This time, Kangassk accepted Flavus’s offer to stay in his house for the night. When Reyne came to check on Flavus after her class had ended, Kan used all excuses he could think of to run away from her sad eyes full of pity and disappointment. She didn’t say a word but that look, it spoke volumes.
In a minute, Kan was on his way to his tent where all his belongings were. Yes, grabbing his things was his excuse; the short stroll from the fortress-like house to the grey tent was his escape.
He thought of lots of things while walking through the streets of sunlit Iven. Why did Sereg hurt him, for what reason? Was there more to it than him being mean? What did Vlada think of that? He could only guess she would never approve what Sereg did. Kangassk heard her song again in his mind, that clue to a puzzle he hadn’t yet found…
He was right about one thing, though: Vlada had not approved Sereg’s actions. In fact, those two had had a heated conversation about that while their apprentice was asleep.
“Why did you do that?” asked Vlada in a cold, cruel tone. “You had no right to make the choice for him.”
“I had my reasons,” was Sereg’s answer. He turned away from her eyes, black with anger, and looked South-East, through time and space. There, before his mind’s eye, the overgrown, crumbling ruins of the City of Tricksters turned into the colourful streets of Erhaben again. In the real world, the restless wind tore at his grey cloak and made his eyes moisten. Or maybe it wasn’t the wind… “I won’t let another Malconemershghan happen to Omnis!” he said firmly, as if he was swearing an oath.
“Oh yeah? Then go slaughter everyone who’s magical chalice is bigger than average!!!” Vlada shouted at him. “Go make your judgement… Inquisitor!” The last word she threw at him like a stone. A moment later she was gone, disappeared somewhere in the restless sea of grass...
The Grey Inquisitor turned away and put his hood on. There was no one to see the pain on his face and the tears in his eyes. He let the tears flow; two salty droplets rolled down his dusty grey cloak…
The key to happiness… oh, how long ago it had been lost!
Kangassk entered his tent and found himself in the middle of the chaos he had left there last night. His pocket dragon, frightened and hungry, made a desperate dash to Kan. The poor thing was so weak he couldn’t fly and had to run on all fours like a lizard. The nameless little beast was overjoyed to see his owner again. The dragonlighter licked Kan’s hands and squeaked miserably.
Kangassk, who had never thought much of his dragonlighter, felt his heart tremble now. He stroked the little one’s wings, sang him a song to calm him down, and dug up some dried fruit from his backpack to make him a quick snack. Once the dragon had eaten his fill, he fell asleep on a handful of dried dates. Kangassk snatched one for himself. As he was chewing on it, he contemplated what to do next. His excuse was grabbing some things so he couldn’t go back empty-handed. What should he take with him then? His sword? Wouldn’t it be rude to come to his friend’s house with a sword? Maybe not, the Brians are warriors, after all. What else? The dragon. That was a no-brainer; the poor beast had already almost died here alone, it would be cruel to leave him.
Finally, Kangassk’s glance fell on the grey tome Sereg had given him…
That was how he walked back to the Brians’ house: with his sword on his belt, his dragon on his shoulder, and the legendary book under his arm. Many Hunters looked at him with respect.
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