Scene 1: A City begins to heal
Three days had passed since the battle of Pskov.
The city had survived, but it was far from healed. Much of Pskov still lay buried beneath rubble, broken walls, and the remnants of the Giant Tree. Soldiers and civilians worked together among the ruins, clearing debris, tending to the wounded and recovering whatever could still be salvaged. The Temple of Rod had become a temporary sanctuary for those who had survived the battle, its halls transformed into an improvised infirmary where priests moved quietly between rows of beds, tending to the injured.
Inside one of those quiet chambers, sunlight filtered through the temple windows and fell softly across the beds.
Avi slowly opened his eyes.
For several seconds, he couldn't understand where he was. His vision was blurred, his body felt impossibly heavy, and every attempt to move sent a dull ache through his muscles. The scent of herbs and medicine filled the air, accompanied by the faint murmuring of priests treating the wounded nearby.
He stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.
Then his memories returned.
The Giant Tree.
Ostap.
The female assassin, Moraena.
Red Winter's spy.
Simargl.
Avi's eyes widened slightly.
He instinctively tried to sit up.
Pain immediately shot through his body.
"Ugh…"
A priest tending to another patient noticed the movement and quickly approached.
"Easy. Don't force yourself."
Avi stopped and took a slow breath. His body was still refusing to cooperate with him, but his mind was already searching for the others.
He turned his head to the left.
Varun was lying on the neighboring bed.
Unlike Avi, he was already awake. His body was wrapped in several layers of bandages, and one arm rested across his chest. He looked exhausted, but the moment he noticed Avi staring at him, a familiar grin slowly appeared on his face.
"Finally awake, Captain?"
Avi stared at him for a moment before giving a faint smile.
"You're alive."
Varun chuckled.
"Disappointed?"
Avi almost laughed, but the pain in his ribs immediately reminded him why that was a bad idea.
He slowly turned his head to the other side.
Yudhir occupied the bed beside him.
He was awake as well, though his eyes were closed and his arms were folded behind his head. He looked as though he had simply decided that the best way to recover from nearly dying was to sleep through the consequences.
Without opening his eyes, Yudhir spoke.
"Don't move too much, Captain. The priests said your body hasn't recovered yet."
Avi blinked.
"You're awake?"
"I've been awake."
Yudhir finally opened one eye.
"I was just enjoying the luxury of not having Varun shouting."
Varun immediately frowned.
"Hey!"
The exchange brought a faint smile to Avi's face.
For the first time since the battle, he felt something close to normal.
Then his eyes shifted toward the beds across from them.
There, lying directly opposite Avi, was Ruslan.
The younger brother was awake, though he looked considerably weaker than the others. Bandages covered much of his body, and his face was pale from the poison and exhaustion he had endured inside the Giant Tree.
But he was conscious.
Avi's expression softened.
To Ruslan's left lay Andry.
He was awake as well, staring quietly at the ceiling with one arm resting over his bandaged chest. His expression carried the exhaustion of someone who had been pushed far beyond his limits, but there was something else in his eyes now.
Relief.
Because his brother was alive.
And on Ruslan's other side lay Ostap.
Unlike the others, he had not awakened.
His body remained completely still beneath the blankets. His breathing was slow and steady, but he had yet to open his eyes.
Andry occasionally glanced toward him.
Ruslan did the same.
Neither brother seemed willing to look away for too long.
After everything that had happened inside the Giant Tree, having Ostap lying there—alive and in his human form—was enough for both of them.
Avi quietly watched the three brothers.
For a moment, the memories of the dream he had witnessed inside the Giant Tree returned to him.
The old yard.
The wooden swords.
Their laughter.
Timothy watching them from a distance.
And Ostap's voice telling his brothers to keep moving.
Avi's expression became thoughtful.
He had arrived in this world with almost nothing.
A forgotten past.
A few fragments of his mother's voice.
A Dragon God father waiting somewhere beyond his memories.
And a mission to find the brothers-in-arms he had lost.
Yet somehow, in only two days, he had found something he hadn't even realized he was searching for.
People he could fight beside.
People who trusted him.
People who called him Captain.
His gaze shifted toward Varun and Yudhir.
Then toward Ruslan, Andry and the unconscious Ostap.
The feeling was unfamiliar.
But it wasn't unpleasant.
For the first time since arriving in this world, Avi didn't feel completely alone.
The mood inside the infirmary was filled with both relief and sorrow. Many had lost their homes, their loved ones, and everything they had once considered familiar, yet the survivors continued to endure the suffering without giving in to despair. The priests moved from one patient to another, tending to wounds and offering what little comfort they could.
Rusalka was among the first to be discharged. Rather than resting, she immediately joined Ludmila in helping the priests treat the other patients. Ludmila, after finishing her own work, quietly returned to Ruslan's bedside and sat beside him.
Ruslan glanced at her and tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. "Ludmila… I'm okay now. You can go help the other patients or the priests."
Ludmila puffed her cheeks and shook her head stubbornly. "No… I'm not going anywhere. I've finished my work, and now I'm taking care of you."
She had brought a few apples and some rowan berries with her. Without hesitation, she picked up a piece and tried to feed Ruslan herself. Ruslan immediately resisted, embarrassed by the attention, but that only made Andry and the others burst into laughter. Even the usually reserved Rusalka couldn't hold herself back, while Varun found himself staring at her smile for a moment longer than he intended.
"Hey!! All of you, stop laughing!" Ruslan protested, his face turning red.
The atmosphere inside the infirmary immediately became livelier. Even Taras, Boris, and Timothy couldn't help but smile at the sight of the youngest Petrovik brother being tormented by everyone's teasing.
Boris laughed heartily. "My nephew, don't get embarrassed. Even your brother is no different from you. Andry was seen roaming around Novgorod with my goddaughter, Alena. And do you know for how long they were holding each other's hands—"
"Uncle, stopppp—!" Andry protested, nearly getting out of his bed in an attempt to stop Boris before he could reveal anything more.
That only caused another wave of laughter.
Ruslan's embarrassment instantly disappeared, replaced by a mischievous grin as he realized he had discovered his brother's weakness.
"I'll be needing the full details… my precious brother."
Andry stared at him for a moment before finally surrendering.
"Okay…"
The banter continued around them, bringing a brief sense of normality back into the infirmary. Amidst the laughter, however, Avi noticed several unfamiliar people moving between the beds. They clearly weren't from Pskov. Their white tactical coats marked with silver crosses immediately distinguished them from the priests, giving them the appearance of specialized field medics.
Avi quietly asked Yudhir about them and learned that they belonged to the Pirogov Medical Corps (PMC), an independent medical organization summoned from Novgorod by Boris. Unlike the forces operating under Red Winter's jurisdiction, the PMC maintained its independence and possessed considerable influence throughout the country. Their purpose was simple: to treat the injured and wounded without taking sides. During disasters, they even provided treatment free of charge whenever necessary.
From what Yudhir could deduce, an organization operating on such a scale must have considerable financial backing.
Once the healers of the Pirogov Medical Corps arrived, the burden on the priests was significantly reduced. The two groups worked together, moving from patient to patient and tending to the wounded. The PMC also assisted the Veche, the City Council, in searching for and rescuing survivors trapped beneath the ruins.
Pskov had suffered terribly, but its people were already beginning to rebuild. The city had been wounded, perhaps deeply, but its resilience remained. Given time, the people of Pskov would rebuild what had been destroyed.
Outside the Temple, the recovery continued. The temple grounds remained crowded with survivors, priests, soldiers, and healers, while beyond the gates the damaged city slowly began returning to life. From the height of the temple entrance, much of Pskov could be seen stretching outward from the temple at its center. The broken statue of the Guardian stood among the ruins, already being rebuilt alongside the homes and other structures damaged during the battle.
Above them, the sky was bright and clear, scattered with beautiful clouds. A soothing breeze passed through the city, carrying with it something the people had desperately needed after the battle—a reason to look toward the future.
Standing near the temple gates were three men: Timothy Dovmont, Taras Petrovik, and Boris Rykov. Together, they looked over the city while discussing the matters that remained after the battle.
Timothy turned toward Boris with a grateful expression. "Thank you, Commander Boris, for coming to the aid of Pskov. We are deeply indebted to you."
Boris looked away slightly, a trace of guilt crossing his face. "You're embarrassing me, Mayor. It was my city's forces that attacked yours. I should be the one apologizing for their mistakes. I know we cannot undo the atrocities that were committed, but I still hope my actions can somehow lessen the animosity between our two cities."
Taras let out a quiet sigh. "We now know it was all at the bidding of Alexander Nevsky. Even General Gabriel was following his commands. But that doesn't mean his actions will go unpunished."
Boris's expression hardened with determination. "Yes. His fate will be decided by the new Veche of Novgorod and the higher-ups in Red Winter. Most likely, he'll be transferred to the Katorga Tyurma, the Central Jail of Red Winter. Until then, he'll remain in the cells of Novgorod Jail."
He paused for a moment before adding, "And that wasn't my only reason for coming here. I came here to see my nephews… and my brother-in-law."
Timothy smiled faintly. "You must have been surprised to discover you were an uncle when you found out from our young Andry."
Boris glanced toward Taras. "It was certainly a surprise, but more than anything, I was overjoyed to learn that I had three nephews. My parents hid the truth about my sister's marriage because they were too prideful. This old rivalry between our two cities has caused too much bloodshed. I hope our family can become a bridge between the two."
Taras's expression softened, though sadness remained in his eyes. "The day they took her away from Pskov, I thought I would never be able to see her again. Even though your parents hated me for being a man from Pskov, I could never hate them. The memories I shared with her in this city will always remain the most precious ones I have. I never knew she had a brother like you. She too would be proud of you… even though she couldn't wake up from her coma."
Boris's expression became emotional. He looked at Taras with newfound understanding. "I can see why she chose a man like you. You love her even after all these years. I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for you to raise those three brave young men. But you don't need to worry anymore. From now on, they have an uncle."
Timothy chuckled, wiping away the heaviness that had settled between them with his usual humor. "You two brothers-in-law are making this old man emotional."
The two men laughed heartily at Timothy's words, and for a brief moment, the three stood together simply enjoying the peace that had finally returned to Pskov.
After a moment, Boris hesitated before asking nervously, "Zyat (brother-in-law)… won't you come to Novgorod to see her? Even Alena would be happy to see all of you."
Taras fell silent.
The thought of seeing her again frightened him more than he wanted to admit. He didn't know what he would say or how he would react. For years, he had carried the weight of believing he had failed her when he let her go because of her parents' wishes. He knew that the moment he saw her lying in that condition, all the emotions he had buried would come rushing back, and he was certain he would break down.
Timothy noticed his hesitation and gave him a firm slap on the back, the gesture carrying the warmth of an old friend.
"Hey, be a man, my old friend. Go and see your wife. You cannot make her wait anymore."
Taras slowly looked toward the city before his expression finally softened with resolve.
"Okay… I'll go to Novgorod to get my wife back."
Boris smiled.
After years of loneliness following the death of his parents, his life was finally beginning to change. His sister would have her family back, his nephews would have an uncle, and his goddaughter would gain a new family.
For the first time in a long while, the future didn't seem so distant.
Scene 2: The Names of the Fallen
The next day was one of remembrance.
A small memorial had been prepared within the courtyard of the Temple of Rod for those who had lost their lives during the invasion. The ruins of Pskov still surrounded the temple, but the courtyard had been carefully cleared for the ceremony. Candles burned before simple wooden markers bearing the names of the fallen, while offerings of bread, apples, rowan berries, and flowers were placed beside them. The priests stood quietly before the gathered people, their solemn voices carrying through the courtyard as the Trizna began.
Many of the citizens attended, standing shoulder to shoulder despite their grief. Those who were unable to come mourned elsewhere in silence, carrying their own memories of those who would never return. The heroes who had fought for Pskov also attended, some still bandaged and others barely recovered enough to stand. Nobody spoke loudly. Even the children seemed to understand that this was a moment meant for the dead.
The priests began the rites of remembrance, offering prayers for the fallen and asking Rod to guide their spirits beyond this world. Food and drink were placed before the memorial as offerings, while the names of the dead were read aloud one after another. Some people bowed their heads. Others wept openly. A few simply stared at the flames of the candles, unable to accept that the people they had spoken to only days ago were now nothing more than memories.
Andry stood among his brothers, listening quietly.
Then a name reached his ears.
Domna Tereshkova. Chief of Stersly, Pskov Branch.
His expression froze.
For a moment, the courtyard around him disappeared.
He remembered Stersly.
He remembered her.
Domna had been more than the Chief of the Pskov Branch to him. She had trained him, corrected him, scolded him and, whenever nobody was watching, cared for him like an elder sister. After his mother, Domna had been the maternal figure he had looked up to the most. She had taught him countless things that had nothing to do with Stersly or combat—how to avoid his father's scolding, how to play Lapta, Babki and Talvei, and countless other little tricks that had once seemed insignificant.
Now those memories hurt more than any wound.
He had so many things he wanted to tell her.
About Alena.
About finding his uncle Boris.
About his brothers.
About everything that had happened since he left Pskov.
But he had never even been given the chance to see her one last time.
Andry lowered his head as his hands slowly clenched.
I couldn't even say goodbye...
Domna had been the first person to deduce that something was wrong. She had followed information from her sources and attempted to warn Mayor Timothy, but her efforts had been betrayed by Yaroslav Vladimirovich, Rosgvard Guard Commander of Pskov. He had disappeared from Pskov before the invasion began, leaving Domna behind to face the danger alone. No trace of her body had been recovered.
Andry's eyes trembled.
The woman who had once stood beside him, correcting his stance and laughing at his childish mistakes, was gone.
Time had not even allowed him one final farewell.
Beside him, Ruslan noticed his brother's silence but said nothing. Andry simply remained there, listening as Domna's name joined the names of the fallen.
A short distance away stood Gavriil Vsevolodovich, the Red Army Commandant who had finally reached Pskov the previous night. His arrival had come too late.
The sight of the ruined city had devastated him.
Pskov had been reduced to broken streets, collapsed homes, and shattered lives. Among those lost were people he had personally known, including Domna. His grief had quickly turned into fury when he learned of Gabriel's actions and Alexander's role in the disaster.
He had wanted to kill Gabriel and his men the moment he arrived.
Only Boris had managed to stop him, reasoning with him until the Commandant's anger subsided enough for him to listen. Gabriel might have been a fellow Commandant, but this time he had crossed a line that could not simply be overlooked.
Gavriil stood silently during the Trizna, his expression heavy with grief.
He had already made his decision.
Gabriel would answer for what he had done.
And Alexander would answer as well.
If necessary, Gavriil would personally see that Gabriel was dragged to the depths of the Katorga Tyurma, the Central Jail of Red Winter.
But today was not for vengeance.
Today was for the dead.
The priests continued the ceremony, their voices rising and falling in solemn prayer. The people bowed their heads as the offerings were placed before the memorial, and the flames of the candles flickered gently in the morning breeze.
Avi stood quietly among the others.
He watched the people of Pskov mourn those they had lost, realizing that the battle had not truly ended when the Giant Tree fell. For those who remained, the consequences would continue long after the battlefield became silent.
Beside him stood Yudhir and Varun, both still recovering from their injuries. Rusalka remained nearby, while Boris stood with his nephews. Taras Petrovik watched his sons with a quiet sadness, his expression carrying the weight of everything he had almost lost.
Nobody needed to speak.
The silence said enough.
The people of Pskov had survived, but survival had come at a terrible price.
As the final prayers of the Trizna were spoken, the gathered people lowered their heads together. Some cried for parents, some for children, some for friends, and some for people whose names they had never even known.
Yet they mourned them all.
Because every life lost had been a part of Pskov.
And now, their memories would become part of the city itself.
The ceremony slowly came to an end, but nobody rushed to leave. The candles continued to burn before the memorial, their small flames standing against the morning wind.
For those who survived, the Trizna was not simply a farewell.
It was a promise to remember.
By evening, the heroes of Pskov had gathered inside a makeshift temporary tent along with the two Petrovik brothers and three other men—Boris, Gavriil, and Timothy.
The accommodations throughout Pskov were still being rebuilt after the devastation of the crisis, leaving the tent as their temporary meeting place.
They had gathered to discuss the city's current situation—and, more importantly, what they would do next.
Gavriil stood before the group. The sternness usually associated with the Red Army Commandant of Pskov had softened, replaced by genuine gratitude.
Gavriil: "I am Gavriil Vsevolodovich, Commandant of the Red Army forces in Pskov. I must express my deepest gratitude to every young hero gathered here. Without your aid during the crisis, we might not have survived. You protected our city when it needed you most."
He bowed his head slightly.
Gavriil: "Thank you."
Avi shook his head.
Avi: "We only did what was right, Commandant Gavriil."
Timothy: "Nonetheless, you arrived at precisely the right moment. May Lord Rod's blessing remain upon us."
Yudhir glanced toward Avi before speaking.
Yudhir: "We only followed our Captain's orders."
Varun rubbed the back of his nose, visibly embarrassed by all the praise.
Varun: "You're flattering us too much. Enough already."
A small smile spread across Gavriil's face.
But Boris soon brought the conversation back to reality.
Boris: "So, what's your next move? I doubt Red Winter will simply leave this matter alone. They'll investigate what happened here."
He paused.
Boris: "And if what you three told us is true—that you're not from this country—then things could become troublesome. Without proper identification, you could be detained simply for traveling without proof of identity."
The three members of Dragon Fury fell silent.
Although Varun and Yudhir had arrived in this strange world before Avi, they had spent most of their time hiding from the public. Varun was eventually been discovered by Gabriel, while Yudhir had remained hidden.
Until now, they had managed to avoid drawing too much attention.
But after the battle in Pskov, that was no longer possible.
Timothy finally broke the silence.
Timothy: "Don't worry. I've already prepared identification documents for all three of you. They will establish you as citizens of Pskov."
The three boys looked at him in surprise.
Timothy: "Still, I'd advise you to keep a low profile for some time. Red Winter may not stop at the events of the crisis."
Avi bowed his head gratefully.
Avi: "Thank you, Mr. Mayor. You've done far more for us than we could have asked. We won't forget it."
Gavriil smiled.
Gavriil: "The gratitude is ours. So consider Pskov your home. Whenever you need somewhere to return to, you will be welcome here."
Avi, Varun, and Yudhir exchanged glances.
They smiled.
For the first time since arriving in this unfamiliar world, something felt strangely familiar.
Home.
Even though it existed in another world.
Avi soon returned the conversation to the reason they had gathered.
Avi: "Our next objective is to find our missing friends."
Everyone's attention returned to him.
Avi: "I've already received information about the whereabouts of one of them. Apparently, there's a rumor about a boy who carved a tunnel through an entire mountain just to create a path for a wandering tribe known as the Oboren."
Boris frowned thoughtfully.
Boris: "I've never heard of the Oboren. But there are countless tribes scattered across our lands. Someone among them may know something."
Timothy looked toward Ruslan.
Timothy: "Perhaps our young scholar could give us a proper rundown."
Yudhir, Varun, Gavriil, and Boris simultaneously turned toward Ruslan.
Ruslan froze.
He blinked several times as everyone's attention suddenly landed on him.
Avi and Andry, however, merely chuckled.
Ruslan cleared his throat.
Ruslan: "Ahem... well, then. I suppose I'll start from the beginning."
He straightened himself.
Ruslan: "Our country is divided into seven city-states. You already know about Pskov and Novgorod. Alongside them are five others."
Ruslan paused for dramatic effect before continuing.
Ruslan: "They are—"
He began counting them off.
Ruslan: "Pskov — City of Twin Rivers.
Novgorod — City of a Thousand Markets.
Kiev — City of the Golden Forge.
Suzdal — City of a Hundred Fires.
Tver — City of Green Waters.
Polotsk — City of Hidden Paths.
And finally, Moscow — City of Seven Thunders (the Capital)."
Yudhir quietly began taking notes.
Ruslan continued.
Ruslan: "Beyond the seven city-states are four autonomous regions. Their peoples govern their own lands and remain largely outside Red Winter's direct influence."
His expression became more serious.
Ruslan: "In the north lies the White Northern Council, representing the peoples of the Northern Tundra Sphere."
He moved to the next.
Ruslan: "Across the western forests is the Three River Circle, belonging to the Western Taiga Sphere."
Another.
Ruslan: "Farther east lies the Amur Fellowship, representing the peoples of the Central and Far Eastern Sphere."
Finally, he pointed toward the south on the map.
Ruslan: "And in the mountains lies the Sayan Oath Alliance, spanning the Southern Sayan Mountain Sphere."
Avi listened calmly.
Yudhir continued writing everything down.
Varun, meanwhile, looked increasingly overwhelmed.
Varun: "Whoa, whoa... slow down, my boy. Give me some time to remember all of that."
Yudhir immediately looked at him.
Yudhir: "That's because you're dumb."
Varun: "Hey!"
Laughter erupted throughout the tent.
Even Gavriil couldn't suppress a smile.
Ruslan laughed along with them.
For the first time since the battle, he saw everyone genuinely smiling.
And somehow, seeing them laugh made something inside him loosen.
The memories of his family still hurt.
But for a brief moment, the pain wasn't overwhelming.
It was replaced by something warmer.
Something that reminded him of the days when his family had still been together.
Avi eventually turned toward Ruslan.
Avi: "Ruslan... there's something I wanted to ask."
Ruslan looked at him.
Avi: "Are you going to visit your mother in Novgorod?"
Ruslan's expression immediately changed.
The smile disappeared.
He hesitated.
The thought of finally seeing his mother again filled him with conflicting emotions—relief, excitement, fear... and uncertainty.
Andry's expression became equally tense.
The two brothers exchanged a glance.
Boris noticed their uneasiness.
He stepped forward and placed a hand on each of their shoulders.
Boris: "Whatever happens, you won't face it alone."
The brothers looked toward him.
Ruslan eventually nodded.
Ruslan: "Yes, big bro..."
He took a breath.
Ruslan: "Our whole family is going to Novgorod to bring our brother back."
Avi smiled.
He couldn't help but think about how much Ruslan had changed.
When they had first met in the forest, Ruslan had been little more than a frightened boy caught in circumstances beyond his understanding.
He had been the first human Avi encountered after arriving in this strange world.
And from that first encounter, a genuine connection to this world had slowly begun to form.
Yudhir: "I've heard people saying that Novgorod is the largest commercial hub in the country."
Andry nodded.
Andry: "That's true. It's called the City of a Thousand Markets for a reason."
Avi's eyes lit up slightly.
Avi: "Then perhaps we should travel to Novgorod with you."
Ruslan looked at him.
Avi: "If merchants from all across the country gather there, we might be able to learn something about our missing friends."
Ruslan's face immediately brightened.
Varun: "Wait... we're really going together?"
His earlier confusion about the city-states had completely disappeared.
Ruslan grinned.
Ruslan: "Then let's pack your things too!"
Yudhir smirked.
Yudhir: "Look who's excited about the trip."
Avi laughed.
Avi: "He was always up for an adventure."
Varun: "What's that supposed to mean?"
The tent filled with laughter once again.
After spending some time talking, the group finally began making their way toward their temporary quarters.
The city was slowly settling into the quiet of night.
But before everyone could leave, Gavriil raised his voice.
Gavriil: "Wait. There's one final matter."
Everyone turned toward him.
Gavriil: "It has been decided that the Petrovik family, Guard Commander Boris, and Avi, Yudhir, and Varun will depart for Novgorod tomorrow."
He looked toward the group.
Gavriil: "The necessary supplies will be placed in the carriage. I'll also provide official letters for diplomatic communication with Novgorod. Consider them a gesture of peace and cooperation between the two cities."
Timothy nodded.
Timothy: "Your identification documents will be ready by tomorrow. You'll receive them from the person assigned to the carriage."
He paused.
Timothy: "And there's another thing."
Avi looked at him.
Timothy: "If you eventually travel to Kiev, you should consider having your personal weapons forged there. Kiev possesses some of the finest weapon masters in the entire country."
Varun's eyes immediately lit up.
Varun: "Now that's something I want to hear about."
Yudhir sighed.
Yudhir: "Of course you do."
The meeting finally ended.
Gavriil, Timothy, and Boris departed first, leaving the others to make their way toward their temporary quarters.
The two Petrovik brothers accompanied them for part of the journey.
Then Varun suddenly stopped.
There was something that had been bothering him for some time.
Varun: "Hey... guys?"
Everyone looked back.
Varun: "Do you know where Rusalka has gone?"
His smile faded.
Varun: "I haven't seen her since the Trizna."
Ruslan stopped walking.
His expression immediately darkened.
He had known this moment would eventually come.
Andry looked at his brother, confused.
Avi and Yudhir exchanged glances, realizing they hadn't seen Rusalka for quite some time either.
Varun looked directly at Ruslan.
His questioning eyes demanded an answer.
Ruslan finally lowered his gaze.
Ruslan: "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, Big Brother Varun."
Varun's expression changed.
Varun: "What do you mean?"
He stepped closer.
Varun: "What happened to her?"
Ruslan swallowed.
Ruslan: "She's already left, Pskov."
Varun froze.
Ruslan: "She told me not to tell anyone."
He hesitated.
Ruslan: "Especially you."
Silence.
For several seconds, Varun simply stood there.
He couldn't believe it.
She had left.
Before he could tell her what he had wanted to say.
Before he could even say goodbye.
The excitement that had filled him moments earlier disappeared completely.
Without another word, Varun turned away and slowly walked toward the resting quarters.
Nobody tried to stop him.
There was nothing they could say that would make the pain disappear.
They could only watch as their normally cheerful companion disappeared into the darkness, his shoulders slumped.
Andry lowered his head.
Andry: "Poor Varun... He seemed so excited about going to Novgorod."
Yudhir watched Varun disappear.
Yudhir: "I know him. He'll bounce back."
Avi looked toward Ruslan.
Avi: "Did she tell you where she was going?"
Ruslan nodded.
Ruslan: "She only mentioned that she was heading toward the Western Taiga first."
He paused.
Ruslan: "After that... she said she was going to Tver — the City of Green Waters."
Avi remained silent for a moment.
So did everyone else.
The journey that had seemed so exciting only moments ago had suddenly become more complicated.
Eventually, everyone returned to their quarters.
Tomorrow, they would leave Pskov.
A new journey awaited them.
Novgorod.
A city of merchants, travelers, secrets, and a thousand markets.
Varun was still shaken by Rusalka's departure, but with the quiet support of his friends, he eventually managed to fall asleep.
Outside, moonlight washed over the battered city of Pskov.
The reconstruction had only begun.
Yet for the first time in many days, there was peace.
The people slept beneath the quiet night sky, unaware of what awaited them beyond the city walls.
And somewhere beyond those walls, another chapter of Dragon Fury's journey was already waiting.
Their next adventure was on the horizon.