I did not see her myself, as law prohibits it, but I saw her portrait. I would give about twenty years to this girl. From that, I can conclude that up to a certain age, the beautiful and unequivocally incredible Tsvetsho did grow, changing in appearance. So, as the north and south differ from each other, so do the people who inhabit them.
The Itoshinian Language
The language of the Itoshins is simple and understandable. It took after the Old Language of the Great Cities, which remotely resembles the language of the modern Chekatta. But the language of the empire has largely undergone phonetic changes. It has no cases and conjugations. Nouns, verbs, and adjectives are written and pronounced identically. The main words of the Itoshins contain short sounds. For example: In – the people, To – the father, Vet – mother, Ve – life, Do – sword, La – fog, Tsu – courage. Such brevity of language helps the Itoshins in battle. It’s easier to give commands and explain the current situation. Rarely used words can consist of two syllables, quite rarely of three.
The Dotsu Code
Life in an eternal struggle dictates its own rules, which affect the whole culture and daily routine of the Itoshins. But it is not chaotic. All the inhabitants of the Ito Empire live by the code of Dotsu, written by Emperor Tosho himself. This is not just a tabula of laws or regulations. This is the philosophy of being. In the code, every Itoshin can find not only how he should live, but also what he must feel. Don’t rush to wonder at the morals of the empire, nor judge them. As an outsider who understands the essence of Dotsu philosophy, I can say that this code is simply a necessity. After all, it gives the Itoshins not only a way of life mapped out as in a textbook, but also fearlessness and immortality. Immortality that is different from that of the Emperor – an immortality of the spirit! With their contempt for fear, the Itoshins reveal the true power and greatness of their people.
The Path of Horror
The most eerie place in all of Elinor!
Jumanna quickly put down the book.
The Path of Horror… of horror!
The desire to read further had disappeared. Suddenly she was revisited by the very same prophetic fear! That familiar fear! The fear that had tormented her before receiving news from the Valley; the fear that had tortured her before the misadventures in the desert
It was as though this book now dragged her away from the present, from the southern deserts to the north, to the Path of Horror, as though something inevitable was going to happen there… something that would change the destiny of mankind forever. And somehow, she, Jumanna Amatt, was involved.
She remembered perfectly by heart what was described further in the book of Azir. The beauty of the Emperor’s daughter Tsvetsho, the way Azir walked along the Path of Horror, how he found himself in the beautiful mountainous country of the Ulutau, how he followed the teachings of the mountain people. Azir described this nation in bright colors; he admired its way of living.
A voice, Jumanna’s inner voice, woke up again and seemed to hint that her fate was closely intertwined with the fate of the representatives of the people of the north. But the main event would take place there, on the Path.
It was only a premonition. But how, after all that had passed, could she not trust it?
Jumanna raised her head, looking at the constellation of the Lion.
“I’ll ask for your help again, great hero,” she whispered.
12.
The next day, Jumanna and her students entered the town of Muo.
CHAPTER 2. The essence of the warrior
Life is given to man for the sake of glory and fearlessness.
1
The dark contours of the fortress of Lauhan, the southernmost outpost of the Ito Empire, appeared out of the thick fog. With each step, everything grew lighter. Signal lights of fortress towers cut the dense white shroud with saving rays.
The group approached the defense ditch.
Just in time!
The bridge has not been raised yet. The Itoshins, unlike other people – Djunits or the traitor-Mechanicum – never used clocks, but the sharp eye of an experienced watchman could always identify the exact time according to the density of the fog. When the time of haze and darkness came, all the bridges rose, windows and shutters on the houses were tightly locked, and bonfires were built on the open areas of the roofs of houses. This was how the Ito Empire met the advent of the time of demons. The demons were scared of the fire, and the defenses of the Itoshins were becoming more effective every year.
This war has lasted for many centuries, but sooner or later the Itoshins will win it!
E’Do gestured Do’Ayve to come to the gate, while he himself turned to the illa.
“Thank you, our good guide! Once again, I propose you share dinner with us at Lauhan, and to go on the return journey in the morning.”
“Thank you, valiant udoğan E’Do,” the illa answered sedately, “but I already said that my duty is to return to Shohan as soon as possible. In seven days’ time, I must conduct a new detachment. The night and demons do not frighten me, for the light that I carry in myself will be stronger than them.”
An illa was what the Itoshinian people called the guides in the fog. The illas were endowed with a special power. They did not become warriors, but at the same time, they possessed the great power of light. They could pass through the most impenetrable veil and not stumble once. Demons did not touch them, for they felt the light. Illas could not take up a sword – thus had their fate been determined!
When an illa was born in an Itoshinian family, there was a feast in the house. Yellow lanterns were hung out on the street, and happy parents gave out sweets to neighbors. The life of the Itoshins was severe, but sometimes there a place for joy to be found. And the birth of an illa was a great joy, for together with the illa, the light was born.
All the illas were white-haired, with thin light skin. All wore white clothes.
An illa named Kanu was one of the most skillful. The Emperor had personally instructed him to lead the detachments to the south, to Laukhan.
The weaker illas journeyed with caravans. But caravans moved along trade routes, where the fog was not as dense, and demons attacked much less often. The strongest illas went into the thickness of the fog under special orders of the glorious Tosho.
Now was just such a case.
The Valley had become deserted. Caravans had stopped coming to Shohan. The Emperor had commissioned the best udoğans to collect the troops and reach the Great Cities as soon as possible. Only the most skillful illas were to lead these detachments, those who found the most difficult and dangerous, but fastest routes.
Do’Ayve had already approached the gate of the fortress and knocked loudly.
“Who’s there?” came a hoarse voice.
“Let the immortal Emperor Tosho be glorious! My name is Do’Ayve. I am the assistant to the valiant udoğan E’Do. Our detachment heads off to the Valley and asks for permission to spend the night in the fortress.”
“May the Emperor be glorious!” the reply sounded from the gate. The heavy shutters creaked, the stretches shook.
“My name is Mitsu,” said a gray-haired guard as he emerged from the gateway toward Do’Ayve. He looked about fifty-five, but it was always considered a sign of cowardice to live until gray hairs. However, Do’Ayve paid attention to the fact that the duty man did not have a right hand. This immediately