Alzair Andontiev is a lecturer in Artifactology at the Academy of Magic, he also has a master's degree in history. An unusual choice of profession for the offspring of a purebred family renowned for their outstanding combat mages. According to rumors, dispersed mainly by members of the family, the Andot'evs are such an ancient family that its founders caught the opening of portals, and in a completely absurd version of this gossip, they even put their hand to it. Such a set creates an appropriate reputation - born warriors, worthy of respect and admiration, but at the same time ossified snobs, tied with a heap of outdated traditions and moral norms. In places they are ambiguous, but certainly majestic. Could someone unmistakably identify Alzair as the heir to the Andot'ev family from similar descriptions? An unconditional clue, of course, would be his human appearance (if he does not hide his tail or tentacles in his pants), because for the present times, one hundred percent people are akin to a miracle. However, there is a nuance here that can be confusing - a flickering scar on the floor of the face. Part of the consequences of mixing races? Only the staff and students of the Academy of Magic knew that this was the result of the explosion of an unsuccessful potion of stabilizing the emotional background. It was created to increase concentration when performing especially difficult spells, and on Alzair's face, as a scar, it became an indicator of his emotions, changing colors to match his mood. He himself did not know what ingredient Alzair had got into the cauldron due to clumsiness, and refused to remove the scar, feeling unbearable embarrassment at the thought that he would deliver so much trouble to the antidote developers. “And what, - he grinned, - teaches to control emotions. A useful thing.” Thus, at first glance, he could not be confidently called a human. But even if you notice him half-turned on the street, not seeing a bizarre imprint on his face, then the next clear sign of a representative of the family of hereditary battle magicians should be well-developed muscles, an impressive shoulder span and a confident posture. However, all this is not about him. Alzair, although he was tall, was at the same time thin and rather awkward, as if an early-stretched teenager. And even the wizard's familiar was not the personification of strength, but was a magical analogue of an ordinary poodle moth, receiving the nickname Fluff for its softness. Since childhood, Alzair was a weak and sickly child who was often bedridden and forced to entertain himself mainly by reading books. Because of this, the father for a long time could not begin to train him as he wanted - the mother felt sorry for the child and did not allow her husband. The father was angry, but he could not do anything. Alzair was growing up, and his fascination with books grew stronger. The Andot'evs' library was indeed an invaluable storehouse of unique ancient works, rarest books, monographs of ancestors and historical annals. Soon, the guy himself could be called this very storehouse of exceptional knowledge. It would seem that the path of science for Alzair was the obvious choice. But as a gift for his 16th birthday, he received from his father a ticket to the School of Combat Magicians. Mother only shook her head sympathetically - she could not help. A year and a half of grueling and brutal training and the invariable last place in physical fitness. It seemed that the muscles deliberately refused to grow over his fragile figure. Only theoretical subjects were given to the guy relatively easily, but this was not enough to win the battles. And then an urgent call home in the middle of the school year. Bed. She wears a pale father, struck by an unknown and rapidly spreading curse. Farewell to death. Much remorse and regret over the past years. A blessing to do science and permission to quit the School of Martial Magic. Presenting a protective amulet, which has been passed on in the family for ten centuries. Instructions to protect and never remove. Asking to take care of the mother, her crying in the background. And death. Too fast. It all happened terribly fast. He is already being taken away from his parents' bedroom. And this amulet in his hands with the image of a tree - a classic symbol of the family, which so often flashed before his eyes on his father's neck ... Why the hell did he not protect him? Isn't this its function? I wanted to throw him against the nearest wall. Then. Now he calmly dangled around the neck of Alzair, who nevertheless became the one who tried to put at least a grain of his knowledge into the heads of young magicians; became what he wanted to be. And when the guardians of the barrier of the Dead World suddenly disappeared on the first day of the month of Sharp Moon, in the entire Universe there probably was no more competent magician who could go on reconnaissance. The big problem was that any research there is difficult and dangerous, technology refuses to work there, and any attempts to use magic lead to accidents. To hit the road, it was necessary to have an impressive store of knowledge about the structure and history of magic, as well as pull up a huge layer of knowledge about more traditional methods of defense and attack. By the decision of the Citadel, all this seemed a feasible task for the heir of a centuries-old family of hereditary battle mages, as well as an artifactologist and historian of the Academy of Magic. To bypass some of the magical limitations of the Dead World, I had to use the energy of gems and potions. For each magician there is a pair of stones that are subject to them, sometimes several - the more, the better. This is determined during training at the Academy of Magic, but has long been purely formal and not used in practice. For Alzair, these are turquoise, sapphire and onyx. They are inlaid with his magic bracelet in a unique pattern, as well as night vision goggles and a dagger. Potions are also not a direct burst of magic and have at least some chance of success on par with stones. Therefore, a potion gun was added to the equipment, which fires potion bullets, enchanted in advance. And also in the equipment there were several potion grenades. From the clothes, it was decided to wear a dragon skin suit - simply and reliably. Although it was inappropriate to talk about any reliability in the Dead World, all this had a chance of success, but not 100%. In such a simple set and with a pair of Cannon, Alzair set off on an expedition to the tombs. Moving along the signal map of one of the psionic guards, the mage quite easily got to the place where the signal was cut off. Surprisingly, they did not come across anything more terrible than huge insects of different varieties. A couple of small dips in the road, a few particularly dusty, almost airless places a couple of meters long - that's all. At the point where the signal is cut off was the entrance to the room. In structure, it looked like a hall, for example, for gatherings - a rectangular stone box, completely inscribed with runes with images of magical objects, which was connected to some other rooms, the doors to which were locked. All attention was drawn to the relatively small altar, which was the main source of illumination. It was a faceted stone lid with inscriptions similar to the wall and a round hole in the center, and this whole slab lay on a huge glowing blue crystal. In fact, this was the only subject to study in the room, so Alzair and Fluffy immediately moved cautiously towards it. And only touching the plate with his hand, the amulet on the magician's neck pulled him with force to the center of the lid, wanting to stand in its rightful place in the middle, and at the same time the central doors began to slowly open ...