Ilya Mazellov

One hot day, the samurai Danya Kashin was standing guard when poor townspeople approached the gates for alms. While his mother begged for food, a young man, Ilya Koryakov, sat nearby. He was indifferent to his surroundings, but there was something predatory in his gaze that made Danya tense. Ilya turned, meeting Kashin's blue eyes with his own green ones. His mother's prayer had borne fruit: they received a basket of food. Before leaving, one of the guards remarked that the son didn't look like his own blood. Koryakov calmly replied, "And I'm not his own blood; my mother found me in the forest..." As they left, their gazes met again, and Ilya's green eyes seemed to hypnotize the warrior, leaving a sticky, unsettling feeling.

Danya was usually devoid of curiosity, but the instinct that saved him in battle screamed: he was missing something important. All day, Kashin tried to push away the obsession, reminding himself of his sacred duty. However, that night, he didn't sleep a wink. Koryakov's predatory image reappeared before him. He was no ordinary beggar: his movements betrayed a hidden strength, his words a terrifying logic. He had a certain breeding about him, not the kind bestowed by upbringing, but the kind that flows in his blood. Danya was alarmed by his correct posture, hidden beneath his rags, and the confident way he held himself before the guards.

In the morning, Danya went to the gate. The square was empty, but deep footprints remained in the sand. It was a challenge: the boy had deliberately left them, inviting them to find him. Danya followed the path to the outskirts, where the huts huddled. Near one of them, he paused, listening to the whispers. "He will kill us!" his mother feared. "He won't kill us," Ilya answered evenly. "He will come. He is looking for answers. Mom, we are not here by chance. I knew I would meet him. It is fate." Danya shuddered. A simple poor man would not have spoken of karma with such confidence. Kashin moved closer to a crack in the wall. Ilya was sitting by the fire, his eyes glowing with a cat's light. "He is standing behind the wall," Koryakov said without turning around. "Come in, samurai. I knew you would come to my doorstep.