Time seemed to stop here, and the inclement weather and the Yellow-Eyed One howling under the door no longer disturbed the mother and child. The woman stroked the head of her firstborn, who would not go to sleep without another story. She placed her hand on the child's back. In that moment, nothing existed for them.

"Tell me a story!" the child demanded, rising from the bed. He was barely four, and he still couldn't pronounce the first sound of "runes". He was a baby. The young mother smiled and smoothed his unruly strands of hair.

"Good. You'll have a fairy tale," she said kindly, oblivious to the weather outside the windows.

"It was a long time ago. Back in the olden days, when the Titan Jodcheim had not yet passed through these parts. To the shores of the largest island in the Deep Gulf, the one named Amberlight by the first humans, came a group of living people who had defeated the distant darkness and the Canopy of Ignorance in their homeland. There, on their distant continent, after defeating the named Light, they pursued evil, and, imitating the celestials of the night sleep, destroyed it completely." The mother placed her hand on the child's back. She felt his cautious breathing. She adjusted the blanket. The hide of a boar covered the timbers of the hut in the headboard, it seemed, and she listened intently to the story.

"They were brave heroes that slew many spawn of the dark cover, and therefore they were not frightened by sea monsters. The men of the expedition sailed on two ships, across the Great Dark Frontier. One of the ships was called 'Dawn' and the other was called 'Sunset'. A vast black expanse of water raged beneath them, and the impenetrable Canopy of Ignorance approached from all sides. But the brave mariners overcame their fear, their ships moving farther and farther from the lands where they were born," mother spoke, and her eyes shone brightly. The firelight danced and reflected in them.

"Is the canopy the village land?" questioned the child. His eyes were wide open, wanting to understand new things about the world. The woman smiled, "How could such a thing even occur to her?" And then she realized that the child could see the connection between this and that. And again she was glad to see how clever he was.

"No, come on, Envnir, they're floating on a vast body of water! The Great Dark Frontier. There's no land there at all. Neither dry nor wet, neither light nor gray," she leaned toward him and, seeing the realization in his eyes, kissed the top of his head.

"You have correctly observed that they are of the same nature. They say the Hollow went into the earth, made it bad," the woman nodded, confirming her words. The small crib, more like a bench, was shaking with the movement. "And he hasn't flown since."

"What if he flies again?" the curious child, in its spontaneity, would not stop.

"It won't. The shroud was defeated long ago. The shroud of Ignorance is a kind of darkness that hangs in the air and wants to swallow up the careless traveler. Neither fire nor water can help against it, only special ancient crystals left by hunters and priests. And the gray earth…" The young mother thought for a moment. "…It came afterward. You saw it yourself, remember?" the storyteller noticed the glint of understanding in the child's eyes, and he nodded readily.

"And so, when the brave heroes landed on the island that is now near the mainland on which we live..... The first to land on it was Dümmal Grave Mohawk, the Emperor's distant great-grandfather and the first king of men. His descendants still rule the entire land of Terresia and the archipelago from this Amber Island," the door creaked open and the child's mother turned around. The father of the family finally entered the house and appeared on the threshold. In his hands he was holding damp wood that smelled of fresh tar. "Had to chop some new ones," the young woman guessed. He kicked the mud from his shoes against the threshold and stood motionless.

"The landing near the mainland was the first milestone in the development of new lands that were still hidden by the Hollow of Ignorance." The woman looked up at the man. Their gazes met. He called out to her with a nod to the side and walked into the other room.

"Darling, let me tell you the sequel tomorrow?" she asked, and a traitorous tear ran down her cheek.

"Are you crying?" his question sounded somehow particularly piercing.

"No! I'm just very hot from the fire – my eyes glistened. Please, I've told you a story. Go to bed and tomorrow you'll hear the rest. Okay?" She pulled up the blanket and covered him, got up and walked from the room to the door.

"It's a deal," the child agreed, and the woman went out.

The boy lay and looked at the fire, listening to his calm breathing. The flames played with him, caressing his face and closing his eyes.

"Did you recognize it?" came a muffled voice.

"They will come for him tomorrow," he sighed and answered sadly.

"Didn't you try to challenge the decision?" the first voice persisted.

"How could I…" there was a pause in the speech. "I tried, it didn't help."

"Why don't we just run away?" a tinge of slight madness and hope came into the voice.

The answer was silence.

The silence went on and on. The flames swirled, and the child was distracted by them. He fell asleep without realizing what his parents were saying.

Only then did he hear a muffled sob. Another and another. The hail pounded the roof and swept like a broom under the doorstep. The storm was right over the house. The storm pounded harder and harder at the windows and shutters on all sides, and soon the sobs were inaudible. Yellow-Eyed howled again; she did not regard the grief of others as more important than her own.

The waters of memory flushed as abruptly as they came up to his eyelashes.

Standing at the triple crossroads was a man in black robes. Clothes worn in the Order by the messengers of the night. A tattered cloak flapped in the wind, and a long-brimmed hat pulled upward more like a hood. The wanderer's mouth was safely hidden behind a milchemist's mask to filter the air, but believe me, he crinkled at the taste of memories. Like a cat squeamishly jerking its paw at water, the gloomy traveler tried to forget it as soon as possible. The unpleasant past, it seemed to make him weaker, more vulnerable. He no longer recognized himself in it. There was someone else, naive, with eyes open to the world, ready to believe anything. And here stood a completely different person. A huge block of granite stood in front of him, pointing the way. It was just like him. Like that cold, guiding piece of rock from his memories.

The horse snorted behind him, digging its hoof into the ground, leaving another pothole. The animal demanded to move on again. The man was uneasy, too. A chill ran down his back. Here the hornet had penetrated far to the south. All around, as far as the eye could see, was poisoned gray earth, and only the forest ahead burned with the green fire of life. The traveler lowered his head. His long and black Order cloak whipped around his leather boots with protective metal inserts.

He intercepted his crossbow. On the handle of his weapon, a sling swung up. And on it jingled a token for shooting the chilled. The grim reaper of the restless dead looked forward. His thick, clinging goggles gleamed two scarlet lightning bolts in the reddened strands that hung over the forest of Titan Jodcheim. The lights of the blue vaulted. The cover of night was closing in.