Time Of Traitors

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Time Of Traitors

By: Athena Updated just nowFantasy

Language: English

Chapters: 44 views: 3.4K

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Wild Taiga, a land of barbarians and legendary monsters that people can only believe in. A great place for those who want to get lost, and Cres would really like to be forgotten about forever. At the other end of the boundless Taiga, the mysterious Alchemist is hiding, the only one who can return the lost mind and future to Kres' beloved. But on their heels are hordes of drovers, thirsting for revenge for what the fugitives dared to do. And take away the key that can open the long-awaited hunt for those who for many centuries have been confident in their immortality.


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Latest Chapter
44 chapters
A bell rumbled from the side of the cathedral square, announcing the end of another day. People - living and dead - involuntarily added a step. A prickly drizzle charged, and the outlines of the houses blurred, floated along the dirty streets. The first peals of thunder rolled along the horizon - a storm was promised.The coming October tirelessly undermined the day. Early winter breathed after him, which, hand in hand with toothy winds, brought people of various occupations under the roofs of the city: pilgrims and merchants from the East, fallen maidens and gypsies, preachers and predictors of the Third End of the World, breters and mercenaries, merchants of holy relics and Lords of iron - many, many rogues that the Saved Kingdoms are so rich in.Among these waves of playboys, Cres walked invisible. His tall figure under a fur hat flashed in the dim rays of the setting sun. His path lay along black pits, on the site of which there was once a great number of haunts - until recently B
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Whispers and gnashings immediately returned, something heavy and clawed began to stir and jump around the corners. Cres picked up a kerosene stove from the table in the hope of dispersing the villains in their holes, or at least to understand who he would face. Only puppet eyes still protruded from the gloom, as if stars were winking from the bottom of a well.Cursing all the Khamers and their mothers, Kres found with difficulty the ajar door hidden behind the desk. Behind it, a low corridor, more reminiscent of an earthen hole, stretched like a snake. At the end, there was a tiny strip of light on the floor. Closing the door tightly behind him, Cres walked straight towards it. A frightening rattle breathed into the back of the head, which did not even think to calm down. The floor suddenly wobbled like the deck of a ship, nearly knocking Cres off his feet. The boards creaked under heels, pressed in and cracked, clinging to the sole with nails. The dark tunnel stubbornly did not want
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He threw the whip over his shoulder and dragged his beloved on a leash, burrowing deeper and deeper into the Wild Taiga. The road was left far behind, and only serpentine animal paths led away from the past life - to the country of barbarians and legendary monsters, in which people can only believe.Ada's arms were tied behind her back, a noose was pulled around her hips, as if she were a sacrificial lamb. The girl kept trying to break free and run away. Why and where - she herself did not know, she was driven only by fear and madness. Both were reflected in her eyes like two bright stars, in pairs: first one, then the other.The horse was left to rot on the road a day ago. A good horse: she retreated under him for three years, not knowing fatigue and fear. Not knowing pity for enemies. Not knowing the pity of the owner. Cres heard the growing terrible rales clearly, but for some reason he did not slow down, but kept urging the animal on with the steel stars of his spurs, glancing aro
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For some time the Prisoner could not recover his breath from fear, while his weakening heart trembled in his ears, and his nerves cracked and torn like rigging aboard a ship dying in a storm. He got up on shaky legs, but could not stand it and sat down on a straw bed, the only object in the cell besides the stinking pot in the corner. The prisoner tried to detach himself from the world around him so that these frightening sounds would leave him alone. But with each new step of the shod boot, the frail body on the floor was shaken by a new wave of panic fever, thoughts jumped more and more frantically - from the past to the future and back, the mind refused to admit that its turn had come. The prisoner tried with all his strength to drive reality as deep as possible inside, but it pressed with a vengeance.The prisoner crawled away from the door, dissolved in darkness, pressed his cheek against the cold stone. Even though the walls are lined with scratched cobblestones, behind them one
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And her, too, to Senches and his wives, living and dead. Cres turned and walked back.Ada was still sleeping sweetly, covered with a cloak with her head. Cres took time to push his beloved and decided to do warm things. The bag contained a jacket, a pair of holey mittens, and pants heavily moth-eaten. Not God knows what, but it could hardly have been better. At least Kres no longer risked his trousers, and that's not bad.Clutching his clothes to himself, he turned around and froze - Ada was sitting on the floor and rubbing her swollen eyelids.…Good morning my love. Breakfast is ready. And you?I secretly hoped that this time I wouldn't have to drag you by force. Maybe today you will open your eyes and look at me with that old look?Yes, that would be nice.Today I won't have to shove bread into you piece by piece, fight for every new step, drag you in my arms, fight until you stop screaming and biting?It's the same game, silly.Today is not that terrible day when I will again be f
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Enough of these games, dear. Your cat is tired.There was nothing he could do now, he had to move on if he did not want to wander around this place in the dark. Then Cres quickly gathered the remaining things and threw a bag over himself. He dragged the saddle into the house and plugged it deeper from prying eyes. The thing is expensive, but it was impossible to carry the girl and carry this thing with you.With great difficulty, he managed to put the girl on his back and rise, holding her by the calves - Ada did not even flinch. It weighed a little more than the saddle left behind - his eternal thin man on water and bread was losing weight very much every day, and the road promised nothing but sweat and tears. A couple more careful steps and he was more or less used to the new burden. It seems to work, if only the boots would not fall off her thin ankles and then they would not have to come back for them.They went deep into the unknown, and the days were intensely followed by days.
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Suddenly, the ground beneath him rushed away, and Cres rolled head over heels into the ravine. From the wet and cold ground, there was no longer any reason to curse the white light. He is tired.The wound was driving him crazy - he felt it, just to the left of the navel. At every wrong move, the flesh groaned as if it had been torn with iron hooks. Soon the composition will begin to operate, and then Kres will be able to rise - wait a little more and he will immediately go on.... until the pain in his eyes peered into the inaccessible sky. High above, blue stars blazed above the sweeping paws of the refs. The strength to rise went to look for the sun.Soon the pain really receded - through the body, from the top of the head to the tips of the fingers, grateful warmth spread. Immediately, a pleasant drowsiness pressed persistently on the eyelids, whispering a long-forgotten lullaby into my ear. Cres took a deep breath, thankfully free of the hot cage that tentacles of pain had encased
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They were alone, far from Ada, and that was the most important thing. Cres threw back his head - hooked branches scratched the sky. The tree was tall, climbing it would not be difficult for a stubborn boy who just wants to survive.Bosorka, crouching with her stomach to the ground and raising her ass like a cat, slowly approached - she hoped to finish him off with one movement, and then play enough.He jumped, completely forgetting how seriously injured he was, and clenched his fingers on the first branch. His feet slid over the bark, but he held on, hauling himself up and clutching at another branch, gritting his teeth in pain. Another impossible move, and the yellow leaves covered him completely. Bosorka, either from hatred, or from the anticipation of an imminent feast, tore his throat for the whole district, cutting circles around the trunk. The beast was preparing to release his guts, and he would not have done anything to stop her claws, but the dirty nature still took its toll.
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“It's not too late to turn back…” she whispered in his ear.His sister was sitting in the back with her arms wrapped around his waist. From the saddlebags came a plaintive meow.- Well, I do not! Say goodbye to childhood, sis.Nitsiri Saret hit the horse decisively with his spurs. The crow under him balked and puffed, but obeyed the order, waving his thick mane. Behind were the cities and forests of the great Albia. Ahead was an unkind, ancient, dense forest full of monsters and ghosts.In farewell, Nitsiri raised his hand, fingers spread wide.– Why are you? Vikta snapped him up. - We're just for a couple of days ... You're not going to? ..“I’m going to,” Nitsiri nodded, guiding his horse past the guard tower. Soldiers ran out to meet them, rattling iron, but Sareth pulled back his cloak and showed the Ruby Blade in its ornate scabbard. A scarlet pommel and a guard of skillful work flashed radiantly - the key to all doors. The border guards hurriedly retreated, bowing their heads in
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- Ai! Enough! Or I'll roast you!It was hard to tell from her contented appearance that the threat had tempered her ardor, but the bird was done with the "greetings". Sareth, scratching the stung place, cracked his spruce branches and sank into his seat.- Did you find it? He raised an eyebrow as he sheathed his blade. Alas, not everything in this life can be solved with a swing.The raven grunted in response, poked its feathered beak like it was in a pocket, and tossed a small black leather-bound notebook into Sareth's lap. He croaked again for warning and jabbed his beak at the cover - extremely persistently.“I know, I know, don’t croak…” Sareth muttered, turning the yellowish pages. The bird stared at him with its bright topaz eyes as the nitsiri entered phrase after phrase into his notebook.Decided to start as friendly as possible:Good evening. In the woods. Chimera is close. How is the weather?The answer was not long in coming:The clouds are gathering, - a threateningly dark
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