«You’ll catch up, poet,» the necromancer waved his hand and walked towards the transport stop.
The sorceress, limping on her leg that was broken on the asphalt (and she only now felt pain in her knee), trudged behind. She still had nowhere to go, and this young man, whom she saw at the most terrible moment in her life (or death), could explain something. What if the ticket was his doing?
«Excuse me, Dan,» she interrupted the short pause, «what did these airport orcs want from you?» Who is Pink Fifa?
– Dan doesn’t know. «Dan is coming to catch Pink Fifa,» he answered dryly and looked back towards the fence.
The persistent dragon had already climbed back, unfortunately for the skeletons, and was rushing after the owner and his random sorceress acquaintance. The necromancer slowly walked to the stop, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the sky. Alina kept trying to look into his face, but the sharp-nosed magician kept turning away from her.
«Dan, Dan,» she became too intrusively attached to him.
– Tell me, beautiful girl, where in this city should the polyglot magician live?
She stared questioningly at the foreign tourist.
– Dan wants to know Russian without an accent. Then Dan tells the beautiful girl Alina why being with him is dangerous.
«But,» the sorceress became embarrassed, «I have never been beautiful.» I’m ugly.
He stopped abruptly and turned around, grabbing her hands.
– There is no such thing as an ugly girl, every girl is beautiful!
If he had paid attention not only to the self-critical Alina, he would have noticed how his dragon suddenly stopped and began to finish writing the poem.
– And also, Dan, it doesn’t matter to me that it’s dangerous with you, since only you can explain to me what happened to me. You saw it all. You were in non-magical Novosibirsk. And maybe you know who sent me the plane ticket. I don’t know where to go, who to look for, what is expected of me, why did I leave that life? Let me be by your side until I find the answers to my questions. My intuition tells me to do just that.
«No,» the necromancer snapped, quickening his pace.
– Yes! – the sorceress answered persistently, catching up with him. «I saw how helpless you were.» You don’t know how to cast combat spells, and your poet can’t even breathe fire on the enemy to protect you!