The view from the hill was beautiful.
The sun, already beginning to set, illuminated with a golden-pink light the village lying below, the black empty fields spread out around it, the shiny ribbon of the river that skirted the hill and lazily rushed towards the town in the distance, and the now familiar forest on the horizon. Iantar glanced at the town - a great option to spend the night there. But she would deal with that later.
At the very top of the hill lay a large, not very high stone - a better altar could not have been imagined.
The enchantress rummaged through the saddlebags strapped to the saddle of her horse, Stella. She pulled out a beautiful dark green bottle - inside was the most expensive white wine she had managed to get in these area. Wine was generally not cheap everywhere here, and in places unpopular with wandering southern traders, there was sometimes none at all. The locals brewed beer, which Iantar could not stand. After the first tavern, where there was no wine, the girl got used to stocking up on it for future use. However, this bottle is not for her.
Iantar placed the bottle on the stone.
She remembered how in Candoria she took a traditional vow before taking office - to make a sacrifice in case of a successful first deed. Battle enchanters took a vow to Mars, healers - to Apollo. Iantar stood in the temple, illuminated by many lamps, in front of a huge bronze statue of Mars, and for some reason it seemed to her that he was about to wink at her. And to the traditional words of the vow, the girl quietly added "play along with me."
Well, Mars kept his end of the bargain.
The enchantress threw the hood of her cloak over her head, and standing before the stone, said, raising her hands to the sky:10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYIMAo0rLJO
"Accept, mighty Mars, this wine, which I bring you in gratitude for my first victory."
Iantar uncorked the bottle and poured all the wine from the bottle onto the stone. She stood there silently for a while. The leaves of the nearby trees rustled, and birds were gently chirping about something of their own...
However, it was worth taking a room in some tavern early. Iantar threw off her hood, jumped into the saddle and directed her horse to the foot of the hill.
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL5A9i4prVI
***
The town had about twenty thousand inhabitants. It was not comparable to the seven hundred thousand of Candoria, but the bustle of the trading center was already felt here. On the streets, paved here and there with boards, people of all four intelligent races and different, judging by their clothes, nations crowded chaotically - not surprising anyone - and from all sides the cries of merchants with various accents were heard. Every now and then horsemen and carts would pass, and sometimes even a whole trade caravan would slowly move through the crowd. Despite the fact that evening was gradually approaching, people were clearly going to trade and haggle while there was still something to be seen on the shelves.
Making her way through the streets on her Stella, Iantar looked around. There were even two-story buildings here, especially often in the center - sometimes even with tiled roofs. A few decades under the Candorian Imperium - and, who knows, maybe five- to eight-story buildings will rise in a disorderly row, just like the multi-apartment insulas in the Candorian slums. There has been much talk about establishing colonies in the new province of Candoria, which means there will be construction.
The enchantress was looking for a tavern "In a Friendly Circle" recommended by some local passerby - it was supposed to be right behind the market. That's where she found it, although there was no sign on it - rarely did any of the locals know how to read. A wooden beer mug the size of a beer barrel hung next to the porch as a sign.
There were already quite a lot of customers in the tavern, so Iantar couldn't find a free table. The enchantress settled down next to a couple of locals, one of whom was already asleep, his head hanging next to the snack, and the other was nodding off.
Having rented a room and finished the ordered dinner, Iantar took out a pen, ink and papyrus, intending to write a letter, but something kept distracting her all the time. The girl studied the most colorful personalities with curiosity and without being noticed. The company was very motley, just like in the Candorian taverns where she and her friends sometimes visited, pulling the hoods of their cloaks down over their noses - for it was not proper for the descendants of senators to go to dive bars. Among the waiters was a graceful, fair-haired elven woman who carried out orders with typical elven grace. A tall troll bouncer stood by the window, playing with a knife - his race could be unmistakably determined by his facial features, as if carved from stone, and his nose, which was practically without a bridge. On the stage, a local bard was strumming his lyre, his lively, thin face framed by fair curls spilling over the shoulders of his bright blue shirt. And at the tables directly in front of the stage, about two dozen dwarves had settled down, short and stocky - probably traders. Their round faces were flushed from drinking, and on their fingers, a large number of multi-colored rings shone.
Iantar called the innkeeper to her.
"Where are these guys going?" the girl nodded at the dwarves.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDgHzZjr8o7
"To Candoria," the innkeeper looked expectantly at the enchantress.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7jc6nogqlJ
"Wake me up when they leave," Iantar said. The innkeeper nodded and walked away from the table without asking any unnecessary questions. Surely one of the dwarves would agree to deliver the letter, the enchantress figured. But it would be better to negotiate with them when they sobered up.
Behind the girl, a group of locals were loudly arguing about which of the intelligent races would be harder to outdrink.
"A troll, definitely," the hoarse, slurred voice asserted, "I once drank with a troll..."10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYhP7U9tnjm
"No, you don't know," a high and sharp voice confidently declared, "the hardest thing is to outdrink an elf!.."10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2cYaIcibhu
"Elf? I respect you, Sean, but now you're talking nonsense. How much strength is in that elf?.. They're skinny..."10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5uEzcbc3AY
"Skinny, yes," a high voice responded, "but their bodies are prone to drinking. You will never in your life outdrink an elf."10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsEmLG8nANp
"Elf, for sure," someone supported him in a low and rough tone. "And only after them a troll!"10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiWt367DuDh
"Eh, no, - after the elf comes the dwarf!.."
In the end, the company decided that the elves would take the honorable first place, the dwarves and trolls would share second place, and in last place would be none other than humans, to which they decided to drink somewhat sadly.
Iantar remained silent, although she had something to say. In first place in terms of resistance to drinking, ahead of any other race, was precisely a human, but only one who possesses the art of sorcery (which other races are not capable of) - if he or she quietly sobers up with the element of life. This element is excellent for both treating illnesses and injuries, and for healing the body from any poison. But the thesis would certainly have to be proven in practice, and she had no desire to prove it.
Meanwhile, the bard on the stage began to sing a song in a very pleasant voice:
One lad wanted to marry a dwarf girl10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf33pgCSLiO
And to his father he went,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ62NU7H9R09
But unfortunately his old father10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvyxDrtYCHJ
Didn't want to give him his consent.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEIjzDyn3pW
Iantar had once heard this same song in a variation of "wanted to marry an elf girl". But the bard had obviously changed the plot on the fly to suit the interests of the most promising listeners. The calculation turned out to be correct - the company of dwarven traders responded to the creativity by generously throwing coins onto the stage (it seems that Iantar even saw a gold one) and noisy comments in strong dwarven expressions.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlLVmILj22a
The bard continued:
The lad run away with his bride then,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdUjjLDlc69
But in the dark forest they stuck,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡymC5ur7AB6
In that forest there were many monsters,10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqyBhyK9Tpm
And in the end they were...
"Brothers!" some local burst into the tavern, throwing open the door, "our guys are being beaten up by some assholes from the next street!"
A good half of the tavern (including the bard), seized with brotherly indignation, jumped up from their seats and rushed to inflict justice. The tavern became a little quieter.
Iantar finally returned to the letter and wrote on the sheet of papyrus: "Hi, Mom and Dad! I'm doing great..."
By the time the tavern visitors started to return (judging by the joyful cries, with victory), the girl had already finished writing the letter. She folded it, paid for the dinner and climbed the creaky wooden stairs to the second floor. At the end of the corridor was her room, which the innkeeper described as "the best."
Iantar entered and looked around. A couple of details did distinguish the room from the usual tavern rooms - someone's furry skin on the floor near the bed (a bear?) and a woven rug on the wall above the bed. The rug was quite worn, so it was difficult to determine what was depicted on it. Iantar examined the rug and assumed either a battle or a drinking party. There was a bathing tub in the corner; the water in it had already cooled down, but it was the easiest thing for the enchantress to warm it up. There was no glass in the window, of course - they were a rarity even in Candoria.
The girl opened the shutters and leaned out onto the street. The window looked out onto the market, where trading had finally ceased. Dusk had already fallen on the town, and a light breeze was blowing trash between the empty stalls. A large grey cat crept across the square. A drunken choral singing could be heard from far away. Iantar slammed the shutters, took off her boots and walked with pleasure over the soft fur. She sat down on the bed - and did not notice how she fell asleep.
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2jX1SiX7Wh
***
Sunrise was approaching. Iantar walked along the seashore. The grey sand brightened under her feet, and the sky turned pink on the horizon.
Someone was waiting for her at the water's edge. Someone tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in armor, a red tunic and sandals.
Iantar approached. Mars - for some reason the girl knew it was him - was looking straight at her, and his dark eyes sparkled with amusement. The black hair on his bare head swayed in the light breeze. In his hand he held a bottle (Iantar recognized it) and a silver goblet.
"A generous gift," said Mars. He poured some light wine into a cup and handed it to Iantar. "I want to share it with you."10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKHVQySjAMf
"I'm glad you like it," the girl smiled, accepting the offer. It was both cheerful and calm next to Mars. "Choosing wine in the provinces is a difficult matter."
The god sat down right on the sand, motioning for Iantar to join him, and took a sip straight from the bottle. Iantar settled down next to him and sipped the clear liquid from the cup. The wine was simply excellent.
"Your courage is commendable," said Mars, "but it could do with a little extra. Have you heard about the sources of power?"10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnEIPDCaagL
"A source of pure magic, from which you can draw, increasing your strength?" Iantar clarified. "I've heard of it. But in general, it's considered to be a fairy tale."10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrvrVVMlmct
Mars shook his head.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡls610yAHMw
"A source of power has recently opened to the northwest of here, beyond the sea," Mars waved his hand, and right in front of them there appeared a picture, swaying in the air like a mirage - a huge tree standing in a dense forest full of the same giant trees, as if it was saturated from within with shining sparks of all the colors of the rainbow. Light streamed through it from the very earth, illuminating everything around. "Hurry, and it is yours. You only have to touch it."10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXEOmnkfOLm
Iantar looked at the wonderful image with admiration, then turned to Mars:10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmMbyCzaJGi
"And where..."
But at that very moment the sun came out from behind the waves, flooding the coast with an unbearably blinding light... Someone was pounding on the door. The door?..
Iantar sat up in bed. The sun shone straight into her face through the crack in the shutters.
The knocking on the door continued.
The enchantress stood up, threw on her cloak and went to the door.10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHh0wFaKMMN
"Who's there?"10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxXP5dZjWhK
"Honorable lady, the caravanners are leaving. I'm waking you up, as you asked."
Iantar opened the door and returned to the bed. After rummaging through the bags lying around it, she pulled out a coin - a silver Candorian tripondium - and handed it to the innkeeper with gratitude.
When the door slammed behind him, she stood for a moment, eyes closed, recalling the details of the dream.
Well then. So, the northwest.
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