Clearing the well took almost two days. When the stones were taken out of him and the soaked ash was taken out, it was found that there was only viscous mud at the bottom, oozing from the pores of the disfigured land. It seemed that it would be necessary to deepen and clean the well endlessly, it seemed that we would never again get drunk again, not by washing our parched hands, but at the end of the second day, when everyone had almost lost hope, but there were not more than a couple of buckets of water in the house, began to act long-awaited moisture...
The forest fire had subsided by then, although the sky was still covered with smoky gray clouds, and it was hard to breathe from the dust and bad smell. Taking water, Tammar and I and Rimal went to the sawmill. Charred sticks instead of trunks and the same terrible black carpet into which boulders fallen from the sky were drowned - that's all that remains of a thin, but beautiful and quiet forest of ours.
We expected almost any picture, but what opened our gaze was worse than anything we could imagine. At the site of the sawmill and the wooden house, where the master Rakid had recently lived, we saw two ashes and nothing more. There was no doubt that all the inhabitants of the house were killed in a terrible night fire, not having a chance to escape.
Pale Tammar stood motionless, covering his face with his hand, and Rimal was continually praying in horror. I listened and beckoned to him to remain silent.
"We are not alone, Mr. Rimal, I went to the former house of Rakid and knelt down, putting my fingers in the still warm ashes."
"What, dragons for..." Rimal began, indignantly, but Tammar, evidently, jerked it off, and he continued in a whisper: "What's going on, Tammar?"
"Dead souls," Tammar told him quietly, "the gentleman feels them... Yes, quietly, do not bother him!"
Rimal fell silent. Focusing, I gently scooped up the ashes with my palms and suddenly heard a cry. First, one voice cried, then the second, the third...
"Master Rakid," I cried in my spirit, "master, if it's you, show yourself to me! Samar, Eily, Mrs. Rana! It's me, Arantir, your lord and friend, do not be afraid, open yourself to me!"
"We can not, sir..." I suddenly heard. "We do not see you... We do not know where we are... We do not know what's happening to us ... the voices in my soul were crying, and I shuddered with compassion. However, I continued to talk to the dead - that it was them, there was no doubt - and gradually found out that they could feel and hear each other's souls, but they did not see me, the world of the manifested, or the spirit world. And so I tried to bring the lost and finally realized that, being already a part of the spiritual world, they remained attached to the dense world, because they did not understand that they were dead, and it was easier to show them and the place of their death than to try to open it to them, blind in spirit, the gate to Asha."
For a long time I talked with the master Rakid, his wife and sons, leading them gradually to a terrible truth, and finally they realized that they were dead, and only then did they see each other and me, Tammara and Rimal, and the ashes that had become their grave . And I pointed them to this place, and explained again what had happened to them, and they understood everything, and rejoiced that their spiritual eyes were opened and they could see each other, and I felt their gratitude.
"For many years you have been faithful to me and to my house, and I will help your souls to retire," I told them then. "Just ask me to serve you one last time. Do you agree?"
"Yes, sir," I heard voices, quiet, like the rustle of leaves, from which now only ashes remained.
"Rakid, Rana, Samar, Eily, I call you! I swear to you, after you have fulfilled the promise, at the same time to release you and lead you to Asha! I bind myself with my word, and my soul with your souls!" giving them this oath, I set out the crux of the matter. I asked them, the messengers of the ethereal and fastest, to go to different parts of Erish and bring me information about whether the cities and people who inhabited them are still alive.
My sent ones disappeared and a few moments later they appeared again, and monstrous pictures swam before my eyes: ruined castles, burnt settlements, charred bones in a messy mess and on broken roads, lakes and rivers turned into black swamps... But I saw that Nar -Ankar, - did not disappoint me, I correctly guessed that the mentors will be able to save the city. Resisted and Nar-Harad - between the people trading there were also many strong magicians who defended the city walls and squares. The goal was also Illuma-Nadine - wise Sehbet, going on a campaign, did not forget to hide the castle, as befits. Nar-Erish suffered the hardest - there was not much left of him, the great capital lay in ruins, only a few buildings were preserved, where, evidently, those who miraculously escaped death were concealed.
Now I saw with my inner eyes all four of them and at the same time, as I swore to them, I fulfilled the promise. After a proper ritual, I took leave of them forever and let them go.
We returned home in silence, until, finally, before I left, I turned to Tammar:
"Tomorrow we'll start clearing the road, Mr. Tammar. Relax."
"Thank you, Monsieur Arantir," he paused, and added without looking at me, "you know, the lady would be proud of you." She said so when you were born: "Someday, one sent by Asha will save you all! Sent by Asha, submitted by Asha - she often called you that... Your father and mother believed that the goddess herself sent you into this world, so that you would conduct in life her will, and I also believe that this is true."
Tammar bowed and left. Looking after him, I suddenly realized who else knew the truth about my birth and who buried my mother next to my father.
I went upstairs, closed myself in my chambers and sank to the floor without any strength.
To be continued
Thank you for reading!