They could already see the walls of the Fort, but the booming of explosions still echoed through the valleys like the relentless echoes of thunder, even hours after they had left the front line. With every flash reflected in the heavy clouds, the sky was painted red and blue, as if fire and ice were battling for space among the stars.
By the time they reached the gates, night had already spread over the world. Everyone was exhausted after the journey which, though smoother and less hostile than before, still took its toll. Nikolai recognized the watchmen, but they seemed oblivious to everything except the distant flashes. There was anxiety in their eyes, and even the most experienced trembled at the sight of the spectacle on the horizon.
"Open the gates!"
shouted the young woman leading the group, her voice tense, almost breaking.
The cry snapped them out of their trance, and one of the guards, finally noticing movement near the gate, raised his spear in alert.
"Halt! Identify yourselves!"
"Recruit Mila Ivanovna, from the General Pavel Morozov's Armored Support Unit. I am returning with Lord Ivan's students. I need to report the incident at the Strait to the Sobolevs, by order of Anna Morozov, acting general"
she answered, nearly breathless, but firmly.
"Acting…?"
A dry shout echoed from the Wall, laden with confusion and fear.
Mila seemed stunned. She didn't know what to do — after all, she never imagined she would be the one responsible for saying what weighed so heavily on her chest. Nikolai saw it. The fatigue and cold of the North exacted too high a price for shyness and fear to cost them more time.
Without hesitation, he stepped in front of the woman, who was still stumbling over her words, and shouted loud enough for all to hear:
"General Pavel Morozov is dead."
Finally, the sound of scraping metal indicated something was happening. Mila looked at Nikolai and gestured her thanks. She herself still felt lost about how to say it — but in the end, she realized there was no easy way to deliver that news. Now, she saw clearly that everyone was too worn down after the sudden escalation. After all, they were all just students, just as she once had been.
She understood that her hesitation only hindered them, and so she understood what Nikolai had done. He, in turn, after stepping up and announcing the truth, began to wonder whether he had made a mistake. However, when she thanked him, he felt a bit more at ease.
As they waited for some response from the other side, Nikolai began to see Mila differently — as someone guiding them. His white bear, too small to ride, walked beside him, nearly hidden beneath the snow-draped cloak. There was no grandeur in the creature — but there was something latent. It was as timid as its owner, but exuded a dense, almost electric aura that made one thing clear: its strength wasn't in its body, but in its magic.
Mila now seemed calmer, away from the flashes of battle — but that calm shattered when the gate opened.
When it finally did, it revealed an armed woman mounted on an imposing brown bear. She observed the group attentively, but her first question was not for them:
"Where is Ivan?"
For a moment, Mila hesitated again. Her mouth opened, but no words dared come out. When she finally spoke, her voice was harsh, forced, as if spitting stones:
"Ivan is fighting…"
The words hung in the air like ice cracking in deep waters. The silence of the guards said it all: disbelieving looks, held breaths.
Until a new voice cut through the night — soft, yet irresistible:
"What are you all doing just standing there? Help the children find shelter. They'll freeze out here."
That voice had none of Ivan's brutality, none of Mila's tension, none of Marina's malice. It was clear as water and light as the wind, a whisper capable of reaching every ear without wounding. Yet it carried something hidden, an authority that made everyone's spine tingle.
"Miss Marya…"
One of the guards flinched, clearly startled for not having noticed the old woman beside him.
"Forgive me."
"Boys and girls, please, come with me!"
Everyone began rushing inside, their bodies groaning against the cold. Inside, they finally saw the woman who had given orders even above Marina's: an elderly lady bent by age, wrapped in a worn cloak.
Her eyes, however, glowed in the darkness like sparks, scanning every face.
Every word she spoke, no matter how sweet it sounded, carried a weight that chilled to the bone.
"Come in quickly. Bathe and eat something…"
she said, placing a hand on Mila's shoulder.
"You… tell me exactly what happened."
Nikolai noticed the tremor in Mila vanish like ice melting under the sun. It was clear: the old woman was using magic. But exhausted, hungry, and broken, he didn't care. Being inside the Fort meant being safe.
After a bath in warm water, the food didn't help — it was cold, bland, flavorless — but no one complained. After all, it was all there was, and it was clear they hadn't expected the students to return so soon.
No one rushed them to finish eating, but even so, they devoured every bite quickly before dispersing to their rooms. Everyone was exhausted beyond what seemed humanly possible.
Nikolai, along with Ashen, ignored the restless chatter of his peers, who were still trying to make sense of the day's events.
When he reached the room, startling Viktor and Fedor with his sudden entrance, he didn't go into detail. The truth was too heavy to speak. He simply threw himself onto the bed beside the bear, and within seconds, sleep took him — dreamless, strengthless.
___________________
"That's basically what happened."
The next morning, the dining hall was crowded. The smell of stale bread and hot broth wasn't enough to mask the atmosphere. The confessions and accounts from the previous night had spread like fire through dry straw, and for the Fort's residents, it was like new blood in their veins: exaggerations, theories, and distorted versions sprang up from every corner.
Nikolai, sitting in silence, kept the facts sharp and vivid in his mind, like fresh scars. But with every minute, he heard versions growing ever more distant from the truth.
"I heard Pavel killed two winged ones with the help of a black bear, and only died because he was caught off guard by an Inquisitor!"
said an excited boy.
Nikolai clenched his fists under the table. The absurdity was growing far too quickly.
"Shut up, you idiot."
another shot back.
"You really think a black bear could cast magic or even fight on equal footing with a wyvern?"
The noise of overlapping conversations filled the hall, but Nikolai spoke quietly, firmly, and even his roommates heard:
"The truth is far from glorious. Pavel could've pulled back and let Ivan take over after the first battle. I don't know why he didn't."
his voice was heavy.
"But that's not even the most surprising thing."
Viktor and Fedor went silent, leaning in, waiting for his conclusion.
"I don't know how Ivan was able to use magic."
The words hung in the air like cold smoke. Viktor and Fedor exchanged glances, confused. The look in their eyes gave them away: no one knew exactly what Ivan's bear was. If they did, they would've understood Nikolai's doubts. He himself was beginning to form a theory, but the only person who might be able to answer it was someone he didn't have the courage to ask.
His eyes turned toward Marya. The old woman sat at a distance, unmoved by the feverish conversations, her eyes still as ancient ice.
Only after a long while, when the voices seemed to have settled and curiosity had been somewhat sated, Marina stood beside her great-grandmother — but was held back by a simple, wrinkled hand.
"Let me speak with them."
Nikolai nudged Viktor and Fedor. In the next instant, everyone noticed: Marya was on her feet, watching the entire hall. She didn't need to raise her voice or move her hand. Silence fell like heavy snow, smothering any attempt at whispering. Fear did the rest.
"Good morning, everyone."
She tried to sound pleasant, but her voice carried a rhythm that sent shivers down even the bravest spines.
"As you may know, Ivan is still at the front. But rest assured: all outstanding issues have been resolved, and the enemy has retreated."
However, Ivan chose to remain for a few more days, for personal reasons that are not mine to question.
The fact is, with his absence, some of the younger ones would be left idle. That's why my granddaughter and I will be handling this matter.
"The students who were with him will be divided between the two of us."
She pointed with her chin.
"The names are being written on the board behind you."
"I hope you all understand the delicacy of the moment, but I look forward to seeing new faces in my classroom."
She turned slowly, her cloak dragging across the stone floor. Before leaving, however, she cast a direct glance at Nikolai and his gray bear. It was brief, but heavy enough to make him feel as if he'd been seen from the inside out.
As soon as Marya disappeared from the hall with her granddaughter, the tension shattered like thin ice under heavy boots. The dining hall burst into murmurs and the scurrying of students with black bears, chairs scraping across the stone floor. Everyone rushed to the board at the back of the hall, unable to resist their curiosity.
The chalk, suspended in the air by an invisible force, slid across the dark surface on its own. Each stroke appeared slowly, as if an unseen hand were writing in silence, line after line. The sound was almost hypnotic — the dry scratch of the chalk against stone echoed like a whisper through the hall. Name after name appeared, followed by a faint glow indicating the designated classroom.
With each new word formed, students held their breath, anxious, until the next name appeared. Some sighed in relief, others groaned in frustration. But one feeling was shared among all: no one wanted their life tied to Marya's.
A boy in the back muttered:
"If I end up with her, I'd rather request a transfer to the front line…"
The comment drew nervous laughter, but it was quickly swallowed by the silence that followed. The sense that the old woman could still hear them, even from afar, made every joke sound like a sin.
Nikolai, however, didn't even get up. He already knew where he would end up. He preferred to ask in another way.
"Viktor… what do you think of Marya?"
His friend, bonded to a blue bear, took a deep breath before answering.
"Honestly? Her classes aren't bad. She knows everything about magic and teaches well. She's scary, but… once you get to know her, she can actually be kind."
Fedor scoffed, outraged.
"What? Kind? She's insane! She punished a boy just for messing up a simple gesture and nearly burned him alive with that weird magic of hers!"
The contradictory opinions confused Nikolai even more. Was the old woman merely hiding some kind of standard, choosing when to be a teacher and when to be an executioner? Or was her logic so obscure no one could understand it?
Either way, he already knew: he would have to find out for himself.
Nikolai got ready, but this time he didn't rush. He knew Viktor and Fedor would guide him to the designated room — and they did. When he arrived, he immediately noticed the difference.
Unlike the open and cold area where Ivan used to teach, this place was enclosed: an oval room, with damp stone walls, vaguely resembling his old classroom. The students had already taken their seats, but the division was clear. The Blue Bear tamers filled the central rows, well lit by torches, while those with Black Bears were pushed to the back, cramped together as if they were intruders in their own space.
"Good luck, Nikolai."
said Viktor with a half-smile before heading to the Blue Bear section.
Fedor followed, sitting beside him, both comfortable among their own.
Nikolai, on the other hand, walked silently to the back. He didn't want to impose his presence on the others, much less stir conflict. He chose to blend in with the Black Bear tamers.
In truth, the only creature — or rather, animal — happy with Nikolai's new routine was Ashen, who spent his mornings sleeping while the boy went off alone to class. After all, though it was a large hall, it was clear that under no circumstances would both tamers and bears fit inside.
"She probably got lucky and ended up with the other Sobolev,"
he thought, not seeing the girl he had met the day before.
It was then he realized just how different the atmosphere was without the young black bear tamer. The other Black Bear tamers didn't talk. They were nervous, downcast, as if silently carrying a burden the whole world had thrown on their shoulders.
For the first time, Nikolai realized that Marina was an exception — proud, unaffected by the weight of the stigma. The others, however, seemed to represent the rule: defeated before even beginning.
In the North, weakness wasn't just a flaw: it was a sentence. And Black Bears were seen as the embodiment of that weakness. They lacked the innate magic of the Whites, the brute strength of the Browns. At most, they had slightly above-average strength — nothing the people considered truly useful.
A different sound interrupted his thoughts: the rhythmic dragging of wood against stone.
"Hello again, children."
Silence fell upon the room. Every word was charged with a strange solemnity.
Marya had entered. Her staff scraped against the floor with each step, as if marking the tempo of the silence. The Blue Bear tamers sensed her before they even heard her — the air itself changed with her presence. But her first words weren't for them. They were for the Black Bear tamers, as if the mark of weakness demanded more attention than prestige.
Nikolai watched, intrigued. Small gestures, a posture, a look… and already it was clear how the old woman shaped her students. Not with kindness, but with the power of fear and discipline.
"Very well."
she said, her voice echoing like a spell.
"I believe I'll move ahead with a few lessons today, since recent events leave no room for delay. But first… I need to gauge your knowledge."
Her sharp gaze swept across the room, locking onto each student bonded to a black bear — as if peering straight through them.
It was clear the test she sought wasn't for the Blues, but for the newly arrived.
"Tell me… how many, what do they call them again? Ah yes… Mountain Benefactors, exist?"
The answer came in unison, a perfect symphony of voices that echoed across the room:
"Three!"
The near-ritual harmony seemed to satisfy everyone… except one. Nikolai's brow furrowed, as if something didn't add up.
And Marya, shrewd as ever, noticed. Her eyes narrowed, sharp as blades of ice, locked on him.
"Very well. I thought it would take longer for questions to arise, but… I see someone among you disagrees."
"Isn't that right, young Nikolai?"
A chill ran down his spine. First, because the old woman knew his name. Second, because she had detected his doubt, even though he hadn't uttered a word.
The books taught it clearly: there were three Mountain Benefactors. That was the accepted truth, unquestionable. But in the same book, hidden between the lines, Nikolai had found contradictions — tiny fractures that cast doubt. Even so, such details would never have been taken seriously by him — at least, not if he hadn't begun feeling the truth in his own skin. And under the pressure of her gaze, the words escaped his mouth almost instinctively:
"Four."
The silence that followed was crushing. And then — the explosion.
Laughter erupted from the Blue Bear tamers. Mocking, scornful laughter.
"Where'd this commoner dig up something like that? Hahaha!"
"When I graduate, I'll hire him as the court jester!"
The jokes piled up, stones thrown at a motionless target. The Black Bear tamers, however, stayed quiet. They didn't laugh, but they didn't defend him either. They just watched, wary — as if even they doubted Nikolai's boldness.
Everyone knew: most who bonded with Blue Bears were nobles — raised with access to the Book of Truth and to knowledge nearly infinite, reserved for those who could afford it.
It was too tempting an advantage for any blue to ignore. In other words: if you were a smart, well-prepared noble, chances were high a Blue Bear would be drawn to you.
So if even they — the most learned and privileged — said there were three, how could a commoner, bonded to a stray, unknown bear, dare say otherwise?
Marya didn't interrupt them. She let the laughter echo until it died out on its own. Her staff struck the stone floor once — sharp, dry — and silence returned like a blade falling across throats.
"How did you reach that conclusion, Nikolai? Try to be as clear as possible."
Her voice was calm, but heavy.
Shock rippled through the room. Everyone knew how Marya typically reacted to wrong or foolish answers — cruel punishments, scars that lasted.
But now… there was something different.
As if, behind that question, there was a trace of… respect — and curiosity.