Raven's Soul. Volume 1
Дарья Нестерук
Анна Морион
The heiress of the great Flammehav was forced to marry the one who nearly destroyed her kingdom. On that day, the bloody war between humans and demons came to a stop, and the great dynasty of Rossi surrendered its main "jewel" to the usurper in exchange for peace and the survival of the remaining lands. Raised in the heart of fire, the demon princess was cast into the cold winter storm of Kaldwind, her husband's kingdom.What awaits the Scarlet Flower? The love of a lifetime or certain doom in a foreign land?The first volume of "Raven's Soul" written by Anna Morion and Darja Nesteruk.Welcome to a world of magic, mystery, intrigue and dark secrets.This translation is made with DeepL Translate, so don't be too hard on us.
Анна Морион, Дарья Нестерук
Raven's Soul. Volume 1
PROLOGUE
The man condemned to death, shackled in heavy iron handcuffs and guarded by four armed knights, walked through the noisy crowd that had gathered in the square to witness his execution. The man's head was proudly raised and he looked at the townspeople with contempt in his red eyes. It was impossible to read a single emotion on his pale handsome face. He had no fear of death.
– Death to the demon! Kill him, and slowly! Burn in Hell, you devil's spawn! – was heard from all sides, but the one at whom these words were thrown like stones only grinned. These ignorant people and their bastards would soon regret rejoicing in this celebration. Rejoiced in his execution.
The demon walked towards his death with a slow stroll: there was nowhere to hurry. Eternity awaited him. His tall, manly figure, clad in tattered rags that had once been clothes, towered over the townspeople as an unshakable iceberg rises above the noisy waves.
– Here you are, you monster! – A woman shouted, and a small but sharp stone struck the demon's face, scratching his cheek.
But the demon only laughed out loud. He was laughing: at the people gathered in the square, at the executioner waiting for him on the platform, at King Derek watching the execution from a beautiful box specially made for this event, at the nobles surrounding his king, at the magician who caused his capture and imminent death. On themselves.
The humans were not as weak as he had previously imagined. His dark magic had no effect on them. The gift of Darkness could not save him from death. But death was his pleasure, because he knew what fun awaited those wretched humans after his head was cut from their broad shoulders.
– Do you have one last wish? – Shouted the king to him.
But the demon did not dignify him with an answer or a glance.
– Kneel," the big, burly executioner said in a loud bass to his victim.
The demon did not move.
– On your knees! – The executioner roared and struck the demon's leg with a huge boot with an iron toe.
The red-eyed beauty fell to his knees and laughed. A moment later, his head flew straight into the crowd, leaving behind a spray of red blood.
The people cheered.
The demon had been killed.
This windless, sunny day should have brought an end to the misfortune.
But none of those who had gathered to watch the execution knew that by killing the demon, they had incurred the wrath of a great enemy who would seize any opportunity to bring destruction and death to the people.
Chapter 1
– Your Majesty, there is a demon at the castle gate," Bergil said as he entered the king's chambers and bowed slightly.
Derek carefully ran his finger along the sharp blade of his heavy, broad sword, making sure it was sharpened properly, and then looked at his friend.
– Demon? – he grinned. – Another one? What brings him to us?
– He demands an audience with you," Bergil answered with the same grin.
– Demands? – The word made the king raise an eyebrow.
– Not just demands, but insists that you 'want' him.
– He does! – Derek laughed at that. – Well, that's a performance I don't intend to miss! Show him to the throne room.
– As chief of the guards, I must warn you of the possible consequences," Bergil frowned. – You know as well as I do what damned demons can do.
– I know, my friend, but rest your soul: from now on, the Devil's magic does not work here in Sturfjell or in all of Kaldwind. – The King put his sword back in its scabbard and added: "You're not used to the power of the White Talisman, are you?
– I remember the Talisman. Andrada did her best," grumbled the head of the guard. – But I did not know that all of Kaldwind was safe from those devilish creatures.
– My friend, you are the head of my castle's guard, and you should know everything that is going on around you," Derek smiled.
– My fault, Your Majesty. – Bergil bowed low, frustrated at his ignorance.
– Stop it," the king said to him briefly. – And I have told you many times that you may call me by my name in private.
– That's something I'm going to have to get used to. To the Talisman is fine, but after eight years in the service of King Juris, it's hard for me to call the king, that is, you, by his name.
– I may be king now, but to you I'm still the same Derek you fought alongside for eight years. Enough idle chitchat. Bring the demon to me: I'm curious," the king said as he approached his friend.
He bowed again.
– Whatever you say, Derek, but be on your guard.
– Without dark magic, demons are worthless. They're good mages, but they're not warriors," King Derek said mockingly, and headed for the throne room.
Bergil shook his head, disapproving of his lord's stubbornness and frivolity, for he had seen with his own eyes what Satan's own demon children could do. During its existence, the kingdom of red-eyed demons Flammehav crushed empires, killed millions of other creatures, greedily swallowed foreign lands and despised people for their weakness. Demons knew neither pity nor mercy and killed everyone who stood in their way, destroyed everything they saw fit to destroy. And why only Kaldwind – the kingdom of men had to be born here, on this land, in the neighborhood of Flammehav, whose inhabitants possessed the secrets of the darkest magic, which, according to rumors, learned from the Devil – their creator? It was the Devil who created these brats, for God himself weeps to see how many of his children have been killed by them.
"Oh, that Derek! He's strong as a bear, sure, but I'm still not leaving him alone with that demon. Let him not even ask!" – Bergil thought grudgingly as he descended the wide stone stairs into the courtyard.
– Give your weapons to the sentries," Bergil said rudely to the demon as he approached the strong iron gates guarding the way to the palace.
The demon grinned crookedly.
The demon wore neither armor nor helmet. He was dressed in a beautiful red coat, a snow-white shirt with a large black brooch around his neck, and black breeches. On his feet were tall red boots made of fine leather and decorated with gold patterns.
– Can't you see that I have no intention of killing today? – he said in a sarcastic tone that made Bergil's face flare.
The head of the guards gave the visitor a contemptuous glance: this red-eyed, black-haired demon was clearly mocking the people around him. On the beautiful face of the visitor could easily read the disgust, which, however, he clearly did not hide.
"I know what you hope for in case of conflict, you damn brat: your magic. But it won't hurt either of us this time, and it won't save your thin neck from my sword!" – Bergil grinned grimly.
– 'Follow me. And don't open your mouth until His Majesty addresses you first," he said curtly to the demon and, without turning around, strode quickly into the palace.
Still with the same crooked grin on his lips, the demon followed his guide. Despite his apparent disgust for the city of men and the men themselves, the uninvited visitor looked at his surroundings with his eagle eye and could not help but notice, albeit grudgingly, that perhaps the despicable men were not so poor and ignorant after all, since they were able to build such a beautiful but powerful palace on the inaccessible top of a high mountain, which was in the heart of the capital of Kaldwind – Sturfjell.
"It's cold here. Soon it will all turn to ruins and ashes. These bugs have no idea what awaits them in a couple of days," he thought contentedly as his leather boots tread silently on the light-colored stone of the palace. The demon was anticipating the destruction, fear and death that would soon reign in this kingdom of miserable mortals.
Bergil and the demon entered the huge, bluish-lit hall with impossibly high ceilings and large, beautifully carved stone windows of the throne room, the pride of the palace. King Derek, seated on a large, elegantly carved white stone throne, awaited the arrival of a strange, unexpected visitor who was so foolish and arrogant that he demanded to meet him as if Derek were not the king of a great, rich state, but only the headman of a small village. Despite his title, the king did not wear his simple iron crown, for he did not consider the insolent demon worthy of the honor of seeing him in the full splendor of his royalty. The king was dressed in a black, tight-fitting surtoute, brown leather pants, and tall black boots. Derek was twenty-nine years old and had been in power for a long time, but this man had not fallen slave to gold brocade, jewels, and luxury. Derek had not a shred of fear in his heart for the representative of the demon race, but in order not to make his best friend worry for his safety, he had at hand his broad sword, which he had skillfully wielded since the days of his youth.
– Derek Merkswerd! King of Kaldwind! – slowly approached the throne, the demon said loudly, and his voice echoed in the monumental high vaults.
– I told you not to open your mouth! – Bergil threw angrily at him and drew his sword from its sheath: he was tormented by his distrust of this arrogant demon.
– I was sent to you by my king, the Lord of the mighty Flammehav Lamar! – ignoring the shouting of his guide, the demon continued his speech.
– How dare you address His Majesty in the first name? – Bergil roared, but Derek only grinned at the insolence and made a hand sign to his friend to keep his temper down.
– King Lamar is interested in my humble person? – Derek laughed softly. – What have I done to deserve this honor?
– Soon your people will be slaughtered, your cities will be reduced to ashes, and your despicable kingdom will have no fertile land left, not even ruins, and its memory will be wiped from the face of Wakkerland! – The envoy spoke in a contemptuous, but even somewhat solemn tone, moving closer and closer to the throne of the king.
– Interesting! Go on! – Derek liked this performance.
– We demons will drink the blood of your children and rape your women!
– What grand plans! – the king said mockingly. – What is it about my kingdom that displeases your king?
– You killed his brother a month ago, and he will not forgive you for that. He will avenge the death of Daryal Rossi, and believe me, you wretched man, your puny mind cannot imagine the fate of your lands! – The demon grinned predatorily.
– Why not? You just intimidated me, and in great detail," Derek said mockingly. – So the poor murderer we executed a month ago was King Flammehav's brother? What an interesting coincidence!
"By the Almighty! What have we done!" – Bergil's mind was filled with flames, darkness and rivers of blood, while the screams of women and children rang in his ears.
The demon squinted his eyes: this wretched little man had the audacity to mock the fact that he had killed Daryal Rossi, and the picture of horror that he, Lamar's messenger, had taken such pleasure in painting for him?
– You and your people will pay for this murder! – he shouted angrily.
– Oh, I would love to see it," Derek replied calmly, and rising from his throne he drew his sword and strode toward the envoy as he watched him approach with a wry grin.
– Your people already hate you, imagine what will happen when they find out that it was you who condemned them to horror and death? – The demon asked in a mocking tone. – And the horror and death will come so soon and so suddenly that nothing will save you miserable creatures! But you won't see it, because your death has caught up with you now! – He thrust his hand forward to telekinesis his own sword out of the king's hands and cut off his master's head with it.
But Derek only laughed and came closer and closer.
Bergil did not laugh, but he was in no hurry to leap at the demon and kill him. He knew Derek was in no danger.
– You're relying on your devil magic, aren't you? – grinned the king. – Come on, try again!
Surprised by his failure, the demon did not hesitate and wanted to send a fireball at his opponent, but not even smoke came out of his palm.
– What is this curse? – he muttered, confused and not knowing what was going on. Where's the magic gone?
– I see you're surprised," the king said mockingly, coming closer and closer, and this time the demon didn't try to use his magic again, but deftly pulled a long, thin dagger from the sleeve of his coat.
– Stay back, you miserable brat! – The messenger hissed threateningly and slowly backed toward the door. He was stunned, but realized that, unable to use magic, he was in mortal danger.
– What was it? Is an all-powerful demon afraid of a pitiful human? So King Lamar sent one of his kin to kill me in revenge for the death of his criminal brother? – Derek asked with a raised eyebrow.
– If I don't, he'll tear you to pieces and give your remains to the dogs," the demon smiled wickedly. – My magic has no power here… I should have seen it when I couldn't read your mind, bug king… But I'm the one who will send you to Hell! – He suddenly shouted and lunged forward to stab his enemy with his dagger.
But the king was right: without their magic, the demons were worth little. Quickness, strength, and agility left the demon, and Derek's sword went deep into its chest. The dagger fell from his weakened hands.
– It's not… It's impossible! – The demon wheezed out its last breath.
– Go back to your ancestor, you bastard," Derek said quietly into its face, pulled his sword from its chest and cut off its head.
– War awaits us, Derek… War! – Bergil muttered and sighed heavily. It was as if a huge stone had fallen on his shoulders. A stone of knowledge that soon hordes of demons would attack the peaceful, defenseless people of Kaldwind.
