Word of my escapade got out, and I was punished once again. My father didn’t strike me, but the way his face turned green with rage made me think he was close to it. Of course, I kept my encounter with the wolfgar a secret, but from that day on, I began to see him often in my dreams. I saw him racing through the forest, saw him grown into a man with a sword in hand, that playful smile on his face, and those burning eyes.
My father and Skiff started watching me even more closely, and the sweet taste of freedom came to me only in dreams. In reality, I was surrounded by nothing but route maps, the study of ancient runes, and the art of combat. Skiff diligently and stubbornly taught me how to defend myself and kill. Only he didn’t know that I had no desire to kill wolfgars, though I couldn’t even explain to myself why. That meeting with Alisher marked the beginning of my unique perspective on this mysterious and dangerous race. They weren’t the monsters I’d been told they were—that much I understood. Because that wolfgar boy had saved me. And that meant they had a right to live!
Later, my dreams became filled with other nameless monstrosities. I would wake up with a heavy sense of loss and terror, drenched in tears and cold sweat. These were the creatures to fear! I saw them emerging from beneath the earth, becoming a threat to humans and, in time, to the wolfgars as well. But I continued to suffer through these horrifying nightmares alone, still too afraid to confess my gift, terrified that I’d be tormented even more, and then my hope for freedom would be snuffed out entirely.
Only once did I dare to openly rebel and try to stop my father from embarking on yet another expedition, because I had seen... his death. But... he wouldn’t listen, irritated by my persistence.
“Tara, what’s gotten into you?! What’s with these sudden foolish whims? I can’t stay. I must go. Toric has gathered a large band of warriors, and I have to lead them through the Stone Labyrinth to set up an ambush on these beasts that seemed to come out of nowhere!” My father, as always, glared at me with his faded eyes, putting on an angry expression. Stuffing his travel bag, he continued to grumble discontentedly, “A new threat looms over us. Our people are in danger, and we can’t just sit idly by. People are dying by the hundreds! You’ve heard about this, haven’t you? For some reason, they’ve been called digons. As far as I’m concerned, they’re vile, bloodthirsty beasts! The sooner we assemble our forces, the easier it’ll be to crush this plague.”
“They came from a tunnel they carved under the northern mountain range. These monsters are incredibly dangerous, Father!” I exclaimed passionately, grabbing his wiry arm. “You’ll die if you lead the band there! I know it, I had... a vision!”
My father froze, mouth agape, then furrowed his brow more deeply than usual.
“I’ll talk to you when I return, and you’ll explain where these crazy fantasies of yours come from, Tara!”
Ten days later, the miraculously surviving remnants of the warriors returned. They brought grim news to Criland—my father was no longer among the living. I didn’t break down in grief, as I had spent those days preparing myself for sorrow. After all, I had seen with my own eyes how the digons killed my father, long before it happened. The only thing that tormented me deeply was that I could have stopped them, but clearly, I hadn’t tried hard enough. So I resolved to no longer hide my visions and to reveal the presence of my gift to everyone.
Now, I became the sole guide. And just like that, the way people treated me changed in a strange way. It was as if they finally noticed me, rejoicing with excitement that the connection to other settlements wasn’t lost, that a guide was still with them. I was brought into the light, acknowledged as having the right to an independent existence, though for some, showing full respect to an eighteen-year-old girl was too difficult. And so, I was reborn for Criland a second time, emerging into public view almost as an adult, having to meet nearly everyone face-to-face.
But the freedom that crashed down on me nearly crushed me with its excess of interaction and attention. Amidst this bustle, I suddenly began to feel a wave of irritation and anger rising within me. After all, this freedom was an illusion. I was still bound by duty and obligations. Criland continued to hold me captive, no matter where I went.
And so, the moment came again when I longed to escape, to transform into a bird and soar beyond the fortress walls, into the open, to the wind, to the swaying grasses of the plains. To see the fiery sun at dusk and stand all night beneath a canopy of stars blazing above. But all of this, of course, was out of reach for me. Because at night, the stars belonged to the wolfgars, and in the open, digons could lurk at every step. These vile creatures, two-legged bat-like monstrosities the size of a grown human, fed exclusively on the bodies of those they killed. In agility and strength, they were no less formidable than the wolfgars. Digons overwhelmed with their numbers, attacking in groups, ferociously wielding their dagger-like claws, enveloping their victims in acidic vapor from their stinking, ravenous maws. These beasts were undeniably powerful, and this scourge began to worry even the most seasoned warriors. People started living in constant fear. Jokes and songs fell silent, replaced more and more by the wails of widows and mothers of the fallen. And for some reason, my visions became increasingly blurred, forcing me to rack my brain over new riddles. Perhaps now my fate was still undecided, and it depended solely on me what images would emerge in my subconscious.
“Tara, I need to have an important conversation with you,” said Elder Dorian, who often visited my father’s house. Today, he came to see me personally. As always, he was unhurried and portly. His influence in Criland was beyond question. Dorian was the head of the council of elders and, in essence, the ruler of our settlement. His small, piggish eyes looked at me with concern. From time to time, he puffed out his cheeks, reddened by the frost, making his face resemble that of a well-fed boar. But today, for some reason, his appearance didn’t provoke suppressed giggles in me, and I already disliked what he was about to say. I didn’t know exactly what, but my instincts told me it wouldn’t be anything good.
“Tara, ... you know that a new threat hangs over our people, these digon beasts... even the issues with the wolfgars have taken a backseat. People are dying. Your knowledge is incredibly valuable, more than you can imagine. There are few good guides left, and you, in your own way, are probably the only one of your kind. ... I don’t know why Gregor chose to pass his knowledge to you instead of some capable young man. I told him, but he wouldn’t listen. No, no, I’m not diminishing your abilities, but you are, first and foremost, a frail woman. A man in your place could better defend himself. But be that as it may, it is now your duty to serve your people and obey their will.”
I listened intently to this preparatory speech, impatiently waiting for him to get to the point he was so carefully cushioning.
“The elders have decided, Tara. You must marry.”
A deafening, thunderous screech! This couldn’t possibly mean what it seemed to. ...Not this!!!
“What?!! Forgive me, esteemed Dorian, I didn’t hear you,” but inside, everything was already turning cold, and my knees began to tremble. The door to the cage threatened to slam shut again with a resounding clang.
“Tara, at your age, all girls get married. We will choose a worthy man for you, a valiant warrior. He will be your support and protection, accompanying you on the trails and through the tangled labyrinths. It is fitting for a girl to have a man’s shoulder beside her, a wise advisor whose words a woman must heed. This is our decision for you!” Dorian exhaled, and his sagging cheeks drooped onto his shoulders.
A suffocating darkness began to creep into my quarters, seeping through every crack, filling the space around me.
Ridiculous. ...
It can’t be!
“No!!!” I exclaimed sharply and unexpectedly. “I’ve spent so many years locked away, poring over maps, and now this—a new burden! The council has decided to assign me a new overseer?! I’ll decide for myself who and when I marry!”
“Who told you that?!” Dorian’s voice turned venomous. “You are under the protection and care of Criland! You belong to our people! And you have no right to defy our decision, especially since it’s for your own good!”
“I didn’t ask for such favors! I’m not a prisoner of Criland, I’m a free person, just like the rest of the villagers!” I continued to resist under his stern pressure.
“Once you’re under a husband’s watch, then you can negotiate your independence with him. There’s nothing for you to discuss with me! This decision is final!” Dorian barked, his massive, corpulent body quivering.
“Then I’ll go to Vislon! My mother’s sister lives in that settlement, she’s my only kin, and her word should be the last.”
“Don’t even hope for that, it won’t help you. Your aunt won’t go against the council’s decision. Be reasonable, Tara. Submission is a woman’s wisdom. I’m sure today you’ll think it over, and tomorrow you’ll want to know who we’ve chosen as your husband.” Dorian rose majestically, while I remained seated, glued to my chair, with a detached expression, digesting the “joy” that had so suddenly fallen upon me.
But as soon as Dorian left my house, I bolted through the back exit! Before the elder could issue any special orders regarding me, I had to make my escape from Criland, determined to fight for my freedom at all costs.
I chose a secret path through the Border Cliffs. My destination was Vislon. I had only seen my aunt once in my life. A gentle, kind woman, she was unlikely to support me, but it was still worth a try. Just not marriage! Not like this, and not now!
I don’t waaaant to!!!
There was no fear in me at all; on the contrary, I felt a childlike joy at having managed to slip away so cleverly. I moved relatively easily and almost silently, ears pricked for any sound. Diving into one of the grottos, I crawled through a narrow tunnel carved into one of the cliffs. In the rocks, the slightest rustle echoed through every stony nook. I remembered how my father often told me that in the mountains, you must become like a cold snake, silent and cautious. ... That’s all well and good, but unlike me, a snake had plenty of advantages—at least it didn’t have to wear these ridiculous hiking skirts!
At one point, the sounds of battle reached me! There could be no doubt—somewhere nearby, likely in the ravine, a skirmish had broken out. A wild roar, turning into a piercing screech, pointed to only one conclusion—the attackers were digons. The proximity of real danger made my mouth go dry—I had a chance to see these beasts with my own eyes. I moved faster. Whoever was fighting the digons, I was already on their side. One of the tunnel’s branches led to the ravine, where, on a small ledge among the rocks, our hidden observation post was located. I cautiously peered through a narrow crevice between piled-up boulders. ... Digons, six or seven of them, gray, hideous creatures, darted about chaotically and quickly, making it hard to count them at once. Opposing them were... wolfgars! And they were outnumbered. There was no mistaking that these were wolfgars, even from a distance: tall, lean, agile, wearing minimal clothing—only high boots, tight leather pants, and a shirt. Wolfgars feared neither heat nor cold, a problem only for humans. For these beings, the “hardships of life” had to be far more severe. They fought, of course, with astonishing beauty, their movements precise and calculated, dodging the long, steel-like claws of the digons with lightning speed. There were four wolfgars—three adults and one still a boy. I couldn’t help but watch, captivated by how selflessly, with what heroism, they fended off the beasts. Suddenly, a digon’s bulk loomed over the young wolfgar, and with incredible effort, one of the older ones shielded the boy. My hand instinctively reached for my weapon.
“Wolfgars aren’t our allies, but digons are the vilest creatures to ever appear in our world.”
From my hiding spot, arrows flew. I aimed for the base of the digons’ skulls, preventing them from exhaling their acidic vapor and giving the warrior a chance to exploit the creature’s confusion to finish it off.
One hit the mark! The next three arrows flew into the nape of a second digon, accompanied by its horrific screech. The wolfgars realized someone was helping them! Now they went on the offensive.
Two more digons fell. I loosed an arrow at the last one, and victory belonged to the wolfgars. To avoid becoming their next target, I quickly darted back into the tunnel, hoping to lose myself on the secret paths, but suddenly, a strong, commanding voice rang out behind me, pinning me to the spot.
“Tara, stop!!!”
“How does he know me?!” echoed in my mind.
“Tara!!!” the insistent voice repeated.
I froze in the darkness, torn by conflicting emotions. This was becoming intriguing, a bit frightening, but the wolfgar had called out my name. With a start, I decided to crawl back.
They must have leapt onto the ledge, because that was the only way to reach it so quickly. There they stood, all four of them.
Four wolfgars, and me, alone against them.
The tallest wolfgar warrior twirled one of my arrows in his hands. The muscular, dark-haired man smiled, his strange eyes glinting. I stared only at him, too afraid to look at the others. I didn’t know what would happen to me; my visions had become rare, fragmented, and no longer concerned me directly. So I had no hope of knowing for certain whether I’d die at the hands of the wolfgars right now or not. Unexpectedly, the wolfgar drew a dagger from his belt, brought the arrow to his nose, and spoke in a playful bass tone:
“A familiar scent, Tara!”
“Alisher?!” I exhaled in shock, finally noticing how curiously the other wolfgars were studying me.
“You’ve grown, little redhead,” smiled the now-matured Alisher. “And alone again? Haven’t gotten any wiser, or have you developed a death wish?”
“You’ve got a good memory, wolfgar. Was that bit about ‘not being a kind idiot next time’ true?” I tried to smile back, keeping a wary eye on the group. “Or maybe this time I’m here for a reason?” My voice was very quiet.
“So why did you decide to help us, Tara? Us... wolfgars? Why didn’t you just leave? You had a perfect chance to slip away!” His dark eyes flashed, fixing me with an intense gaze.
After a long pause, I shrugged:
“Digons are our common enemy. And why, all those years ago, did you help me, Alisher?”
Alisher immediately frowned in displeasure, trying to quickly ask another question, while the wolfgar standing beside him narrowed his unusual eyes, casting Alisher a questioning look from beneath the jet-black curls falling over his forehead. “This is the one who shielded the boy in battle,” I noted to myself.