Lahat ng Kabanata ng Dark Goddess: Kabanata 121 - Kabanata 130

That was a clear and very annoying threat, the sumptuous furnishings of Rassek's premises left little doubt that he did not indulge in a modest lifestyle and that the small villa he had recently bought and now had furnished devoured a lot of gold. Rassek wanted to go to the rich and important, as it was his due, he had the reputation of the gods and many nobles. If the aristocrats' payment behavior had been better, he would have left the training house long ago, because he was disgusted by his own kind. SiVender was one of the few who paid on time and reliably, you couldn't scare the man away. After all, he paid not only for healings, but also for information about the aristocracy and the gods. He wasn't really allowed to be cured either, which is why Rassek had recently been reluctant to let Anwin recover. But obviously this had failed anyway and could therefore have taken over the healing of the cruel slave trader in the future. But if he threatened to give less wages, he had no c

Anwin took a deep breath and tried to remember what Ubandor had told him about this room. Somewhere on the wall there had to be an inconspicuous door that opened into a small chamber. It housed cleaning utensils. He looked towards the wall and soon found what he was looking for. If you knew the door was there, it wasn't that hard to see. It had been clear to him and Ubandor that Rassek's body couldn't just stay in the area; it had to disappear quickly. With an effort he got up and stumbled the few steps towards the wall, pressing his hand against it. The inconspicuous door gave a little and almost immediately it bounced towards him. He opened it further, turned, and then took a few steps back to Rassek's lifeless body. By one leg he pulled the body to the door and into the narrow, already overcrowded chamber. Then he simply stepped on the body, half of which protruded into the anteroom, and over him. He grabbed his shoulders and heaved him up. In view of his exhaustion, it was unexp

Anwin replied with a neutrality - almost cold - in his voice that he could not feel. On the contrary, he had never been so upset in his life. “Rassek told me a lot, for example, about the fact that the gift - the curse - of healing must run in the family. You inherit them. But my father doesn't have this quality and none of his ancestors had them, I can be pretty sure that something like that will be noticed. So it probably came from my mother, from that woman my father never told me about - and with good reason. She was a woman who lived differently than the gods please. Or still lives that way, in secret. Issa, I suspect your grandmother is my mother! She was the only one who could pass this curse on to me! She must have been about three dozen years old at the time of conception, not too old to give birth. So you can say 'uncle' to me! I think you understand why I'm telling you this now! The short version: I wish you both all the best from the bottom of my heart. You need a person

One of the goddess's gestures made Anwin stand up, which he immediately did. He took the victim's right hand, then took a small step towards the strange and powerful man who was now holding out his scarred hand. Now Anwin could see that his palm was pitted too. Apparently a knife had wounded him years ago. As soon as Anwin touched the scar, his uncanny powers began to work. He was so amazed that he almost broke off contact, because the man was astonishingly old and yet his appearance spoke for youth or at least for significantly less than three dozen years. His aura was bright, a little frayed at the edge, as always with older people, and exuded just as much coldness as his gaze. Now he tried to connect it with that of the victim, the priest, who luckily had no latent healing gifts. The request for another donor would not have been very well received here. Filaments of light wandered from the two auras towards each other, turned around, were linked. Now came the first, ugly deep red

ProloguePROLOGUEThe girl had been sitting at the little table in the unlit corner for days after sunset and the man with the weasel face was watching her from the counter. She wasn't a whore, as she never spoke to anyone and immediately self-confidently nipped in the bud any attempt at contact by one of the male tavern visitors. In order to appear inconspicuous, she had covered her slim figure with a black satin cape, the cape was pulled far forward so that her finely cut features could hardly be guessed. Only a few black curls twisted out of the darkness like hell snakes from a hole in the ground, hinting at a wealth of hair and even in the weak light of the candles the cold, blue eyes could be clearly made out. Even when it was veiled, she was not inconspicuous, she was, as her cloak revealed, wealthy and therefore had no business in a place like this. Now she stretched herself, raised the glass to her lips to drink and for a moment the dark coat gaped ope