Цитаты из книги Cold Obsidian

From long ago, from days of old The Grey Tower guards the world Where snow from northern mountains cold Through open windows swirled. Hark! The winds are singing Howling, loud and shrill, Hark! The winds are bringing Sad news and chill.

Unsleeping, o’er the wide world’s spread The Grey Tower keeps its stand Again, again its stern lord sped To some far distant land. Hark! The winds are singing Howling, loud and shrill, Hark! The winds are bringing Sad news and chill.

From southern realms with promise good He heard the warm wind blow; He’d meet again the one he loved So many years ago. Hark! The winds are singing Howling, loud and shrill, Hark! The winds are bringing Sad news and chill.

And yet though oft some troubles draw Them near, but still apart, Their key to happiness is no more – No meeting there of heart. Hark! The winds are singing Howling, loud and shrill, Hark! The winds are bringing Sad news and chill.

The natives had been watching the two aliens for a long time but the weapons and what they thought was a battle terrified them. Now, reassured by the guests’ smiles and laughter, the Sigillanians came to greet the strange creatures. The voices of those beautiful people were as melodic and tender as a song of tiny silver bells in the night. They were beautiful themselves, those last children of the dying world, all their worries and conflicts washed away by the impending doom and replaced by pure serenity of minds and souls. Just thinking that they and even the memories of them would disappear forever made Kangassk’s heart sink and his eyes fill with tears. There was no way to help them, absolutely no way… The more Kan thought about it, the more it hurt. There is no way to stop such things in a dream, they just keep growing and growing until you snap.

“Ah, my little boy… I have something to tell you before I go…” The captain’s voice was fading away with every passing moment. “Do you remember the stories I told you when you were little? The dragon stories?” A weak, trembling smile touched her bloodless lips. “Yes, yes, I do. Just don’t speak, don’t move, grandma…” he begged. “They’re all true, these stories,” she kept talking. “Emerald dragons. They’re real. Sentient. Curious. They can live for thousands of years but if their destiny catches up with them when they wear their human disguise, they die just like humans do.”

Those were the captain’s last words. Her final message delivered, Ptarmika stopped grasping at life and quietly passed away in her grandson’s arms. Just as the last breath left her body, the crew of the emerald ship heard a piercing cry from the sky. Dragon cry.