Spirit's hooves thudded across the icy ground as he and Mikhail rode towards the morning sun just rising over the valley. The two friends had left Altai Village before dawn the very next morning, determined to begin their quest anew. Yerlan and many others had seen them off at the village gates. Aruzhan had waved sadly from the nearby church tower.
The snow-covered mountains rose up steeply on either side of the narrow pass that wound to the east, and a chill wind reminded rider and stallion that Winter was still alive and well in the far north. Mikhail swallowed a piece of the rich bread that Aruzhan had hidden in Spirit's saddle bag. It filled his stomach with warmth, yet the knight couldn't help but feel...empty.
On and on they rode, scanning each mountain peak, skirting around frozen lakes, carefully picking their way through overgrown forests...but even for an excellent hunter like Mikhail, the trail had long since grown cold. There was no sign of the dragon.
So it happened one cloudy night, as Mikhail and Spirit huddled next to their small campfire and tried to ignore the chill breeze whistling through the boreal forest, that the knight began to be discouraged.
Of course, everyone feels discouragement now and again. Just as Summer wanes and Winter comes, some days are simply warmer, brighter, and easier than others. How knights and princesses choose to face the colder, darker, harder days shows just how noble and gentle their hearts truly are.
And Mikhail Andreyevich was very noble indeed. He had faced dark days before, in black swamps and blinding sandstorms, in the deepest of caves, through thunder and lighting and the fiercest of winds—why, he had faced it all with the patient kindness and fearless determination that marks all good men!
But the knight had never failed at a quest before...
Mikhail leaned back against Spirit's side and found some comfort in the sleeping stallion's steady breathing. He gazed into the night sky above, searching for the Polar Star that reminded him to be faithful and true in all that he did. Instead, thick clouds stretched overhead like a heavy shroud.
Never had he let an evil dragon escape! Mikhail's thoughts grew darker to match the clouds above. For nearly a month he had been trapped in Altai Village, distracted from his quest. And distracted from his pain. The days spent helping the villagers, the peaceful quiet of the beautiful mountain valley, and of course, Aruzhan's encouraging friendship, had all helped him quite forget about the despair and disappointment that often follow a determined doer of good. Why, Mikhail hadn't even eaten an ashroom in weeks!
The ashrooms! Mikhail sat upright, no longer listening to Spirit's steady breathing. The little plant was just what the knight needed to clear away his feelings, dull his fears, and focus his mind. His hands shook as he produced the little wooden box and quickly swallowed one of the red-speckled, smoky mushrooms.
Almost immediately, Mikhail felt his frustration and doubt melt away. Not that the knight felt happy. In fact, he didn't feel much of anything. He simply lay down numbly next to the campfire and fell into a deep, deep sleep.
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