A Song of Askaldenfirsts and Dragons. Book one: The outlanders (Part I-IV)
Chapter 8: Yashkirran

It started raining, the northerners, who were in the southwest of Kaushmanashtoon decided to go to the south. Yashkirran Vindrick, knowing more than others about the various prophecies of Ermir, temporarily disbanded the army. He understood that now Silenta would move along a different trajectory, and a lone star would change the climate on the planet’s surface, and the way beyond the Belt of Twilight would be open. He wanted the knowledge hidden behind the ghostly peaks of the mountains...

***

Twenty years later.

Yashkirran Vindrick is an average height, middle-aged man of the race of isters, fit, with glowing brown eyes, long black hair, twisted into a man’s ban. The isterses were skilled warriors, accustomed to sandstorms, they could live without water longer than other races, however, wallitarfs, sand dwarfs, could compete for the right to become champions of minimal dehydration.

The curved swords with double-edged blades used by the isterses glittered gracefully in the rays of Silenta. Yashkirran knows only one school of magic, the school of damage, pain and destruction. Such magic is most necessary for those who like to attack first.

“It’s all about the snunorf?! What nonsense!” the warrior said to himself. “The ancient elves don’t understand anything at all. I woke up the dragon! I am!”

Yashkirran considered. Angrily glancing over the table upon which the map of the world lay, he tapped his fingers slowly on the wood.

“Your Majesty,” the guard interrupted his thoughts, “the ambassador has arrived in Eileenelia.”

“Your Majesty, King Yashkirran Vindrick the First, sounds great,” he mused. “It’s time to get used to it.”

“You may go,” the king said quietly, not taking his eyes off the map.

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