How precious is the night of spring! Many poets of Uniearth used to poetize this time of day in their ballads. Everyone, who had ever walked during nighttime, left a little room of happiness in his soul, which contained heavily protected memories about that precious period: someone loved bright horned moon, which poured its bright light through hardly-visible barricades of clouds; someone found stars heart-warming, which formed peculiar formations and constellations; someone, finally, simply thoroughly enjoyed fresh nighttime air and complete peacefulness, which had no signs of daytime haste. The frequent encounters of exhausted citizens of Uniearth were organized at nights, who lit large fires in their yards and told each other different stories, accompanied by a calm serenade of crickets, which played simple melodies with their "violin-legs". All difficulties, misfortunes and problems faded in that miraculous time — everything miraculously disappeared in Day's dark-eyed sister. Due to that very important quality, the sister had more popularity in the sinful world of humans rather than her bright and colorful brother. However, as the wisest say, "like an owner, like a house". This time, however, the night for the little border fortress-town turned out to be not very pleasant, because the owner wasn't so hospitable and respectful this time.
Illuminated with the dim light of the yellow half-moon, Tempestwind, rumbled and burnt to the ground, reminded of a big old graveyard, abandoned hundreds of years ago, rather than a glorious and impregnable fortress, the name of which was once known to the whole Uniearth. Once, yet before the hostile army's invasion, this northern border town had been the source of the human kingdom's power and strength: its impeccable walls, saturated with flammable mixture and resin, had been waking feelings of pride and glory, sense of might and splendor; wide watch-towers, bristled with sharp rows of ballistas and arrows, had been proudly rising over the walls, like enormous titans, which had been destined to stand against aggression and injustice. Now the ultimate pride of human kingdom was a huge scrapyard: spacious stone streets were "festooned" with the remains of destroyed buildings and thrown-away goods of robbed shops, mistaken for unnecessary garbage. The streets were patterned in red bloody prints, left from dead bodies of citizens and soldiers, who had been killed during the siege and then dragged by barbarian riders. There was no house left illuminated with lights — only nearly destroyed inns and bars, in which warriors of army of darkness drank alcohol and fought every night, poured dim yellow rays of light on the streets, mangled by furious catapult fire. Tempestwind was chosen for a resting place for the mighty hostile hoard to get ready for the decisive advance.
However something in the captured Tempestwind yet reminded pre-war times: only one two-story house, which was standing just on the suburban side of the military settlement, illuminated with dim campfire flashing, wasn't suffering either from rude exclamations of the drunk or irritating loud noises. For the unknown reason, thankfully to the incredible luck and Arese's grace, the house hadn't suffered severe injuries and had got off with broken windows and a tiny hole in the door. On the second floor of the abandoned nobleman's house, scratching burning wood, cracking from the warming fire with a rabble, a short grey-bearded old man was sitting, who was calmly observing, how uncontrollable fire element burnt gifted wooden fuel. Having covered himself with a bright red cape not to get frozen to death by freezing cold of the night, he time to time knocked the squeaking pine tree floor with his long alder stick, which looked more like a snag, pulled out of the marsh, rather than a mighty magic staff. His tough leather belt, tightened around his narrow waist, was full of different bulbs of different colors, which had peculiar potions inside; a large book of black magic was attached to his belt with metal chains, its cover had a picture of black river Styx, the water of which was full of shades of sinking souls. Dark mage's freckled skin reflected the light of the crippled fireplace; his bright green eyes, slightly covered by freckled eyebrows, continuously stared at hungry tongues dim blaze, which were meanly licking charred wood. Having silently murmured something, the old man pulled his hand to grab another log, when suddenly he witnessed a suspicious movement nearby. It seemed very strange to the wizard, so his reaction followed immediately: having dropped the rabble, covered in black ash, the mage clang to his staff and, having murmured a spell, illuminated the room with dazzling light. How surprised he was, when an anthropomorphic dragon, black as the night, appears right before him and instantly folded his wide torn wings. Having caught staring sight of two grinning orange snaky eyes, the old man heavily sighed, silently cursed the newcomer and dropped his staff, making the appeared dragon quietly burst into an evil laugh. When the old man shook his head and returned to picking the coals in the fireplace, the dark dragon shamelessly grinned with his sharp, like a razor, white teeth.
—Ah, nice to see you again, Deadlytooth,—the dark mage tiredly greeted his subordinate, continuing to stare into the orange flame of the fireplace.— Where's your brother I ordered you to lead here?
—Oh...—Deadlytooth grinned, having leaned on a nearby commode.—That dumb delicate cretin? As far as I remember, he was flying right behind me. Just at that moment, having flown into a hole in the ceiling left after heavy catapult fire, one more dark dragon appeared in the room, who looked nearly like Deadlytooth. Probably, it will be wrong not to say that both of the presented characters were twins — they were two dragons of the same like. The only difference between them lied in their eyes and wings: the elder brother — Deadlytooth — had bright-orange colored eyes, and wings were more tattered, while the younger one's — Rapiddeath's — eyes had bright yellow shade, and wings had neither scratches nor holes. Watching his brother reach the fireplace, Deadlytooth, having scratched the brick wall with his sharp claws, grinned and acidly greeted his relative:
—Well, hello, dear brother! Where have you been all this time?—Deadlytooth scratched his chin with faked thoughtfulness.—Ah, of course! You've tried to kill a bear again, haven't you? As far as I can judge by your scratches, the hunt went terribly successful!
Rapiddeath, having bristled his teeth in the hateful smile, answered nothing and silently turned away.
—Something wrong, huh?—Deadlytooth continued insulting, coming closer to his brother.—Did I hurt your feelings? Oh, I'm so sorry!—he clapped Rapiddeath on the shoulder and went on laughing.—I didn't know that my brother is so sissy!
—Shut up!—Rapiddeath snapped in reply and instantly attacked his brother, dropping him on the floor. Deadlytooth only smiled and burst into laughing, puzzling and making his brother even more furious: his eyes instantly flashed with fury, the heart started boiling with desperate hatred, and only sudden voice of the old man, which torn the silence of the night, forced both brothers to come into senses:
—That's it! Enough, you idiots! I don't want you to kill each other right before the end of the performance!—the wizard stood up and pushed Deadlytooth to the wall with his magic staff.—Have you forgotten our aim, Deadlytooth, or it's just your fucking stupid frills?! You're only two hundred years, and you want to say that you're suffering senior marasmus already?—having looked into scared eyes of the suffocating dragon, the mage continued:—Did you see what the united army of those damn kings did to our hoards?
—But that was just a small part of our armies...—Deadlytooth fearfully murmured.
—Do you really fucking think that it gives Hengerd a shit?!—Thaneorus exclaimed even more furiously, pressing the dragon in the wall. It was instantly covered with tiny cracks, which reached the ceiling in a blink of an eye.—How are you going to fight the living stones, which can't be harmed either with arrows and swords or claws and fire? Or you want to use your own teeth to crunch those damn granitic Giants to end your life like your brother Soulperisher, with torn away throat?!
—No, master Thaneorus...—Deadlytooth silently whispered, grabbing his neck, suffocating.
—Then listen carefully, goblin head,—the wizard said, having dropped his staff. Deadlytooth greedily inhaled, loudly coughing.—In the final battle, we are to summon the army of Kronos. That's not an easy task. The only one, who can beat them is Pendragon. The blades of his elite warriors are powered by the force of Zeus himself, but we all know that after the fall of Tempestwind and the siege of Eldoras there are no forces left at his disposal. That is why he fled from the capital, hoping to hide from the future defeat. So, please, especially you, Deadlytooth, don't behave like complete morons for even next couple of days, otherwise, you'll be left decomposing in the Keltherian ground after a golem squeeze you into a large bloody flapjack. You don't want this happen, do you?
Only dead silence was heard by Thaneorus in reply.
—I am terribly happy that there's still something clever left in your heads,— the old wizard said, having reached the hole in the bearing wall. Having sighed heavily and looked at the bright nighttime sky, he calmly continued:— Tomorrow, when the first ray of the dawn enlightens Eldotur, you both shall lead the army to Loriel. Burn every village on your way, every settlement must be destroyed, live none single person alive. Let Luminel know that soon his sacred lands will perish and turn to ashes. As soon as you reach Loriel, Grishnak, Luminel, Ulther and Hengerd will be waiting for you, so do not think that your crusade will be an easy walk. The legion of Tartarus will appear as soon as you reach the battlefield. Everything is clear?
—More than enough...—Deadlytooth unsatisfactory replied. Rapiddeath silently nodded.
—Good,—the old mage smiled.—And now — out of my sight! And don't you dare come back with defeat!
—Obeying your will, master,—the brothers obediently bowed and one by one flew out of the badly crippled building, heading towards the remains of the wall. Having traced two subordinates vanishing from the building, Thaneorus wavered the edge of his cape and returned to the bright warming fire, which was licking walls of the fireplace, covered in ash. Having sat on a stool, placed nearby the fire, the wizard edged a stack of wood closer to him and, having grabbed a rough a spin log, harshly threw it into the fire. Observing fire spirit devour gifted victim, Thaneorus began a silent monologue:
—God... So many nerve-racking fools I have to deal with... Sometimes it is really hard to have brains in this world... Hm... That descendant of the past is not so green as he may seem... Why haven't I figured out earlier that he was destined to be the Keeper of the Good? Your wrinkles deepen, Thaneorus, your wrinkles deepen... I must have ended this when it wasn't even supposed to begin. Nevermind — soon you shall pay for all the suffering you caused me.
With these words, Thaneorus heavily sighed and, having furiously hit the floor with his staff, threw a fresh log into the night fire, which instantly illuminated the dark room of the house with dim flattering light. How precious is the night of spring…