"Come," he said. "Let the others exercise for a while. You and I need words."
They walked away from the clearing, into a quiet patch of trees overlooking a moss-covered slope. The sound of distant weapons clashing faded behind them.
Khoryv sat on a stone, gesturing for Kyi to do the same.
"There's something in you—something I've seen once before. In me."
Kyi blinked. "You?"
"I serve two forces as I mentioned before," Khoryv said, folding his hands. "Life and death. Rod and Mara. Few know it. But it is truth."
He looked up at the canopy. "I founded Myrnyi with Mara's blessing. She gave peace. Rest. Dignity in endings. And for that, I gave her prayers and silence."
Kyi remained still.
"But when she turned… when she began hungering for everything… I knew she could not be left unchecked. I helped seal her. And for that, Rod gave me life. Roots. Breath. Renewal."
Kyi whispered: "So you were 'Her' priest?"
He sighed. "Of sorts. I became the paradox. Priest of death, vessel of life."
Khoryv turned to him with searching eyes.
"You too have two gifts. Light and water. From 'Him', and from Dana."
He leaned forward.
"No goddess or god likes sharing. But try again. Dana stood on opposite sides with Mara, you can use it."
Kyi hesitated.
Then nodded.
He walked to the nearby spring. Kneeling, he placed his hand into the cold water.
"Dana," he whispered. "The goddess of rivers and streams, the embodiment of all water. Patroness of the Mermaid Easter. I seek your blessing. I need your grace to fight Mara."
The water shimmered.
No voice. No wind.
Just the sense of permission, quiet and solemn.
The current moved up his arm.
Light twined with liquid.
Kyi stood, heart racing. He focused—and stones nearby rose, water lifting them like breath under wings. He let them fall again, grinning.
Hours passed.
The others returned—exhausted. Weapons limp in hand, armor dented, skin bruised.
They gathered at the campfire, staring at their empty packs.
Yurko muttered, "Still no bread."
Because of a recent encounter with cursed water, they were out of edible food.
Khoryv chuckled.
He tapped the ground.
Roots twisted, pushing upward fruits and vegetables: glowing berries, wild greens, apples thick with juice.
Lybid stared at the bounty. "You can just… do that?"
Khoryv grinned and gave her a sidelong glance.
"You've had Rod's blessing for days and haven't even grown a beet. Girl, you lack creativity and imagination."