Insouciance

The Last Day of Havenia.

It was an ordinary December day, life in the city flowed along its usual course, and everyone was busy with their own affairs. Even though a holiday was approaching, there were no visible external changes hinting at it. Only in one small tavern, located in the darkest and poorest quarter, could one notice a little commotion over the coming New Year. As in the previous several years, Revan was the instigator of the fuss. He stood in front of the stage and directed a couple of workers who were decorating it, preparing it for the annual contest.
- Well, did you absolutely have to sit here? - he addressed Vish in an annoyed tone; Vish was sitting on the edge of the stage tuning a guitar.
Vish did not answer, only gave him a slightly hurt but understanding look, then moved to a corner table. One table away from him sat Morni and Plesen, playing some board game. The neighboring table was even livelier: about five people were gathered there, the most noticeable of them being Ment, perhaps because he was standing rather than sitting. They were having some kind of quiz, about which the other tavern regulars knew almost nothing and did not want to know. Around the tables, a small orc with a club was making circles; he had appeared here quite recently. And although outsiders were usually treated coolly here and forced to leave the place as soon as possible, nobody threw this little fellow out, allowing him to stay despite the fact that he sometimes damaged the tavern. The last person present in the establishment was Arandor, who was trying to tune the jukebox standing to the right of the bar counter. He tuned it in the only way he knew: by pounding it with his fist.
- What a goatish piece of junk, - the elf grumbled. - Are you going to work today or not? - he continued scolding the tavern's property, hitting the wooden frame harder and harder.
- Leave it alone already, - came a voice from the staircase leading to the second floor. Nebo was coming down, followed by Heroist.
- No, it worked yesterday, so it will work now, - the lad did not lose hope.
- Just do not break your fists, - the white-haired elf smirked, heading for the bar. The knight followed him.
- If I break them, it will not be on the machine, - Arandor threw after him, then returned to his task.
When the bulb in the machine finally lit up and the record began to spin, Arandor turned toward the hall to boast to his comrades of his skill in repairing old technology, but his gaze stopped on the entrance door, namely on an unfamiliar girl who had just entered. At that moment music began to play.


The young man immediately forgot everything and fell into a stupor while the beautiful creature slowly walked to the bar, looking over the visitors and the establishment itself. The locals did not pay much attention to the newcomer; only a couple of people threw brief glances and returned to their business. When the girl stopped not far from Arandor, he could get a better look at her. She had long dark hair, a neat little nose, pretty lips, and coffee-colored eyes holding that gaze, so warm, gentle, and inviting, like a cozy little flame that moths fly toward, or like stars that are hard to make out in a cloudy night sky. At least that was how it seemed to the young elf. He was distracted from his thoughts only when the girl approached him.
- Excuse me, - she began timidly. - Could you help me?
- Huh? Me? - the young man was completely flustered, but at the last moment managed to pull himself together. - Yes, of course, no problem.
- I wanted something to drink, but I do not see a bartender here.
- There isn't one, - Arandor answered as if it were nothing. - We have an electronic ordering system here, though from the tavern's appearance you would never think such technology could be here, much less in working order.
- Yes, that is true, - the stranger giggled.
- Let me show you how it is done. - The elf stepped behind the bar, pressed a couple of buttons on the panel next to the "beer" tap, and held up a mug, which after a few seconds filled with liquid. - Here you go, - he handed the girl the drink.
- Mm, and what is it? - she asked.
- Oh, - Arandor blurted, realizing he had forgotten to ask what exactly the stranger wanted to drink, after which he apologized and told her what was in the mug.
- No worries, it is all right, - the girl smiled.
- You will like it, just try it.
- It is my favorite drink, but I have never had it made by this recipe before.
- Well? - the young man asked.
- You know, it really is good, - the beauty answered, emptying the mug.
After that Arandor talked with the stranger for another ten minutes, then they said goodbye and she left, waving her graceful hand to him one last time.
- I see you liked her, - Morning noted, approaching his friend.
- Eeeh... - was all the elf could produce.
- Since you are sighing dreamily, that means I was not wrong, - the shaven-headed guy said with confidence. - She really is pretty, and her skin is that pale-delicate kind you like.
- You can say that again.
- Did you at least learn her name, or how to contact her?
- Well... her name is Daya, and as for the rest...
- No? - Morni asked, frowning. - But why? You have to take risks, otherwise nothing will happen.
- Maybe, - Arandor began doubtfully, - but I think in this case there was no point, so...
- There was, - the cleric insisted. - I saw her look, and she liked you too, I am telling you for sure.
- Are you sure?
- More than.
- But she has already left, which means I will have to wait for the next meeting, or...
- Or run after her, - Morning interrupted his friend.
- Run? - the elf repeated in surprise. - You suggest running? Right now?
- Why not? Maybe she has not yet left the area.
- Maybe, but... I do not know, I need to think.
- If you think too long, you definitely will not make it, - the bald man warned. - But decide for yourself; it is up to you, - he added, then returned to his table.
Arandor stood behind the bar and thought about what to do. He understood that sometimes one had to take risks, simply had to, but fear of failure always held him back and prevented him from fully using the opportunities that appeared.
- Run or not, run or not, run or not, run or... - spun in the elf's head until his attention was drawn by the sound of a breaking table and shouts.
What the hell?! - Plesen and Morning yelled simultaneously.
- Are you completely *beep*? - the horned one pounced on Dubinkin.
- Why the *beep* did you hit the table with your club, *beep*? - the cleric backed him up.
- Hey, hey, easy, - Ment stood up for the little one. - He is still a child, and besides such a cu... - The druid looked at the culprit standing nearby and picking his nose, - wild one.
- Exactly, wild! He does not belong here, he needs to be thrown out.
- Yes, but first I will smack him.
- Wait!
The little orc started running around the tavern when the enraged pair tried to catch him. Looking at all this circus, Arandor nevertheless decided to take a risk and try his luck.
- I will do it! - he declared, though most likely nobody heard his words.
When the elf ran up to the door, ready to grab the handle and open it, someone beat him to it from the other side and flung the door open so hard that it knocked the young man off his feet.
Guys, we have problems! - Dag exclaimed in alarm, practically flying into the tavern.
- Yobrngyndy, - Arandor mumbled, lying on the floor and holding his nose.
What happened? - asked someone present, while everyone else merely thought it.
- The Third Quarter, it has literally vanished completely, - the messenger began anxiously.
- Vanished how? - Ment was surprised.
- The buildings started getting covered with something like ice, then simply evaporated, along with the people inside them. I barely managed to get out.
- Guys! Guys! - came a voice from the street, belonging to Kosha, and soon she herself appeared in the doorway. - There, uh, the mafia quarter...
- Is disappearing?
- Yes! But how did...
- The Third has the same problem, - Dag explained, not letting her finish.
- But it has not vanished completely yet, and there are people left there; they need help.
- Of course we will help, - Ment volunteered. - But where do we go afterward? We cannot just sit here when something like that is happening in the neighboring quarter.
- Right, we need to look for a way out, and quickly, - Morni concluded.
- Maybe to the city center? - Plesen suggested. - It always seems safe there.
- But how do we get there? We do not have keys.
- We do not, but there are some in the coordinator's tower.
- Then we need to split up, - Ment concluded. - I and a couple of volunteers will go for the keys, since I have access to the Fifth Quarter and we can quickly reach the tower, while the rest follow Kosha.
- But... what about the girl? - Arandor asked, sniffling.
- Apparently another time, - the cleric answered him, at which the elf sniffled again.
- Heroist and Nebok, come with me, - Ment called the pair sitting at the bar.
- Then Plesen, Morning, and Dag are with me, - Kosha decided. - Ar, are you coming?
- No, I had better warn the others about the danger.
- I can go, - the guy with the guitar, still sitting in the corner, perked up.
- Good, Vish. - Then the girl addressed Revan, who continued decorating the stage.
- No, - he answered categorically, - I think it is safest here.
- Why?
-Because this is the gloomiest, grayest, most disgusting place in the entire city, resembling a dump or a waste pit where useless and worthless people have gathered: outcasts, the sick, people with deviations, and simply those who have lost all hope of finding their place outside this garbage heap. Do you think this calamity will come here on top of everything else? By the design of the universe or by the Creator's will? No, no, and no again! That will not happen, otherwise it would be too much for this place and for all of us, - Revan declared with complete seriousness and absolute confidence in his words.
- Well... all right.
When everyone had gone on their assignments, Arandor approached the bar, poured himself some water, and looked around the room. Now there was nobody here except Dubinkin, who was eating something from the table where people had been sitting only recently, and Revan, diligently preparing for the holiday contest. Having quenched his thirst, the elf filled his flask with water and fastened it to his belt, then looked toward the stage again. He liked the devotion to the cause and the diligence with which his comrade worked. He himself would have abandoned the idea long ago, perhaps for some made-up reason or simply because of laziness. Arandor also found it funny that these two in particular were here, because Revan too had once been an unbearable little fellow and could easily have found himself in the young orc's place. But much had changed since then, and now this man kept this place alive, a place that would long since have sunk into oblivion without him. Smiling at his thoughts, the elf headed for the exit, though he did not know exactly where to go or what to do, or whether there was any point in leaving at all.
Once outside, Arandor looked around and saw Heroist and Nebok near the moderators' hut. Going up to them, he asked where Ment was and why they were standing there.
- He asked us to wait, - the knight answered.
- Business, - Nebo added.
- I see. Well, all right.
At that moment Neyra appeared from around the corner. Noticing familiar faces, she headed toward them.
- Hi there. Why are we standing around?
The three greeted her in return and then told her what was happening.
- Well, *beep*, - the girl said, dismayed.
- Exactly.
- By the way, Nebok, why are you so pale? - the redhead asked, abruptly changing the subject.
- It is nothing...
- He has been like that for a long time; you just rarely visit us and do not know what goes on here, - Arandor interrupted.
- I see, - Neyra looked the young man over appraisingly. - Still, you looked better before, - she added.
- I like how Nebo looks, - Heroist defended him and immediately became embarrassed, as did his friend.
- Umm, - Neyra looked at the pair suspiciously. - I see.
- Oh, extra help will not hurt, - Ment said happily, finally coming out of the house.
- Were you changing clothes all this time? - the elf asked curiously, noticing that the druid had come out without his deer helm and mechanical armor with gear-shaped shoulder pads.
- Well yes, who knows what awaits us ahead, so I decided to choose something more comfortable.
- So you are going to the coordinator's tower? - the girl clarified.
- Yes. Coming with us?
- Why not. We can also pick up Morni; he is sitting in the pub with Vis right now.
- In the pub? - Arandor was surprised. - Was he not supposed to go with Kosha?
- Yes, but Siver went instead of him after meeting them in the street, so everything is fine.
- Well, if so, good.
- I think we can manage as we are, - Ment concluded after looking over the volunteers.
- All right, good luck with the tower; maybe we will meet again, - Arandor said and headed farther down the street.

At that time the other group was approaching the mafia quarter, which looked much better than its neighbor. A wall had been built around it, and one could enter only through the gates, but Kosha had the keys to them, so there was no problem with that. They were looking for two mansions: one definitely contained people, the other might. Some houses were already covered with ice or were just becoming covered, so Kosha decided to divide the group into two parts so as not to waste time. Plesen and Dag went to the main building in the quarter, while the others went to house number 101.

Meanwhile Arandor met Alex, and the two talked and briefly discussed the latest news. The elf even mentioned the girl from the tavern, and that determined his next actions. As it turned out, Alex had seen her too and said she had gone toward the Fifth Quarter. This time Arandor did not think long and immediately set out.

When Plesen and Dag reached the right house, they remembered that it too had a fence around it. Not as tall as the wall around the quarter, but quite impressive, and they had no keys. Fortunately for them, a tree grew nearby, and Plesen climbed it easily. Hanging from a thick branch by his tail, he pulled Dag up, and together they climbed to the other side. A man's voice came from the mansion.
Things were worse for Kosha and her companions, because the door would not open even with a key, while there were definitely people inside and, on top of everything, the building had started freezing over. They decided to break in through a window, but the first-floor windows were boarded up, and the second floor was rather high. First Kosha tried standing on Siver's shoulders, but that was not enough, so Vish had to join in as well. When the girl reached the needed height, she tried to open the window, but it would not yield.
- Try the next one, - Siver suggested.
- All right, - Kosha answered and began carefully moving along the cornice.
Reaching the target, she saw people inside and began knocking on the glass. Seeing her, the prisoners rushed to the window. Among them was Sezam.
- Faster, - Vish urged, noticing the ice crust beginning to approach.
When the window finally opened after another tug, Kosha lost her balance and fell, but fortunately Siver managed to catch her.
- Jump! - the girl shouted.
- Now, - came the answer.
At that moment the ice had already spread onto the window frame, and apparently Sezam noticed it too late. Climbing onto the windowsill, she grabbed it, and in an instant the ice leapt onto her hand, pinning her to the window. The girl tried to break free, but unsuccessfully, and before her comrades' eyes she turned into an icicle. They were shocked by this outcome, but time pushed them on and they hurried to the exit, especially since the ice had already begun spreading even across the ground. Running out onto the central street, the would-be rescuers saw their comrades, now three in number. Along with Dag and Plesen, Shaman was walking with a limp.
- What happened to him? - Siver asked.
- Got hurt during the rescue operation, - the other answered.
- And... - Plesen wanted to ask.
- No, - Vish anticipated him, - we failed.
They stood for about another minute, coming to their senses after what had happened and resting a little, then headed for the gates. When they reached them, the group discovered that the path was blocked by some transparent white veil.
- What the hell is this? - Dag fumed.
- Ugh, disgusting, - Kosha added.
- Let us check, - Vish said with curiosity, picking up a pebble from the ground and throwing it at the barrier.
The stone hit the veil and fell. A few seconds later it began to shake and divide into pieces, turning into scraps, and another moment later those pieces of white filth began rising, taking the shape of humanoids.
- I do not like this, - Shaman commented on what he saw.
- They look like... - Plesen began recalling stories from the book about Havenia.
- Mapstobs! - the girl exclaimed.
- Exactly! - the guy confirmed.
- Run! - someone yelled.
Dag and Plesen took Shaman under the arms, and the whole company ran in the opposite direction. There was another exit from the quarter, but the way to it was not short and led across a bridge. As they ran, buildings vanished before their eyes here and there, while more and more ice monsters appeared from gateways. Turning into yet another street, they saw a whole crowd of these creatures moving toward them.
- Faster, faster, - Siv urged the lagging trio.
Suddenly a group of mapstobs jumped out in front of them. Dag immediately drew his two-handed axe and began fighting them off. Vish, Kosha, and Siv wanted to help, but several monsters ran out at them too, appearing from around the corner of the nearest mansion; however, the bard managed to slip between them and reach his comrades.
- Run through the alleys, we will meet at the bridge, - Siver shouted to them and disappeared with Kosha behind one of the houses.
Picking up Shaman, Vish and Plesen followed their friends' example, except they had to move the other way. Dag, meanwhile, covered their retreat, masterfully wielding his axe and cutting off enemies' heads.

Having reached the Fifth Quarter, Arandor made sure that it too was empty, although there were no signs of the ice virus. Passing through the gates, which Ment apparently had not closed behind him, the elf hurried deep into the streets, but found no one. In the end he came out right at the coordinator's tower, where his friends were sitting and arguing about something.
- I see you have not gotten the keys yet.
- Your search seems not to have succeeded either, - Nebo said sarcastically.
- Glad to see you, - Heroist said happily.
-Well, we are thinking how to get into the tower, since it has no doors, at least for those without access inside, - Ment explained.
- But there is a window! - Neyra added nervously.
- Which is at fourth-floor height, - the white-haired elf summed up in an imperturbable voice.
- We made something like a kaginawa here, but the rope turned out a bit short, - the knight changed the subject.
- Lucky for you I came back, - with these words Arandor took a piece of rope from his backpack. - If we tie them together, the length may be just enough.



Having quickly finished work on the homemade grappling hook, the group approached the tower and began carrying out their plan. With a stick, the druid drew on the ground an approximate flight path the hook should follow in order to land exactly in the window.
- Maybe we tie the end to an arrow and Neyra shoots it from the bow?
- No, the hook is too heavy.
- We can throw it as is, - Nebo declared confidently.
- Oh, so you are a master hook-thrower, are you? - Arandor replied.
- Maybe I am, - the pale one took the hook in his hands and began spinning the rope. - Watch and learn.
- Maybe do not? - Heroist asked anxiously.
Choosing what seemed to him the right moment, Nebo loosened his grip and the hook flew from his hands, but it did not go up; it flew behind the elf and hit Ment, who was standing behind him, squarely.
- Are you all right?! - Neyra asked anxiously, running up to the druid.
- Seems so, - he answered, rubbing his head and moaning slightly from pain.
- You really are a master, - Arandor said with a chuckle.
- I can smack you too, - Nebo burst out furiously, stepping right up to the elf and threatening him with a fist.
- Come on, try. Maybe you are also a master of hand-to-hand combat?
- You are asking for it...
- Enough! - Heroist cut into the two elves' verbal skirmish. - You seem to have forgotten why we are here, yes?
- Tell them! - Neyra supported the peacemaker, helping Ment get up.
- Now I will try, - Arandor said, lifting the hook from the ground.
The other elf's throw proved more successful, because the hook shot straight up vertically, at an absolutely right angle, forcing everyone present to scatter so it would not fall on their heads. This time Ment wanted to spare himself injury for certain, and for that very reason decided to run farther away from the tower. Only he failed to notice the treacherous tree root sticking out of the ground, which caught his foot. After such a trip it was hard to stay upright, especially in armor. Finding himself on the ground again, the druid cursed, then in a commanding tone asked Heroist to throw the damned hook.
- Finally, - Ment sighed in relief when the hook flew into the window and caught firmly on something.
- Well, who climbs? - Nebo asked, clearly making it known that he did not want to be that volunteer.
- Ment is in no condition, I am in heavy armor, so...
- But why not you? - Arandor addressed Nebo, who had no visible reason to refuse.
- Because, - he answered.
- Oh, you men, - Neyra said disappointedly, grabbing the rope.
While Ment rubbed his bruises, the others stood by the tower and watched their friend climb.
- Now that is a... woman, - Arandor remarked, watching the process in fascination.
- You can say that again, - Nebo agreed.
- Yes indeed, - Heroist added.
- Hey, you down there, are you looking at my ass? - the girl shouted, remembering her somewhat revealing outfit.
- No, - the trio answered in chorus.
Having climbed into the tower, Neyra began searching for the key, but without success.
- They are not here!
- Are you sure you searched everything?
- Yes, though there is another door here, but it is locked and I cannot open it.
- Well damn... - Arandor thought, foreseeing further developments.
- We will have to help her, - Ment concluded.
- So, let us play rock-paper-scissors, and the loser climbs, agreed? the elf suggested.
- Fine, - Nebo agreed.
Luck was on Arandor's side, so the white-haired one had to climb the tower. Once upstairs, he and Neyra managed to knock down the door and continue the search. The others stood outside and talked. Having completely lost vigilance and forgotten the danger, the trio did not notice white creatures approaching from the other side, along with the icy "blanket."
- Hurry! There are mapstobs here! - Heroist's voice sounded.
- Mapstobs? - Nebo repeated aloud while searching a desk.
- Mapstobs, mapstobs, mapstobs... - Neyra tried to remember what that word meant. - Something familiar.
- All right, I think I found it, - the elf exclaimed joyfully, feeling something metal in the desk drawer. - Got it! Is this it? - he asked the girl.
- Umm, I do not know, - she answered honestly.
- We need to check with Ment, - with these words the pair headed back.
Returning to the window, Nebo and Neyra saw their comrades fighting ice creatures that resembled either people or some other humanoids.
- All right, take the key and climb down first, - the young man said firmly.
- But... - the girl wanted to object.
- Do not argue, - the elf insisted.
Seeing Neyra descending, Arandor ran to the tower, ensuring a safe descent for his comrades.
- Come on, faster, - he urged, fighting off ice monsters with a short sword.
Heroist and Ment were a little aside from the tower, fighting off a larger group. The knight fought with a two-handed sword, and the druid used an oak staff.
- Behind you! - Nebo shouted, noticing an enemy going around Arandor from behind, and threw his buckler at one of the mapstobs, hitting it right in the head.
At the last moment the elf managed to leap aside after hearing the warning, but stumbled and fell to the ground, thereby leaving the dangling rope unprotected. One mapstob quickly took advantage of this, grabbed it, and began yanking. Although Neyra was not far from the ground, jumping was still dangerous, especially onto an icy weirdo, and descending became difficult with such shaking. Unable to withstand the intense pulling, the rope either snapped or came untied, which ultimately led to the girl's fall. But she was lucky and the landing was soft; however, enemies were already waiting on the ground. Two mapstobs threateningly surrounded Neyra, raising their blades, when suddenly a knight in heavy armor crashed into them at a run, literally punching through the creatures' icy bodies and sending them flying into pieces.
- Thank you, - the girl said in relief.
- You are welcome, - Heroist answered, helping the redhead up.
Seeing that the rope had become much shorter, Nebo realized he would have to find another way out, if there was one at all.
- You goat, Arandor, - the white-haired one yelled, - Next time you climb yourself!
After these words the elf disappeared into the tower, while his comrades continued fighting the advancing mapstobs. About twenty seconds later the structure suddenly began to be covered with an ice crust, and so quickly that in less than a minute it turned into an ice spire, and another moment later vanished.

Passing the bridge, the four friends looked around, but Kosha and Siver were nowhere to be seen. Plesen suggested they had already left the quarter, to which Vish objected.
- So what, do we wait for them or go on? - Dag asked.
- I would rest, - Shaman answered.
The travelers decided to wait for their comrades and rest a little. After several minutes, silhouettes appeared at the far end of the bridge, and behind them a large white mass of mapstobs.
- It is them! - one of the guys exclaimed.



The pair were running with the last of their strength, and Siver held Kosha by the hand so she would not fall behind.
- A little more, - the guy encouraged his friend. - We will make it.
When they reached the bridge, one of the mapstobs placed a hand on the railing running along the whole road, after which it began to be covered with an ice crust that soon started spreading over the entire bridge.
- Run, run, run, - Kosha tried to urge herself on, but that did not add to their speed.
Watching their comrades, the four friends did not notice that they themselves had ended up in danger. An ice ball flew over their heads and hit the bridge. Ice immediately formed there and instantly began spreading. Turning around, the travelers saw a mapstob on the roof of the nearest house, one that looked different from the others. It pointed its hand at the people, and another ball appeared in the air, rushing downward. This time the shot was more accurate, but the targets proved nimble. In addition to the shooter, several more groups of monsters appeared on the street. The four had no choice but to flee. They rushed through narrow streets, trying to break away from their pursuers. Glancing toward the bridge, Vish saw Siv and Kosha stop, cut off by ice crust on both sides as it spread faster and faster, approaching them. The guy embraced the girl and pressed her tightly to himself. They stood like that until they were completely covered with ice and turned into ice statues.
*Whoosh-whoosh* sounded in the sky. Plesen raised his head and saw a dragon flying above them.
- I will land on the workshop roof and wait for you there, - the winged one roared in a bass voice. - Hurry!
Rushing toward the needed house, the group did not think much about exactly where to turn, only about moving in the right direction and along streets free of enemies. That became their mistake, leading to them ending up in a dead end, surrounded by mapstobs.
- Where now?
- Into the house! We will try to get through the roof.
Clearing the way with his axe, Dag led the others to one of the nearby mansions.
- Open the door, - he commanded.
First Vish tried to knock it down, but failed. Then Plesen joined in; the two threw their weight against it, and on the second try the door yielded.
- Where are the stairs?! - the bard panicked.
- Hell if I know, - the horned one answered.
- Search!
While the trio searched for a way up, Dag held the defense at the door.
- Found it! Shaman's voice came from the back room.
Everyone hurried to him, but mapstobs had already climbed into the house through the windows and blocked their path.
- You go, I will hold them back, - Dag said with fury in his voice and rushed at the ice monsters.
When Plesen and Vish reached Shaman, they saw him fighting off an enemy with a broom. Drawing his sword, the half-demon ran a mapstob through. Then, picking up their friend, he and the bard dragged him upstairs. Reaching the roof, they began calling Wistrit, who was several houses away from them. Noticing his comrades, the dragon soared into the air and headed toward them. But he could not land, because the mansion was not very wide and there was little space on the roof. Calling to Dag, the trio never received an answer, hearing only the sounds made by the mapstobs climbing toward them. Quickly tying a lasso from the available rope, Shaman and Vish held onto Ples, who with an accurate throw looped the rope around the dragon's tail when it flew above them again, thus leaving the ill-fated quarter.
Returning to the tavern, Ment's squad met the remnants of the rescue group, but Vis was no longer with them. After exchanging news, they jointly decided to honor their comrades' memory, then went outside and continued discussing further actions.
- I am not going any farther, - Vish said, unexpectedly for everyone. - I have had enough adventure, and besides, I am starting more and more to think that Revan is right and that it is safest here.
Nobody tried to dissuade the bard, so he calmly returned to his corner table, where he could go on playing his favorite melodies and watch the two regulars who were still inside the tavern. The others did not want to abandon the original plan, especially after everything that had happened.
- By the way, where did Wistrit go? - Arandor asked.
- He went back to the pub; he needs to refuel. - Plesen answered, scratching his horned head.
It was not that their comrade was a great lover of drink; rather, it was a necessity, because thanks to beer Wistrit could take the form of a dragon, but it lasted only a few minutes after transformation, so he often had to drink.
- Then we need to go there. If Morni is still there, he will patch Shaman up and we can move on.
- You are still alive, - came a voice from the side.
Turning around, those gathered saw Mortulus, as always dressed all in black.
- Hello to you too, - the druid greeted him good-naturedly. - Want to come with us?
- No, thank you. Failure clearly awaits you ahead, and I would rather wander the deserted city enjoying the sepulchral silence.
- As you wish.
- By the way, Arandor. I heard you are looking for a girl, is that true?
- Yes, why?
- Then you should look in the Chaelfe Quarter; I saw her there.
- Thank you, but that is exactly where we were going.
- In that case, hurry.
Watching the necromancer walk away into the street, everyone in the squad thought how strange Mortulus was, and then set out.

- Here we are at the pub, - Ment tried to cheer up the wounded Shaman.
- I will call them, - Neyra volunteered and entered the building.
- How did Wistrit know you needed help? - Heroist asked.
- He explained it by saying we had been gone too long and he decided to fly reconnaissance. As it turned out, not in vain, - Plesen said.
At that moment, in just a few seconds, the pub was completely covered with ice and then disappeared, leaving behind a cloud of icy particles.
- Nooo! - one of the guys screamed.
When the icy dust settled, those remaining outside saw a mapstob standing just on the other side of the house.
- That thing killed them! - the knight shouted in fury.
The enemy did not wait for action from the group and attacked first, conjuring its usual ice sphere. Ment stepped forward, trying to protect his comrades with staff and magic, but the opponent's magical power proved stronger. In an instant the druid turned into an ice statue. The others froze at what they saw, while meanwhile the mapstob mage began creating a second sphere. When he was already ready to launch it, a mighty blow from above split him into pieces. It was Morning and his fiery mace, appearing in Alex's company.
- Are you all right? - the cleric asked worriedly.
- We... you... you are alive? - he heard in response from the elf.
- Yes, I left the pub shortly before that. It is only a pity I came back too late.
After healing Shaman, Morni began asking about the group's further plans. It turned out that Neyra had given the coordinator's key to Arandor when they returned from the tower, and therefore there was no point in changing the plan.
- So which way do we go, if the Fifth and Third are already inaccessible?
- Definitely not through the Sixth and Seventh, - the elf said. - Especially since construction work was going on in the latter, which means it is even easier to get lost there than in the Sixth, where I have never been.
- Maybe the Fourth? - Shaman suggested.
- No, they say it is dangerous there because of some dark phantoms or spirits of the past, and we already have enough enemies, - Plesen explained.
- Decide faster, - Alex hurried them, adjusting his eagle helm.
- Then the First and Second remain, - Heroist stated.
- Decided. We go through the village, - Morning announced.
Locals called the first and second quarters the village, although in reality they were not one. The thing was that half the area of those quarters was occupied by various parks and natural zones, making this one of the most beautiful and romantic places in the city.
- Ah, how I love being here, - Arandor said blissfully, forgetting everything for a second.
- True, a pleasant little place, - Plesen supported him; his pale pink skin, typical of half-demons, became even paler in the sunlight.
- Do not get distracted, - the cleric grumbled.
- By the way, - Alex snapped out of it. - Mortulus told me that perhaps through the United Quarter we can not only leave the city, but fix everything.
- How is that? - Heroist wondered.
- I do not know, but he said something about the Creator's system building. If we can get in there with the key, maybe we will manage to get rid of all the mapstobs and return the vanished buildings along with the people.
- Interesting thought, - Morni noted. - That is exactly what we will try first. If it does not work, then all that remains is to leave this place once and for all.
The group moved purposefully toward its goal, weaving between the two quarters, which were practically merged into one. This was done to avoid possible encounters with ice creatures and, if possible, to confuse them. Reaching the United Quarter, the squad switched to cautious mode, especially since there were far more buildings here and the enemy could appear from any corner.
- What does it even look like? - Shaman asked.
- Hell if I know, - Alex answered.
- It is tall, like this, - Arandor tried to explain.
- They are all tall here, - Plesen objected.
- It has a sign on it... In short, you will understand when you see it.
- Fine, - the horned one sighed.
Coming out onto Moderator Street, the squad finally saw the coveted building.
- That is it, - the elf confirmed excitedly.
- Then let us go, - the cleric commanded.
Lagging slightly behind the group, Arandor called Heroist over and said something to him, handing him the coordinator's key as he did. After that they caught up with the others and continued in formation. When only a few houses remained before the target, about fifty mapstobs came out to meet the squad.
- Well, shall we have some fun? - Morning addressed his comrades, anticipating battle.
- Looks like we have to, - Alex said without enthusiasm.
The group of six rushed at the ice monsters, including Shaman, who had armed himself with a spear found in the tavern. And although they were succeeding in destroying mapstobs, their number did not decrease, but rather seemed to grow.
- Where are they coming from?! - the knight grumbled.
- I will try to distract them, and you move toward the building, - Arandor declared resolutely.
His comrades said nothing, only nodded in agreement.
- How do you like this surprise?! - the elf asked loudly, taking some object from his pocket, then threw it to the ground, and a large cloud of smoke filled the battlefield.
Plesen, Heroist, Morning, Alex, and Shaman rushed toward the system building, while Arandor ran the other way.
- Hey, you! - he shouted to the mapstobs and turned around the corner of one of the houses.
The ice creatures raced after him, and he kept running along the streets, sometimes turning into neighboring ones. Noticing that the monsters had fallen behind, the elf decided to catch his breath and sat on the porch of one of the houses.
- Psst, kid, - someone called him.
Turning, Arandor saw a vagrant hiding in the front garden.
- Who are you? - he asked the homeless man.
- Not important, - the man answered. - Have the mapstobs gone?
- No, they are nearby; apparently they cannot find me.
- What a calamity. As if we needed these vile creatures too, - the stranger said, upset.
- Yeah, - the elf agreed.
- I hope they did not grab that girl.
- Girl? - Arandor asked again.
- Yes, one was running around here, could not find the way out. Seems she is new in the city.
- What did she look like?
- Well...
From the vagrant's description, the elf understood that he was talking about Daya. In addition, the little man said she had gone into the building of the newspaper "Heroes' Herald," which was across the street.
- Thank you, thank you very much! - the young man exclaimed joyfully and rushed down the road.
Reaching the right house, Arandor went inside. The building was dark and creepy, but that did not stop him. The elf had time to think that this was one of those rare cases when he would have been glad to have a large crowd of people nearby. Carefully making his way through the rooms, he looked for the girl, but unsuccessfully. Climbing to the third floor, the young man approached a window, deciding to inspect the street for pursuers. There was nobody there, which let him sigh in relief. Quite by chance, he glanced at the neighboring building and saw a person in its window. Looking closer, the elf recognized Daya. It was definitely her. He began knocking on the glass, trying to attract her attention, but she did not hear. Then Arandor opened the window and began shouting. Only on the third try did the girl notice him and smile. She also tried to open the window, but could not. At that moment the young man saw a mapstob approach the building and place its hand on the wall, causing it to begin freezing over. The elf began shouting to the girl that she should run, but because of the closed window she did not hear. Then Arandor decided to act himself and rushed downstairs, but on the second floor several ice creatures blocked his way. The young man ran first into one room, then another, but mapstobs appeared everywhere. Soon the walls inside the building also began to be covered with ice crust, leaving even fewer options. Running into yet another room to escape the freezing virus, the elf found himself in a large hall with no windows and only one door ahead, not counting the one through which he had entered. He headed forward, but it was too late: someone slammed the door before him, and it began turning into an ice wall. Trapped, Arandor closed his eyes, saddened that he could not save the girl and preparing to accept his fate.
When he opened his eyes, there was nothing around, only blinding bright light, which immediately forced him to close them again. On the second attempt everything was different: no white light, only a bed and his own room. Getting out of bed, he washed, put on the kettle, turned on the computer, and immediately launched the player.


Pouring himself hot tea and taking cookies, the young man stood by the window, admiring the morning snowfall. Noting that the weather was wonderful today, he decided to add some variety to his usual weekdays, considering this day suitable for going out into the real world.