"04 - Sea of Swords - R A Salvatore 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Paths Of Darkness)

УHow many years will it take?Ф the elf asked, and finished with a small laugh,
while fiddling with an onyx ring. УCenturies? It does not matter!Ф
Le'lorinel pulled off the ring and held it up before glittering eyes. It had
taken two years of hard work to earn this item from Mahskevic. It was a magical
ring, designed to hold enchantments. This one held four, the four spells
Le'lorinel believed it would take to kill Drizzt Do'Urden.
Of course, Le'lorinel knew that to use these spells in the manner planned would
likely result in the deaths of both comнbatants.
It did not matter.
As long as Drizzt Do'Urden died, Le'lorinel could enter the netherworld
contented.



Part 1
HINTS OF DARKNESS


t is good to be home. It is good to hear the wind of Icewind Dale, to feel its
invigorating bite, like some reminder that I am alive.
That seems such a self-evident thingЧthat I, that we, are aliveЧand yet, too
often, I fear, we easily forget the imporнtance of that simple fact. It is so
easy to forget that you are truly alive, or at least, to appreciate that you are
truly alive, that every sunrise is yours to view and every sunset is yours to
enjoy.
And all those hours in between, and all those hours after dusk, are yours to
make of what you will.
It is easy to miss the possibility that every person who crosses your path can
become an event and a memory, good or bad, to fill in the hours with experience
instead of tedium, to break the monotony of the passing moments. Those wasted
moments, those hours of sameness, of routine, are the enemy, I say, are little
stretches of death within the moments of life.
Yes, it is good to be home, in the wild land of Icewind Dale, where monsters
roam aplenty and rogues threaten the roads at every turn. I am more alive and
more content than in many years. For too long, I struggled with the legacy of my
dark past. For too long, I struggled with the reality of my longevity, that I
would likely die long after Bruenor, Wulfgar, and Regis.
And Catti-brie.
What a fool I am to rue the end of her days without enjoying the days that she,
that we, now have! What a fool I am to let the present slip into the past, while
lamenting a potentialЧand only potentialЧfuture!
We are all dying, every moment that passes of every day. That is the inescapable
truth of this existence. It is a truth that can paralyze us with fear, or one
that can energize us with impatience, with the desire to explore and experience,
with the hopeЧnay, the iron will!Чto find a memory in every action. To be alive,
under sunshine or under starlight, in weather fair or stormy. To dance every
step, be they through gardens of bright flowers or through deep snows.
The young know this truth so many of the old, or even middle-aged, have
forgotten. Such is the source of the anger, the jealousy, that so many exhibit
toward the young. So many times have I heard the common lament, УIf only I could