on them gradually and transform the winged people into the creatures they were originally intended to be.” “We can find any number of dangers. Having finished with this enemy, you won’t have to wait for a new one,” — despite her respect for the She-Creator of Creators, Arma didn’t renounce her vision of the world. “But for us don’t end up dead, unable to cope with the constant dying, you must help us, Dark Mother.” “I agree with you,” said Darkness. “Your intelligence and judgment please me. After we complete our training, you will need to accept me into your body and gain strength in addition to your mind. But first we need to deal with the killing dome, " she said, walking slowly through Namira’s cubicle, where the Ceremony was being performed. — “Collect the dragons loyal to me, but don’t tell them about my appearance. I will appear to them, when you demonstrate my power, breaking through the defense of krakalevns.” “Then what do I tell them? Dragons don’t like empty words. Do what you have to do and show up later.”