The lantern light, a pitiful yellow droplet in the bottomless throat of the night, barely pushed back the gloom. The rocky path underfoot was treacherously narrow, the precipice – just a step away to the right.
Yan moved slowly, feeling his way, each step a risky wager with death. The wind, the eternal inhabitant of these heights, howled through the ravines, trying to tear off his cloak and blow out the feeble flame in the lantern.
'Almost took a tumble, damn it...' – the thought flashed like a cold spark as he caught his balance, pressing himself against the cliff face.
After patrolling his assigned scrap of this stone hell, he found the familiar boulder and collapsed onto it. Weariness bound his bones with lead. Inhale – exhale. Silence, broken only by the wind's howl and the pounding of his own heart in his temples. Or was it?
A rustle. A barely audible scrape of a pebble under a sole. Not the wind.
Instinct acted faster than thought. Yan lunged sideways, drawing the heavy, well-worn machete from its sheath in one fluid motion. Steel glinted dully in the lantern's weak light.
"Who?!" – his voice cracked into a hoarse whisper, lost in the wind.
THUD!
Behind him, precisely where he'd been sitting a second ago, a rock crashed down with a roar, tumbling into the abyss. Yan surged towards the sound, blade ready, his heart hammering somewhere in his throat.
Out of the shadows, a characteristic smirk on his tanned face, stepped Alesh. His comrade, pulling guard duty on the adjacent section. The guy giggled, not hiding his malicious glee.
"Idiot!" – Yan forcefully sheathed the machete, feeling adrenaline give way to irritation, and spat angrily as he stepped closer.
"Oh, Yan, you should've seen yourself!" – Alesh, choking on laughter, clutched his stomach. – "Eyes like a scared gopher! Swear to god!"
"What are you doing here? Not enough mountains on your own patch?" – Yan exclaimed angrily.
Alesh just waved a dismissive hand: "Relax! The height here – you could chase a bird! What's gonna happen? Only our base sticks out like a nail in the world's ass. In a month, the only soul – a mountain goat! And a shaggy one! Well, almost a soul..."
"Go do your job," Yan grumbled, turning away.
"Don't sulk!" – Alesh stepped closer, temptingly shaking a thick leather wineskin. He slapped it with his palm. – "Didn't just come for fun. Come on, let's take a swig, warm our souls?"
Yan reluctantly glanced around – nothing but night and stones.
He sighed and gave in. Snatched the wineskin, uncorking it in one motion. The acrid, suffocating stench of cheap rotgut hit his nose like rotten pepper. The first gulp burned his throat like liquid fire, making him cough. He pulled back, grimacing.
"What boredom, eh," – Alesh drawled, taking the wineskin back and taking a huge gulp, barely flinching.
"What did you expect?" – Yan looked at him with poorly concealed contempt. – "A smugglers' den? Or did you want a pool with mermaids?"
"Well, at least some broad..." – Alesh said dreamily, taking another swig. – "Or else sometimes you just wanna jump off from sheer boredom. Freshen up."
"That – no problem," – Yan nodded maliciously towards the precipice, his gaze nervously skittering over the black shroud of night beyond the lantern's circle. Alesh snorted.
"Cranky today. Maybe tell me something? Huh?" – he shoved the wineskin back. – "You just came on shift. What's up on the Big Land?"
Yan took the wineskin, took a gulp, hesitated, stretching the moment. Alesh's eyes burned with curiosity. "Well? Don't drag it out!"
Yan took another pull from the wineskin, as if gathering courage, and exhaled: "Our Sun-like One... is getting married."
Alesh froze, his eyes wide: "No shit?! Who's the lucky bastard? A foreign prince? A hero? The Captain of the Guard?"
"That's the thing..." – Yan smirked. – "He hasn't been found yet."
"What do you mean – not found?" – Alesh frowned.
"Straight up – the candidate hasn't been decided," – Yan explained, enjoying the confusion on his companion's face.
"Remember, half a year ago, that dragon hunt? The one that lost a wing and crawled into the cave under the Black Mountain?"
Alesh nodded, recalling: "Yeah, that nasty piece of work..."
"Well. Whoever brings back its head – becomes the new Emperor." – Yan paused for effect.
"Whoo-oo-ah..." – Alesh whistled, then burst out laughing. – "So our lady's gonna stay a 'maiden' for another hundred years! Ha!"
"What makes you so sure?" – Yan raised an eyebrow.
"I'm from those parts, Yan," – Alesh's face suddenly turned serious, the laughter dying. He took the wineskin but didn't drink. – "And I saw it. From afar, true... But I'll tell you: that scumbag, even if small by dragon standards – is toothy. And throws magic around... no worse than a capital archmage. Heard about the landslides on the western slope?"
Yan nodded, recalling stories of the sudden disaster that seemed to fall from the sky.
"Well... He just breathed – and half the mountain was gone. Poof. To hell." – Alesh threw a pebble into the darkness. Then suddenly perked up, nudged Yan's shoulder, his old bravado returning: "So, what? Let's go? Whack the scumbag? Grab some glory!"
"Get lost!" – Yan snorted, but his laugh held bewilderment.
"No, picture it!" – Alesh got excited, waving his arms. – "Me – on a black steed! Behind me, a wagon with the monster's head! Women waving handkerchiefs! A shower of petals from the rooftops!"
"And me?" – Yan asked with interest, bugging his eyes at his companion.
"You..." – he looked Yan up and down contemptuously, – "...ride beside me, with your usual sour puss-face, like always..."
Yan frowned. "Who'd be Emperor then, smartass?" – Alesh blinked, the stupidity of the claim puzzling him, but Yan just smirked.
"There's another catch, buddy. To enter that damned cave... you have to go alone."
"A-ah..." – Alesh drew out, understanding the gravity. His enthusiasm instantly deflated. "So, no new Emperor for us, period..."
"Agreed," – Yan nodded. "Not enough idiots. And the ones that are... don't come back."
Silence followed the words. Only the wind howled its age-old song.
Shhhk... Shhhk-shhhk...
Yan froze. Alesh started, his eyes widening in the dark. A brief, understanding nod.
A moment – and blades were back in their hands, steel coldly catching the feeble lantern light. The men's breath caught. Crouching like predators, they slowly moved towards the cliff edge where the suspicious rustle had come from. Yan gestured to himself – I'll go. Alesh nodded, frozen in readiness.
Step. Another step. Yan's heart pounded, loud in his ears, drowning the wind's howl. He pressed against the rocks, every nerve taut as a bowstring. There it was. The edge. The black abyss yawned beneath his feet. He raised the lantern, ready to throw light down into the very maw of the night...
Pfffffft…
A loud, strained, utterly unambiguous sound tore through the silence right behind him. Yan flinched so hard he nearly dropped the lantern. Then he turned around...
Alesh stood, bent double, shaking with silent laughter threatening to burst out. His shoulders jerked, his face crimson from suppressed mirth. He just pointed a finger at Yan, at his face twisted with tension, and couldn't hold it back – a wild laugh, mixed with choking gasps, erupted.
"Bastard!" – Yan exhaled, feeling the heat of shame flood his cheeks. He threw a pebble at Alesh, writhing in laughter, who didn't even notice, choking on his guffaws. The lantern in his hand trembled, illuminating the absurdity of their night watch on the edge of the world, where the main threat to his life turned out to be his partner's flatulence.
Alesh's laughter, ragged and choking, beat against the rocks for a few more seconds like a wounded bird before finally dying in the night. Yan didn't even notice the silence at first. His gaze, tearing away from his partner's convulsing figure, slid involuntarily forward – where storm clouds had suddenly ripped apart like a black curtain.
Before him, breathtakingly silent, lay a vast lunar valley. Silvery light flooded the folds of the land, turning ravines into rivers of shadow, and peaks into islands of shimmering stone. The beauty was cold, silent, almost unreal after their stupid antics. At least this one shut up, – Yan thought with relief, leaving him alone with the sudden, ringing silence and this hypnotic landscape sprawling far below.
"You still here?" – he threw over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the moonlit sea. No answer. Only the wind rustling the stones.
A wave of icy premonition rose from his tailbone. Yan whipped around.
Empty. Where Alesh had been rolling with laughter just a second ago, lay only an uneven boulder. No sound, no movement. Only Alesh's lantern, dropped in his fit of laughter, blinked weakly on the ground, casting jumping shadows.
His hand instinctively flew to the machete's hilt. His grip grew slick with sudden sweat. "Alesh?" – his voice rasped. – "Where are you? If this is another dumb joke… I'll kill you, I swear! Hey!"
Silence pressed on his ears. His face burned, sweat trickled down his temples in salty streams. Nerves… or… His gaze darted around, catching on every stone, every crevice.
And froze. At the edge of his vision. From behind the neighboring boulder protruded a scrap of fabric. Dark, coarse. Alesh's trouser leg.
"There you are, damn joker," – Yan whispered, relief mingling with rage. "Laughing to himself now, the bastard, drooling with mirth." Trying not to let his soles scrape, he crouched and crawled towards the rock. His heart pounded, but now from anger, not fear. "I'll show you now…"
He froze right at the boulder's edge. Waited. A cloud, as if on cue, slid back, devouring the moonlight. Almost impenetrable darkness thickened around him. "Now."
Yan jumped out from behind cover, ready to grab the "joker" by the scruff. – "Hey! What, fell asleep, you fool…"
The words stuck in his throat. Alesh sat slumped against the rock. His head lolled unnaturally back. His eyes, wide open, stared into the infinity of the moonlit sky, but saw nothing. At all.
THWAP! – the light, almost playful cuff Yan had prepared landed on his partner's shoulder. Alesh's body swayed and slid limply onto its side like an empty sack. Zero reaction.
"What the…?" – Yan dropped to his knees beside him. His hand instinctively reached for Alesh's neck, searching for a pulse. His fingers slid over skin – warm, sticky. And encountered something… deep. A slit. Gaping. Blood. Warm, viscous fluid coated his fingers, the sharp, coppery smell hitting his nostrils.
He recoiled. And at that moment, the last tatters of cloud drifted away. Moonlight fell on the scene of death.
On the rock, right above Alesh's lifeless body, a figure crouched. Not Alesh. Entirely different. Skin-tight, black as the night itself, clothing blended with the shadows. No face, no eyes visible under the hood. Only a sense of chilling, absolute dread.
"Alarm!" – a hoarse cry tore from Yan's chest. He surged upwards, hand flying to his blade.
But he wasn't fast enough.
Not a blow. Not a push. Just something very hard and impossibly cold pressed against his throat for a moment. The word never left his mouth, as if his tongue had frozen. Not painful. Just… final.
Yan crashed face down. Stone bit painfully into his cheek. Consciousness fled swiftly, like water into an abyss. The last thing he saw before the world went dark was a pair of light, practical boots of dark leather, standing nearby. And fragments of quiet conversation somewhere above him, already distant, as if from another world.
"…went smoothly." – The voice was low, emotionless.
"Hmm, I wouldn't say so," – answered a second voice, slightly higher, with a touch of irritation. Yan felt someone's gaze sweep over his already unfeeling body. – "This one… you missed. And too much noise. This… will be noted in the report. For now – give the signal. We're finishing up here."