Chapter 5:

Protector of Oaths

Beyond Prav

“Bohatier?” Zduhach’s eyes darted in every direction. “That’s funny, he thinks you’re the hero who traveled with Levoslav!”

Lightning split the square.

When the light faded, a blond youth stood where the lightning had struck as though the storm itself had taken human form.

Every prayer fell silent.

Dragomir met the god's gaze.

“I see your throat has healed completely, Perun.”

Zduhach had already loosed another arrow. It raced toward the god’s glowing blue eye.

Perun raised a single finger and the thunder answered.

“Thanks for the confirmation, Perun, Protector of Oaths!” Zduhach grinned. “Looks like my arrows can hurt even you, the strongest god ever!”

Perun tightened his grip around the wooden haft of his axe. “It was just a reflex.”

The faintest hint of a smile appeared on his impossibly young face.

“What are you looking at?” Perun raised his hand and summoned another bolt of lightning upon the barely breathing crowd. Their eyes burst into white flame.

“You asshole! I will defeat you right here, right now!” Zduhach reached for another arrow.

“Hold it, young one,” Perun gestured. “I did not come here to play. I came with an offer.”

“Can you restore what I lost?” Dragomir asked as though he already knew the answer.

“Bring me Veles’ head, and I shall reward you.”

“Veles? I just destroyed him!” Zduhach pointed at Dragomir’s dirty face. “See? That’s his blood.”

“You naïve idiot. Do you think a god would go down so easily?” Dragomir wiped off the blood from his face with his sleeve.

“Indeed. Veles the Negotiator is on the gods’ wanted list.” Perun summoned a bolt of lightning beneath himself and sat upon it as though it were a throne. “Veles has tested our patience long enough. He keeps sniffing around mankind, hoping another fool would sell him the world.”

“So you fear that someone will take him up on the offer.” Dragomir circled around the god. “If someone were to become a bohatier and sell his right to rewrite the rules, Veles could become even more powerful than any of you. But you should all be grateful to him.”

Perun squinted.

Dragomir reached out and took the axe from his hand. Its metal blade had long since lost its shine. “It is said that Perun’s Axe absorbs the blood of everyone it has killed. That's why its blade is dark red.”

“You’re pretty knowledgeable, Debilmir!” Zduhach said.

“But do you know what else this axe is capable of, Zduhach?” Dragomir swung it. The blade struck the ground a breath away from Perun.

Perun instinctively twitched his feet. Then he crouched and picked up the axe. “I will be waiting at Buyan. Bring me Veles’ head.” He rested the axe against his shoulder.

Dragomir yawned. “No. I have no interest in assisting you.”

Perun ran a finger along the cross-shaped sigil on his forehead. The glowing lines shifted ever so slightly. “In that case, I shall give you a little push.”

Thunder shook the marketplace. A heartbeat later, Perun, Protector of Oaths, was gone.

Another bolt tore through the sky.

And it struck somewhere beyond the square.

Every trace of color left Dragomir's face. “T-that’s…!”

Without looking back, he sprinted among the lifeless bodies, the tip of his foot brushing a man's bloody fingers.

Zduhach hurried after him. “W-wait!”

They left the marketplace behind and followed the narrow road leading out of town. The stench of blood and burnt flesh finally gave way to the scent of pine and damp earth. Apart from Dragomir's heavy breathing, only the distant calls of night birds broke the silence.

Please, please be safe…!

“Hey, where are we going?” Zduhach caught up with no issues.

“I didn’t ask you to follow me,” he hissed.

“Perun called you a bohatier. What does it mean?”

“You remember me from the cemetery, right?”

“Of course I do! How is it connected?”

“I already told you my name was Dragomir. If you remember me, connect the dots yourself!”

“Yeah, your parents named you after the legendary bohatier, so?”

Dragomir slowed down and looked back at Zduhach's puzzled expression. Then he shook his head and continued running.

I’m almost there. Nothing out of the ordinary for now. Everything is going to be fine.

Right?

A strange light pierced the darkness ahead.

***

“Father! Father!” Milena's cries carried through the crackling remains of the burning mill.

She fell to her knees, holding the cold hand of the lifeless miller.

The fur across Shkrat's body erupted into needle-like spikes.

“Don't come any closer!” Shkrat snarled, spitting blood between the words. Half of his face had been burned away.

“A long time ago, you domovoy creatures swore to protect the households of your masters.” Perun readied a thunderbolt in his hand. “You gained tremendous power. But in return, your very existence became bound to those households.”

Shkrat panted.

Perun traced the blue sigil on his head. “I’m pleased to see you still honor that oath. But right now, it turned into your weakness.”

Milena kept pulling at her father's body beneath the rubble, though deep down she already knew it was too late.

“I’ll never forgive you!” Shkrat roared. The needle-like spikes shot toward the god like arrows.

Perun deflected them with a single swing of his axe. A few slipped through and buried themselves in his neck.

However, Perun's eyes flashed light blue for an instant, and the needles burned away.

The last load-bearing beams still held. But not for long.

Perun hurled his bolt. The mill collapsed in a shower of splintered wood. Shkrat coughed up another mouthful of blood and fell to the ground.

“Shkrat!” Milena, her cheeks blackened by soot, her eyes bloodshot with tears, let go of her father’s hand and crawled toward the domovoy.

The God of Thunder shot upward and disappeared in the moonlight.

“Shkrat… no… why is this happening?” She put her trembling hands on his face.

“My home…” He barely managed to raise his hand, reaching for the last pieces of the burning mill. But his hand fell short. “…I’m sorry, I couldn’t protect the master.”

“No, don’t speak. We have to get a doctor. You and my father can-“

“Milena… open your eyes.”

“I refuse!” She pressed his head to her chest.

“Unfortunately… we spirits have only one dusha… my lady.”

“I’m your master! I order you to get up and live!”

“Listen carefully, my lady.” His fur rose and fell with each ragged breath. “Please... reach into my right pocket... just do it... take it out.”

Milena reluctantly did what she was asked to. In his pocket, she found a small metal device. Its broken hands pointed to a meaningless hour.

“A pocket watch…? It looks… familiar,” she said, not even realizing she shouldn't have known what the device was.

“He’ll be here soon… ”

“Who?”

“The man you keep waiting for. Take this. You once asked me to keep it until you were ready to remember.”

“But who is this man? Someone from the Far East?”

“Heh... of course you would think so.” Shkrat paused. Every word scraped against his failing throat. “It’s… somebody you hold dear. I can’t tell you… his… name. You will have to… relive the moment… yourself…”

The last tremor passed through Shkrat’s fur. Then it lay still, already beginning to collect the drifting ash.

***

“No way…”

Dragomir and Zduhach finally arrived at the smoldering ruins of the mill.

Milena held the pocket watch in both of her hands and wept.

Ash clung to her hair.

“Milena!” Dragomir immediately pulled her into his arms.

Not even looking at his face, she squeezed him back.

It’s my fault… everything is my fault…

“Milena… I’m… I’m so sorry…”

If only we hadn’t failed…

Zduhach ran toward the riverbank, shouting for buckets and help.