Article by Natalia Anikina. This is a guide to sentient creatures in her book The Cat Who Knew How to Cry-
Who would have thought that under these foul scales, there was actually a heart of gold!
Yarnol, a dragon slayer from Dirhdaar, after reading the diary of a Mercurion’s dragon he’d killed due to a misunderstanding
As the article’s title suggests, the creator of these creatures was a Nae by the moniker of Mercurion, meaning Changeable. In Enhiarg, he’s also known as Lord of Wind, although his sphere of influence is actually much larger than just controlling gusts of air. Mercurion commands Space. He’s the one to curse at should you find that your bottomless sack malfunctioned and turned the head of a defeated enemy plus a set of magic wands you’ve been storing in it into something resembling a freakish set of bagpipes. Or when a portal hurls you into quicksand in Preen instead of an hourglass shop in Anlimor. The buck stops with him.
The “children” of Mercurion inherited many talents from their “papa.” They can easily pass through enchanted walls, hop from world to world like fleas from hop from dog to dog, open and close portals without apparent use of sorcery, and achieve flight speeds that would rip any other type of being to shreds. They also command the extremely unpleasant ability to create interference that prevents other creatures from moving from place to place by magic.
An impressive list, isn’t it? Our heroes would make wonderful thieves, spies, contract killers or even raiders… if it weren’t for one little hiccup – Mercurion’s dragons are the quintessential “do-gooders.”
Sparrows in Armor
Looking at these huge, imposing lizards, it’s hard to imagine just how much a Mercurion’s dragon’s nature differs from his threatening appearance. In Enhiarg, they’re known as “sparrows in armor” for a reason. For the most part, they’re unpretentious, carefree and cheerful as little spring-time birdies. Definitely no killing and raiding here…
Thanks to their sincerity, good will, unselfish nature and indefatigable optimism, the children of Mercurion are in a respectable third place in all of Enhiarg’s ratings for most wanted neighbors, after Alae and Adoreans.
Of course, dragons have their faults, too. They can be erratic in their judgments, impetuous, absent-minded, wasteful and impractical; some individuals suffer from retarded emotional capacity, while others, on the contrary, are hot-tempered. But the main drawback of dragons – which is, indeed, their main advantage as well – is their furious, downright maniacal love of freedom.
Live Free or Die!
Mercurion’s dragons don’t brood over stacks of diamonds or burn cities to the ground, or even scorch noble knights, although it would difficult to find a single one who has never kidnapped a young maiden, whether someone’s betrothed or a newly ordained priestess. Princesses, merchants and peasants, pretty and plain alike – it’s all the same to them. Just as long as the girl was being forced into taking her vow.
Dragons can’t bear the sight of others (or their own kind, naturally) being deprived of their freedom. So, if you’re under threat of being joined with some kind of stinking toad (male or female), send word to their consulate. They’ll fly right over, scare the living daylights out of everyone, and won’t leave until you’re firmly on your feet in your new, independent life. Dragons work with a great variety of charitable institutions which aim to help victims of any type of violence. In particular, they manage the well-known organization Break the Collar, which helps former slaves start a new life.
Slavery in general is one of the dragons’ hot topics. They show no mercy for slavers. Indeed, our “sparrows” can peck quite fiercely when the situation calls for it…
Besides slaves and victims of others’ religious or matrimonial plans, they harbor all kinds of dissidents and religious reformers under their powerful wings, who have been sentenced to death for their “subversive actions.” For example, if some folks in Rapa are aiming to execute a scribe for polluting the nighttime streets with copies of vulgar verses on the passionate romance between the king and his domestic farzis, you can bet your tail the dragons will make an appearance. “They’ll come down from heaven and snatch the scoundrel right from the jaws of Veindor.” The performance is aborted, the king is indignant, the peasantry is in chaos, but that’s the risk you take in engaging the children of Mercurion. It’ll probably do more harm than good. Which is why no one bothers.
Some of the honorable lizards have found a way to satisfy their penchant for saving freethinkers in a perfectly legal (and very lucrative) way. Thanks to their unfailing incorruptibility, as well as their ability to stick their noses into any secret office or torture chamber, Mercurion’s dragons make up the core of a body of enforcers of Ellis’ Note. Take heed, ye tyrants and oppressors!
They also defend their own personal freedom with no less fervor. In communicating with anyone who tries to impose their own views on them, dragons disregard manners. If their opponent continues to pressure them, they may become aggressive. Masters of emotional intimidation and similar manipulators are eaten on the spot.
Dragons will never tolerate anything even vaguely resembling coercion. It doesn’t matter if this is done with high-minded intentions or wicked. They do not tolerate it, period. Everyone in Enhiarg remembers this. Even Tialianna, Mistress of Pathmaking, doesn’t assign Paths to dragons. In fact, even if she were to do it, the dragon would more likely head in the opposite direction just to prove a point.
What Purpose Do They Serve in the Infinite?
Mercurion and his children do not play a significant role “in that whole mess with the Paths,” but that doesn’t mean the Infinite doesn’t have a special job in mind for them. Because he does. And what a job it is! The Lord of Wind and his closest companions look after the integrity of the fabric of the Infinite – they make sure sloppy world creators and spacial mages lacking boundaries don’t “bring the universe down on their own heads.” Literally.
It’s very hard to describe what Mercurion’s children look like in dragon form, because modern dragons are for the most part passionate lovers of body modification. They enhance their spikes, implant horns, grow tentacle-mustaches and scales of the most bizarre patterns, and change the color of their armor. Some acquire extra legs and others change the contours of their torso, or the size, structure and texture of their wings. They add additional segments, make the membranes translucent, partially cover them with feathers, tattoos, fur… just about anything you can think of.
Far from all of these modifications are cosmetic in nature. For example, after reading adventure novels about the heroes of old, many dragons were indignant that Mercurion did not give them the ability to exhale anything more dangerous than carbon dioxide – no streams of flame, acid, or clouds of icy fog. How embarassing! Body manufacturers have helped to remedy this blatant injustice…
Describing our heroes in bipedal form is much easier. In it dragons are typically very tall, thin humanoids with sharp, even menacing, features. Most creatures find their appearance scary at first, but their kind, easy-going temper, evident in their facial expressions, speech and mannerisms, quickly nullifies any bad impressions. Their movements are quick and precise, and young dragons stand out because of their amusing clumsiness. If desired, children of the Lord of Wind can leave a smaller copy of their wings on their backs, but they rarely do. The membranes are constantly knocking over things fragile and breakable.
There are two distinct periods in the history of Mercurion’s dragons: the cave period, which took place before the creation of Wings of Sunset, and the civilized period.
Mercurion’s dragons were closer to nature during the first hundred years of their existence than they have been since. Seeing no need to take on bipedal form, they fluttered unseen from world to world, succumbing to their other great passion – the unquenchable thirst for new sensations. They would return home to share their impressions with their brothers, only to fly back out in all directions shortly after.
The dragons lived as “hunter-gatherers,” as they jokingly put it. They hunted for life of any kind beyond the borders of Naeria (they especially liked lunching in the hills of Horned Schamp), and like true magpies, they collected piles and piles of all sorts of shiny trinkets as souvenirs of the places they’d visited. A little later, when their favorite hunting grounds became deserted by the prey (these days shampp, with or without horns, can be found only in the Abyss), the dragons switched to raising cattle. They began breeding various beasts right in the catacombs under the Fangs.
The children of the Lord of Wind resided in large caves. The floors were lined with different varieties of Lurrijan moss, which looked and functioned like giant carpets, boasting bright patterns and “hair” the length of your arm from elbow to wrist. They were regaled by singing toads brought in from the Fragrant Marshes, which the dragons kept in silver cages and cared for in every way (although, if the singers began hitting the wrong notes with consistency, they were immediately feasted on). This rather austere way of life remained unshakeable for centuries…
All the same, there came a point in the dragons’ lives when things began to change. The ancient serpents were inclined to admire scenery, architecture, epic celebrations and battles. All of these they observed from above, remote and detached. However, that did not suffice for the subsequent generations. The young dragons wanted to discover the foreign world from within, in all its glorious detail.
After enlightenment came compassion, first and foremost for those creatures who were being persecuted for freethinking.
Whoever the first dragon was to think of using the Fangs as a shelter for freethinkers, his name has been lost to history. Just the same, for the next few years he and his brothers took in hundreds of creatures and blocked the way to Dragon Fangs for anyone wishing to pursue them.
The guests’ presence made the Fangs unusually comfy and cozy for the dragons. Many of them realized for the first time that these two cliffs were in fact their home, and not some sort of cold, stale inn to fly to when you need to lick your wounds and swap tall tales with random acquaintances. They began to spend more time in bipedal form, as they were fond of visiting non-dragon friends. Some even furnished their small caverns with decor collected during their travels after their new friends’ homes. Still, for a while these rooms were more like warehouses than habitable quarters.
For a while…
The Wings of Sunset Era
A fellow merchant quarreling with the Wings of Sunset would be like a bird cutting off its own wings.
Haaz Farmidar, Owner of The Rat Hole tavern and shop
Many Enhiargeans come to find out “what horror” their world really is when a clerk from WoS, our largest transport company, hands them a neat purple envelope with a letter informing them that service will no longer be available for the foreseeable future. No more portals. Your boat and buggy are your best friends. Before this, Wings’ clients regarded Enhiarg as a kind of apartment with a multitude of rooms, with the ability to move from one room to another being generally overpriced.
Volumes could be written about the formation of this organization, but let’s try and suffice with the cliff notes version. Once upon a time, long ago, there lived a kind dragon from a good bloodline by the name of Elarvyon. He wouldn’t even eat ungodly off-key Lurrijan toads, as he full well could have. Rather, he took them back to their home swamps and let them go free. Such a kind, noble heart! When he began to sing of his travels, everyone around him fell silent. Not a single scale would creak, not one tail would scrape against a stone… And yet, the noble dragon was foolish enough to get involved with that shameless ignominy of the dragon race – Sydelarin an Villaor!
This scaly lady had been very different from the rest of her kind since childhood. As opposed to her peers, who longed to escape parental guidance as soon as they could, she constantly requested that attention be paid to her most magnificent self. “What, you mean to say I’m not as interesting as these snoring towers of yours?” she asked of her father in envy once, as he was excitedly describing the sight to her mother. The old dragon was at a loss. Of course the towers were more interesting! It was the first he’d heard of them. His daughter, on the other hand, was always around…
That attitude offended Sydelarin. She was never bored with herself. While her winged comrades were discovering faraway worlds, Sydelarin was discovering herself. She could stare at her reflection for hours in the cave’s mirrored wall, even though there was nothing new or interesting in her appearance (like the special type of rust that eats dragons’ scales, the “life” of which – on his own paw! – Sydelarin’s brother monitored for three whole days and nights!). But there was something unusual in her self-admiration, although she did not at first understand what.
Some historians, especially those from the sect… we mean, from the movement known as “Back to the Caves!” regard this moment in Sydelarin’s biography as somehow shameful. They forget what thoughts this admiration led to. Sydelarin was the first dragon to pay heed to her own self – first to her external appearance, then to her internal world. She was the first to allow herself to wonder whether it was really her heart’s desire to spend an entire eternity gliding over life – watching it but not living it, recounting intensely and with great enthusiasm other creatures’ ways, hobbies, projects, passions, triumphs and defeats, but if prompted to say something about herself, have nothing to offer but confused silence. In short, one fine day Sydelarin declared, “I want to live my life, to know who I am, what it means to be me, what I want in life and what I’m capable of.” She resolved to find what she loved to do best of all, something that would give her life meaning and make her happy.
She stayed true to her word. The whimsical Lady an Villaor rented half a duplex from one of the “rescued” creatures and started spending all her time in bipedal form, taking on non-dragons’ way of life, as she’d rightly understood that these creatures generally achieved a much greater level of self-actualization than her own tribe. Sydelarin tried her hand in a multitude of pursuits, from cultivating a meaty breed of ampus to painting scales, until one day she offered to help her beloved (and like-minded) Elarvyon in transporting several rebels they’d rescued to Lar’aert’aemori.
No sooner had she taken a dip in the messy, vibrant, engrossing luxury of life in Lar’aert’aemori than she decided she’d found what she had been seeking. Her goal in life became attending as many balls, fancy dinner parties, exhibits and fashion shows as possible. As for self-expression, getting dolled up in a new dress or showing off her mastery of an ancient dance was more than enough for her. But Lady an Villaor’s role in the life of Dragon Fangs did not end there.
It was she who helped Elarvyon discover the wonders of non-dragon life. In studying this new world, he understood pretty quickly how badly “the wingless” needed what he and his kind could easily provide. Elarvyon saw how ridiculously expensive it was for his artist friends to buy rare materials imported from other worlds for their work. He was appalled to see botched sorcerers creating unstable portals that occasionally caused the demise of not only cargo, but those accompanying it as well…
Thus, Wings of Sunset was born. Founded by the winged out of genuine sympathy for the wingless, the organization quickly undercut the inflated prices for spacial displacement. Elarvyon and Sydelarin (who handled marketing and public relations) had to deal with enraged competitors and even fight off several attacks on their office, but they persevered, and what’s more, with each passing year more and more of Mercurion’s children joined Wings. Working for Wings of Sunset became the main source of income for the residents of Dragon Fangs. Branches sprang up all over Enhiarg, and very soon beyond its borders as well. Comparably safe and affordable portal transport was established, and for those who wanted a taste of something a bit more exotic, there was the option to ride on a dragon’s back, which was soon in high demand from clients from all regions and walks of life. After a while Elarvyon expanded the enterprise, adding to transport services the manufacture of botomless bags and all kinds of levitation devices – from racing boards to anti-gravity column-beds.
It goes without saying that Elarvyon, formerly said to be a “poor dear, bewitched by the beautiful yet loopy broad,” became a national hero back on the home front. His fame reached even non-dragon lands. One of the main reasons for his notoriety was that a large portion of the profit from WS went to charity.
However, they couldn’t avoid some unpleasant events, too. One of Elarvyon’s closest associates, Ketaron, went rogue and executed several contracts in the name of the company which violated the organization’s regulations (they say there was even one for transporting slaves!), thus eliciting the wrath of the Dragon Fangs Council and even the Lord of Wind himself.
What prompted Ketaron to commit such acts? Perhaps they were the logical result of his twisted philosophy. After all, there’s a reason many were quoted as saying about him, “He understands freedom, first of all, as freedom from one’s conscience.” Ketaron became indignant on more than one occasion at Elarvyon’s brutally strict honesty and transparency standards in conducting business, and these demands extended to his clients as well. But there’s another version of this tale – that Ketaron wanted to discredit and destroy Elarvyon’s work, because at one time the beautiful Sydelarin had preferred him to Elarvyon.
No matter the reason behind his actions, there was no excuse for them. At first the Council showed mercy and simply banished him. But Ketaron didn’t know when to stop and committed yet another crime, a crime too heinous to publicize here, for which he was sentenced to an unprecedented punishment – he was stripped of the ability to fly. No longer could he lift himself off the ground and into the air by force of will. What’s more, the dragons branded him in their own way – they cut off Ketaron’s wings. None of the forms he took on, no matter how many times he changed his body, were winged.
The criminal endured this terrible punishment with unexpected stoicism. He departed from Dragon Fangs unbroken. He later swiped one of his crumpled wings and wore it as a cape from then on. In honor of this eternal reminder of the pain and humiliation he’d endured, he called his awful creation “the Broken Wing.”
The Broken Wing
You are no longer a dragon. You’re a worm. Live, crawl, and remember the sky to which you’ll never return!
Parting remarks of Samalerd the Black Wing to the outlaw Ketaron
A worm? Crawl? With pleasure! Right into your grave, for it is you who’ve lost your way!
The outlaw Ketaron’s retort to Samalerd the Black Wing
Soon after his banishment, Ketaron learned to his amazement that although Mercurion had stripped him of the ability to fly, for some strange reason he’d left all his other dragon’s abilities untouched. The exile immediately decided how to put them to use. Having observed the formation of Wings of Sunset practically from the very beginning, he knew all of their secrets, all their connections, all the tricks of the trade. This invaluable information, along with the cunning, duplicity and craftiness so unusual among his kin, enabled him to found the Broken Wing with startling speed and efficiency, which became a competing company (and enemy) of WS.
Ketaron did not succeed in luring even a single Mercurion’s dragon to his side, but he managed to recruit and train several talented mages of other races. And if his ill reputation prohibited him from winning over any former clients of Wings (although he tried hard to do so by undercutting their prices), it actually made him incredibly popular in other circles.
The Broken Wing does not turn down orders. Unlike Wings of Sunset, at BW you won’t be asked any questions, like “What (who) are you transporting, where to, and is that legal?” The list of crimes the ladies and gentlemen of the Broken Wing have contributed to includes, but is not limited to: theft, forgery, contraband and smuggling of weapons, forbidden magic items, poisons, drugs and other potions, kidnappings and murders… They also provide a service which has become very popular: enabling wanted criminals to hide in an undetectable magical spatial pocket. For good money, of course. It’s rumored that they’re the ones who helped the infamous killer Burpeh Ulcer escape from Anlimor’s Central Prison.
Little is known of Ketaron’s allies (and that’s understandable – a bandit’s place is in the shadows), and, most importantly, of the future plans he has for himself and his gang – err, company. That said, we mustn’t doubt that destroying Wings of Sunset and exacting vengeance on the native tribe that had exiled him remains high on his list of priorities.
Back to the Caves!
With the appearance of Wings of Sunset and a significant portion of the population becoming involved in their work, which took over the daily routine in Fangs, the dragons’ habits and worldviews underwent profound changes that, like any novelty, didn’t go over well with everyone right away.
A small group of dragons, united under the eloquent slogan, “Back to the Caves!,” believes that their kin have shown gross disrespect to their nature, betrayed their roots and their very creator. (Mercurion, by the way, never once cried foul play.) They consider their way of life to be treachery to Freedom itself! The indignant elders rallied for a return to the golden past, when all children of the Lord of Wind, free from the destructive influence of other races, lived in caves and flitted from world to world, aimless and carefree.
They say it was the “cavers” who’ve insisted on a light first sentence for Ketaron, whom they claimed was but a victim of the unnatural lifestyle imposed on him by Elarvyon. They are still convinced of this, in fact, and never utter the name of the head of Wings of Sunset or that of his spouse without adding the prefix “cursed.”
Despite the absurdity of their slogans, the methods cavers often resorted to in order to enlighten their fellow kin have been far from amusing. For one, they brought the “insidious” non-dragons living in Fangs, along with all their “nasty things” to faraway worlds, where finding them became quite a difficult task. Or they would assume bipedal form and hurl themselves from one of the peaks in Fangs, thus expressing their disavowal of everything non-dragon. They would leave their humanoid bodies once and for all just before they perished, resigned to be content exclusively with their dragon form henceforth.
Their “wayward” kin only shook their heads sorrowfully. They were not prepared to infringe upon the cavers’ freedom by getting involved. They were saddened to watch this awful scene, but… they most certainly did not want to go back to the caves.
(As for our virtuoso of suicide, Enaor an Al Emenayit, he was enraptured by these dragons’ leaps. Every time he learned they were planning another protest, he’d start walking in circles under one of the Fangs. One day he hit the jackpot – he was crushed by a suicidal dragon. When the servants scraped… what was left of him off the ground, Enaor, who had been resurrected in a new body, embalmed that personally, taking a fair amount of pride in himself, and added it to the rest of the exhibits in his vast collection of prematurely deceased bodies.)
The cavers actively fight against the use of portals and other spacial displacement devices, which they consider sacred, for utilitarian purposes. Veterinarian mages have had the most grief because of this. Despite themselves, quack doctors thought of a way to help especially busy clients avoid having to walk their pets. They began installing small portals on the animals’, um, exit holes. The cavers’ outrage knew no bounds. Sacrilege! Blasphemy! I’m not going to paint the scene of the massacre they committed at the oldest such clinic in Anlimor, Clean Carpets. Suffice it to say, it was a ve-e-ery dirty business.
Later on, breeders themselves adopted the practice of using defecation portals, but the cavers got after them significantly less for some reason.
No, I don’t have time. Sheldryazur returned this morning from some fiery hole and he still hasn’t been milked. I’m off to milk him.
A telepathic employee of The Treasury to his associate
The Dragons’ Treasury, Enhiarg’s greatest archive, was not founded by dragons. Rather, it was founded by an Envirze named Traks Seeshur and a human named Alvian, both of whom hailed from the glorious city of Anlimor. The entrepreneurial (like all Anlimorians) individuals that they were, they could not stand to see the dragons’ main treasure go to waste – the memories of other worlds they gathered from their travels. Mercurion’s children never took records; they simply didn’t see the point. They did not possess an especially impressive memory, so that with time most of their knowledge, sometimes invaluable, was lost forever.
This horrified Traks and Alvian beyond belief. They wore themselves out urging Mercurion’s children to keep journals. Some heeded their pleas, but, alas, the dragons’ travel notes were, to put it mildly, a verbal mess. Indeed, dragons’ writing ability is hardly sufficient for signing postcards. The duo had to come up with some other way to get information, and the Anlimorians devised just the thing…
They almost ruined the whole thing by offering the dragons help from telepaths who could extract the right travel memories directly from their scaly heads, and then describe them on their own. There’s no need to explain the reaction of the freedom-loving children of the Lord of Wind to such a request. It was about the same as Nalarites would react if this hapless couple offered to let them take a dip in a lake of fire. But Traks and Alvian caught a break: by pure coincidence, An’si’shial Malaur, the patriarch of House an Kamian, found out about their plans. (Hey, wipe that “Pshh, those cats are everywhere!” smirk off your face!)
The patriarch found a way. Members of his clan had long been using a memory extraction technique that does not involve any sort of inermediary. They would cast a special spell on the most ordinary of objects, enabling the necessary memories to “flow” into the object from the creature holding it, and then be saved inside it. After that, anyone who wishes can take a look and discover only what the eyewitness wanted to show him, and, if necessary, describe what he saw on paper.
To the surprise of Alvian and Traks, who were already packing their bags, Malaur’s idea appealed to the dragons. Of course, their joy was somewhat dampened by the expectation that the Alae would take the reigns of their operation, but the patriarch ended up surprising them. Once again expressing his admiration for the Envirze and the human, he promised them his full support and left, never asking anything for his services… well, except for perpetual use of the archives for his people at no cost. Rumor has it that Tialianna herself had sent him to help create the Treasury.
Life on the Edge of Dream Valley
Don’t listen to him – he’s been sniffing fog!
A typical counter-argument at the Dragon Fangs Council
No matter how the dragons may try to convince everyone of the opposite, proximity to Dream Valley cannot fail to have some effect on them. Of course, living high above the valley is not the same as living right in it; moreover, by the will of Mercurion, westerly winds drive the stupefying fog from Fangs, but certain extraordinary incidents have been known to happen every now and again.
We all remember very well the masquerade ball hosted by Mercurion’s children in honor of the fifteen thousandth anniversary of the founding of Elidan. After inhaling their fill of the fog, these smart-alecky dragons decided to arrange a surprise for the residents of the city celebrating the jubilee. Imitating Veindor’s phantom dragons (Veindor being patron of Elidan and our Nae of Death concurrently), they covered themselves in silver paint, turned translucent to boot, and headed east to congratulate people. (Cool idea, huh? I like it, too.) But they never made it to their destination. About a third of the way there, the dazed dragons forgot which people exactly they were flying to. And so they ended up paying a visit to Cahnerali.
Panic broke out in the cities. Hardly a creature in all of Naeria doesn’t know why Veindor’s dragons arrive on the scene. And still it would have been not that big a deal if the consequences were limited to some crowding and fainting, but no – the pious Cahneralians managed to kill several of their mages, believing them to be secret necromancers, the rotten souls of which the “silver dragons” had flown in to collect. Suffice it to say, the whole situation was quite unpleasant. The Fangs Council was forced to blow a quarter of their annual budget on restitutions and resurrections.
However, insidious though the Valley’s fog may be, it has some very dragon-pleasing properties as well. Or rather, one property. One and all of Mercurion’s children alike adore fog massages – particular types of fumes that impart exceptional tactile sensations. To this purpose, they often organize vacations “in the fog” – alone, in pairs or with entire families.
These “dips” work as follows: a dragon finds a hollow of a suitable size and filled with the right type of fog, stretches out, ruffles his scales so that the smoky wisps can get to his sensitive skin, and wallows in bliss for hours, humming and fluttering his wings. Alas, after this procedure, the ground he laid on stops emitting fog for a while, so the dragons have to limit their pleasure.
Talia Murr an Kamian’s The “Four T’s” Speaking Guide to Enhiarg
The main specifics of my stories are:
1. An original setting concept, particularly its soul-focused essence. Everything concerning souls has special meaning in Enhiarg. Its inhabitants may not know of the bounds of their world, nor of the structure of its artificial stars, but the following points they know for certain:
* souls exist, they can’t be destroyed, and each one of them has a number of innate unchangeable characteristics (which should be identified as early as possible in order to use them in full measure);
* souls in Enhiarg circulate in conformity with certain laws and there are powers that guard the souls’ rights (and I mean rights of all souls, not just souls of some certain “proper” kind — this allows people of Enhiarg to build special relationships with gods);
* living in accord with his soul — no matter how strange it may seem to others — and having a strong spirit, one can attain very attractive abilities (from the ability to unerringly predict good bargains or to fly without using magic to the ability to control someone’s mind or clear lakes from magical pollution).
2. An elaborate fantasy world with unusual races and its special system of “soul magic” and normal magic (for those who want to learn more about it, there is a separate Guide to Enhiarg — https://www.wattpad.com/story/25171885 ).
3. Unusual conflicts. For example, a clash between two powerful forces, one of which treats souls with the greatest deference (after all, the very Universe works towards maximum diversity of the worlds in it in order to help every being find their vocation and live in accord with the unique specifics of its nature in a circle of like-minded people). At the same time, the other force thinks it has a right to do everything it pleases with the souls: use them as power source or a database or remake them to make them serve its purpose…
4. Characters with stories that make many people of any gender or age feel like they can relate to them (according to the readers’ feedback).
+ a large number of sentient felines 😉