Volume 4, Chapter 2 – Hutzin. The Mine, the Snowman, and Wisdom.
Operation "Land? No, Sir, Mine" — on Kukah Island, 3,000 kilometers from the nearest mainland, near the polar ice.
Composition:
Officers: Pex (via Charlie Group), ARV.
Pex with Charlie Group (150 soldiers).
2 M88A2 recovery vehicles.
2 M1132 Stryker-based vehicles.
1 M977A4 HEMTT.
1 HMMWV.
Taxi: Arleigh Burke Flight III.
22:40:13
The destroyer slowly pushed through small ice floes, sailing toward the island. Night was falling, the blizzard howled, and waves crashed against the metal hull of the massive destroyer.
Charlie Group (150 soldiers) jumped into 2 MH-60R helicopters and deployed onto the island. The helicopter flew back and forth in zero visibility under strong crosswinds, landing on the island and quickly sliding sideways across the slippery surface as another batch of soldiers unloaded. Time after time, the helicopter made truly impossible landings on the destroyer with constant flare launches from the ship's deck.
Everything was covered in a layer of wet snow that froze, turning the deck into an ice rink — landings and troop loading became tests for mountaineers.
Charlie Group and the ARV Officer deployed — and as soon as they touched the ground, they drove ice axes into the earth and dug their spiked boots firmly into the ground. The wind roared, drowning out both the destroyer and the helicopters. Around them, only thick blackness mixed with white snowflakes swirling into dense currents, covering each soldier in a thick layer of frozen snow.
[ARV]: Base. Deployment complete.
[CUB]: ARV, copy. Destroyer is leaving. Operation begins.
[ARV]: Base. Copy.
And all the soldiers, half-crouched, moved toward a rocky elevation to get under it and begin mining operations. Step by step, tied together with ropes, the group moved slowly — soldiers slipped from the wind and flew sideways, but the ropes of the other 149 soldiers kept them from falling under the ice into the freezing water raging in this blizzard like a hellish cauldron.
The group reached the rock — the wind no longer mercilessly tugged at their gear, giving them a chance to shake off a few kilograms of frozen snow.
The Officer looked around, turning on his helmet light, illuminating a hundred faceless soldiers in white camouflage with rifles on their backs and rapiers at their belts. And the Officer spotted a cave.
[ARV]: Base. Cave discovered. (Shines light along the walls) Presumed identification — mine.
[CUB]: ARV, copy. Recon the mine for activity. Report status.
And ARV slowly moved down with the entire group, which split into two columns along both sides of the mine shaft.
The mine was excavated in various directions, with support beams of thick timber that had rotted and cracked — in some places there had been collapses, while in others the beams creaked, reminding that they could fall at any second.
The groups split into twenty soldiers each, heading into each tunnel for reconnaissance. Ceilings sometimes dropped to half a meter, and at other times widened enough for a tank. Broken pickaxes and rusty minecarts lay everywhere.
One group found the frozen remains of a human, preserved by the ice in his last pose before death.
His position: a man with his mouth wide open, as if trying to cough, sitting against a beam with severe burns on his arms and peeling skin, his face swollen with red eyes — and in front of him lay a piece of stone: one side looked like chocolate with bubbles, the other was smooth.
[Pex]: Base. This is Charlie-7. Corpse found. (One faceless crouches down, examining the metal.) Ore found. [Description of ore and corpse].
[CUB]: Pex. ARV. It's guage — our name: nasturan, or uraninite. Plan: reinforce the mine and expand the main tunnel for equipment deployment.
And Charlie Group returned to the central tunnel, working on reinforcing the walls and ceiling.
—
—
Operation "Not a Word of French." 05.05. 26:15.
I woke up in the middle of the night, but completely rested. I'll never get used to a thirty-hour day. It's impossible, probably. People here usually go to sleep around 27–28 — that's probably like our 21–22 — and the inhabitants of this world are more resilient and adapted to this lifestyle, while I'm just not ready for it. I woke up when the city was just going to sleep, with another six to seven hours until morning.
(Well, no point tossing and turning — I can't change anything.)
I got to my feet. To my surprise, my body didn't hurt much — probably because of my training with Pex, or maybe I'd developed faster recovery, or my pain threshold had risen where lactic acid starts to build up.
I examined the room for the first time.
One window, a wide bed, a wardrobe, a bathroom with a large water barrel built into the ceiling, with a tap and metal showerhead underneath. You could even heat the water with a magical faucet that lowered fire crystals into the barrel.
I quickly and happily showered, and with a good, energized mood, headed to the tavern to eat.
Stomp-stomp-stomp.
I came down the stairs lively and entered a fairly quiet atmosphere. In the corner, on a stage between two prop knights, a flutist played, creating a cozy accompaniment for the tavern guests — laughing, eating, playing cards, some just sitting in the corner sipping tea.
The Innkeeper saw me and quickly ran out, pulling me aside into a corner.
"Dear guest. You gave me a coin earlier," he looked around and began whispering. "Maybe you made a mistake — but this coin is of perfect quality and worth far more than just one gold coin. You probably confused it with regular gold. Here," he carefully, clenching his fist, handed me the coin and tightly closed my hand around it.
I looked at him, then at my fist. (He gave it back to me just because it's perfect quality and more valuable than others?)
"[M] No. It's correct. This is a coin from a new state that I received from a traveler. And I want to pay with it as intended — one gold for a room costing one gold," I placed the coin back in his hand. "And then you can resell it."
The Innkeeper thought, clenching his fist, pondering what to do.
"What's the name of this new state?"
"[M] The Democracy of Silence."
"I haven't heard of it."
"[M] That happens..." I walked to the counter, and the Innkeeper deftly hid the coin deep in his linen pants pocket and returned behind the counter.
"[M] How much would it cost to eat here?" I said, looking at the contents behind the counter.
The Innkeeper made a displeased face.
"It's all on the house. You've already given a lot. I'd recommend the traditional dish and the traditional dessert."
I felt a little awkward, experiencing a sense of deja vu from Rekhilon where I'd also eaten for free — only there it was the Monarch's Gold Coin, and here it was the Euro gold coin. But I'd learned my lesson from the "gift and bottle of water" incident and decided. When they offer — take it.
I nodded, sitting down next to a prop knight and a window that showed the street, lit by the soft blue light of the stones in the walls.
The tavern continued its life — people came and went, greeted each other, ordered food and drinks, and joined tables where others were already sitting, while others sought more secluded spots.
In a shadowy corner sat a woman drinking tea — occasionally, people would come up to her, sit down, pass something, and drink tea. I lingered on her for a moment, and she turned her head toward me — her face wasn't visible, but the gesture made me stop prying into others' affairs.
"Tzukhorai* — Ruru dish and Kaleysky Snowman," the Innkeeper presented two dishes with a smile.
[Tzukhorai — a local word that can be literally translated as "This is made with love, exclusively for you"]
"[M] Thank you..."
The Ruru dish looked very appetizing. A ring of creamy mashed potatoes, with vegetables and venison in a thick sauce inside. It smelled so good that I immediately broke the potato wall — and the sauce slowly spread across the plate.
So delicious. The mashed potatoes melted on my tongue with a pleasant buttery taste, while the sauce added a hint of spiciness and created a unique flavor variation with each new spoonful — different proportions of potato, sauce, vegetables, and meat. The meat, though quite tough, easily tore into fibers, adding an even more complex element to every bite.
And just as I finished this excellent dish, I noticed the dessert.
The Kaleysky Snowman looked like two balls. The bottom ball was made of ice with liquid inside, and the top ball was filled with shavings of something sweet and berries.
I tapped the top ball — it fell beautifully into the liquid and began to bloom like a bud, filling with red colors, with berries in the center of the bud.
I took the first spoonful of this amazing dish — I didn't even want to ruin it. On the tongue — cold, then pleasant pops with soft cream and berry filling, reminiscent of cherry tartness and apple, and these explosions, like chocolate popping in your mouth, each one different — one slightly sour, another sweet, a third slightly floral.
—
Full of pleasure and with a full stomach, I sat there enjoying the lingering taste in my mouth, watching the flutist's performance. It was so delicious — I never expected a medieval world could cook... like this. In France, in some places, they cook far worse — and these are traditional dishes, meaning they're made like this everywhere, maybe even at home. But how?! I can professionally make an omelet, and I can make various complex dishes from recipes — but how they made this snowman, I can't even imagine. I thought I'd get a piece of hard meat, and who knows from what — but instead, elegance in an ordinary tavern.
I couldn't resist and went up to the Innkeeper to find out the secret?!
"Magic," he smiled, clearly surprised by my ignorance.
It was literally a counterargument to our word "technology."
Oh... Magic... Something I'll never be able to achieve... Since I live in the Silent Silence, where everything hunts mages — and I don't want to send a swarm of millions of flies at my officers. That would be pure selfishness.
I hung my head and sat back down at my table.
But wait!
Lightbulb.
I know how to turn it on and off — my Democracy. And Archmage Clarence himself noticed something change in me when I accidentally turned on magic in his presence, which made him fall prostrate. So I have an aura that made him believe I'm an Archon — and that means I can turn on my magic when I'm outside the Silent Silence, since the monsters can't get out, and there are plenty of mages here who live normally — so I could use some kind of magic too, if I learned.
I closed my eyes. Everything faded into shadow, sounds stopped reaching me, and I became completely isolated.
(I am a mage!) — I believed.
I opened my eyes. Nothing changed. People still drank, chatted, the Innkeeper carried trays of food and collected dirty plates, the flutist kept playing. No "boom" like I expected — I thought everyone would see the aura and react somehow. But it seems I was wrong. Maybe only an Archmage can see it, or it only works in the Silent Silence.
Clink — the woman in the shadows dropped her teacup — crash.
[Through the Woman's Eyes]
A massive blue flame emanated from the guy sitting in the corner of the room, completely obstructing visibility, spreading through the entire city and rising to the trees, slowly narrowing as it reached toward the clouds.
The tavern's atmosphere was so heavy that it made any combat mage freeze — and I just sat there, unable to move because of this aura that was becoming thick, almost dark blue around the guy.
—
—
(Pity. Looks like it really only works in the Silent Silence. Nothing changed.)
I closed my eyes.
(I am not a mage!) — I believed.
(So be it. I lived somehow before — nothing's changed. But maybe I could learn ordinary magic, even without my toggle that only works in the Democracy of Silence. I should try.)
I stood up and — probably because I was lost in thought, or for some other reason — bumped into some woman who, in my opinion, appeared literally in front of my face. But more likely, I just wasn't paying attention and knocked the poor woman off her feet — ending up in a rather uncomfortable position.
I lay on top of a shocked woman in the middle of the tavern — guests stared with open mouths, and the man she'd been talking to nearly fainted.
Her companion quickly ran over and roughly pulled me off her, pushing me against the wall next to a prop Knight.
"How dare you! Insult Uyana Shirvani?!" — he'd already drawn his sword and was about to remove the seal.
"Enough!" Uyana shouted, and her companion quickly calmed down.
Uyana looked at me with a mix of surprise and absolute incomprehension — as if searching for something in me but unable to find it.
"[M] Sorry. I was lost in thought," I admitted. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?"
Uyana walked up to me — either to sniff me, or she just likes getting close to men's necks — then pulled back with absolute composure, while twelve pairs of eyes watched.
"Work is over," she answered her companion, who quickly retreated.
(Apparently, an important person — now I feel even more uneasy. What if she's an Archmage? And according to Clarence, insulting such people is taboo — so I just committed a taboo that's literally punishable by death. I definitely need to make amends and get out of Hutzin quickly. Otherwise, I might lose my head here — who knows what punishments they have for those who dare to drag an Archmage through the mud before the people.)
Uyana sat back down at her table between two columns, without lighting, while the tavern slowly began to come alive — the flutist started playing again, people cautiously tested the atmosphere with words, and like a chain reaction, they began to revive, returning to their original state.
I sighed and walked up to the woman, wanting to apologize somehow. But judging by how it all went, she's clearly not an Archmage — but an influential person.
"Sorry again. I'd like to make ame—" — a gust of wind, and we were on the roof. — "-nds?.."
I looked around in surprise. Night everywhere, with magical stone-lit streets below. We were right on top of the tavern — from here I could see Knights patrolling the walls on cheetahs with bows or crossbows. Below, young people walked merrily, couples strolled, carts loaded with various boxes passed with clatter — all under the pleasant blue light of the lamps.
The wind lightly caught Uyana's hair, spreading it like a black cloak, creating the effect of a waterfall. She stood opposite me, almost the same height as me — but judging by her heels, she was shorter. She wore an emerald silk tunic and a black corset that cinched her waist.
"Who are you?" Uyana asked cautiously, watching my every move.
(What? She just teleported me to the roof to ask my name? That's too much for flirting with a guy... Oh... This is my first interaction with magic — I literally just disintegrated into atoms in the tavern and reappeared here... If that's the case, can I say I'm the same person? My previous body was destroyed in the tavern, and this one was created from new atoms...)
I thought for a moment and looked up, nearly startled by Uyana. (Right! We're on the roof!)
"[M] My. Name. Seraphim."
"And who are you, Seraphim?" she continued staring intently, clearly surprised by how I'd forgotten about her.
(That's a difficult question... Probably even philosophical.) I thought, trying to glance at Uyana's face. (Though, probably not philosophical — her gaze makes it clear she expects an answer, not a reflection on who we are.)
"[M] I am Seraphim from the city of Rekhilon," I decided to stick to my cover story.
"I don't understand," Uyana burst out, trying to reconcile what I was saying with what she'd seen. "I'm asking who you are, not where you're from."
"[M] What do you mean? I'm a human. What else?" — now I didn't understand what was wrong with her and why she'd done this atom-splitting thing.
"For the Archon's sake, tell the truth," Uyana gave in.
(Heh... I'm also somewhat of an Archon — at least, one and a half million Yellows think so. But what truth is she waiting for? Maybe for me to admit my guilt for bumping into her? But that's the truth — I'm guilty and I don't deny it. But why drag me to the roof just for an apology? Or does she want something else? Maybe if I tell the truth, it'll be better?! When I last encountered a mage, I got hurt badly because of my lies.)
"[M] I am Seraphim. Commander of the country the Democracy of Silence, located beyond the Wall, in the Silent Silence."
Uyana was even more surprised than by my Rekhilon cover story — and moved closer, pulling out a sword from somewhere without a seal.
"You're lying."
"No," I carefully reached for the pistol behind my back, in my pants.
"You're a mage. You couldn't have gotten there, and even if you did, you'd have been killed!" she raised her emerald blade, pointing it at me.
"I'm not a mage!"
"You are a mage!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"Wait..." I thought, leaving the pistol grip alone. "What made you think I'm a mage?"
Uyana lowered her sword and thought for a moment, as if about to say something "important" and "strange."
"You... I don't know how you did it and why I don't see it now — but you had an aura..." Uyana decided to hide her fear of that aura and its scale.
(What...)
I stepped back. (So I really can turn on magic — and it really exists?! That's... incredible! So I was right — I can be both a mage and not a mage, just by flipping a switch! I can turn on magic here, and turn it off when I fly back home!)
I decided to try.
"Did you see that?"
I closed my eyes.
(I... AM A MAGE!) — I said with overwhelming confidence, truly believing that I could be a mage and that I could use this world's magic.
[Through Uyana's Eyes]
A massive column of thick aura burst from Seraphim, growing darker and darker — and I found myself, along with the entire city, at the epicenter of this aura, which continued to spread to the borders of the Kingdom of Ruma, a fifty-kilometer radius in all directions. This time the aura was much stronger, emanating so much mana it was enough to drown in it.
I couldn't move — all I could think was to fall to my knees as quickly as possible and apologize to the one I'd crossed, to fall and follow this... Archon for the rest of my days and be the shield of this world for him. I felt all the pain and joy of this man, felt how powerful he was, yet lonely and weak before ordinary people.
I felt everything and fell to my knees.
—
—
I looked around — and again, nothing. (I expected at least some kind of spark, but I guess it works differently. What... Why is she kneeling and not moving?)
Fine...
(I am not a mage!) — I believed again with some disappointment.
(Maybe she just decided to mess with an ordinary guy? But why all this farce — teleporting to the roof, a sword at my throat?! I don't understand...)
(Whatever — I'm used to it. I can handle being just a beacon for creatures in the Silent Silence.)
I looked at Uyana. She was still on her knees, staring at the floor.
"Hello?" I made a sound, trying to wake her.
She suddenly opened her eyes and stood up.
"Seraphim! Forgive me!" she grabbed my shoulders, then caught herself and jumped back. "I was wrong — now I understand everything. Your Wisdom is what I've been missing."
(Oh no! Something definitely happened. Anything but "Wisdom" — I'm sick of that word. Every day in the Democracy of Silence, walking around and hearing the Yellows in soldiers' bodies say it, the word takes on a very unwise connotation. I don't want her thinking I have some kind of wisdom too.)
"There is no wisdom!" I shouted, trying to knock the nonsense out of her head.
"This wisdom is the truth," she worshipped, kneeling again.
"Hello! Cut it out! If you want — my wisdom is to be myself!" I shouted in desperation.
Uyana slowly stood up and nodded, folding her hands at her waist.
"Of course. Seraphim, can I go with you?"
"What?"
"What?"
"Wait," I stopped her and sat her on the roof's edge. "Let's try again. You have to be yourself — don't fall for this wisdom, it's bad. Spit it out. Live like you lived before," I tried to talk to her like a child who'd learned a bad word.
"Yes, of course!" she nodded, not resisting as I sat her on the roof's edge. "I'm the same as I always was."
"Wait. No. You're not the same at all. Why aren't you resisting? I could push you off the roof?" I sighed. "Fine. My wisdom..."
She jumped up like a child who'd just been told candy was coming.
"See! Gotcha! Forget that word," I caught her reaction, pointing a finger at her.
"You imagined it," she sat back down.
"Fine. My Wisdom — you must be exactly the same as you were!" I declared.
Uyana walked up to me with a confident stride, perfect posture, and a cold gaze that made you scared.
"I. Always stay myself. So your words are a farce," she said — but only to calm me down, while she herself was looking for a way to follow me.
"Good. Then where's the way down from here?" I decided to change the subject and get away from her quickly — she was clearly some high-ranking person, and I'd just scrambled her brains, inserting a terabyte of wisdom into them — and judging by people's brain sizes, that's too much.
"Down?"
"No!"
I walked to the edge — it was only the second floor, I'd jumped from helicopters and a Hercules, so this was nothing.
I looked one last time at Uyana's impassive face — she'd crossed her arms, hiding them in her sleeves.
Jump!
Thump.
I landed in Uyana's arms.
"Huh?" I didn't understand — I thought I'd knocked all those "wisdom" motives out of her.
She set me down and stepped back, hiding her hands in her sleeves.
"You thought..."
"You thought wrong."
"You?"
"That too."
I sighed.
"Come on, what's wrong with you..." I gave up completely. "You seriously became a fanatic... Because of me? That means I ruined your life..."
And that really hit me — one thing to become a god for those who are already dead and trapped in the Silent Silence, another to become a god for a mage who had her own life, her own worries and troubles. And now this woman acts solely to follow me. I basically enslaved her...
I sat down by the roadside — carts passed by, and the blue lamp light shone on me.
(So I'm bringing problems to this world...)
"Not at all. I didn't say my life is ruined. And I decide how to live it," Uyana intervened, standing next to me. "I decided to follow you myself. And that's solely my desire."
I didn't believe her.
"My wisdom — sit," I said tiredly, to prove she was wrong.
And she quickly sat down next to me. (She became a reasonable puppet, obeying any stupidity.)
"My wisdom — live the way you lived before. Forget me. And all this," — tired and depressed, I started walking away to leave this city.
Uyana stood and analyzed, trying to find a loophole in the wisdom so she wouldn't have to abandon me — since she wanted to be my shield. And she came up with one: (I live as I lived because I haven't changed outwardly, and I'll forget this conversation — I'll never mention it, I'll forget all of it — I'll leave this city because I need to forget and follow Seraphim.)
—
Uyana returned to the tavern and walked up to her companion.
"Is anyone in the tavern?" she asked.
"No!" her companion said sharply.
"Good. Follow the guy who was here. Name — Seraphim," Uyana ordered.
Her companion was surprised and nodded.
"Kill him?"
"I'll kill you. He's an important person — protect him," she smacked the back of his head, making his hair fly forward.
"Five people?"
"Twenty," Uyana ordered, and the entire tavern lined up for the Innkeeper, who deftly handed out uniforms to each. Uyana hung a "Closed" sign and curtained the windows.
The Innkeeper occasionally touched his pocket and remembered his conversation with Seraphim about the new state — and it was like the pieces of a puzzle clicked together in his head. He understood that Seraphim was the head of this new state. And now their organization, built for covert elimination or information gathering, would protect a man from the Democracy of Silence — and the Innkeeper accepted this.