The Secret of the Dark Forest ( (The Way of the Shaman: Book #3) (47 page)

"The time of enmity ended long ago," came the girl's immediate reply. "Only one Siren and one Dragon are left in Barliona. What sense is there in destroying each other, if that would never bring back the former greatness of our races? On the contrary, we must unite, because now there are too many hunters intent on hanging our heads as trophies on their walls. The Dragon is young and inexperienced; the hunters will kill him. My task is to teach him to defend himself. Only later, when the danger is behind us, will we be able to settle scores originating in our ancient enmity, but not now. For the time being we have to work together."

I wasn't really getting what Anastaria was on about, but the words flew off her lips smoothly and without hesitation. I had the feeling that she’d prepared and memorized this speech in advance, and the time had finally come to perform it.

"I hear you, daughter of guile," smiled the Patriarch, " and I agree, others should not be allowed to destroy the last Dragon. I cannot dissolve his essence right now, but a time will come when all that will be left of the Enemy will be the man ... Mahan!" The Vampire turned toward me. "I take back the vassal's oath I gave to your ancestors. I will help you now, but after this Castle is destroyed a ransom will be laid on your head. Vampires, Cyclopes, Sirens, Titans, if any still remain in this world – I will call upon everyone. Although, no, I will leave you one Siren, who so fiercely came to your defense and ... yes, this will be interesting ... Plinto!" The Vampire addressed the Rogue. "Look into my eyes!"

As if hypnotized, despite his amulet, Plinto came up to the Patriarch and their eyes met. I once again silently thanked Anastaria for getting us to switch on the cameras. The Vampire's red eyes started to emit bright white mist, which, like a living entity, started to stream towards Plinto's eyes. Once a bridge of mist formed between the player and the NPC, a red cloud appeared above the Rogue's head and started to circle clockwise.

"I agree," Plinto said for some reason and immediately a small tornado funnel of red mist started to descend toward my Fighter's head. "Aaaaah! Noooo!" As soon as the funnel touched the Rogue, a terrible scream of pain echoed through the torture room.

"Aside from the Siren," continued the Patriarch, once his eyes had returned to their usual red color and Plinto had turned into a bright red cocoon, blocking any sound, "there will also be a lone Vampire who will not hunt you: a Higher Vampire. A Dragon, a Siren and a Vampire ... if anyone told me ten thousand years ago that a clan like that would appear in Barliona, I would have drunk that sentient dry without further ado. Fools have no right to walk the earth. But now ... stop lying around on the ground, my son," he addressed the prostrate Plinto, the bloody cocoon now fallen from him. "There is much you'll have to be taught. I won't let you leave the Dark Forest for the next three months."

"I have obligations, father." Once up, the Rogue immediately bent to his knees before the Patriarch. "The Dragon helped me, so in the next year I will be by his side. A word of honor is worth more than life!" Yeah ... where was the world heading to if even Plinto dropped into a grandiose style of speaking?

"Enemy." After some thought the Patriarch turned to me. "My son has a lot of learning to do, as do you. At the moment he doesn't know how to use his newly acquired power, and if he were released right now, sunlight would destroy him in the course of a minute. I am prepared to buy my son out of your clan three months. Is it worth me making you an offer or is your mind quite made up? Clothing, jewelry, weapons," said the Vampire slowly, looking me directly in the eye. "You may choose anything you like for yourself and for your clan. Remember the ring that you transformed? I will give each member of your clan a similar item in exchange for Plinto's three-month absence. Do you agree?"

"Mahan! I think you realize what this means!"
A message from Anastaria immediately appeared in clan chat. "
Just try and refuse this deal. I'LL BURY YOU!"

"I will definitely have to be trained: there are enough new abilities to make your mind boggle,"
wrote Plinto.
"Imagine this: I can now drink players' blood, taking off part of their Energy, Hit Points and Experience! :) :) :) And how the heck did you get through the modification? That hurt like hell."

"No!" I shook my head, instinctively sensing the gaze of seven pairs of surprised eyes on me. "Plinto will stay as he is, without the ransom. If the alternative to training is him being incinerated by the sun every minute, I see no sense in limiting my Fighter. I decline your offer of items for me and my clan. They are expendable things – we will simply outgrow them and will have nothing to remind us of this moment. I doubt Higher Vampires are born every day. I would rather remember this as the day I declined the great gifts of my future Enemy. We will meet again and it is unworthy of a Dragon to destroy his foe with his own gifts."

"Anastaria, I have salt and pepper,"
typed Clutzer, once the torture room descended into silence.
"Eric and Leite will get the fire going and Barsa will find some rope. You get the grill. Shaman kebab is on the menu."

"You guessed wrong,"
she answered straight away.
"This evening I'll be expecting a thorough analysis of the situation and a list of potential reasons for refusal. Mahan, I'll be honest with you, I didn't expect you to give a speech like that. On a 100-point rating system, it would've scored 140. Rock on!"

"Just as noble as your ancestors," said the Patriarch slowly. "This will not save you from the hunt, Dragon!"

"I will not be hiding, Vampire," I replied in the same tone. "But you can help us. The Supreme Spirits of the Higher and Lower worlds said that you are the only sentient in Barliona who can tell us about Geranika's power. Your tale would be a worthy price for Plinto."

"Geranika's power? You are interested in the throne of the Creator's son? Well, I suppose I can tell you about it, but only after you free all my warriors. I don't have the ability to destroy the shadows – unlike you, by the looks of it. One good turn deserves another, Shaman!"

"And what about Plinto?"

"You've declined a reward for his presence in my castle," said the Patriarch with a nasty grin. "So now I'm dictating the terms. Free my warriors and then I will tell you about the source of Geranika's power." The Vampire smirked once again, waved his hand and the twilight of the torture room disappeared, changing to the sunlit square of the Castle of the Fallen.

"My son," came a voice from the mist into which the Patriarch transformed. "The sun will not affect you during this battle. Prove to me that I made the right choice."

"YOU DARED TO ATTACK OUR LORD?" Almost immediately after the Vampire's last words came the thundering voice of the General. "WE WILL DESTROY YOU!"

"I won't be able to freeze this crowd, even without the cool down," said Eric, somewhat at a loss, watching the huge multitude of Vampires, Mages and Elementals surround us from every side.

"I too can embody them only one at a time," muttered Anastaria as the eyes of the entire clan looked at me.

"For the next three days I'm still useless as a Shaman," was my immediate excuse. "You know well enough that ..."

"KILL THEM!" boomed the General's voice again and a great wave of mobs sped towards us with only one aim: to send us back to the Guardian's glade.

"Plinto, get out of here!" was all I had time to shout before a huge ice boulder pinned me to the ground. Something told me that Plinto must avoid dying at all costs before his training, so I tried to warn the Fighter. A pity I didn't quite manage it. My Life Bar flickered as it descended to zero, and I embarked on a thrilling journey of prisoner respawn, straight into oblivion. ...

Player Barsina has used the scroll of resurrection. Do you wish to be resurrected?

The pitch-blackness was broken by a bright green, almost acid-colored sign before my eyes. So this is what the resurrection process looks like for prisoners. ... Strange; how did Barsina manage to survive the fight? You can only resurrect outside of combat. ...

"I told you it would work," I could hear Eric's voice say. My eyes gradually regained focus and I started to look around. My surroundings were strewn with bodies of sleeping Vampires and Mages, and even the Elementals were floating peacefully above the ground. How did they manage to win?

"What did I miss?" I managed to force out of myself. All in all the resurrection process was far from pleasant. It made you slow, as if you still hadn't quite awoken yet: there was drowsiness and a strange apathy. I wanted to do only one thing right now: lie down on the ground and finish sleeping off the twelve hours that were allotted to me before respawn.

"Nothing major. We got rid of the Shadows, though we still got no Experience from them," said Clutzer.

"And the General?"

"He's lying about twenty meters from here. Sleeping like a baby."

"Right. So what happened here?"

"Oh! Today was Barsina's moment of glory," said Anastaria, making the girl look very embarrassed. I looked at the Druid, who lowered her eyes, mystified as to how she’d managed to save everyone. "Catch the video. This is worth seeing for yourself."

You have received a video from player Anastaria.

Duration: 5 minutes.

Do you wish to view it?

It was the first time I could see myself from the outside. As your ordinary everyday user of modern technology, I had many different holograms in which I was celebrating something with friends or family, and even several home-made holographic recordings, such as the time I was handed the 'Free Artist' certificate. But I'd never seen myself from outside within the game. All the videos that I’d edited when playing the Hunter had me behind the camera, so they had never actually featured yours truly. But now ... that was some quirky look I had. ...

* * *

"Mahan's gone!" shouted Eric, staring at a foot sticking out from under the boulder. Dammit!" We botched the ending!"

"Everyone stop!" Anastaria immediately commanded. "Our task is to free as many Vampires as possible! Eric, Leite, Clutzer, let's go! Plinto, the Shadows are on you. Barsa and I will heal. We’ll fight to the last! Barsa! I said we're healing! What the heck are you doing?!"

"Stacey, cover me!" came the Druid's shout. "I need ten seconds! I'll try a mass-cast!"

"I'll strangle that small fry," muttered Anastaria, glancing over the battlefield once more. There was the crowd of Vampires running towards the players; mountains of ice, fire, water and earth flying out of the hands of the Mages and the Elementals' bodies; and a small, petite Druid, her face turned to the sky, her arms raised and lips uttering a spell. One second, then another and the avalanche of elements overtook the unmoving girl. All Anastaria could do was throw a Bubble over Barsina at the last moment, extending her life by ten seconds.

"Yup, we botched it!" The words flew out of my Deputy's mouth as the Vampire that appeared next to her raised his sword. The Bubble was still unavailable for the next two minutes, so the girl had nothing to defend herself with and attacking the Vamp was pointless, since there were a hundred more behind him, hell bent on sending the players to the Grey Lands. Anastaria curled up, camera now pointing to the ground, and braced for the blow. A second went by, then another, but the Vampire was in no hurry to attack. Stacey lifted her head and stared, surprised, at the frozen world around her. Or, rather, it wasn't the world that froze, since the players could move just fine. Vampires, Mages and Elementals were the ones standing still. Even the enormous hulk of the General, who could be seen in the background, stopped moving. And then an even stranger thing began to happen.

The place where Barsina was standing became an enormous, four-meter-high mountain of wet earth and ice: the main force of the attack of the Mages and Elementals hit the Druid. Then the mountain started to shift in a strange fashion, like a volcano before an eruption. Stones and shards of ice began to fall off it, and then the top of the mountain opened, like the bud of a flower, revealing Barsina. Water was flowing down the dome of the Bubble, not causing the girl the least discomfort, but the Druid had other things on her mind. Constantly chanting some verses, which were very reminiscent of a song, the girl flew up several meters into the air. Her upturned head, raised hands – as if calling on some unknown powers –, the dark aura swirling around her and her constant muttering in some unknown language made the players tremble as much as they did before all the mobs. Anastaria shifted her gaze from Barsina to the nearest mob and then it all became clear: short grass, about four centimeters long, started to shoot from the ground and white drops began to ooze out of each blade and float up to the sky, like rain in reverse. As the drops touched the mobs, they were immediately absorbed, revealing the Shadows. The Paladin lifted her head and looked around: the radius of this glade covered about half of the Castle, half which now contained all the Vampires, Mages and Elementals of the Fallen ones.

"Plinto! I don't know how long Barsa can keep this up, so hurry up and dispatch the Shadows! Everyone else give him a hand! Damn!"

Judging by the picture, Barsina’s Life Bar was beginning to plummet rapidly.

"Hang in there, sweetie, please," came Anastaria's muttering as she immediately sent a healing onto the Druid. "At least a couple more minutes ..."