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Chapter 104: A Heart\'s Return

5 wolf pups nurse of their mom\'s arms, a peaceful sight.

in the meantime.

"...."

Vikir watched the female wolf nurse her puppies.

A black ball turned into wedged among the squirming puppies.

The egg of Madame Eightlegs. It seemed like a massive black pearl, however it become clean and tender to the touch.

Vikir had been looking to get the wolves to keep this egg for the beyond two months, just in case.

but the wolves\' warm temperature and care hadn\'t made any distinction to the egg.

The handiest aspect that has modified is that the newborn dogs preserve nibbling at the soft, fluffy egg and smearing it with their saliva.

Vikir found out that similarly experiments with Madame\'s eggs have been needless, and he prepared to embark on his long journey yet again.

returned to the Empire. And lower back to Baskerville.

The return of the Ironblooded Hound.

It changed into time to return to where he got here from.

while Vikir announced his departure from Balak\'s village, no longer only did Balak\'s warriors send envoys, but so did all of the close by tribes.

Aquila did not prevent Vikir when he declared his purpose to leave. He become no longer a slave, so why forestall him?

when you\'re family, you\'re continually own family, and even if you\'re separated by way of brilliant distances, your ties develop stronger, no longer weaker.

but, Aquila invited the envoys from each tribe who had accumulated to bid Vikir farewell and held a grand dinner party to decorate the celebration.

every body on the dinner party loved and revered Vikir.

but nobody said "see you" or "see you again" to him.

"There are not any such words inside the Balak language."

Aquila didn\'t even say whatever to Vikir approximately searching ahead to their next assembly.

"See you again" does no longer exist inside the Balak language.

They believe that when a courting is shaped, it\'s far in no way damaged, and that it transcends time and vicinity.

They had been together even if they had been aside.

That\'s why they don\'t expect to say goodbye.

Aquila spoke to Vikir in a heat voice.

"\'whenever and anyplace you are. you\'re a Balak hunter. And you are part of our family. consider that."

Vikir turned into silent for a second.

For some purpose, he felt some thing warm and ticklish stirring in the inner most recesses of his chest.

For the first time, a sense of belonging settled in Vikir\'s coronary heart that he hadn\'t felt in every other area considering that his return.

It become nearly as though leaving Depht and returning to Baskerville became like leaving home and going to a peculiar location.

Aquila continued.

"you are a proud Balak warrior, and a hero to all of Dephts. in case you are in problem, we can help you to the fine of our capacity, no matter in which you are or who you are up against."

It wasn\'t simply the warriors of Balak who answered to Aquila\'s phrases.

all the local tribes of the Depht, from the shamanic Rococo to the berserker Renaissance, cheered Aquila\'s phrases and encouraged Vikir.

"Our hero, name us whenever, we\'ll come for your useful resource!"

"consider us from time to time! we love you!"

"terrific, Vikir! cross lower back and take over the empire!"

"can also the direction of a hero be packed with only blessings..."

maximum of all, the young men of Balak, with whom I had cried, laughed, and slept for the beyond two years, have been the most sad to look Vikir move.

Ahun was the worst of all. He was reduced to tears.

He thumped his chest like a gorilla and shouted.

"Vikir, you could come returned every time! We\'ll be right here waiting for you! And if you have any troubles, you can constantly call us!"

"Brother Vikir. you have to write to me frequently, you need to, or else I\'m going to...."

Beside him, Ahul, who had grown lots taller by using now, looked at Vikir with a moist gaze.

She passed the departing Vikir a lunchbox wrapped in leaves, having grown so much within the past years that she should hardly ever be taken into consideration 15 years old.

internal changed into a skewer of creamy caterpillars, a precious food.

Vikir\'s dry smile curved the corners of his mouth.

He couldn\'t don\'t forget guffawing a great deal before or after his regression, however right here in Depht, he laughed a lot.

He had laughed greater in 4 months right here than he had in 40 years in his preceding lifestyles.

"Farewell, Vikir, our hero!"

without a \'so long\', the soldiers of Balak wave to Vikir with a mixture of leisure and remorse in their eyes.

and then.

Vikir left the depht he have been keen on in the midst of anybody\'s farewell.

....

...No.

now not they all.

Vikir searched the gang for a face, but by no means determined it.

Aiyen.

For a few motive, she hadn\'t shown up in town on account that she\'d heard Vikir say he become leaving town.

She didn\'t even show up for Vikir\'s farewell ceremony.

every body turned into puzzled due to the fact she normally followed Vikir anyplace he went.

"...it is able to\'t be right."

Vikir stood outside the village, glanced returned at the empty Aiyen barracks, and stood there for a few seconds.

Then he turned on his heel and walked faraway from his beloved Balak village.

His steps inside the route of the border of the depht were vulnerable for the primary few steps, however then they began to pick up steam.

It\'s simply time to go home now.

* * *

Vikir soon left the brink of the depht.

standing on a high rocky peak, he could see a acquainted castle ahead.

The red fort.

It became a mining castle constructed via the mages of Morg, to mine the rubies of crimson axe Mountain.

large earthen partitions, wooden fences, and stone homes rose crudely however majestically.

It had reputedly been hardened over the last years to keep the natives at bay.

A land of countless veins of purple ruby, with darkish clouds gathering in swirls above.

The panorama nonetheless bathed within the ominous hues of red and black.

"...still mining rubies?"

Vikir walked slowly closer to Morg\'s castle.

He become returning after years.

abruptly, he remembered the face of Morg Camus, the previous head of the area. turned into she nevertheless there?

If she had grown up well, she could be a mature woman now, seventeen years antique and properly within the marriageable age.

however that become the life of a cordinary noble households, and a Camus born into the noble society of Morg was quite distinctive.

\'So, when are you entering the academy? allow\'s preserve up with me. I\'m probable going to get early admission by way of a 12 months or two. it would be a lot amusing if we can be first years together....\'

, I remembered how years in the past, she had accompanied me around and nagged me.

"Did I inform you that i was deliberating applying for early admission to the Academy?"

years ago, whilst she was 15, she had already said that she changed into considering early admission to the Academy, so maybe she changed into already there.

\'You must have forgotten approximately me.\'

At 17, you\'re a grown up.

An eight-year-vintage overwhelm might be not anything greater than a shy, fading memory.

Vikir smiled dryly and headed out into the desolate tract. The wind blew thru the cotton fields.

... just then.

"hiya, slave!"

A voice known as out to Vikir from behind.

Turning his head, Vikir saw a silver-black-haired, pointy-eared girl, just became nineteen, gazing him.

Aiyen. She stood together with her lower back to the cotton wind, her eyes purple with tears.

"Are you going?"

"...."

"in reality?"

Aiyen asked in a deep voice, and Vikir answered with silence.

Then Aiyen stepped in the front of him.

" ... if you\'re going to move, take this with you."

Vikir\'s eyes widened as he saw Aiyen attain out a trembling hand and deliver it to him.

"!"

It changed into a big bow. It was a black bow with a dark light throughout it.

A giant bow that Adonai had used in the past.

there was even a bowstring that had in no way existed.

Vikir realized that the white, hard string on the black bow changed into crafted from the tanned silk of Madame 8-Legged Spider\'s internet.

The identical hard spring from which Madame had made and stored her webs had emerge as the string, making the black bow a complete unit.

\'Anubis\', the most powerful bow in Balak\'s history, has finally regained its best form.

\'... I\'m sorry I\'ve been lacking all this time making it.\'

Vikir notion to himself as he looked down on the Black Bow.

... Thud!

Aiyen puts some thing round Vikir\'s neck.

A small black necklace.

it\'s far a choker, an item crafted from the tough disguise of an oxbear.

This oxbear became the first catch Aiyen and Vikir had made collectively.

Aiyen positioned the necklace round Vikir\'s neck and spoke in his native voice.

" ... Don\'t ever allow move of this issue. anywhere."

"Understood."

Vikir nodded, then seemed down at Aiyen.

Aiyen looked returned up at Vikir.

"...."

"...."

Their positions have changed loads in the beyond years.

when they first met, Aiyen looked down at Vikir and gave him orders.

Now, it\'s Aiyen who can slightly make eye touch with Vikir.

She become a head taller than him then, but now she\'s a head shorter.

Vikir, who had grown an awful lot taller, became to Aiyen and stated.

"You\'ve gotten lots shorter."

It was her very own funny story, her very own code for breaking the ice.

but Aiyen didn\'t respond to such lame jokes.

simply.

Mmm.

She walks in with a quick stride.

Pow!

A fist lands on Vikir\'s belly.

Vikir, who became hit inside the stomach out of nowhere, swallows a groan and bends over.

... Thud!

Aiyen at once grabs the choker around Vikir\'s neck.

the subsequent thing you already know, Vikir is being dragged ahead through the leash in Aiyen\'s hold close.

after which.

"...!"

the moment whilst Vikir, bent on the waist, and Aiyen, choker in hand, are precisely the equal top.

Their lips met at the precise equal peak and pressed collectively.

....

A 2d, like an eternity.

How much time had surpassed.

Aiyen pushed hard in opposition to Vikir\'s chest.

She grew to become her again to Vikir, who had stopped respiration.

"... ... see you again."

It turned into nevertheless a less than perfect imperial language.

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