Аларо

As for when I left the Dark Forest and became a thug scout… Well, I think the place of birth does not determine who you will become. I was told from birth that I was different from everyone else: firstly, I did not know how to climb at all and could not climb even the most sprawling tree in a Dark forest - fortunately, I gave up this occupation before I managed to injure myself. Secondly, I love meat. The smell of flesh from my mouth drove my vegetarian neighbors crazy. Thirdly, my skin is not green, and therefore I was always noticed first. No one wanted to play with me, and soon I had only one friend left, Zorn.In fact, I read that the only significant difference I had from others was my eyesight. I can only see well what is far away, and therefore I had to wear special glasses. One day my mother put a bowl of soup in front of me and, looking at me sternly, said: "Alaro, tomorrow you will have a coming-of-age ceremony! What are you going to do?"I immediately swallowed all the soup and put a copy of "Tales of the Desert" in my pocket. What an impudent man.I became the only one in the family who could not pass the coming-of-age ceremony for five years in a row. To do this, it was necessary to unite in a squad with other guys, go to the most mysterious part of the Dark Forest and bring a trophy from there. "No one wants to team up with you? mother asked with a sigh. "It's time you stopped dreaming about the desert. Such dreams can be dangerous, especially for forest dwellers."Of course, she was right. The quiet and peaceful Dark Forest was a wonderful place. Here no one had to endure the scorching sun and unbearable heat and fight for survival, like the heroes of my favorite "Tales of the Desert". "No one threatens us except time," the old oak sages, who have lived for many years, declared. But perhaps you, like me, are drawn to the unknown? This is a strong innate craving to explore the world, to find a new home… Such as you choose for yourself.Such things. When it came time for me to leave the Dark Forest, no one came to see me off and no one wanted to go with me, except Zorn. We headed west and a few days later reached the top of Mount Bolai.A wonderful warm smell touched my nostrils. I looked into the distance and saw an endless sea of yellow sand behind the mountains. Here and there shriveled bones were white, reminding that death lurked everywhere in those parts. Golden dunes ran away to the west, their winding crests stretching to the horizon. I couldn't wait to ride along the slopes of the dunes, snuggling up to the hot sand. I could hear the beating of the heart of the desert: the murmur of water in hidden springs, the buzzing of beetles and the howl of the hot wind — it all seemed so familiar, because I had seen this place many times in my dreams. That's how I started wandering in the desert. The yellow skin that made me stand out in my native forest perfectly helped me hide among the sands. I visited the Devil's Sand Castle, which is considered the lair of dangerous Sand Claws. I slipped a powerful laxative into their lunch and slipped away with a valuable loot. I snuck into the Seers' Temple for their mystical totems. The curses and screams of the temple elders did not frighten me at all. I made a fortune betting on bloody fights in the Crimson Arena, and almost died from the bite of a poisonous snake in the Bone Glades…In the end, I decided to settle in Kanter, a town located in an oasis in the middle of the desert. Foreigners are loved here, and merchants sell all sorts of rarities from the lands of thugs, light carriers and forest dwellers... Sometimes they bring goods even from the possessions of the grave-born. Zorn and I healed well, spending time over cold cocktails. "No one threatens us except time," I said to Zorn one evening. I was lying on the sand, enjoying the soft sunset rays, when suddenly someone stepped on me.I jumped to my feet, ready to tear and throw, but I saw only a bully in front of me, who bowed and asked for forgiveness. He explained that he was a wandering desert sage and did not want to offend me. He was supposedly just meditating. I examined this polite bully from head to toe. He was half human, half falcon. Judging by his shabby clothes, he really had been wandering in the desert for a long time. "Meditating in the desert? I asked. "I was thinking," he said, "how the war between the tribes turned this beautiful desert into such a terrible place." I shrugged, not knowing what to say to that. "My people," the wanderer continued, "believe that warriors enjoy only the sight of blood. What do you think?" "Is this wrong? I laughed. — No one likes those who stand out. They seek to deal with such people, even if they belong to the same tribe." The fire in the bully's eyes immediately went out. He shook his head: "Such cruelty destroys the soul over time, and you can lose yourself." I shouldn't have been chatting with that crazy philosopher. The next time I saw him in the Canter, when the city was shrouded in an acrid alchemical fog. The falcon and bear tribes have just finished a fierce battle that I missed because I was in the hunting grounds of the goons. Bustling markets and residential areas — everything was destroyed by alchemical shells. But I almost forgot that this desert belonged to the thugs who were constantly waging wars among themselves. Cursing myself, I searched among the ruins for Zorn, whom I hadn't taken hunting with me that day."Come with me," said the mad philosopher who appeared behind me. He tried to stop me, but I fought back violently. Then he said something that made me freeze in place: "I have your friend."Not believing the madman, I still followed him to the outskirts of the city. I had a poisoned dagger ready, with which I was going to kill him right there if he lied to me. When we climbed another dune, I was stunned by the view that opened up to me: the setting sun illuminated the sand, crowds of people set up tents and lit bonfires. They all stopped their business to greet the philosopher. They thanked him for helping them escape from the slaughterhouse and find peace. They were arguing about how to rebuild the Canter. There, in the crowd, stood a smiling Zorn. I went over and brushed the dust off his straw-stuffed head. Yes, Zorn was a scarecrow, a doll — only he accompanied me in exile. Then it turned out that the mad philosopher was the leader of an elite squad. Acting ahead of the curve, he managed to get most of the residents of Kanter, including Zorn, to a safe place."Hatred brings nothing but destruction. Only by overcoming our prejudices will we be able to build a real home for ourselves," he said and held out his hand to me. — My name is Skriat. And you?" The Scriat's gaze had truly magical power, and I could not help but shake his hand."I am also an outcast," said Skriat, and I saw my reflection in his eyes, "but together we will find shelter." I accepted the horn of Scriath and joined the scouts of the goons, because deep down I knew that I belonged among them. The sunset burned out, and the first star appeared in the sky.