Anyway, I liked it. Especially since after the common room that I shared my whole life with ten students, a separate room seemed to me an incredible luxury.
I made fresh bed linen, wiped the window with a damp cloth, and almost happily settled down on the window sill.
And I remembered the events in the pub! And the ring!
She slipped her hand into the pocket of Danina's black dress, which she had never changed, and shouted. The grey spiral on the lanyard was there, among the seed husks, a scrap of parchment and roots of marsh mallow, protecting from the evil eye. It rested peacefully and even seemed to get brighter! That's disgusting...!
So, let's think.
I set up with my feet on the window sill, putting a cape underneath me for heat. And I slipped on the ring.
So what happened?
I was in a tavern. I ran out of there whimpering like a puppy. I had someone else's ring in my hands. Perhaps valuable. I got into trouble.
But the rest... my visions? Hallucinations? Nonsense? Maybe... And even more likely.
In the end, the version that I dozed off was good, too, and the ring... I really ripped it off that man! Who probably just walked up to a girl who was asleep at the next table to see if everything was okay!
Yes, poor man, I wanted to help, I took care of him, and then I jumped up with wild eyes, rip off his shoelace, push him and throw myself at the door with a howl!
That's terrible!
So what do I do now? This ring... what if it's valuable? It doesn't look like an ordinary dull spiral, not even silver, more like iron. It's shabby, some kind, and I'd say it's not pretty. It's rough, no grace.
I brought it closer to my eyes. If you take a good look inside some symbols or letters, but so erased that you can't make it out. Or maybe it was just some kind of drawing that's been erased from time to time. The fact that the iron is old, I had no doubt about it.
So it's obviously not a valuable ring, but maybe it's valuable to its owner as a memory? There's a reason he wore it on his chest...
I have willpowerfully repulsed the memory of the eyes from which the darkness flows... brr... will dream the same thing, really. Even now, fear rolls in a wave, shaking.
I wonder who was wearing that ring? Probably a lover. I covered my eyes dreamily, imagining an incredible love story and... sighed. The mentors always said I was too impressionable and romantic. What's that, I mean...
By the way, the size of the ring is small, it would fit on my middle finger. I carefully untied the leather shoelace, and I was surprised. The dull ring, freed from the loop, glowed brighter, gold-plated. The grey metal was now pouring out clearly in red. Well, of course, I'm sitting by the window, and the metal is reflected in the reflections of the red northern sun.
I raised my palm, turned from the window to make it more visible. The ring was sparkling. And beautiful... and why did it seem ugly to me at first?
I looked at it and... I put it on my middle finger.
And my size... oh! The little silver snake on my finger shone even brighter, the red shine became almost unbearable, the dull metal quickly became gold, then red, then scarlet... all over the ring clearly showed letters and symbols that I did not understand! And the worst thing ... small, now a golden spiral moved, one of the tips increased, became a drop and it clearly showed ... eyes, and a small mouth with a split tongue! And this already living snake, tightly wrapped around my finger, settling like this, shook a triangular head, looked at me, and sharp fangs were absorbed into my skin. For another moment I looked at the drop of blood flowing from my finger, and then I fell into oblivion.
* * *
I was lying in the black sand of hell, stuck my nose in it.
Did you die? I gently lifted up on my elbows, the broken braid fell heavily into the sand. I turned my head, turned my eyes to my palms. The right one was slightly stripped off as if I had fallen again from somewhere. And in the body there is a feeling of impact, chest and ribs whining, as if there was a bruise. I flipped over and plunged on my ass.
Oh, Blessed Mother! What's that??
I was sitting on a piece of black, like a piece of coal sand. Maybe it was really coal. No, my palms aren't dirty, and it feels like fine sand flowing through my fingers. And color so overpowering black, without a single embedding of another color, that my dark dress on this background seemed gray and even whitish. My "islet" slightly towered over the rest of the desert, and its edges were poured down by sandy waterfalls, but not settling on the ground, as if wrapped in black funnels, sucking into the sand. The greyish, dirty mist was poured over the desert by torn shreds, moving from place to place like a ghost. And the whole desert, under this fog, moved, rolled like cast muscles under the skin of an unseen monster.
A little further up, huge silhouettes were rising, which at first seemed to me to be trees, but on closer inspection turned out to be dark stone sculptures, similar to the centuries-old oaks turned upside down and stuck by the crown in the sand. And at the base of these stone "crowns" was moving thick, dense darkness, sometimes crawling in different directions with tentacles of darkness.
The "roots" of stone giants rested on the white and gray mud, which also lived and moved like gusts of wind, though I did not feel any movement of air.
There wasn't a single colored paint, only as far as my eyes could see: black sand swirling in whirlpools, darkness sprawling with tentacles, and gray fog torn at the bottom and thick, dense at the top.
The line of horizon was absent, the boundary connecting the top and bottom was blurred and shaky, it could not be caught by sight and seen.
And quietly... dead. No rustling of leaves, no bird voices, no wind noise. And even the rattle of a dying animal seemed deaf as if through a straw mat...
The rattle of a dying animal???
I jumped up and I turned around scared. And I almost fell again from seeing the painting.
Behind my back, in the fathoms of ten, a monster was dying. A long, snake-like body, studded with thorns the size of a cow's horn, ended in an elongated flat head. Four rhombus-shaped eyes were supported by a yellow, chicken film. A narrow tongue fell out of the mouth like a sting, oozing slime. And the blood, black, thick, pushed out on the sand and immediately absorbed, leaving no trace.
I was shaken. Above the dying monster stood his killer and compared to him, a huge spiky snake seemed to me more harmless than a domestic cat.
For it was the true birth of darkness, the demon of shadows, the hell of a nightmare something. I looked at his back and side as he pulled a blade of blue steel out of the snake and wiped it slowly against his skin. The demon was huge, with bronze and black skin, under which steel muscles moved and tendons twisted like ropes. The black long hair went into short hair, with a narrow strip covering the ridge and going under the belt of leather pants. Shiny, black, the crow's wings hung over his figure with huge domes, and each wing ended in a barbed thorn.
In no hurry, the demon turned around and looked at me. On its head, the monster had wide, twisted horns, with dark red tips, and that is quite wildly almost human face, only with bronze skin and yellow, animal eyes, which are now looking at me.
And he took a step towards me.
I wanted to scream, but my throat felt as if this strange black sand had been poured down, and I couldn't pronounce a sound. The demon bowed his horned head and slowly, as if walking, moved towards me. Around his boot black funnel sunken darkness, a living shadow fondle him faithful dog, wrapped up to his knees, then to his stomach, shreds covered his body. The darkness crawled over him, hugging him, ripped his cloak, stealing behind his shoulders. Eve of this darkness changed his appearance, moved, poured like mercury into another form. And he himself did not move, sliding as if without touching the black sand, leaving no trace, as fast and smoothly as a man can not move. It seems that he just stood by the snake, and already - black darkness next to me, literally in two steps, and it seems that all the distance he had overcome with one smooth movement.
/> It was a scarecrow. It's very.
Next to my "island", the darkness slipped into shreds, soaked in the sand, dispelled. There was a man standing in front of me. In the same black pants and boots, with a bare torso and a blue blade in his right hand. The wings and horns were gone, dark hair to the shoulders, bronze skin and eyes with a yellow rim around a rectangular, like the beast's pupil.
I recognized him. The one from the tavern...
He looked at me with his head slightly bowed as if he had seen a curious animal. I snapped back, instinctively putting my hand forward.
- Don't come near me! - from the dried up throat there was not a fierce scream as desired, but a whisper.
- Or what? - He mockingly asked.
I was alarmed. Really what? What can I do, then? Against a warrior with a sword, against a demon? I can't even scream! And even if it did, I doubt anyone would hurry to help me. I was tired of waving my hand. And the man suddenly tensed up, got up like a beast before he jumped, and there was nothing left of his lazy calm. He looked at my hand with a dull snake ring.
I missed his movement again, but the next moment he was already hovering over me, his hands clenched my shoulders, and I cried out in pain and fear.
- Aargard! It was you! You initiated him!
- Don't, please! - I squeezed into a lump, waiting for a blow, habitually pulled my head into my shoulders and squeezed. But nothing happened. I gently looked up.
The man was looking at me thoughtfully. His eyes were rapidly changing color, burned out, and the yellow bezel sprawled across the iris, making it light brown and driving away the darkness. He even took his hands off me. For some reason, I became unbearably ashamed of my cowardly, childish reaction, I flashed out and proudly straightened, raising my head high.
- I don't know what you're talking about," I said with the utmost dignity. My voice was husky, and I was afraid that I was coughing. Silly me, there are more problems now than ever...
- I accidentally ripped that ring off you. I was trying to push you away. I... I was scared. I had reason to be scared, didn't I? - I couldn't help myself, and of course, I'll give it back to you immediately!
And as proof, I raised my hand to take off the ring.
There was no snake on my finger. I trampled my palm, then the other one... nothing. Holy elders, did you really lose it? I dropped it in these black sands and the snake fell into a creepy funnel? Where is it?
A man grabbed my left arm, yanked it, pulled it, pulled it, sleeve. The hard tissue cracked from a sharp movement, forming a rip to the elbow. And there, near the bend on the pale skin there was a black mark: a snake biting its tail. I was completely childish and looked up at him in astonishment.
- What's that?
He looked thoughtfully at my hand. Long tanned fingers scattered across the mark, touching it a little. I pulled my hand away, hastily correcting the torn sleeve.
The man raised his head and had a thoughtful and unbelieving expression on his face. It seems he wasn't going to answer me, still thinking hard about something. Anger inexplicably erupted in me. In the end, it wasn't my fault that the damn ring came to me, and I didn't ask for it, and it was so hard to answer, was it??
- What the hell is this? Who the hell are you? Where are we? - I'm out of breath, answer me!
A tense expression disappeared from his face, and he raised his eyebrow mockingly.
- Yes, now I see that Argard has definitely been initiated... - the man must have said to himself because I didn't understand a word. And he stepped back one step, looking at my white, grey hair, skinny face, old dress hanging on me with a dust bag...
- Who would have thought... man... what a mockery of fate...
I didn't get it again, but it hurt, so I flashed to the roots of my hair.
- Who are you? - I harshly said, in this situation, it's much more interesting who you are... but my name is Arch'arrion... at least you can call me that.
I thought I didn't want to call him at all, as well as see and hear him. But... thank you for answering. I didn't want to know who he was... scared. So I decided to get right to the point.
- Where are we? Am I dead?
He hummed.
- Do you feel dead?
I mechanically rubbed my ribs, there was definitely a bruise. No, I felt painfully alive!
- Then what is this place? How did I end up here?
- It's the Devil. A junction between worlds, a shady line...
- Black Earth! - I exhaled with a sudden epiphany. Blessed Mother, I didn't realize it was the Damned Black Earth! Is it true that the Call has defeated me and I came?
- You've been transported by Argard. - he nodded at my elbow. Yes, the fact that Argard is a man calling a dull snake ring, I already understood - he is the birth of Chaos and strive for him. Especially after the initiation. But there wasn't enough energy. You are human and your blood has given him too little power. Or Argard just brought you to me...
- You make it sound like a ring... Argard, alive!
- Of course it's alive," said the Arch'arrion, surprised at my foolishness. "Argard is an eternal spirit. In fact... he is much more alive than we are!
- Oh... what can he think, think?
- Not quite. The artefact has no consciousness in the sense we're used to. But it has an essence that is capable of much...
- And how do I take it off? Or should I say... take it off... this? - I put out my elbow.
- You didn't. You can't steal, take it away, take it by accident. It's not possible. He's got power over events, organizes chaos and rings Time. I can't take him back now. - The man turned his back, Arguard chose. You initiated him. That's all for now.
It sounded like a sentence. It sounded like a sentence to me. I got dizzy. Black Earth, the monster snake, the demon who became a man and had an almost small talk with me, Argard... swam before my eyes. I lost my temper. My leg slipped, fell into a funnel, hit a void. I screamed, I fell ridiculously to my side and fell on the black sand. It hurt so much...
Dark hands unceremoniously lifted my skirt and stole my boots. Then the other one. I didn't even get a chance to shamefully scream. And it hurt so much that I wasn't ashamed. The upside-down ankle gave a sharp pain, and the dried up calf scars opened up again, generously poured blood on my feet.
The man knelt down and looked at all that beauty with such a face that I wanted to burn with shame. I twitched again when he put his palms on my bare feet. I raised my head.
- You should go back," he said calmly. "The devil's taking his strength, and you're already too weak," he rinsed his hands sharply with the blade and pressed his bloody palms against my ankles. Strongly, wrapped around all his fingers as if he wanted to break them.
- Blood to blood... Power to Power. Voluntarily. Aarem...
I cried out in terror. But there was no pain, on the contrary, there was warmth on the legs, from the left foot to the heart, turned to the right side, gently burned and went down the other foot.
And right before my eyes, in moments, the edges of the scars stretched towards each other, growing a new pale skin, growing together and not even leaving scars! There was an intoxicating warmth in my chest, my ribs stopped whining, and the abrasions on my hands and face tightened. And I felt as if I drank a volley of tart country wine, it was delightfully easy and joyful. Pure energy was bubbling through his body, forcing him to sing from an untested early happiness!
- Blessed Mother!!! - I exhaled, how wonderful!!!
And I laughed. The Arch'arrion raised his eyes on me, turning dark as an abyss.
- Look out... Arghard," he said, and pushed me into my chest, pushing me out of the Blacklands.
Chapter 5
I woke up screaming. I think I blacked out for a short time, even fell off the window sill before I could. I sat on it, hanging one leg and resting my forehead against the window frame. I jumped on the floor, pulled up my boots lying next to me, and gently looked out into the corridor. There were frightening shadows on th
e walls, flashing candles, and novices making a fuss.
A woman's voice wailed on one note.
I squeezed a barrel into the corridor, grabbed the sleeve running past Polada.
- What happened?
- Zlatotsveta, the drowned woman, came for Rogneda," said Polada in a terrible whisper, whispering over and over again in the autumn sun of prayer, "I was sent for Aristarchus to cast out the spirit of the irreconcilable and to protect us all, sinners! Oh, what's being done, Vetriana, what's being done! The drowned men are walking in broad daylight! Visit the living!
- Wait, don't shout, - I wince, - someone must have played a trick on Rogneda. What a drowned woman, quite girls have gone mad!
- So true! Golden Blossom herself appeared as if she had been pulled out of the pond that day! wearing the same dress and a wreath in her hair! She approached Rogneda, staring at her empty eye sockets, and pulled her hands to her as if she wanted to hug her. At first she fell without feeling, of course, but as she came to her senses, she screamed.
- And now where is Rogneda?
- She's lying there, near the pupil! Well, that's what's happening, Vetriana, rotten or drowned! - And Polada fell off her feet, almost indecently bullying her skirt for running.
I thoughtfully went to the pupil.
Rogneda is a practical girl and not stupid, the best pupil and favorite of mentors. In no adventures and pranks did not take part, demonstratively snorting at our leprosy and desperately expected to get after graduation with good recommendations in Starover.
Therefore, it is all the more surprising that she was not ashamed to raise such a scream and howl, and this is our trustees oh how not to like. And also to tell, that the drowned Golden blossomer appeared to her, not much, not a little! Is it true that Rogneda was so frightened by someone's prank that she did not think about her reputation? Was she not afraid of the anger of her mentors?
Yes, and who could have made such a joke of her?
The Wind of the North Page 6