Heroist
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Well now... It turned out so-so, to put it mildly, but anyway. Now I can finally get some sleep.
Breathing heavily, Saburo fought his way through the thick brush hidden in the nocturnal gloom, rapidly descending the slope of the gorge. Dry, prickly branches scratched his arms and crackled nastily underfoot, forcing the samurai to stop and listen time and again, freezing in place. The difficult journey was complicated by a sky blanketed in impenetrable thick clouds that blocked out the moonlight; however, this was the only way to carry out the intended plan. Involuntarily touching the hilt of his favorite katana, the samurai overcame a momentary hesitation and boldly lunged forward. Perhaps fleeing alone was even better, as it made him harder to spot, but Saburo still slightly regretted that Kir had refused to go with him. On the other hand, anyone in his place would have been frightened and resigned themselves to their own fate. Anyone, but not Saburo.
Another snap of a broken branch merged with a piercing scream that echoed through the valley. So, they'd noticed him. Time was running out. Casting aside the flood of thoughts, the samurai quickened his pace. After some time, the hard stony ground beneath his feet gave way to loose earth, and the trees parted to reveal a wide hollow left by an old riverbed. Clearing his throat with a muffled cough, the fugitive risked crossing the ravine, sinking up to his shins in thick marshy sludge. Turning back for a moment, he saw bright tiny lights scattering the night haze like small sparks flying across the gorge. Angry shouts and fragments of phrases reached his ears. Without a doubt, he would soon be discovered, and then all that would remain is to accept the fight with honor, sending as many enemies to the other world as possible. On the other hand, it was not the criminals of the legion who were his true opponents, but there was no choice either way.
Reaching the opposite end of the hollow, Saburo shook off the thick layer of mud clinging to his boots and rushed forward in the chosen direction, away from the torchlights. The only chance for escape was to reach the opposite slope of the gorge. The samurai planned to then climb onto one of the low ledges of the mountain and turn sharply east, bypassing the valley along its very edge to confuse the pursuers. By his calculations, there wasn't much further to go. His heart hammered in his chest, and his tired legs carried his body forward on their own. The last rows of dried shrubs vanished into the gloom, revealing a sheer stone wall blocking the path.
Sighing hoarsely, Saburo froze for a moment, then rushed along the slope, unable to believe his eyes—or rather, his eye. What had seemed like an easy climb this evening was, in reality, a far side of the valley that shattered all myths about any possibility of climbing it. Treacherous lights, surrounding the doomed samurai, slowly approached from three sides, leaving no room for retreat. After running a few more meters, Saburo stopped to catch his breath. It was all over. Gathering his thoughts and casting aside the surging fear, the samurai drew his deadly weapon from its scabbard and prepared for battle.
—Do you really want to die in this disgusting snake pit? —an unexpected female voice sliced through the night silence. Did he hear that? The samurai turned his head and met the gaze of a girl who was looking at him with interest by the nearby mountain wall. —Well, so what, have you given up already? —she asked with a giggle.
—You... where did you come from? —he mumbled the first thing that came to Saburo's mind. —You weren't in the legion. —he added, preparing to rush into attack.
—Tsk, that's exactly why you would have been killed long ago if they wanted to; way too naive! —the girl smiled, tapping her fist against the barrel of an Inar weapon slung over her shoulder. —So what, given up already?
—I don't know who you are or how you got here, but you'd better get away. —Saburo sighed hopelessly. —I am being pursued and will be caught soon, so you'd better hurry.
—I see, very interesting! —the stranger exclaimed enthusiastically. —As an old acquaintance of mine used to say, it is our nature sometimes to despair and fall into the gloom of hopelessness. And that is exactly when the support and help of others can pick us up and instill hope for a bright future. There, I think I paraphrased it correctly. Or maybe it was about other situations...
—Are you mocking me? —the samurai smirked.
—Not at all, heavens no! I just wondered if now was the right moment to tell you about the cave in the north that leads to the highlands via the mountain slope, or if it's better to wait until you completely despair.
—What did you say? A cave? Is there really a way out from here? —Saburo's amazement knew no bounds. —You aren't lying?
—Well, you are so naive, and now you don't believe me! Funny, I like you! —the girl laughed.
—Please, lead the way! I... will be very grateful to you! —the samurai pleaded. At that moment, muffled footsteps, noise, shouts, and commotion were heard from the opposite thickets, and then a legion detachment emerged into the hollow, clutching burning torches in their hands.
—Well, I don't even know... —the girl murmured thoughtfully, observing her companion's reaction. —It's so fun to tease you! Well alright, let's go!
—You know, I am very, very unlucky and always bring trouble not only to myself but also to those who are near me! —with this phrase began the acquaintance of Saburo and Adilika, and these words sank deep into the samurai's soul.
—Then I will be the one who takes all your hardships and misfortunes with me. —he answered her laughing back then. Could he have known that the promise he made would soon grow into a tender attachment, and then into warm heartfelt feelings for his savior?
Adilika told him that she had once traveled with an acquaintance from Tilia, but for some reasons they had to separate. She always evaded questions about her own past, as if she did not want to raise those forgotten memories. Obviously, much grief had happened in her life; Saburo realized this even at their first meeting, looking into her faded eyes despite her constantly upbeat mood and apparent optimism. The samurai did not guess what caused the bright fire to go out once and for all in Adilika's soul, but he felt a kindred spirit in her, a close person who, like him, had faced many life trials but had not lost faith in life; therefore, he vowed to one day rekindle the flame in his companion's heart. It was easy to talk to her and fun to spend time together; she knew much about the world and always seemed to anticipate the samurai's actions and thoughts, involuntarily confusing him, and then bursting into laughter while observing his amazed face. But being near her, he felt as if he were in his parents' home, where you are always welcome and they are ready to give happiness, warmth, and joy for free, asking for nothing in return. Warmth that the samurai had lacked for so long.
—You know, I really wanted to see my native sea! —Adilika said one day, dreamily watching the crimson sunset. —I haven't been there in an eternity. You were probably planning to go to your Taosia, right? —she preempted the samurai who was about to answer. —Well, you won't leave me alone, will you? Traveling alone is so boring!
—Sigh, there's nothing one can do with you. —Saburo waved his hand. —But I am still being hunted; I wouldn't want to subject you to unnecessary danger.
—Oh please-please-please! —the girl pleaded, making a sad face and folding her palms.
—Fine-fine, just this once! —the samurai tossed out reluctantly, while rejoicing with joy in his soul. He often blamed himself for the fact that perhaps his presence truly could harm his companion, but he did not find the strength to leave her alone.
The journey to the southern (?) coast of Erzenia took a long time and proved to be a difficult trial for the travelers. On the border of Inar, plunged into chaos, the Tilian and the Taosian encountered a detachment of legionnaires, with whom they had to engage in battle. Saburo put his weapon skills to the test, gaining new combat experience and tempering his mastery, while Adilika boasted a rare weapon torn from the cold hands of an enemy commander.
—Tell me, Saburik. —one day the girl asked a question that troubled her.
—Mmm, what? —the samurai grumbled lazily, giving her his full attention.
—If I told you that I killed people just to make a living, would you be very disappointed in me?
—Obviously, you probably had reasons for it. I have no right to judge you for past transgressions. Sometimes we have to sacrifice something to save our own lives; it's natural.
—I see. —the Tilian thought for a moment. —And what if I told you that I worked for an order that you dislike a little, hmm?
—To be honest, at first I was very upset. —the Taosian answered. —Even back when you accidentally mentioned that you spent your childhood on the island now called Enluan. I don't know what prompted you to do it, but I think you simply had no choice, which means it is not your fault.
—Really? But there is always a choice. No, I really am a very, very bad person. —for the first time since they met, Adilika's face truly darkened. —I killed, deceived, and stole not only for profit. I simply liked it very much. Yes, an incomparable pleasure. Sometimes I remember the dying faces of my victims. I remember in Covellia I sneaked into the house of a young painter boy and slit his throat just to rob him. And he had almost no money! There was absolutely nothing except paintings. No relatives, no friends, no family. No-thing. That was his only joy and meaning of life, his entire existence. I lost much, but I took even more. I think that's why I didn't deserve the right to happiness. —sobbing, the girl pressed herself against the samurai's shoulder.
—You know, I also committed many follies in my life. —after a short reflection, Saburo spoke. —But I have always believed and will always believe that our fate is not predetermined, and the hardships and privations that fall to our lot are only the cause, not the consequence of our transgressions. You fell into the abyss of despair many times and always found the strength to continue fighting and moving forward. I doubt I could do the same, and therefore I admire, respect, and value you very much. Perhaps hardships and disappointments await you again ahead. But this time forget about them and keep moving forward, and I will take all your failures upon myself. Entrust your fate to me, Adilika. Entrust your heart to me. —finishing the phrase, Saburo gently embraced the girl. The Tilian raised her head and looked closely into his face. For a moment, it seemed to the samurai that a bright spark had flared up in her eyes again.
—You're just like Zigzag! —she suddenly declared, laughing softly.
—What? What Zigzag? Ah, that Zigzag. Well of course, that same Tilian you traveled with before me. No wonder...
—Shhh. —the Tilian placed her index finger to the samurai's lips, then smiled slightly. —I'm joking. You really are so funny! —she added, giving the Taosian a tender kiss. —Well then, protect me like a talisman against hardships! And don't even think about leaving me alone now!
—No, I won't leave you now. —Saburo shook his head. —I swear to you that our fates are linked forever, and we will live all these years happily, and even die on the same day, just like that.
Two years flew by like a single moment, and it was decided to continue the journey of the Taosian and the Tilian, which had paused at one of the coasts of Erzenia, in the northern part of the continent.
—Well, since we've already visited your homeland. —Saburo said once, looking from a high rocky shore at the chain of islands hidden in the mist. —Then now, perhaps, it's time to introduce you to Taosia.
—Do you miss your home, Saburik? —Adilika inquired, lying on the samurai's knees and gazing at the cloudless clear sky. —I don't mind, why not!
—True, we'll have to pass through the border of Inar again. —the Taosian pondered.
—Oh come on, are you still worrying about that old legion? So much time has passed; everyone has already forgotten about you. Moreover, the probability of accidentally meeting those death-seekers is almost zero, so forget it.
—As you say. —Saburo smiled. —I wish this happy time would never end.
—Well, everything is in our power, Saburik! —Adilika energetically agreed. —As long as you are with me, nothing will definitely threaten us!
—I'd like to hope so. —the samurai nodded.
In a border Inar town, the travelers were unlucky enough to encounter a detachment from the legion of death-seekers engaged in strengthening the local fortress. By a ridiculous coincidence, the first legionnaire they met turned out to be an old acquaintance of Saburo and easily recognized the Taosian as a deserted fugitive.
—Hey, you're that same one! —the Inarian roared in surprise, drawing a hand-and-a-half sword from its scabbard. In the next second, a swift lunge by the samurai deprived the opponent of his right wrist, and before his weapon reached the stone pavement with a loud clink, Saburo had already cut down the crossbowman standing behind him. Two bodies collapsed to the ground like rag dolls, flooding the road with crimson blood, and the Taosian was already heading toward the next victim when the cry of his beloved reached his ears. Grabbing the girl by her hair, one of the legionnaires pressed the blade of a sword to her throat.
—Drop your Taosian crap, or otherwise your girlfriend gets *****! —the death-seeker demanded authoritatively.
—Sorry, Saburik! —Adilika whispered frustratedly. —I told you, I'm always unlucky. Leave me, hack these ******* and save yourself, I know you can! —tears streamed from her eyes.
—What did you just blabber? —the legionnaire grew angry, not letting the Taosian out of his sight. His comrades meanwhile cautiously surrounded the opponent, holding crossbows ready.
—Silly girl. —Saburo smiled dreamily. —I promised that I would never leave you alone again. —he continued, opening his fist and allowing the katana to leave his hand. In the next moment, a sharp pain pierced his chest, his legs gave way, and a veil of mist covered his vision.
Saburo came to in a prison cell. The hastily bandaged wound stung terribly, sending paralyzing pain throughout his body. Making an incredible effort, the Taosian raised his head and looked around. His single pupil, having grown accustomed to the gloom, surveyed the dirty little room with walls cracked from age, separated by a narrow iron grate from a dark corridor, at the end of which lit lamps hanging along the walls flickered with an indistinct light. Finding no strength to stand up, the samurai with great difficulty slid to the floor and crawled to the grate, clutching it with his hands.
—Adilika... Adilika! —the weak whisper changed into a desperate call. —Adilika, answer me, are you here? —but the nearest cells answered Saburo's call only with empty silence.
After a few minutes, heavy footsteps were heard on the stairs from the far end of the tunnel, and then the plump figure of a guard in light armor appeared. —What are you screaming for? —he addressed the samurai sternly. —Your girl is here, don't panic. At first she was thrashing in hysteria; we had to quiet her down, but don't be afraid, she'll recover by the time of the sentence.
—How dare you touch Adilika, you scum? She did nothing to you! I am the one to blame for everything here, I am a deserter, I am a killer, let her go! —the Taosian would not relent.
—Bla-bla-bla. —the guard yawned, turning toward the exit. —But in one thing you are right. —his last words reached the samurai's ears, striking him like a bolt from a clear blue sky. —That it is solely your fault that you brought her with you.
—Yes... —Saburo whispered, leaning exhausted against the wall. —I am to blame for everything. Forgive me, Adilika. I must... apologize to you.
—Yeah, execution tomorrow. —this time anxious notes were felt in the guard's voice, and the man in a gray cloak with wide sleeves following beside him radiated a true stream of negative energy. —We, meaning, almost never have prisoners in this backwater; it's a quiet place here, you understand. But this time, you won't believe it! They caught a fugitive deserter-killer and his girlfriend. Yes, that same one. And this one is here. —approaching the cell, the guard tapped the iron bars with his boot. —Hey, you there, not dead yet?
—You won't live to see it. —Saburo whispered weakly, casting a blank gaze toward the legionnaire and his guest.
—Very good. —the stranger whispered gloomily, as if every word were given to him with great effort. —I am taking them.
—But... —the guard wanted to say something, but froze mid-sentence.
—I've already discussed everything with your chief, and he immediately gave his consent. Why do you need these problems? Hurry up.
—Eh... but, hm, well an order is an order, indeed, that happened. —the death-seeker agreed reluctantly, turning the key in the rusty lock. As soon as the cell door opened, Saburo rushed rapidly toward the exit, knocking the guard off his feet and surging forward down the corridor. In the next moment, the samurai's head suddenly spun, and he collapsed exhausted to the ground. The approaching legionnaire rained a hail of blows upon the Taosian, after which he whistled for his comrades to bring shackles from above.
—Look at him, how sprightly. You'll have to forgive us, it happens; now he won't be running around. Sure you can handle it yourselves? Well alright.
—Adilika... —the samurai whispered weakly, fighting the surging weakness. —Forgive... me.
He met the Tilian again in the cages for test subjects in Ishanad, where the living and dead, sick and crippled were thrown indiscriminately, as any biomass could be useful to sorcerers in their insane experiments. The girl's body was disfigured by experiments; she could not move independently and spoke with difficulty. Saburo, having endured torture in Suentan, fully realized the hopelessness of the situation they were in, but continued to tell her that they would definitely find a way out and escape. He said this more for himself, and over time these words saturated with hope became a habit for him. He spoke so as not to withdraw into himself and not let the voices of a maddened mind gain the upper hand over him. He spoke so as not to allow his beloved to fall into gloom and despair. He spoke because it was the last thing he was still capable of.
After another failed experiment, Saburo lost his second eye and right hand. In fact, it is quite likely that his internal organs had also long since been turned into a bloody mash, but he could only vaguely guess this from his own sensations, and unceasing physical agony became a habitual state for him.
—Hey, Adilika, are you here? —the samurai whispered weakly, waiting to hear an answer. —Do you remember how we first met? What a funny situation that was! You really surprised me then.
—Really, Saburik? —such a familiar, dear voice was heard right in the Taosian's ear. —It was so fun, wasn't it?
—Yes-yes, very fun! —the samurai mumbled stumbling, warding off the surging drowsiness. —And do you remember what you told me afterward?
—Of... course. —after a few minutes Adilika whispered. Even simple phrases were now difficult for her.
—Remember I promised you that I could take all your misfortunes with me? Forgive me. —the samurai added sadly. —I was wrong. I couldn't keep my promise. And I brought even greater troubles upon you. Forgive me, Adilika. It would have been better if you had never met me. —the Taosian wheezed weakly.
—How stupid you are, Sabu... —the Tilian unexpectedly answered. —Do you really not understand? You gave me two years of true happiness, more joy than I've experienced in my whole life.
—Happiness?
—Yes-yes, happiness! —the Taosian felt the tender touch of a female palm on his cheek. —You gave me the chance to love and be loved! You gave me a bright life! You gave me a meaning of existence! And even now I am happy that I can be here with you, now, in this moment, in this minute!
—Really? —Saburo whispered without understanding.
—You don't believe me again? So funny. You are the first, Saburo, who kept his word. You are my lucky talisman.
—In that case, so are you mine, Adilika. How warm it is in the soul, do you feel it? As if all the pain vanished somewhere far away in an instant, leaving only a feeling of half-slumber. Will you forgive me if I nap for a little bit? —with his remaining left hand, the samurai tightly squeezed the Tilian's hand.
—Of course-of course, Saburik! —her fading voice was heard through sleep. —And I'll sleep here instead with you! And then we'll meet again, somewhere else, right?
—Of course, we'll meet. I will wait for you there. —Saburo thought, and his exhausted face lit up with a happy smile for the first time in a long while.
Breathing heavily, Saburo fought his way through the thick brush hidden in the nocturnal gloom, rapidly descending the slope of the gorge. Dry, prickly branches scratched his arms and crackled nastily underfoot, forcing the samurai to stop and listen time and again, freezing in place. The difficult journey was complicated by a sky blanketed in impenetrable thick clouds that blocked out the moonlight; however, this was the only way to carry out the intended plan. Involuntarily touching the hilt of his favorite katana, the samurai overcame a momentary hesitation and boldly lunged forward. Perhaps fleeing alone was even better, as it made him harder to spot, but Saburo still slightly regretted that Kir had refused to go with him. On the other hand, anyone in his place would have been frightened and resigned themselves to their own fate. Anyone, but not Saburo.
Another snap of a broken branch merged with a piercing scream that echoed through the valley. So, they'd noticed him. Time was running out. Casting aside the flood of thoughts, the samurai quickened his pace. After some time, the hard stony ground beneath his feet gave way to loose earth, and the trees parted to reveal a wide hollow left by an old riverbed. Clearing his throat with a muffled cough, the fugitive risked crossing the ravine, sinking up to his shins in thick marshy sludge. Turning back for a moment, he saw bright tiny lights scattering the night haze like small sparks flying across the gorge. Angry shouts and fragments of phrases reached his ears. Without a doubt, he would soon be discovered, and then all that would remain is to accept the fight with honor, sending as many enemies to the other world as possible. On the other hand, it was not the criminals of the legion who were his true opponents, but there was no choice either way.
Reaching the opposite end of the hollow, Saburo shook off the thick layer of mud clinging to his boots and rushed forward in the chosen direction, away from the torchlights. The only chance for escape was to reach the opposite slope of the gorge. The samurai planned to then climb onto one of the low ledges of the mountain and turn sharply east, bypassing the valley along its very edge to confuse the pursuers. By his calculations, there wasn't much further to go. His heart hammered in his chest, and his tired legs carried his body forward on their own. The last rows of dried shrubs vanished into the gloom, revealing a sheer stone wall blocking the path.
Sighing hoarsely, Saburo froze for a moment, then rushed along the slope, unable to believe his eyes—or rather, his eye. What had seemed like an easy climb this evening was, in reality, a far side of the valley that shattered all myths about any possibility of climbing it. Treacherous lights, surrounding the doomed samurai, slowly approached from three sides, leaving no room for retreat. After running a few more meters, Saburo stopped to catch his breath. It was all over. Gathering his thoughts and casting aside the surging fear, the samurai drew his deadly weapon from its scabbard and prepared for battle.
—Do you really want to die in this disgusting snake pit? —an unexpected female voice sliced through the night silence. Did he hear that? The samurai turned his head and met the gaze of a girl who was looking at him with interest by the nearby mountain wall. —Well, so what, have you given up already? —she asked with a giggle.
—You... where did you come from? —he mumbled the first thing that came to Saburo's mind. —You weren't in the legion. —he added, preparing to rush into attack.
—Tsk, that's exactly why you would have been killed long ago if they wanted to; way too naive! —the girl smiled, tapping her fist against the barrel of an Inar weapon slung over her shoulder. —So what, given up already?
—I don't know who you are or how you got here, but you'd better get away. —Saburo sighed hopelessly. —I am being pursued and will be caught soon, so you'd better hurry.
—I see, very interesting! —the stranger exclaimed enthusiastically. —As an old acquaintance of mine used to say, it is our nature sometimes to despair and fall into the gloom of hopelessness. And that is exactly when the support and help of others can pick us up and instill hope for a bright future. There, I think I paraphrased it correctly. Or maybe it was about other situations...
—Are you mocking me? —the samurai smirked.
—Not at all, heavens no! I just wondered if now was the right moment to tell you about the cave in the north that leads to the highlands via the mountain slope, or if it's better to wait until you completely despair.
—What did you say? A cave? Is there really a way out from here? —Saburo's amazement knew no bounds. —You aren't lying?
—Well, you are so naive, and now you don't believe me! Funny, I like you! —the girl laughed.
—Please, lead the way! I... will be very grateful to you! —the samurai pleaded. At that moment, muffled footsteps, noise, shouts, and commotion were heard from the opposite thickets, and then a legion detachment emerged into the hollow, clutching burning torches in their hands.
—Well, I don't even know... —the girl murmured thoughtfully, observing her companion's reaction. —It's so fun to tease you! Well alright, let's go!
—You know, I am very, very unlucky and always bring trouble not only to myself but also to those who are near me! —with this phrase began the acquaintance of Saburo and Adilika, and these words sank deep into the samurai's soul.
—Then I will be the one who takes all your hardships and misfortunes with me. —he answered her laughing back then. Could he have known that the promise he made would soon grow into a tender attachment, and then into warm heartfelt feelings for his savior?
Adilika told him that she had once traveled with an acquaintance from Tilia, but for some reasons they had to separate. She always evaded questions about her own past, as if she did not want to raise those forgotten memories. Obviously, much grief had happened in her life; Saburo realized this even at their first meeting, looking into her faded eyes despite her constantly upbeat mood and apparent optimism. The samurai did not guess what caused the bright fire to go out once and for all in Adilika's soul, but he felt a kindred spirit in her, a close person who, like him, had faced many life trials but had not lost faith in life; therefore, he vowed to one day rekindle the flame in his companion's heart. It was easy to talk to her and fun to spend time together; she knew much about the world and always seemed to anticipate the samurai's actions and thoughts, involuntarily confusing him, and then bursting into laughter while observing his amazed face. But being near her, he felt as if he were in his parents' home, where you are always welcome and they are ready to give happiness, warmth, and joy for free, asking for nothing in return. Warmth that the samurai had lacked for so long.
—You know, I really wanted to see my native sea! —Adilika said one day, dreamily watching the crimson sunset. —I haven't been there in an eternity. You were probably planning to go to your Taosia, right? —she preempted the samurai who was about to answer. —Well, you won't leave me alone, will you? Traveling alone is so boring!
—Sigh, there's nothing one can do with you. —Saburo waved his hand. —But I am still being hunted; I wouldn't want to subject you to unnecessary danger.
—Oh please-please-please! —the girl pleaded, making a sad face and folding her palms.
—Fine-fine, just this once! —the samurai tossed out reluctantly, while rejoicing with joy in his soul. He often blamed himself for the fact that perhaps his presence truly could harm his companion, but he did not find the strength to leave her alone.
The journey to the southern (?) coast of Erzenia took a long time and proved to be a difficult trial for the travelers. On the border of Inar, plunged into chaos, the Tilian and the Taosian encountered a detachment of legionnaires, with whom they had to engage in battle. Saburo put his weapon skills to the test, gaining new combat experience and tempering his mastery, while Adilika boasted a rare weapon torn from the cold hands of an enemy commander.
—Tell me, Saburik. —one day the girl asked a question that troubled her.
—Mmm, what? —the samurai grumbled lazily, giving her his full attention.
—If I told you that I killed people just to make a living, would you be very disappointed in me?
—Obviously, you probably had reasons for it. I have no right to judge you for past transgressions. Sometimes we have to sacrifice something to save our own lives; it's natural.
—I see. —the Tilian thought for a moment. —And what if I told you that I worked for an order that you dislike a little, hmm?
—To be honest, at first I was very upset. —the Taosian answered. —Even back when you accidentally mentioned that you spent your childhood on the island now called Enluan. I don't know what prompted you to do it, but I think you simply had no choice, which means it is not your fault.
—Really? But there is always a choice. No, I really am a very, very bad person. —for the first time since they met, Adilika's face truly darkened. —I killed, deceived, and stole not only for profit. I simply liked it very much. Yes, an incomparable pleasure. Sometimes I remember the dying faces of my victims. I remember in Covellia I sneaked into the house of a young painter boy and slit his throat just to rob him. And he had almost no money! There was absolutely nothing except paintings. No relatives, no friends, no family. No-thing. That was his only joy and meaning of life, his entire existence. I lost much, but I took even more. I think that's why I didn't deserve the right to happiness. —sobbing, the girl pressed herself against the samurai's shoulder.
—You know, I also committed many follies in my life. —after a short reflection, Saburo spoke. —But I have always believed and will always believe that our fate is not predetermined, and the hardships and privations that fall to our lot are only the cause, not the consequence of our transgressions. You fell into the abyss of despair many times and always found the strength to continue fighting and moving forward. I doubt I could do the same, and therefore I admire, respect, and value you very much. Perhaps hardships and disappointments await you again ahead. But this time forget about them and keep moving forward, and I will take all your failures upon myself. Entrust your fate to me, Adilika. Entrust your heart to me. —finishing the phrase, Saburo gently embraced the girl. The Tilian raised her head and looked closely into his face. For a moment, it seemed to the samurai that a bright spark had flared up in her eyes again.
—You're just like Zigzag! —she suddenly declared, laughing softly.
—What? What Zigzag? Ah, that Zigzag. Well of course, that same Tilian you traveled with before me. No wonder...
—Shhh. —the Tilian placed her index finger to the samurai's lips, then smiled slightly. —I'm joking. You really are so funny! —she added, giving the Taosian a tender kiss. —Well then, protect me like a talisman against hardships! And don't even think about leaving me alone now!
—No, I won't leave you now. —Saburo shook his head. —I swear to you that our fates are linked forever, and we will live all these years happily, and even die on the same day, just like that.
Two years flew by like a single moment, and it was decided to continue the journey of the Taosian and the Tilian, which had paused at one of the coasts of Erzenia, in the northern part of the continent.
—Well, since we've already visited your homeland. —Saburo said once, looking from a high rocky shore at the chain of islands hidden in the mist. —Then now, perhaps, it's time to introduce you to Taosia.
—Do you miss your home, Saburik? —Adilika inquired, lying on the samurai's knees and gazing at the cloudless clear sky. —I don't mind, why not!
—True, we'll have to pass through the border of Inar again. —the Taosian pondered.
—Oh come on, are you still worrying about that old legion? So much time has passed; everyone has already forgotten about you. Moreover, the probability of accidentally meeting those death-seekers is almost zero, so forget it.
—As you say. —Saburo smiled. —I wish this happy time would never end.
—Well, everything is in our power, Saburik! —Adilika energetically agreed. —As long as you are with me, nothing will definitely threaten us!
—I'd like to hope so. —the samurai nodded.
In a border Inar town, the travelers were unlucky enough to encounter a detachment from the legion of death-seekers engaged in strengthening the local fortress. By a ridiculous coincidence, the first legionnaire they met turned out to be an old acquaintance of Saburo and easily recognized the Taosian as a deserted fugitive.
—Hey, you're that same one! —the Inarian roared in surprise, drawing a hand-and-a-half sword from its scabbard. In the next second, a swift lunge by the samurai deprived the opponent of his right wrist, and before his weapon reached the stone pavement with a loud clink, Saburo had already cut down the crossbowman standing behind him. Two bodies collapsed to the ground like rag dolls, flooding the road with crimson blood, and the Taosian was already heading toward the next victim when the cry of his beloved reached his ears. Grabbing the girl by her hair, one of the legionnaires pressed the blade of a sword to her throat.
—Drop your Taosian crap, or otherwise your girlfriend gets *****! —the death-seeker demanded authoritatively.
—Sorry, Saburik! —Adilika whispered frustratedly. —I told you, I'm always unlucky. Leave me, hack these ******* and save yourself, I know you can! —tears streamed from her eyes.
—What did you just blabber? —the legionnaire grew angry, not letting the Taosian out of his sight. His comrades meanwhile cautiously surrounded the opponent, holding crossbows ready.
—Silly girl. —Saburo smiled dreamily. —I promised that I would never leave you alone again. —he continued, opening his fist and allowing the katana to leave his hand. In the next moment, a sharp pain pierced his chest, his legs gave way, and a veil of mist covered his vision.
Saburo came to in a prison cell. The hastily bandaged wound stung terribly, sending paralyzing pain throughout his body. Making an incredible effort, the Taosian raised his head and looked around. His single pupil, having grown accustomed to the gloom, surveyed the dirty little room with walls cracked from age, separated by a narrow iron grate from a dark corridor, at the end of which lit lamps hanging along the walls flickered with an indistinct light. Finding no strength to stand up, the samurai with great difficulty slid to the floor and crawled to the grate, clutching it with his hands.
—Adilika... Adilika! —the weak whisper changed into a desperate call. —Adilika, answer me, are you here? —but the nearest cells answered Saburo's call only with empty silence.
After a few minutes, heavy footsteps were heard on the stairs from the far end of the tunnel, and then the plump figure of a guard in light armor appeared. —What are you screaming for? —he addressed the samurai sternly. —Your girl is here, don't panic. At first she was thrashing in hysteria; we had to quiet her down, but don't be afraid, she'll recover by the time of the sentence.
—How dare you touch Adilika, you scum? She did nothing to you! I am the one to blame for everything here, I am a deserter, I am a killer, let her go! —the Taosian would not relent.
—Bla-bla-bla. —the guard yawned, turning toward the exit. —But in one thing you are right. —his last words reached the samurai's ears, striking him like a bolt from a clear blue sky. —That it is solely your fault that you brought her with you.
—Yes... —Saburo whispered, leaning exhausted against the wall. —I am to blame for everything. Forgive me, Adilika. I must... apologize to you.
—Yeah, execution tomorrow. —this time anxious notes were felt in the guard's voice, and the man in a gray cloak with wide sleeves following beside him radiated a true stream of negative energy. —We, meaning, almost never have prisoners in this backwater; it's a quiet place here, you understand. But this time, you won't believe it! They caught a fugitive deserter-killer and his girlfriend. Yes, that same one. And this one is here. —approaching the cell, the guard tapped the iron bars with his boot. —Hey, you there, not dead yet?
—You won't live to see it. —Saburo whispered weakly, casting a blank gaze toward the legionnaire and his guest.
—Very good. —the stranger whispered gloomily, as if every word were given to him with great effort. —I am taking them.
—But... —the guard wanted to say something, but froze mid-sentence.
—I've already discussed everything with your chief, and he immediately gave his consent. Why do you need these problems? Hurry up.
—Eh... but, hm, well an order is an order, indeed, that happened. —the death-seeker agreed reluctantly, turning the key in the rusty lock. As soon as the cell door opened, Saburo rushed rapidly toward the exit, knocking the guard off his feet and surging forward down the corridor. In the next moment, the samurai's head suddenly spun, and he collapsed exhausted to the ground. The approaching legionnaire rained a hail of blows upon the Taosian, after which he whistled for his comrades to bring shackles from above.
—Look at him, how sprightly. You'll have to forgive us, it happens; now he won't be running around. Sure you can handle it yourselves? Well alright.
—Adilika... —the samurai whispered weakly, fighting the surging weakness. —Forgive... me.
He met the Tilian again in the cages for test subjects in Ishanad, where the living and dead, sick and crippled were thrown indiscriminately, as any biomass could be useful to sorcerers in their insane experiments. The girl's body was disfigured by experiments; she could not move independently and spoke with difficulty. Saburo, having endured torture in Suentan, fully realized the hopelessness of the situation they were in, but continued to tell her that they would definitely find a way out and escape. He said this more for himself, and over time these words saturated with hope became a habit for him. He spoke so as not to withdraw into himself and not let the voices of a maddened mind gain the upper hand over him. He spoke so as not to allow his beloved to fall into gloom and despair. He spoke because it was the last thing he was still capable of.
After another failed experiment, Saburo lost his second eye and right hand. In fact, it is quite likely that his internal organs had also long since been turned into a bloody mash, but he could only vaguely guess this from his own sensations, and unceasing physical agony became a habitual state for him.
—Hey, Adilika, are you here? —the samurai whispered weakly, waiting to hear an answer. —Do you remember how we first met? What a funny situation that was! You really surprised me then.
—Really, Saburik? —such a familiar, dear voice was heard right in the Taosian's ear. —It was so fun, wasn't it?
—Yes-yes, very fun! —the samurai mumbled stumbling, warding off the surging drowsiness. —And do you remember what you told me afterward?
—Of... course. —after a few minutes Adilika whispered. Even simple phrases were now difficult for her.
—Remember I promised you that I could take all your misfortunes with me? Forgive me. —the samurai added sadly. —I was wrong. I couldn't keep my promise. And I brought even greater troubles upon you. Forgive me, Adilika. It would have been better if you had never met me. —the Taosian wheezed weakly.
—How stupid you are, Sabu... —the Tilian unexpectedly answered. —Do you really not understand? You gave me two years of true happiness, more joy than I've experienced in my whole life.
—Happiness?
—Yes-yes, happiness! —the Taosian felt the tender touch of a female palm on his cheek. —You gave me the chance to love and be loved! You gave me a bright life! You gave me a meaning of existence! And even now I am happy that I can be here with you, now, in this moment, in this minute!
—Really? —Saburo whispered without understanding.
—You don't believe me again? So funny. You are the first, Saburo, who kept his word. You are my lucky talisman.
—In that case, so are you mine, Adilika. How warm it is in the soul, do you feel it? As if all the pain vanished somewhere far away in an instant, leaving only a feeling of half-slumber. Will you forgive me if I nap for a little bit? —with his remaining left hand, the samurai tightly squeezed the Tilian's hand.
—Of course-of course, Saburik! —her fading voice was heard through sleep. —And I'll sleep here instead with you! And then we'll meet again, somewhere else, right?
—Of course, we'll meet. I will wait for you there. —Saburo thought, and his exhausted face lit up with a happy smile for the first time in a long while.
Whatever