In the nearly cloudless sky over the Carpathian Mountains, a strange creature emerged. It flapped its massive, sleek wings, a deep, guttural growl rumbling from its jaws. The beast descended to the ground, landing before two men who froze in terror. Towering over them at about twenty-three feet, it gazed down with an air of superiority. It stood on two powerful legs, its sharp claws sinking into the earth. A bulky body was covered in gray scales that shimmered with a silver sheen, revealing two smaller, much shorter limbs tucked against its frame. The creature whipped its long tail back and forth, as if issuing a warning of danger.
But the most terrifying feature was its head—or rather, its three heads, each twisting on long, sinuous necks, resembling oversized lizard skulls. Elongated snouts, wide nostrils, and almond-shaped yellow eyes with horizontal black pupils stared down at them. A jagged, spiky crest ran from the back of each head down along its spine. The creature hissed menacingly, baring razor-sharp teeth and spreading its wings wide. Stepan swallowed hard, his throat dry, unable to tear his eyes away as he muttered under his breath:
“A dragon. And I’ve got no magic.”
As if it understood his words, the beast opened one of its maws and unleashed a blast of bright red fire. Mark dove to the ground, dragging Stepan down with him. The scorching flames roared over their heads and latched onto a tall fir tree. The green, prickly branches caught fire instantly, the tree erupting into a blazing inferno. Stepan recovered first, scrambling to his feet and bolting toward the forest. Mark followed suit, disappearing into the dense thicket of trees. The dragon’s ferocious roar shook the early morning twilight.
Stepan glanced at Mark and realized—this guy was his only hope for survival. Right now, the young man’s eyes didn’t look as timid as they had during their first meeting. Stepan couldn’t help but notice how much the kid had changed in just seven days. His mind drifted back to how it all began a week ago…
Back then, the moonlight had gently wrapped the earth in its embrace. A warm summer breeze played with the pine needles, weaving mischievously through the fluffy branches under which a real chase was unfolding. A nimble deer darted skillfully through the forest, but hot on its heels was a creature whose name was rarely spoken aloud, only whispered in hushed tones—a chuhaister.
He reveled in racing against animals, but the taste of victory was what truly thrilled him. He moved swiftly on his two legs, feeling free, weightless, and powerful in that moment. He dodged obstacles like fir trees and fallen logs with ease, and the steep climb up a hill only fueled his excitement. He wanted to test his limits, to push himself to the edge of his abilities. With light steps, barely touching the ground, he caught up to the deer and, leaping over a massive boulder, overtook the beast. Just a few more yards, and there it was—the imaginary finish line and the sweet victory he craved.
His blue eyes, which could see perfectly in the dark, narrowed and darkened. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit him, and tiny specks danced before his vision. The chuhaister didn’t stop, but he slowed his pace. In an instant, a blinding light flashed in his mind, conjuring a vivid vision. He saw a frail mavka—a forest spirit—being mercilessly sent beyond the veil of this world. For him, this was routine, mundane even, and it didn’t stir any surprise. But what caught his attention was a dark-haired young man watching the scene unfold. Horror and fear reflected in the guy’s brown eyes. Average height, unremarkable build, sharp cheekbones—nothing about him screamed “future protector.” Yet the chuhaister felt a distinct call, a certainty that this was his successor, the one to whom he must pass on his powers. Behind the timid young man lurked another mavka, and the chuhaister knew he had to protect the boy from her.
The images flashing through his mind obscured reality, and before he knew it, the chuhaister felt a jarring impact as his body slammed into something solid. The vision vanished, and he realized he’d crashed into a slender fir tree, splintering it on impact. The tree toppled with a thunderous crash, knocking into neighboring trunks. The chuhaister came to a halt, inadvertently conceding victory to the deer.
Stunned and breathless, he struggled to steady his breathing and return to the present. He’d always known this day would come, but right now, he needed strength to subdue the air spirit. Yet it seemed that task would fall not to him, but to his successor. In his mind, he searched for ways to delay the inevitable transfer of his powers to the chosen one. From now on, his mission was reduced to preparing and passing on his abilities. In just a few days, he would no longer be a chuhaister; he’d become an ordinary human, doomed to a quiet, mundane life. For now, he had to follow the call and find this frightened young man. The search needed to start immediately. With a heavy sigh, he transformed into a whirlwind, vanishing into the pine forest, continuing his journey as a gust of wind.