A lone figure walked out of the mist toward the lake. A fair-haired girl in a semi-transparent white garment, through which her body could be seen. She leaned over the water, scooped it up with her palms, and began to drink.
The Cursed rose and moved in her direction. She heard him, turned her head, and bolted. He chased after her. But it was useless. She ran quickly, then rose into the air and flew between the forest trees.
The Cursed jumped onto his horse and raced along the forest road, keeping the flying girl within his field of vision. Several times, he lost sight of her when she disappeared among the dense trees, but then she appeared again, flying in a certain direction known only to her.
After some time, the Cursed saw an old two-story building ahead. Its windows were dark. The girl flew through one of the windows and disappeared.
This seemed strange to the Cursed. The house looked abandoned. It was unlikely that anyone lived there. Yet she had flown here. Was she hiding here? If so, from whom?
He approached the building, and the sword appeared in his hand. He passed through the doorway and moved along the dark corridor. In the rooms on both sides, broken furniture lay everywhere. Several times, swarms of bats burst from the ceiling and flew out through the windows into the night forest. He did not find the girl in the transparent clothing. But he found something else.
In one dim room stood a table, upon which lay a board. A map of this region was drawn on the board. It showed the building and the forest. At the very center of the board was a hole. Around its edges, magical symbols were inscribed. It was a magical board.
The Cursed looked around. Off to the side, among the broken furniture, lay an ancient iron key. The Cursed picked it up and inserted it into the hole. It fit perfectly. He turned it several times around its axis. The key rotated, then came to a stop.
The windows of the building flared with bright light. The Cursed looked through them and saw a manor standing in the middle of the forest. It had appeared.
As he rode toward the manor, a rain of fiery arrows suddenly began. They were falling from above, burning him. Gritting his teeth from pain and loss of energy, the Cursed looked around and saw that the fiery rain was falling over the manor within a radius of one mile.
From the darkness around him, evil faces emerged. They began, in hoarse voices, to insist on a single phrase in his ears:
"You shall not pass! You shall not pass!"
Then they opened wide mouths in which black darkness swirled, draining energy from him.
He drew his sword and was killing them one by one.
In the manor, at one of the second-floor windows, stood a figure with white hair, dressed in a black leather outfit: a coat, trousers, and high boots.
There should have been no one there except the sorceress. But if someone was there, it meant midnight had already come—and another Messenger of the Curse had arrived for him.
The stranger watched him for a while, then his eyes burst into bright lights. He turned and vanished into the darkness of the rooms.
The black horse beneath him fell before they were even halfway to the manor. Blood flowed from its nostrils and eyes. The Cursed covered the rest of the distance on foot. At vampiric speed, he reached the building and went inside, taking shelter from the rain that drained his strength.
There was no one on the first floor. The rooms greeted the warrior with emptiness and gloom.
On the second floor, at the end of the corridor, stood the figure with white hair and black leather clothing.
The Cursed moved toward him. Along the corridor, near the walls, creatures with evil faces appeared, floating in the air—just like those that had attacked him under the fiery rain. They held swords in their hands and hovered about two feet above the floor. With a piercing howl, they raised their blades and attacked the warrior.