Siberian Light Magi, Chronicles of Bratsk. Story 2

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STORY TWO

"CHUPACABRA DIED ON THE OCA"

P r e f e r e w o r d

Here is what I write in my diary again:


There is a river called Oka in the Irkutsk region. There are many villages and towns near it. There are many wonders in these parts, but there are also some that locals can't tell everyone about.

In the distant past, Siberia was a place of exile, and now it is a "gold mine for those coming from big cities," as the older generations gossip. The gold turns out to be counterfeit - sometimes you can't even buy bread for it. Those who are disappointed in life and career live here, so they go to the wilderness - beyond the Urals, leaving everything for money.They especially strive to get to the Irkutsk region, where winters are truly terrible frosts. Summers are rainy or dry. The reason for this is not the fact that they built a lot of dams, but something completely different.

The Oka River... It is about one thousand five hundred kilometers long. This river can tell us a lot. Which I will do in this diary.

Irkutsk Region... Here, unbelief, ignorance, violence and cruelty rule. It is enough to open the history of this place - take at least Bratsk. There, love is replaced by debauchery, even worse - at the so-called "parties" entertainment is valued first and foremost bad type, yes friends, and only then the future and the beloved girl. If she begs her beloved to go out with her too - and not just with friends - the guy immediately goes to his friends, dumps her. When I heard about this in January 2005, my blood ran cold. Here it is, a terrible example of heartlessness - falling in love here is very dangerous.If you like someone, you better bite the bullet, don't go to punks or flats. Anywhere where dubious characters gather. The punks here aren't punks at all: they're people posing as them. These are mostly Dark Ones. Here's an insert about Bratsk and its suburbs. Aren't you scared yet? Then read on.

This time I want to tell you about a small village. But first, I need to delve into its past. SO, NOW SIT DOWN AND STUDY MY NOTES.

PROLOGUE

YEAR 1978 one thousand nine hundred and seventy eight

SUMMER

July. The mother of two children sat on the porch, washing clothes. If she managed to tear herself away from work and raise her head, a wonderful landscape spread out before her eyes. The huge Oka River quietly babbled. Somewhere near Tulun, the Iya River flows. Life there is almost as wonderful. It is very nice to live outside the city, or even far away from cities where there is no stench and odor, because there BRAZ (Bratsk Aluminum Plant) constantly spews smoke from its scandalously famous chimneys.

Two children were frolicking next to the woman - a boy and a girl. They were almost the same age: the girl was ten years old, and the boy was not even seven. They laughed and giggled, running near a large two-story hut. If you look at these little ones from the outside, it seems: there is no one in the world happier than anyone except her brother and sister. The housewife hung the washed laundry on the line and wiped the sweat from her forehead. It's hot... She still has to go to the garden to weed the beds: there are a lot of weeds there. I wonder where her husband is walking now? In the morning, he's always somewhere He drags himself along: sometimes with fishing rods, sometimes with a backpack, a bucket, knives, he hangs a gun on his shoulder. He doesn't help his wife with the housework! He doesn't show up at home until nightfall. He always comes back from hunting angry - there has never been a case where he came back happy. Now fishing is a different matter! He says - there are some very strange game in the woods.

After such conversations in the village "X" (I'll call it that) strange things began to happen - people disappeared for no reason. No matter how much they looked for them - not a trace was found. He left and disappeared. They combed the entire forest - no trace! Only clothes were found on trees or bushes. This happened during hunting season opened. Not only the woman's husband faced paradoxes, but all of them. Also, in the Oka River near the village there was an unnaturally huge fish. Everything was very similar to the following: nuclear tests were once carried out in these places, and that is where such discrepancies with reality arose. No one had heard of radiation in these parts: everyone believed - unpolluted places in such a form should exist. The ecology is wonderful: clean products, plants, air, offspring are healthy in every sense, do not degrade. Unlike Bratsk, Ust-Kut and Taishet. They live in the village "X" for a long time, never get sick. For example - in winter, cities and neighboring villages are mowed down by an epidemic of colds,flu, and the villagers don't give a damn! They live their lives: you can sneeze on them with viruses, or not!

Another phenomenon was observed in the village among the people: if Russian people really like to drink on holidays, then the X-types can't stand vodka, they don't smoke. Not only men of different ages,but also women. There is nothing to say about children at all - angels...

In the winter in December - January, huge wolves roamed the yards and forests, no one knew where they came from. They disappeared at the beginning of February. Where the wolf packs were heading - no one was able to follow. Because everyone was afraid: what if they were killed? When these animals howled - it seemed that someone among them was trying to say words, but he can't: his jaw and muzzle don't allow it. Nights turned into mass madness. Residents locked themselves in their houses and kept silent. Not going outside even to relieve themselves. It could well have been like that - animals were walking around the village, tracking down their prey. Once, on New Year's Eve, the husband of a woman neighbor (who was mentioned above) went into the forest to chop wood -and disappeared without a trace. And then those animals showed up. The state farm and local authorities were running off their feet, but all in vain. They combed the entire area - NO ONE.

The neighbor was very young - twenty-two years old, three months pregnant. The poor thing grieved greatly: she had found a good guy, she had just gotten married. And then her happiness disappeared!The husband did not cheat, did not offend. But he had one serious flaw: very dubious friends. After partying with them, he would show up home well after midnight. Fortunately, such antics continued once a month. But it was quite nerve-racking.

Winter passed, spring, summer came, time to give birth. One bad thing: a boy or a girl will grow up without a father. This brings harm. Harm - in the sense of fatherlessness. Nobody needs other people's children. But the young woman is stupid - she hoped for his honesty. They walked and played,further - friends are more important. Apparently he had enough fun with them. They poured into his ears about his wife - and then it was gone. And to hell with him!

Now - about the good stuff.

In the village "X", about which there were many bad rumors instead of good, lived a young handsome man - a guy. His face resembled characters from medieval paintings by Leonardo, Raphael and other great artists. A slender, enviable groom with long golden hair, beautifully laid on his shoulders. For understanding I'll add - he looks like Lel from the movie "Snegurochka". Where he came from in the wilderness is a big question. Everyone envied the young man: he's playing the hero, you have to spite him! But: he didn't look at women and girls. At all. Apparently, they got so fed up with him in his city - you don't want to look at him!

But liked another quality of his: he loved to help. If needed help digging a garden - please! If you needed help fetching water - please! Of course, someone fell in love with OLEG ARENSKY - but the hard worker answered all the ladies simply and clearly: "I don't like you as a woman, I don't have feelings of love for anyone. That's why I won't drag you to the hayloft, girl! Do you agree with this? You shouldn't bewitch and achieve mutual feelings in other ways: you will make it worse for yourself. I don’t want to depend on anyone, leave me alone! I will help with the garden, repair the house, chop wood, and nothing more, look for the rest among your own people.” With these words, he turned and left, leaving the women in tears and snot for a long time. VERY many dreamed of getting pregnant from Oleg. But alas. It is impossible.

In his free time, the golden-haired man loved to play the flute, wandered through the forest, swam in the river, and the young guy's favorite decoration was an amulet - a giant curved claw on his neck. The size of a palm and white, with cracks. It seemed like there was nothing strange about Arensky, but one thing confused the suspicious people village "X", where the anomalies were raging - the light was on in Oleg's house all night. What he was doing there, no one knew for sure. Only the ancient old women, who for some reason walked around without headscarves, looked angrily at the stranger. The wolves never came near his hut! They came into everyone's yard at night, but they never climbed into Arensky's! Strange.

Sometimes a city or rural guy, who knows, was called out to the huts in the middle of the night for a showdown: either someone was fighting there, or they were celebrating a fight… There was even a case when the host, drunk, splashed vodka in the guest’s face (he was probably in town) – and the guy’s skin peeled off in layers! Oleg remembered this story. But he couldn’t help but recall how he heard heart-rending screams from there:

- I told you! I can't have alcohol!

- A purely Russian way to solve a problem with a glass of vodka. - The young man grumbled, standing under the ill-fated window. Then he went home to sleep again.

- Mom, Mom! Uncle Oleg is coming to us! - The boy cried out, smiling with joy. The woman, weeding the beds in the heat - when the sun was at its zenith - raised her head and smiled warmly.

- Hello, Oleg. How are you? - She asked the golden-haired handsome man.

- Not bad, Elena Dmitrievna. I heard - your husband disappeared in the winter too…

- Disappeared. Then came back - two months later. As always: they disappear, then have a good time, and come back. Well, you understand...

The blond narrowed his eyes - no, he didn't understand.

- Can he tolerate vodka?

- What are you talking about?! Absolutely not! Even when I was steeping cedar nut tincture, he found it and poured it out. Sometimes he yelled at me, but he treats children well.

- I see.

- You're from out of town, as I noticed.

— Yes and no: I've been living here for a year now. I came to get some treatment and take a break from the bustle of the city. Everything grows wildly and luxuriantly here, the silence is sometimes dead, and people sometimes do illogical things that are embarrassing to talk about later. I wonder what your men are doing in the forest, if someone is always finding torn clothes in the bushes?

Elena Dmitrievna swayed:

- Oleg! How can you say that!? You've become a young woman: green! Your stupid head won't give your legs any rest...

And she thought to herself:

"You should get out of here as quickly as possible, Arensky: I'm afraid for you! There's evil swarming in every corner here, I know that, but you don't notice! Wake up and run away!"

Here the son butted into the conversation:

— Mom! Ira, my little sister, — is sitting on the porch and waiting for you to finish weeding. She is asking for help for our neighbor — she is having contractions! More precisely, labor. Very difficult, Aunt Anya could die! She is screaming loudly!

Elena looked around. She can’t come — her hands are covered in dirt, it will take a long time to wash, and time is running out! Why did Anna give birth in the eighth month?

- What are you saying there, my girl? - Oleg asked warily, approaching the boy's sister. - Who's giving birth there?

- Aunt Anya! - the girl shouted.

- Where is her house?

- Follow me, Oleg Arensky: I'll show you everything.

The stranger rushed after a girl of about ten years old, the mother managed to shout:

- Arensky! Don't go there! This sight is not for the likes of you! Better call a midwife - a fortune teller!

But he seemed not to hear anything.

A woman in labor was writhing on a rumpled bed. Her hair was tangled like tow, her face was distorted with unbearable pain. Sweat glistened on her forehead. It was clear: the baby did not want to come out. And Anna would certainly die if the situation did not change. A fortune teller was nearby: she had arrived first. It seemed that things were really bad.

- Push! Push!!!

- I can't...

There was a knock at the door - Oleg and Ira arrived.

- Who's there?

- I came to help. Open up!

Oleg asked the girl to stay outside and wait, and he opened the door and entered. The fortune teller immediately winced: she felt the Power. And the guy went up to the bed, looked into the girl's eyes, and gently stroked her head. The magician is a woman. YES. LIGHT - ALMOST ALL THE MAGES HERE. There are only a few people. And they are dying out. Despite the Witch belonged to the Light, the room became uncomfortable to be in. As if it was not the Lights that had gathered, but the Dark Magicians. It was necessary to act quickly and skillfully - the child did not come out. At all.



He made the cut very carefully. At first there was no blood. Then his graceful, thin hand penetrated the womb, his fingers very carefully picked up the baby. He handed it to the woman. She began to cut the umbilical cord and wash the child, without even looking at its gender. The fortune teller's eyes widened in amazement. He wasn't scared!

— Look me in the eyes! In the eyes! Do you hear? Well?

Anya gasped and fell silent. Oleg stroked her head with his left hand, calming her down, stopping the bleeding. He blew on her forehead, kissed her cheek as a consolation. Like a lover, he ran his fingers along the girl's neck.

- Who was born to us? - The midwife asked the boy.

- It's a boy. A beautiful boy!

Having said this, Oleg winced. It immediately became clear why the room, where the three Light Ones were, was completely pitch black, why the woman in labor had almost died. No one except him understood what had happened. Arensky looked at the child too sternly. Yeah.

"That's all I need here! What a shame, what a joyful thing: I just became the godfather of the Dark One! What a shame... The entire Dark Headquarters, when I return to Bratsk, will laugh out loud!"

- Another non-human - a magician. - The handsome man whispered, wiping the blood from his claw with a handkerchief and putting it on his neck. - Dark one. Sew up the wound! Why are you staring at me?! I don't need anyone here, especially since the child is not mine! Wherever I go - EVERYWHERE they stare like I'm an exhibit!

Oleg could initiate even newborns, but extremely rarely.

“It’s still good,” he added, handing the screaming child over to his mother. The husband must have been a werewolf, because he walked away. Well, that’s it! That’s why we didn’t get along! He put his hands in warm, clean water, washed them, and dried them. “I’ll get out of here. Good luck.”

He left and went home, visibly upset. A week later, Enerik packed his things, locked the house and climbed to the top of the hill. He looked at the Oka. The great river beckoned to itself, small ripples ran across the water. And the Archmage, forever young, adjusted his hair, looked back once more and walked toward the road.


TWENTY-SIX YEARS LATER

SETTING: SIBERIA, BRATSK.

TIME OF DAY: THREE O'CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON.

DAY: TWENTY-FOURTH OF AUGUST.

YEAR: TWO THOUSAND AND FOUR.

A. M.


- Listen, Enerik, stop laughing - finally! - Valyuk couldn't stand it.

- Ha - ha - ha!!!

There was a terrible, wild laughter in the Light office. Everyone was having fun - from the tame vampire Thror to Andrey. No one seemed to give a reason to laugh. But it is known to be contagious. Five minutes later, everyone slid under the table.

And the boss - a Celt, a Viking and someone else all rolled into one with two thousand years of experience, with the face of a twenty-year-old guy - was bawling, throwing his head back. His light hair, like a waterfall, flowed down to his waist.

Having laughed until he cried, the Light One seemed to calm down.

"Light One, what was the problem?" Thror asked.

The Chief looked at the vampire:

"What the... did you come... hic... to Headquarters, Light Ones, if I sent everyone... on vacation?!"

He turned away and blew his nose. I poured myself some water from the carafe and drank:

— What's wrong with that? We were also planning to go somewhere today. So we decided to ask you where. Mrak went to Moscow, his sister Valya is there too. The rest are sitting it out in the city.

— Why did I schedule a vacation so early, despite the applications, and September is indicated there? There are very few people in August. Everyone has scattered, crawled to their dachas, garden beds, resorts. Ours have also mostly left. And the Dark Ones too. Let the people think of something to surprise us with. At the end of September we will start working perfectly. — Enerik,After delivering the speech, I wasn't going to stop laughing today. - Do you want to know where exactly I'm going? It's a long story.

- Go ahead! - I waved my hand in agreement, closing my eyes. I knew: there would be chaos.

— I recently received a letter. In one village, not far from here by the Oka, something terrible has appeared and is giving no one any peace. Chupacabra, most likely.

— Chebura… — Thror asked again.

— CHUPACABRA! — the chief cut him off sharply, his cheerfulness vanished as if by magic. He opened the closet and took out a magnificent Chinese robe made of natural silk. This thing was probably three hundred years old. No less. Our Celt himself was sitting in shorts and a black T-shirt. This did not suit his ancient appearance and the beauty that was on his face The land disappeared a long time ago. Not the one that is being restored now, but another one. And here you go — shorts! Anyway, it's clear. Our blond guy is pretty well preserved!

The robe is cream-colored, painted with special care and attention to detail. Every millimeter is drawn in the drawings! On the back there is an embroidery with a dragon spewing fire from its mouth. Cool!

Now in the cozy office all that was left was to unfold the sofa standing by the wall, bring Indian incense sticks, fruit and other food, a case of Tinkoff light beer, and put up a TV. That's it! We could live. His Serene Highness took a watering can and began to water the flowers on the window that had managed to wither: they were standing in the blazing sun! The entire office was filled with them! Some were blooming…

— What other Poke… oh, Chupacabra?

— A monster, small and dangerous. But there are bigger ones. Also: in the Irkutsk region there is a place where there are a lot of ours. The village is called Ix, it is not on the map. The magicians living there — be it Dark or Light - UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCE WILL THEY GIVE A PERSON THEIR SETTLEMENT PLACE!

Aha! That's why "X".

For some reason, at that moment I remembered how I came across a tape of "The X-Files", and it told a similar story: agent Mulder flies to Krasnoyarsk, where he falls into the clutches of terrorists. Who, just like him, are studying an anomalous zone. The UFO crashed, and that's how it all started. It's always like that here.The story ended like this: the FBI agent went to prison and got out of our country thanks to a strange old man who was convicted of crimes and experiments on people.

What the chief said is more drastic than the TV series itself: VILLAGE OF OURS! More drastic than the genealogy of hereditary Mages! When a person turns into one of us, he disappears from the world of people forever. And if he tries to live his old life, he suffers greatly:becomes a stranger in an unfamiliar land. The ability of non-humans lies in their dissimilarity: they can thrive where a mortal cannot live. And where he thrives, non-humans howl. There is nothing in their nature that could satisfy a person’s need for affection, sympathy. If life brought together a non-human with a homo sapiens, the creature has to constantly supplement itself - with those needs and abilities that it is unable to master, much less get used to. And the result is disastrous (maybe that's why people are evil, like animals - they are allowed too much?).

The magician begins to get sick, although the Dark suffers much less than the Light. This is compensated by great charm. Vampires and werewolves take advantage of this - at the same time, people, and even the Light, cannot help but be afraid of them, since the Dark constantly suffer. People themselves create this vicious circle, and therefore it is impossible to love only for appearance. Even our Headquarters Light Forces cannot constantly love the dying. They can only pity them, nothing else. I wonder if our Energizer has gotten tired of pitying humanity for twenty centuries, which constantly gets into trouble? NO, he even likes it, and Siberia too.

But the Dark Headquarters cannot endlessly despise and hate - there is not enough evil for everyone. There is enough strength to laugh, to catch the too trusting, impressionable and to pour into the ranks. There is a lot of such good in Bratsk. Thirty years ago, the Chiefs of Headquarters met in a mortal duel They challenged each other to a duel.On the question: who will get the city? The Light won: the Celt killed his rival, then prudently sent the body to the forefathers. The Inquisition did not even bat an eyelid: it itself allowed everything! Both authorities from the towers gave their consent to the duel. Before this, a tribunal session was held on the case of debauchery, permissiveness in the city of the Dark, the Dark lost the trial. It was 1974.

After some time, the winner (in order to rest from such a significant event) took a four-year leave, appointed someone as the chief, and disappeared. No one knew where the chief of Svetlykh was all this time. The fake "Oleg" began to travel around the villages, helping with good deeds and advice, restoring the spent forces. I drove like that until I completely accidentally came across the village "X", and it began.

The few people who lived there among our people unanimously told the newbie to get out of here while he could. It's dangerous - UFOs fly over the Oka, people disappear and all that. They often told about the glowing balls over the clearing in the forest. Instead of leaving, Arensky began to carefully study the village and very soon discovered that this was the real habitat of the Magi. At first he was happy, but soon there was no time for laughter... He quickly realized HOW lucky he was: there are only a few places in Russia where only their own live.Maybe they even reproduce in batches. Contrary to the statement that said - they cannot reproduce naturally. They live like ordinary people. It is interesting to watch! Almost no one comes here, to the wilderness, there are few birds. Only huge trees rustle, people are almost never encountered - with the exception of those who live in "X".

They live, rarely communicating with anyone. It is understandable - it is scary here. Sometimes rumors circulated among the villagers about strange little animals - with a fox's face and a dinosaur's body. Like Pushkin's lines from "Lukomorye": "There, on unknown paths, are traces of unseen animals. There is a hut on chicken legs without windows, without doors." Enerik, having barely heard the news, immediately understood - they were talking about werewolves.It soon became clear that stories do not come out of thin air. In the spring, while digging up the garden, he noticed a strange creature near the compost pit. He thought that the dog was digging up old seeds, but he threw a stone, and the creature ran away. It whined resentfully, jumping on its powerful hind legs. Its body was like that of a lizard, but covered in long, black fur. On its fingers were curved claws of such a size that they could rip open the belly of a cow or a horse. A forked tongue flashes between its sharp, long teeth.

The man looked fearlessly into the werewolf's eyes and was amazed - HUMAN! Well, well. "Now a dozen of them will show up in the garden and ruin everything," thought the Most Serene, throwing another stone at the creature. This time the creature squealed something, and although the words were unintelligible, several were outlined:

— R — r… rzaraplar — tissya za e — it! — And he jumped over the flimsy fence.

— There are so many evil spirits here…

After that, they hissed at Oleg — especially the old people. The dogs growled, the fortune tellers looked askance at Svetly with suspicion — but he endured and tolerated everything. He studied all the paranormal phenomena in the Oka River area. He was amazed at how everything was distorted. For days, weeks puzzled over what had happened in this village, which had become a refuge for thousands of its own - outcasts. Thought and thought, but could not decide.

- Fire ignites feelings, water quenches desires. When they meet, two elements become one. I still wonder who came up with this heresy. These are illusions. Such things can only be seen in our imagination. In real life - two opposites. - Enerik said quietly, smiling sadly. Now he looked very much like Legolas from the movie "The Lord of the Rings". There was no sparkle or joy in his eyes. He was remembering something that was gone forever. As if our boss had not had any fun that day. His eyes showed weariness - endless.

An archmage with a human soul... An immortal beauty - externally and internally. Tormented by mortal passions. The one who pushed you into the invisible World must have cried? He made such a guy Light! Taking away all the joys of human life, giving him eternal youth. Condemned him to an eternal existence in the world of evil people. That's exactly what I thought, pouring myself a glass of beer. I wonder,who made it that way, right? And we were amazed when the Celt, sipping Czech beer, told a story that happened twenty centuries ago. It was strikingly different from the archived one. Why? Apparently, not everyone is interested in a real biography. And what if both were made up?

HISTORY OF ENERICA

"Despite the fact that I sometimes call myself a Viking, I am a Celt. I remember how our tribe celebrated the victory over the Roman invaders, I sat at the table at the feast, having fun just like a boy. I was at least eighteen years old then. I was hopelessly spoiled. A young rake, who loved to swing a sword, without stopping to have fun. I lived as a complete egoist, so I never paid attention to other people's troubles and requests. And girls ran after me in crowds, hearing only insolent laughter in response to my declarations of love.

My mother is an ordinary Celtic girl, my father is a wandering minstrel. A beggar, at that. Ah! These two turned out to be made for each other! The father, having learned about his daughter's love, locked the girl at home, but the beauty Elindra still met with her lover. Climbing out of the window when her parents were asleep. Then she would disappear for a whole day - they were very good together. The young man took my mother to the most picturesque places, gave in to her every desire. But their embraces were pure, innocent. Their kisses were pure and sweet, their words were sincere.

When my father was getting ready to get married, he turned to the druids. They said he would have a son, but with a terrible character, the boy was destined to become Great. The rest of the prediction was rather vague. No one could fully understand it. In the end, my mother became pregnant. My father got married, then I was born. The birth was very hard, the contractions lasted for two days. Elindra almost died, but she was saved.

At thirteen, I tried wine for the first time. I started to have fun, because I liked it. At fifteen, I lost my virginity to my first love, and off it went. At eighteen, I was seriously wounded in battle. Now I understand - this is the price for selfishness. Maybe it was the wound that determined what would happen next.

Soon, Elindra fell seriously ill and died. My father lived a little and hanged himself from grief. Only then, at nineteen and a half, did my brain finally begin to fall into place. After that, how my parents left for the other world forever. Left alone, I bitterly regretted what I had done before. Friends turned away, relatives too, and it was decided to live differently. It was time! I left the tribe for Byzantium, became a monk, renounced all earthly joys. I led such an existence for five months. Then I discovered the gift of foresight in myself, and began to develop it.

It was then that a certain Ekiestes came to our monastery, whom many people didn’t like right away. And he behaved strangely. But despite this, we became friends. After such an acquaintance, my eyes began to open and I began to look at the world in a completely different way. This guy from Byzantium put a lot of pressure on my psyche, condemning my negative actions. This went on for quite a long time. In the end, I couldn’t stand it and broke away. into the world of people, but I could no longer live among them. It seemed that I had calmed down - the harmful person was not around, but no! In order to avoid his persecution, I began to look with sincere kindness at the people, running away from the intrusive man. But this did not give anything. The more I communicated with him, the stranger and more absurd my dreams and visions became. Sometimes I looked at my shadow for a long time. It seemed to me - it absorbed me, falling into it. I raised my head - and instead of the blue sky I saw only black and white colors, scared out of my wits. Time in this strange space flowed very slowly. I saw the thoughts of those around me, and, making appropriate conclusions on this basis, changed for the better. I became so ashamed and hurt for the past!

So I became a Light Mage. And then an Archmage. Having entered an unknown World through the fault of the Dark One - a vampire. And as a reward I received a very long life, eternal youth. Before the initiation I used to think how I could so calmly endure the suffering of people, come out alive from the hottest battles, and only then it dawned on me - these are the abilities of a non-human helped out. Almost got into court with the churches. My life schedule hasn't changed for centuries."

The Svetlykh chief drank the last drops of beer, took a coin from the table and threw it up. Then he pressed it with his palm. And I thought about it. There are too many inconsistencies in the story. A pagan and a Christian at the same time?! Impossible! Or he's lying to minors - the beer has gone to his head. I DON'T BELIEVE IT!

- Enerik, so you were made what you are by a vampire!? By persecution, and not by natural means!?

- Exactly. - Kelt nodded gloomily. - He drove me to the brink. Now listen. See the coin? I want to organize a small expedition to Oka, to rest there. There are many villages... - and then what I was afraid of came out of his mouth:

- We'll go to village "X" at least!

— We heard about it once. A terrible place. In some of our groups they tell stories that send shivers down your spine. In winter, Komsomolskaya Pravda wrote an article — Chupacabra appeared, or died — they found a skeleton, a small one: all dog, but a fox's head.

— I've seen such! A real werewolf!

— No, boss! After death, the body is immersed in the invisible World. And here is a skeleton. — Valyuk said, frowning.

— You are mistaken, Valera. Village "X", where we are going, is a zone where everything is different. Most likely, the article was written by the Dark, or the Light, tormented by curiosity. He made up things, distorted the facts. Most likely, the writer is a villager from "X". He went crazy from isolation, decided to hand over. I also have a godson living in this wilderness. The boy is probably not happy about this situation at all.

My face stretched out in amazement:

— HOW?! WHY?! To have a godfather, and the Most Serene One at that, is something you can only dream of! It's rare that you get to have a guy looked after by...

- I don't look after him! I haven't seen him for twenty-six years! He delivered the baby, that's all.

- I hope it was from the Light. - Andrey said. - What's wrong with that?

- I don't argue. But...

- What "but"?

- HE TURNED OUT TO BE A DARK MAGICIAN OF TERRIBLE POWER FROM BIRTH! I SAW THE ESSENCE RIGHT IN MY HANDS!

There was silence. Cool.

I LOOK AT THE WATCH: 17 — 20.

THOUGHTS AND POEMS ARE SPINNING IN MY HEAD

“Rain brought or leaf fall this name, but I can’t turn away your gaze with my eyes.” It sounds like an incomprehensible Call. I didn’t like the first one. Despite the fact that it was full of romance. What kind of romance do we have now? Ugh! And the voice, oddly enough, is female. I wonder who exactly it was intended for? Me? Hardly… I wonder if the boss heard? He probably pressed his lips together strangely, as if he remembered something he couldn’t say.

Beautiful verses. They are sung by someone’s heart, which was broken after experiencing unhappy love… Love that is gone forever and will never happen again. A song about a heart that is aching, frozen for a very long time in an evil human world that has long forgot about many things. For example, I have this opinion: external beauty is always deceptive...

Even the Chameleon, who appeared out of nowhere, was the most real embodiment of all our virtues and shortcomings. So he rushed here and there until he brought down all the darkness on himself, despairing of going over either to the side of Good or to the side of Evil. Yes... The boy couldn't take it anymore. He broke. And this strange genealogy... Maybe this is someone's empty and stupid joke? A stupid mistake, not caring about oneself. A joke that Illyo threw at us, downloaded from a website on the Internet. Making us understand: we, non-humans, are too confused, have strayed far from the original plan of life. By putting pressure on the innocent Alexander, we almost committed a crime. We should have stayed out of this man's life altogether the boy, take your time, wait until he makes up his mind... But they couldn't stand it, they started catching the unfortunate teenager - instead of letting him go in peace. No - they were so scared - they couldn't control themselves! Both Headquarters were made fools.

Alexander was strange by nature. Later, when I talked to his parents, I learned that this guy suffered from an inferiority complex, and hereditary predisposition played a fatal role. They say it's true: you can't crush genes with your finger!

Thus, the greatest discovery was made. An event that happens once in a hundred years: a Chameleon is born - very dangerous for others: magicians, werewolves, vampires, warlocks, witches... The best weapon against him is to touch nothing and leave him alone. Then he himself will decide what to choose - Light or Darkness. Even in the capital, this was not known before! What surprised me was something else: the creature cannot be turned, abilities do not show until a certain time, and then the real nightmare begins. The division into Light and Dark principles begins, and if at this stage something jams, you get an albino - Chameleon. Fortunately, everything happens very rarely. But it looks very beautiful.

For all of us, this was a kind of lesson. How late we realized this!

It's raining outside, I'm sitting in the kitchen. Little droplets hit the glass, knock-knock. It's nice, fresh, the freshness has flooded the entire park, the air is mixed with ozone and the scent of flowers... Nature, washed by the rain, seems to be happy. Despite the fact that yesterday there was heavy smoke hanging over Bratsk - smog from BRAZA. I look out the window and I remember my childhood - a distant childhood, when I saw the world completely differently and was happy: I ran along a sunlit path, caught butterflies, loving everyone in the world...

August twenty-eighth. Six in the morning. I don't want to sleep. I read poetry, writing the text in my notebook

I look at the white ceiling and think. Different thoughts come into my head. I think about how to find a common language, a normal language with those around me - people, Mages. Some are physically lonely, and some are morally lonely. I am lonely in the second sense. The Light Headquarters of Bratsk received me rather coolly, and for a while everyone ignored me... except for the boss. He became my best friend and assistant, almost a brother. We talked for hours, touching on extremely serious topics. Sometimes, however, Enerik swore a lot.

And now he laughed at the fact that the entire team showed up for work at the beginning of the vacation. In a good way, we managed to drink beer right in his office! A rare occurrence! We drank, having learned about how our Celt became who he is now... But I still DID NOT BELIEVE this story. The details are TOO far-fetched. And he is unlikely to tell his real biography. That's a fact. The first story has already happened, now there is a second one. What's next?

Personally, beer sometimes helps me relax, forget about the bad,in a good way. Despite the fact that I am an Inquisitor. I don’t drink much, and I can only get drunk on rare occasions. Now I enjoy my rest - if I want, I wander around the city, even greeting the Dark Ones. They, by the way, too. What else... I am not married, I don’t have a lover. And I don’t want this: women are actually such creatures who are always demanding something from us, -constantly, giving nothing in return. I also can't stand them for their overly chatty language, their antics. FOOLS! They consider us goats with big horns. Let them: I don't care.

I got up, shaved, washed myself, and at breakfast I think: is it worth going or not. Probably, it is necessary, since the Inquisition is practically absent here.Enerik has a godson living in a village where there are only monsters... DARK! Another rare case. Such thoughts made him choke on his coffee. Twenty-six years have passed since our Celt left the village "X". At that time, as he says, the village was not on the map. Maybe someone found it and demolished it, just as they have been wanting to demolish the village of Chekanovsky for a long time?

Maybe. The Most Serene One just wants to make sure. He noticed back then: there is no church in the village - the first sign. People remained in "X" - those who were lucky. If this is really so, then they have learned to get along with other creatures. No other way. After all, the blond lived with a human woman at first, until he built a hut! I wonder if she is still alive?

I get up, wash the dishes, clean the room and open the closet.

I wonder what's going on there at the moment? So... I have a jacket with a warm lining, I need to sew up my socks, I put all my underwear in the suitcase first, wrapped in a bag. I'm clearly not going to swim in the river - the water is already cold. All the summer clothes stay at home. Except clothes, I need to take something to read. Anne Rice, "The X-Files" - a widely published book series, very similar to the life of magicians and werewolves with vampires in Siberia. Maybe that's why I like these books.

I am partially deprived of the Force - when I left Moscow, I "discharged":so that here, in completely different conditions, it would not press on the soul and psyche. It still presses! The one that remains. It resembles the torment of a prisoner - his legs are shackled, his arms are twisted behind his back, there is a wall behind him, a window in front, from which light barely breaks through. The prisoner tries to free himself, he strains, writhes,He tries to get out, but these attempts bring him only pain and even greater suffering. He cries for help - but there is not a soul around, NO ONE HEARS ANYTHING. And if pitiful cries are heard - the guards will laugh and go to the end of the corridor.

When the exhausted, maimed, tortured boy is found and freed, he will not be able to take a step, he will fall at the feet of his saviors. They will give him water, food, and carry him out of the fortress in their arms. It will take a long time for the wounds on his soul and body to heal. The freed man will first shy away from the outside world,will be afraid of people. They will look at him like a cornered animal, poke him with their fingers. When all the negativity is erased from memory and health improves, life will become bright and happy.

Maybe it will take several years to heal…

JUST IF HE CAN STAY THROUGH IT!

And now I'm packing. Maybe it will be easier in "X"? And the hell, there are Dark Ones there! The hell, the boss has a godson!

It took me about forty minutes to get ready. Then I went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and got out some lard.

"Hmm..." I think to myself out loud. "In vain... In vain you, Inquisitor, were drawn into work in Siberia - to study the behavior and nature of the creatures of these places! To catch vampires, to look into the swollen mugs of cops, bandits and oligarchs, to laugh at the impostors - punks. It may well be that these are not the same ones who are with you at Headquarters work. And creatures tired of life? Eh - no! You can safely cross out Enerik from this list! He is a very strong Mage! I love him like a brother, and respect him."

He went to the mirror, picked up a glass of beer, clinked glasses with himself:

"Really, Max?"

And he answered himself:

"True. But you shouldn't trust it too much. Remember, Maxim, the notes on the history of the city: all sorts of bastards built it! It was a zone! So many scum, outcasts of society and bandits came to the taiga from all over Russia that there was an impossibly large amount of Darkness. The first generation of builders from different cities are now having their day lives out. Their children repeat the fates of their parents, so sometimes you don’t understand the behavior of this or that person.”

It seems that I’m starting to go crazy little by little… I go to the tape recorder, turn it on, press the “play” button. I came across a very clever song on the cassette.

The same day.

Five o’clock in the evening.

An old car is driving through a forest somewhere near the sea outside the city

A Volga-type car is heading towards the forest - or rather, we are already in the forest. There are five of us: Beregond, myself, the driver - Enerik, Valyuk, Yegor - Psycho. We joke, we have fun. Unlike everyone else, the Archmage sits silently behind the wheel, watching the road. Every now and then he glances into the invisible World - are there any obstacles. So far so good. There is a lot of gasoline in the tank - it should be enough for about a hundred kilometers, we stocked up on it to the brim: more poured into canisters, having spent a lot of money. Then the Light Ones will have to do a little mischief at the gas stations: put a false memory on a person, get fuel for free. Not good.

The forest rushed past, merging into a multi-colored strip of scarlet, yellow, green, black flowers. Headphones stick out of their ears, from which great classics flow: Prokofiev (“Montagues and Capulets”), Liszt (“Dreams of Love”, “The Elixir of Love”), Pallo (“Morning”)... Somehow incomprehensibly divine melodies suit the September landscapes and even the weather outside the window.

The car slowed down: we climbed a hill, from where the sea was clearly visible - blue, like a cornflower field. And in the distance on the opposite shore a mountain range was visible, then another one, dissolving into the horizon... In the water, several tiny islands overgrown with grass were visible. There were dead trees on them, which looked like sticks. A rare haze, the smell of mushrooms, colored leaves are already visible on the forest paths - still few in number, but still you can feel the atmosphere of some strange peace - peace that can only be found where there is no man at all. As if the Irkutsk region is a unique place where people do not live at all, but there are only birches, straight as an arrow, pines. Very tall - about twenty meters. I don't recommend looking up for a long time: you can faint from dizziness.

Birches with yellow leaves are bent, bending their branches to the ground, and their cracked bark says something else: the trees are very old, so each leaf is beautiful in its own way. A mountain overgrown with forest, - which we are currently driving along, admiring the unearthly landscapes, descends to the sea, and, in my opinion, we need to slow down: otherwise we will fall down. From the cliff. To my left, the shore drops off, so the mountain resembles a pie from which a piece has been torn off the edge.

Small, thin, young trees and bushes resemble children and teenagers. And taller and thicker trees resemble men and women. Pines resemble young men, birches and aspens resemble girls with chestnut, golden hair, wreaths on their heads. They are in white, greenish dresses made of embroidered linen. They resemble women, in whose eyes wisdom appears. Beautiful, very... and the Light Force is all around. Silence. Dead. Above us and the forest is a clear, blue sky, reflected in the sea, on the surface of which there is not even a ripple! I can’t, I can’t tear my eyes away from this beauty!!!

But we still drive on, and the landscape changes.

A solid golden glow of millions of leaves flared before our eyes, and at high speed we literally instantly “crash”, fly in and dissolve in the birch grove. Violating the innocence of this giant yellow sea. Quietly rustling. If you look from a crop duster plane, it might seem that waves are running across the surface of this ocean — the wind is stirring the beauty birches, so tender, so alive... I don't understand how you can chop down such beauties for firewood! I don't understand! It seemed like the sea had swallowed us, we drowned in it. Birds and animals live in it, and tons of boletus mushrooms grow on the bottom... Mushrooms here... You're collecting! It's probably time for people to open a real business on mushrooms in Siberia, all at once cleared up... I mean ecology. Only no one will ever collect anything - and that's a pity.

A jolt brought me back from my dreams to reality: we stopped. We got out. Enerik shook his head, throwing off his beret - and his golden hair ran down his back in waves. Another gold was added to the landscape. The difference is this: soon the leaves will fall from the trees dead, turning into black soil over time, and the locks of His Serene Highness are alive. I always wanted to touch them with my hand. I don’t know if the boss guessed it or not. Just to touch them, nothing personal! Don’t think anything bad! NO ONE ELSE IN THE WORLD HAS SUCH CURLS. The Celt’s long eyelashes trembled. He was happy and grinned from ear to ear.


- Do you know why I love Siberia? For the beauty of nature! - He exclaimed. So, the rest doesn't count. As if on wings, the Archmage ran to the old birch and hugged it, stroking the bark. We smiled.

- We need to sit here for an hour. We'll have a bite to eat and decide where to go next.

— A…

— Don’t use the portal: you’ll end up in the wrong place anyway. There’s not enough magic to create it. You can only drive for two days, maybe less: at night I’ll be driving at full speed, like a madman. There are almost no people here, cars are completely unheard of on the roads covered with asphalt. Or we’ll be stuck in a car for three days: if we stop overnight. We’ll put a vehicle around the vehicle magic barrier: it can be dangerous in the forests these days: despite the fact that there are almost no people here - only rapists from prisons and all sorts of unafraid animals walk around. It's very, very good that there are no girls in our company. And we won't make a fire.

Evening - about nine.

Fields of wheat, which are only meant for cattle feed, rush past. It's a good thing I brought a journal with me, but the pen is running out of ink.

Clouds are crawling across the sky. And on the horizon it has turned into a bloody sea - the sunset has flared up. The colors are unusual, provocative, they are of different shades: crimson is predominant there, and complex,beautiful, ecologically clean, webs of wires cross the horizon, adding black to the landscape. Nearby, the tops of trees turn black. Power lines appear before your eyes, like giant stick insects. They rise above a lonely field. A perfect combination of past and present. It’s both scary and interesting: what is this really? They are installed everywhere – all over the field,this is actually the case. They are installed everywhere - all over the field, tiny, pretty fir trees grow nearby. Iron structures even in the forest: sticking out of the forest like a station, the wind humming in the wires... And the radio is playing in the car. Finally, my head fell on the seat, and I fell into a pleasant sleep. We stopped again... And it was wonderful: why wear yourself out?

August twenty-ninth. One o'clock in the afternoon - probably just because my watch stopped for no apparent reason, and not just mine!

Egor is sitting on a stump near the car, playing the guitar. Enerik is singing - finally! Otherwise he's driving and keeping quiet, like a partisan being interrogated. Let him sing about everything... Especially about women. Oh yes, he loved them! In every sense of the word. Closing his eyes, the Most Serene Magician of Bratsk sang quietly, beautifully, heartfelt. Aren't you tired of reading poetry on almost every sheet of paper, huh? By the way, if you've read this far, then no. I'm saying this to those who dare to stick their noses into my notebook without asking.

Egor put his musical instrument aside, reached out and took the skewer with shashlik off the fire, and began to eat with the chef, burning his lips and washing down the meat with low-alcohol beer. Having finished his portion, the golden-haired man threw his head back, inhaled the fresh air with pleasure, picked up the guitar and looked at us again.

- And now I will play. This is a story about a girl who lived five hundred years ago. I loved her, beautiful and smart. It hurts to love and see how people dear to me sooner or later grow old,are sent to another world. Okay, I’ve opened up a bit. Probably because it’s cold…

“Play, Enerik!” Valyuk asked.

“You’re standing there, naked…” the young man said tenderly, but sternly and quietly. He unzipped his bag and took out a warm white sweater. Then he raised his head, and his big eyes suddenly, for no apparent reason, opened wide.

- This is... This is... - he couldn't speak from amazement.

- What did you see there? An airplane?

The guy waved his hand, pointed his finger somewhere up. The boss looked at the sky with his inner vision, smiled. But there was no joy in that smile.

- It's okay, friends. A flying saucer, a UFO. A saucer, a small one, that accidentally got into our world through energy holes. Therefore, we are approaching the village "X".

After these words, something seemed to snap inside me. If Nature is so raging here, - or whatever (or not?), then what will begin going on in the village where Enerik is rushing to, as if possessed? All these poems are nothing other than the Call... The Call that is impossible to resist. The melody from The X-Files immediately came to mind... And the title sequence, depicting a photograph of a man pointing his hand at a UFO. An hour passed. The plate by — still hung in the air, blinking its white lights. What next?

- Enerik... And in "X" there is more than enough of such stuff? - Yegor asked very carefully, looking with bulging eyes at the unidentified flying object.

- Yes. There is an anomalous zone there. Every winter, huge wolves roam the roads. These werewolves of people and Mages - Light ones in general They don't touch you, but you should take some vodka with you just in case: they can't stand alcohol. Throw it in their face if they attack - that's enough for them. The population will not agree to drink at the celebration under any pretext. The good news is that not all of Russia drinks.

Another hour passed: the UFO managed to fly away towards the field, and began to descend. The saucer first flew above the ground, and then disappeared. It has begun. It seems that we will see more than this. And let no one say that the valiant Headquarters of the Light is not like the others! Let's move on. Someone was finishing his shashlik, singing, and was silent. But the Celt became more and more joyful. Without thinking at all WHAT awaits us in the village of creatures and magicians! The Call has really grabbed him! Probably, his godson missed him. It became scary.

At five o'clock in the evening, the gas station sign flashed. It's time to fill up again. No matter how much our conscience gnaws at us, the workers will have to brainwashing... And this is bad, very bad. And the Call still does not lag behind the boss. The Call of the Dark Mage. I wonder WHAT happened in this wilderness, if the Archmage rushed there, as if possessed?! Sorry, I repeat, - emotions.

The night from the twenty-ninth to the thirtieth of August.

Two o'clock - the clock finally turned on

…Rays of light from headlights pierce the darkness. They look like a starry sky: There is more than enough darkness around, but the white on black in the form of dots looks amazing. But there are brighter luminaries - in the city: spotlights, street lamps, three-color traffic lights. There is, unfortunately, an unwritten truth: for fun, you can break a lamp. Or unscrew a light bulb in the entrance. A nasty rule is always fulfilled. Freezing rain is pouring down. No one is sleeping. It is impossible to drive: the road is so slushy that the wheels cannot turn. Drops are knocking on the roof and glass, there are so many of them that the windshield wipers are no longer able to clean the window. And the knocking on the roof gives rise to suspicion: the water is about to bore a hole. Whether you give the power engineer a clean window or a dirty one, his it doesn't bother me at all: it looks through the invisible World to the sides. And in front of us are walls of water.

It's warm - the stove has been working for an hour already. Sleep disappeared as if by magic in the evening, when the clouds covered the sky - everything somehow gathered internally, feeling a threat from outside. It was born in the subconscious, grew with every minute. It felt like there was something above my head something is flying. Big and dangerous, hanging overhead...

The radio is also on, "Nashe Radio" is playing.

Suddenly it crackles and stops playing. The machine is acting up at first, then there is a pretty powerful jolt - that's it...

They finally stopped.

We're almost there. The boss looked at the gas gauge in amazement: full! He sat silently for two minutes, and then... only then... Then he started swearing so much that we were all scared out of our wits. I won't write down all the swearing in the diary.

- ...M... Mother! Start up! Start up! Darkness... so... Start up! -He starts the car, turns the key - no use. He looked at the map from the forties - just a little bit left.

- Enerik, calm down! Why react so sharply - maybe the engine overheated? You turned on the heater so much - we got boiled! You were driving the car at an inadmissible speed even before the storm!

— Maybe… — The boss calmed down a bit. — Although…

— We arrived, since the car suddenly stopped for no reason. Huh? "X"? — Yegor asked in a whisper, without moving.

— There are about ten kilometers left to the village. If, of course, you believe the map. Let's wait a bit — maybe we're crossing the anomaly zone. When that happens, all the equipment comes to an end. Here some kind of strange radiation comes from the ground. But not always, but in short pulses. I cursed, not out of malice, but out of amazement - we drove, drove, then that's it. As if there was an invisible wall ahead of us. And... Ugh! My watch stopped! Everything turned off! Just like twenty-six years ago! As soon as I entered the village "X" - my watch brand new, gold, stopped working immediately! Returned to Bratsk - let's go!

- The equipment is very sensitive to anomalies. We will wait until the nature of the unknown radiation stabilizes. This will take two or three hours.

- And we did not end up in a time hole?

— No. This also stops the equipment. Only with one difference: it breaks down later.

The rain continued to fall, dying down. Sometimes lightning flashed in the clouds, and in its instantaneous flash, small houses were visible in the distance, of which there were probably only twenty thousand. It is hard to believe that such a large village, which once flourished, became something incomprehensible. Where the invisible World claims its rights and supports life. Or not life. But still, hostility emanated from the village called "X". Mysticism! And the lightning is strange: it flashes scarlet, then green. Flying saucers: they want to land, but they can't yet - it's dangerous. Well, that doesn't concern us.

Three hours later.

I stared at the road, not understanding anything. The car still wouldn't start. It was drizzling. After thinking for a moment, the boss opened the door, got out and started walking on the wet grass nearby.

"Here I am, village "X"..." he exhaled. He looked at the sky. The clouds weren't parting. The green and scarlet lights stopped blinking, a warm wind blew, and there was a smell of ozone.

Suddenly, over the field, almost at the very ground, far, far away, luminous dots appeared. Enerik was happy, thinking that cars were coming towards him, but there was dead silence. Five minutes later, it turned out that these were simply spherical clots of energy unknown to man. Five balls of regular shape were flying, as if playing with each other. with a friend in tag. Apparently, they appeared during a thunderstorm, and now they have descended. But no.

“What the invisible World will not give birth to…” Valyuk sighed.

Or maybe there is a special point there that attracts them and feeds this UFO. In addition, the Archmage noticed huge circles and patterns on the field in the glow of the five objects. Now it is clear why The car wouldn't budge: cosmic radiation had put it out of order. And our heads were aching. Oh! We'll have something to tell in Moscow! Twenty-five minutes later the balloons rose into the air and disappeared behind the clouds. Far away on the horizon, where there were no clouds, a new day was being born as a scarlet stripe. My watch with its hands showed the time: two hours, thirty-five minutes and seven seconds of the night. Cold, damp, grey.

I put the pen aside and fall into a deep sleep. And I hear, almost asleep, the engine starts, the car moves on…

What should we do now?

August 30

Nothing like that happened. We discussed what happened, slept after an interesting night, having driven into the thicket.

THIRTY-FIRST OF AUGUST

We pondered over what the boss had seen at five in the morning the day before. We hadn't managed to get anywhere, but the vacation had been extended until mid-October. Summer had passed.

First of September: Knowledge Day.

For some it is, for others it is not. For all of us it is a simple day. We finally got out of the forest - hungry and sleepy. Kelt drove onto the road, we walked side by side. The state is as if someone hit me on the head with a bag.

The village is located almost on the very bank of the Oka River, the most beautiful, calm, wide. Blue and mystical: only ours live on its banks - of all stripes. At least here. What I don’t know what’s going on in the area that’s far from “X”. And why should I know? The autumn forest was turning crimson on both banks. Sometimes there was a green tint: pines, cedars. The sound of an axe was heard, then a crackle – someone was preparing firewood. It smelled of fish and mushrooms. But in the fresh air there was something heavy, incomprehensible – it’s always like that where non-humans live. Where there is no man… But here’s what what was incomprehensible was - he couldn't understand. I was so tired after three days - my head was a complete mess. At first glance, the huts were nothing. An ordinary village.

The boss parked the car by the river in an abandoned barn, cast a spell on the lock. He ran up a small hill near the cliff, from where the vastness of nature was visible, pulled off his shirt... What is it him!? We have come to this… The wind played with his golden hair, caressed and kissed his young, elastic body. His hair reciprocated the wind, swaying like waves. At first it seemed to me that Enerik was about to jump, transforming into a seagull in mid-flight and flying away. But His Serene Highness sat cross-legged, and, resting, began to meditate. Now the reason for the strange behavior - he adapts to the aura of these places, gets used to it. So that various kinds of Force do not press on the soul. I also sat in the Lotus position, froze. The Invisible World hesitated at first, then calmed down and became quiet: two different energies accepted each other. So now you can communicate with everyone - both with the Dark and the Light.

Deuter's lovely melodies, painfully similar to The Call, were playing in my head. When I hear them in my head or in real time, for some reason I imagine a field - a summer endless field, with one single birch tree, overgrown with grass or clover. A warm breeze is blowing and a white butterfly is flying. The body flies up, plays with clouds… Plays until you open your eyes and feel that several hours have passed. That all the negativity has evaporated and it has become light.

We will not stay long in the village.

The same day. Seven o'clock in the evening

We are sitting on a small veranda. There is also a playground for children - abandoned, flooded with sunlight. The children have long since grown up and now, probably, fondly remember their childhood. When Enerik last saw the son and daughter of the owner - they were very small. Now the grown-up guy has probably long ago got married, and the girl is married. I wonder how they will react when they see the Celt again - after almost three decades?

The owner decided that the playground could still be used, and made a flower corner out of it, only a few places remained untouched. On the table in the house there is a huge bouquet of asters and saffron, on the window - white curtains. They are hanging like that - all twenty-six years. Here time does not move forward at all: the same huts, the same people, the same interior in the house as during the Soviet Union in the post-war years... Just like a real museum!

The dacha was a beautiful hut made of round logs, two-story. True - as the boss told me - it has changed a little. The roof is different, the stairs too. The garden has expanded - therefore, we need to help harvest the crop.

The energy balance has also changed: the atmosphere is no longer felt as before - probably because the children have grown up. You can't hear children's laughter, and their mother - Elena Dmitrievna - has grown old. A kind person, very good, you can't turn her into a Sorceress. Too bad! The last time the Celt saw her was when she was very young girl. Now she is a mature woman, who has white threads in her hair. She also has a thick, long braid - four centimeters wide! Thickness - two centimeters. Maybe that is why we, Magi, do not like to depend on anyone - to marry or get married.

Elena greeted us all very warmly, hugged our boss for ten minutes on the threshold, shook hands with the others. A very kind woman...

- Oleg... Oleg! You haven't aged at all! When you left after Anna gave birth, I thought: you said goodbye to us forever. That's probably why he disappeared - he was afraid that they would call you the father of the child... After that, everyone said the same thing! Everyone believed this nonsense, Svetly.

Wow!

- And I am also grateful for saving my daughter from illness. No one could help her, she was lying and dying. You got her back on her feet! For that I loved her like a son! - And she kissed her on the cheek. - My daughter remembers kindness. She grew up to be a beauty, and my son is handsome too. - The hostess sat down on the bench and began to comb her hair with a wooden comb. - Now the children help run the house.

Having sorted out the attic where we were all placed, Enerik went down and asked quietly:

- What about the husband?

- He was killed. - The woman answered dryly, the smile instantly leaving her face. Thin fingers braided her hair, easily tying it with a ribbon.

- Who? Could it be that same undead that bred here in the seventies, or even earlier?

- My husband turned out to be a Dark werewolf. He went into the forest at the end of December to celebrate the New Year with his people - everything as usual, and the next day the crazy Light One went hunting. Bam - and gone! Then they found a corpse - a week later.

Oleg darkened. He bit his lip.

Apparently, Yegor heard the conversation and came up from the porch.

“So what’s going on?” He began with pain in his voice. “In your village, no one has ever heard of anything?! In a village whose existence no one even suspects…” Silence in response.

“Yes. Our village is cut off from both the world of Mages and people. I’ve lived here my whole life, I’ll never move to another place. I’ve never been in the cities, I only know from stories how they live there. No one will ever be able to find us from people. And if a person who accidentally got here tries to harm us, he will pay dearly for it! Creatures from villages, different cities of the Irkutsk region live here, but not from Moscow. Remember: your rules, laws are on us do not spread. We have our own, our own hierarchy! And no one - unlike the city dwellers - is angry that a Dark Mage, vampire or werewolf has snuck in as a suitor for a Light girl.

We listened to the unusual information, literally with our mouths open. They live normally! The man talks about us as if he himself is not human! Such things, apparently, only happen in Siberia!But in general, it's great: the village is full of mixed ones! Although Oleg - Enerik heard something else: rarely do black and white spouses have children - the Rh factor kicks in. Or a miscarriage occurs. Although love stands above Darkness and Light, and the devil knows what the Charter, the clashes of the Dark and Light, and the invisible World - what's the big deal, it's common to everyone, no one divides it. Everything is turned upside down!Well, that's their business. But it's a shame.

Egor was gnawing on an apple. He took a can of beer out of his bag and secretly started drinking.

- Are there any other evil spirits in the forests besides werewolves?

- Yes. CHUPACABRA has appeared here - the entire population is afraid of it. It inspires terror and fear. I don't advise you to look for it. I don't know which of the Dark Ones is so mad. Or a narcissistic guy who has to do nothing. The creature looks scary - like a dinosaur, with eyes all over its head, like the humanoids from flying saucers. Got it?

A strong chill ran down my spine. Aunt Lena, too, apparently felt uneasy: she probably didn't like talking about such a topic.

THE NEXT DAY. MORNING

Elena Dmitrievna took an aluminum bucket out of the cupboard, disinfected it with boiling water, and went outside. Now we'll drink some milk! He went to the washbasin to wash up, and on the way he heard:

- Boys! I'll heat up a bathhouse for you tonight! I didn't think our Oleg would come back, and not alone! I'm glad! - The hostess ran off to the cowshed.

- Strange people: she doesn't even sense any trickery about us and the name "Oleg." - I muttered, and then jumped up in surprise. Because from behind I heard:

- I began to respect this woman: she copes with the household perfectly well without a husband! Not everyone can do that. - It turned out to be Beregond.

After washing up, I climbed up to the second floor and stretched out on the folding bed. My body ached: I hadn't woken up completely yet. From the window I could see the Oka. Around it, as far as the eye could see, was a solid forest. Nothing else. Not a soul. Taiga. Somewhere very far away there was the Bratsk Reservoir. There was also the city of Bratsk, and thousands of kilometers away was Moscow. It seemed I could already see that city – it was very, very small, or I was going in the wrong direction I'm watching? But the boss is not drawn to the capital at all: he has settled down firmly in Siberia. For me, it is just a temporary refuge. We are different. And the people here are completely different.

I couldn't sleep at night. There was a feeling that someone was crawling under the windows, then it turned out: an old apple tree rustled its leaves and the wind was brushing the glass with its branches. It was very cold outside, you could hear the constant croaking of frogs and toads. Although I very much doubted that these were real amphibians. There were no more flashes in the sky, it was starry. Nothing moved in it. The Archmage sat by the window, looking at the horizon through the invisible World. Empty. No Chupacabra in sight. Far, far away on the Oka bank a fire was burning: fishermen were netting were getting ready to set up. What do you want to do here, Chief of the Light? Who did you like here, a beautiful Celt, a Light mage with a dark past? The night was retreating, and a thick fog began to creep over the forest and the river. Then the silence was cut by someone's loud clucking, very similar to a bird.

No matter how much we tried to set the clocks, nothing worked: they stopped dead. Both with hands and electronic ones. Everything looks very much like there are iron ore deposits under the village. True, one type of clock did not stop: sand clocks. This is my joke. But ALL the laws of physics changed here, the nature of the incomprehensible radiation (the same one that caused our car to stop in the rain the day before yesterday) unknown even to Enerik. In the mornings he wandered around the field where strange patterns were displayed. The chief rummaged around in the attic, found a physics textbook and began to conduct experiments. The results were stunning... As if something had jammed in nature. The invisible World is very strong here.

Besides, his head hurts, but as soon as he drinks milk, everything immediately goes away. In the morning, delirium of the following content creeps into his head:

"I don't want to love, and I don't want to be loved here at all. Because I understand how it will all turn out: first meetings, then falling in love, then bed, then the limit comes, and one of the two will say: "I came to the meeting to talk about this: we need to break up. In all this time, I couldn't love you for real. Now let's go to my house and talk about everything, okay? And don't cry: it will pass quickly, I've checked. You will still find yourself a worthy person and with time you will understand what a bastard I am" ... And your friends will say:

"Oh, you shouldn't have kept him/her with you: they're a party crowd. If you start pressuring them to hang out with more than just friends, he/she won't tolerate it and will dump them. You should dump them yourself. Forget about it - you'll find someone better."

Scary, isn't it? My stories probably make the blood of Moscow Mages run cold. I DON'T WANT THIS FATE FOR MYSELF! When our Headquarters found all sorts of ours among the fraternal party-goers and sent its employees to them - in order to check who was Dark, who was Light - the same thing always happened: the stupid losers abandoned their loved ones and went to their friends for good. In the environment who disappeared as individuals. When the abandoned Magi from Headquarters told the details to the chief, he threatened to kill all the underage blockheads. Then the blood of the others ran cold from the terrible heartlessness of the cattle. One thing is clear - you can't trust any parties: there are only Dark Ones there. The Light Ones would never do such a thing. They tried not to show themselves. The saddest thing is that there are so many people in Bratsk most, especially gopniks - as if someone is reproducing them from a template. Or from a Xerox machine - which is jammed and can't stop. All that's left is to take a sledgehammer, smash the machine to smithereens - so that the madness ends...

If you look closely at the past and present, predict what will happen next at such a given pace, then normal life in the fraternal lands will come only in twenty to forty years. Only then will the blackness itself outlive itself (If I become a nuclear physicist, I will work at a military base - I will drop a bomb on this ****SK. It is clear why the renaming: love is confused with sex, a woman is meat, with whom you don’t need to communicate - it’s a waste of time with stupid chatter: that’s what men think). If you open the necessary literature, read the history of Bratsk - from the page when the first exiles to Siberia began, the construction of the hydroelectric power station, and stop around the mid-nineties - you will become scared. If you brush aside economic life, see the truth. And it truly terrifying: the exile of bandits to the city, their freedom, hopeless drug addiction in the late eighties, demonstrations of mothers of drug-addicted daughters along the avenues, tears, red posters: "Save our children." Even earlier, the city became the first - in the region - in the number of divorces. Everything was carefully hidden and is hidden under cultural life, people are incredibly greedy for money, other people's kind, excessively proud, evil. I want to say: "Put up electric barbed wire around Bratsk and don't let anyone in - then, probably, EVERYTHING is yours! Stop yaaking, you bastard!" Here they steal what they want - even children do it. It's a little better now. But at the moment I really want to get out. Even in the village "X" it's much better - despite the Chupacabra. First you need to see, what is really going on near Tulun. Enerik, the bastard, hid it from everyone - he received letters the day before leaving! He opened them, went - very kind.

About ten in the morning

I'm sitting on the porch, drinking milk, scooping it out of a bucket. We don't need sanitation as much as people do. We can eat snow. The real thing,steamed, reminiscent of a mixture of sun and chicken, distant childhood. A completely different taste - it arises when you carefully lower your lips into the glass and carefully, with your tongue, lick off the foam cap. If it stands for a day - real CREAM forms on the surface of the product. I have not seen honey here yet, which is a pity. If there were  nuclear tests - people got out of here - then there are bees here, probably the same size as the insect with a giant sting from the clown show "Pun" - "Village of Fools". There are hives in the field near Chekanovsk. I asked for another treat, having finished the aromatic liquid. There is no refusal, only a positive: "Well, did you like it?" A cool feeling satiety, and in the evening — a bathhouse. Cool! Well done, Elena Dmitrievna! It’s not for nothing that Enerik loves her so much… The rest of the day passed quietly.

The next day in the village “X” — I don’t remember what date and what day of the week!

I woke up at about nine o’clock — with a headache, a sting in my eyes: there was something bad in the air… How the hostess puts up with it all — I don’t understand! The boss was sleeping on the next cot. But it seems she is not sleeping, but lying with her eyes closed: her eyelids twitched slightly. A minute later she looks at the ceiling. I wanted to ask what year the family had been living here since, but he, as if reading my thoughts, said in a sleepy voice:

- Hello, Max. Since 1954. Her parents are from these parts. Since the time when our people weren't around here. Then they left to the construction site. When we returned with our daughter, the girl was only three years old. A little later, she became an orphan.

- Who killed them? - I became wary.

- And you don't know... Vampires: they didn't like it - people settled on the territory of people like us. They decided to fix everything. No one ever found the bodies. It could be different: the parents became Dark, they are hiding. A Light sorceress took the orphan in. The girl grew up, got married early - at about seventeen. To a werewolf, who was killed. They are interesting: they pretend to be pretty, they court... for a while! Then they either go to their relatives, or... — What, did you look at her memory? — Yegor asked, getting out of bed and getting toothpaste and a toothbrush from the shelf. The boss nodded.

— I tried, but it didn't work. Although I managed to catch something. When I touched her consciousness just a little, Lena behaved like a real madwoman. She screamed, broke dishes, rolled on the floor and drank herself unconscious with fermented wormwood tincture. A strong drug and stimulant, by the way. She had to be tied to a bed or a chair. She cried, begged to be let go, asked to drink blood.

Yes, this is the Call! It seems her parents were calling her! This should be written down in the diary. It's a good thing the girl didn't run away into the forest! I wonder how her neighbor is doing?

- Listen, Ene... Oleg, - Elena Dmitrievna knocked on the door, and Valyuk called the boss, as they say, "by passport", - you delivered a baby twenty-six years ago, right? You haven't seen your godson yet?

— I haven’t seen him, and I won’t see him, because the boy is a werewolf! He’s also a vampire! He’ll run from the Light like the devil from incense! — Suddenly Enerik — Oleg became stern. He washed himself, sat down at the table to have breakfast, clutching his head in his hands. Vitaly understood — he had touched the boss where it hurt.

An apple tree with ripe fruits — the size of a large fist — rustled near the veranda. Bright, incredibly beautiful, standing out for their warm tones among the still green foliage. Here one branch, obeying a gust of wind, lashed against the glass - several apples fell with a loud thud onto the concrete terrace. Near the bathhouse, crocuses were in full bloom, from afar they looked like giant red caps, smelling deliciously and cloyingly, planted like this - the red flowers formed a star, and the yellow ones - the background, diluting the two shades with leaves. Above this huge, furry bumblebees were circling the composition: even for the edges of the Oka they are huge - the length of their bodies is FIVE (!) centimeters! The last insects of the summer. Beautiful, but a little scary. Probably, also from our ranks. It is unclear whether it will rain today or not, since clouds have begun to gather on the horizon, although from the "X" they can use magic to disperse. These creatures are the real exceptions to the rule: wild Mages, vampires, werewolves, who have lived their entire lives in the silence and forest, and therefore are sometimes very dangerous. If you offend the Dark Ones, they will burn down your house or do something else. If you offend the Light Ones, all the offense will return with double force.

Our forest relatives have iron health, see perfectly in the dark, go hunting without any weapons - and why the hell do werewolves and vampires need them? Although everyone says that werewolves only hunt people, this is not true at all. The creature will jump on a boar, kill it, and go home. A fascinating sight: a growling, giant wolf with blue eyes drags through the village, dragging behind him the carcass of the same giant boar. The blood in your veins runs cold from this, you won’t want to sleep at night! The Light Ones prefer bows and arrows. It turns out that the X-ers have their own peculiar agreement: the Dark Ones don’t touch the Light Ones, don’t harm them, and vice versa. In times of famine, the Light Ones can slaughter the last cow for meat and give it to them. Call they send — take it! It's good and great! Maybe that's why there is no such squabbling here as in big cities... Here no one ever changes anyone, no one offends.

Today we found the key to the riddle of where Chupacabra is. In the forest. It started as usual — we decided to go mushroom picking, and Enerik stayed home.

Siberian forests are very dense. In addition, the soil in them is dry, there is a lot of windfall. Sometimes it is impossible to get through it, then I have to climb into the invisible reality, jump over thin branches, or wander around the field. There is a lot of fern, nuthatches and woodpeckers jump on the trunks of pine trees, a cuckoo calls, crows caw. There are a lot of chipmunks. It is dangerous to be here in the evening - especially at ten or eleven o'clock. Werewolves gather in the thicket and run through the forest. Squeals and howls can be heard five kilometers around. An hour later, silence falls. No one has any registration or hunting license - and never has. Riots occurred in 1954, when people tried to settle in the village. Light didn't yawn, hid the poor things. Little by little, people stopped being afraid of everything, settled in.

But even among the Dark, there were good ones, and the Light began to marry the Dark and people. To fall in love and all that stuff. Vampires can be distinguished by their very young faces - there were no old people among them. It looked like that to people strange, incomprehensible. Such a union produced children with a special set of abilities, they can easily be adopted both for the side of Good and for the side of Evil.

Suddenly, a plaintive cry was heard in the distance: a girl of about twelve, her aura glowing scarlet - fear. Lost? Not a fortune teller - but a person.


— Darling, why are you crying? Did someone hurt you? — Vitaly asked.

He is silent, does not answer.

— Are you lost?

Silence again. It was necessary to impose a false memory on the child's subconscious: then he finally calmed down and began to tell. It turned out that our Chupacabra had grown up in twenty-six years and was wandering nearby. Seeing the werewolf from afar, the teenager decided: a bear, came closer. The little animal only looked down at her with its gigantic, black oval eyes and jumped onto a thick tree branch. Good thing this thing didn't hurt the child! The creature's trail remained blurred in the invisible reality, but we didn't dare follow it. We had to lure the creature. They brought the human girl home and gave her some porcini mushrooms.

THE FOURTH OF SEPTEMBER

We are invited to visit from the neighboring street - Elena Dmitrievna recognized the child, took her to the girl's brother. For this, we are due gratitude - to spend the evening with someone. Enerik, the bastard, did not mention - we are going to the vampires! We are having fun, nothing to say! They greeted us all excellently on the first of the month: fed us, gave us something to drink, let us sleep laid down, - therefore, we must make such a conclusion - trust, but verify! Elena returned with the amulet. Gave it to the Chief. Clear: a precautionary measure.

This already smells bad! And our Celt is too trusting of the villagers, and of all of them! That's why the Dark Ones to dinner and invited. For the occasion, I took the vodka I had saved from my backpack and put it in my bag: you never know! Then, after thinking about it, I gave it to the boss. He nodded affirmatively.

- It will come in handy. What if someone doesn't like us?

- Most likely, that's how it will be... - Yegor nodded, his face darkening, - these are wild creatures! Maybe they will be smarter than us. Of course, our team is not that, everyone has their pros and cons.

I wrinkled my brow, slightly surprised: why would the youngest employee, thirteen years old, suspect me of something bad? Moscow, brotherly... He is simply afraid to go, and even very much so. In another World, his aura was glowing scarlet with a hint of violet: curiosity mixed in! Wants to be friends with the Dark Ones. No problem, we'll support you!

"Egor, don't be afraid," I squatted down and smiled, looking softly into his eyes, "everything will be fine, right?" I winked.

"True." He looked embarrassed.

— Let's eat properly in front of the guests! — Beregond suggested cheerfully. — No one knows WHAT they'll feed us! There are plenty of magicians here. Take a cast-iron pot of dumplings and eat. But you need to process them with the Force.

As soon as we sat down, a female voice was heard from the yard, almost at the door. Someone was singing with a guitar. I listened. While the singer was singing, Enerik quietly slipped behind the door. He looked at the sky. There was a flying saucer again. Well, the balance had fallen... And there were also strange tracks in the forest.

A guy with a guitar and a girl were standing in front of Oleg. The Celt's face lengthened in surprise. His jaw dropped. Looking at the stranger, I myself flinched. And there WAS a reason for that! But more on that later.

- Why didn't you tell me anything about the tracks earlier?! - He read the thoughts of those who had come. He turned his head sharply in our direction.

- Well... we decided to tell you later, so as not to spoil the mood before going to visit. - I hesitated, scooping up a portion of dumplings with a ladle, scalding my fingers with the broth. The singing irritated me: it all sounded like a female's call before mating during mating season.

"Who are you, and what do you want here?" Enerik asked, looking at the couple in surprise. "Nobody invited you here."

"You know a lot, Oleg Arensky!" the guy muttered. "Our mother lives here!"

The situation was resolved in everyone's favor. Aha... So these are Elena Dmitrievna's children!

- We remember you. As I see it now, you intend to have fun with your friends all the time! Personally, I don't like this at all! - The boy stretched his left hand forward, made a sign, crossing his fingers. How he did it is unclear. Apparently, they taught him.

Yes, our inaction is not a pleasure for someone, but for the girl - such a flighty one - yes! It seems that someone fell in love with the Celt a long time ago, and can't wait for reciprocity. That same ten-year-old girl who took him to the woman in labor. Who did NOT LOOK the way she should have at thirty-six. And at least nineteen! How she has grown... Still not married - apparently, she is sick of living in the village of Magi. Chief loved Irina like a daughter - she has nothing more to hope for.

"What do you want from me? If it's great and pure love - then go away, leave me! Compared to you, I'm an old man. A young old man, forever young. I don't want to disappoint you, child."

I'll think about this at this moment: "Youth strives to change the world, and maturity is when the world has already changed you."

— Is Elena home?

— No. She went to her neighbor's for some cottage cheese.

The young people smiled, sat on a bench in the yard and left.



- Aren't you a fool, Irina!? - The brother lamented, looking at his sister, who was crying, hunched over. - Understand finally - Oleg is not made for you! An archmage, and a Celt at that!!! They disappeared from the face of the earth! You love him - an imaginary, idealized image! That Oleg who never was and is not! You were attracted by his handsome appearance, golden curls, a pleasant voice, that's all. What he is like inside, what his character really is - you don't even know! Come to your senses! Yes, little children often become attached to adults who replace their father or mother. But it's time to move on from childhood, it's time to forget about it! How much can we talk about it?! - Alexander hugged his sister by the shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. - Don't waste yourself on nothing for twenty-six years, sister! - He combed his dark hair to his shoulders, and the unfortunate girl in response buried her face in the guy's chest. Hair came out from under the Panama hat. Whether they are forty or fifty years old, they still look like they are twenty!

— Do you remember how we came across a hut on the edge of the village where non-humans were constantly dying? When someone started investigating it, it turned out that a family of sorcerers had lived in that house for a long time. The husband died, and the wife also decided to leave, before that she cast a spell on the hut: NO ONE WILL EVER LIVE THERE! And she died that same day. And so it went: a couple of their own settled there - as if they had gone mad, they killed each other with pitchforks. Then - again... - The man tried to divert the conversation.

- Yes, Sasha, that happened. - And she hugged her brother back.

- He is handsome, that's true... But does that make all the other villagers any worse? Do you think I'm ugly? Never get emotionally attached to anyone! Never judge people by their appearance! Sometimes a beautiful appearance hides an evil chimera. You still don't seem to understand that. All the Children of the Millennia are beautiful, I don't argue. We do too. But they are completely different by nature, by intellect, not as wonderful as you think. Remember your father! There is nothing more nightmarish than the marriage of a monster and a human! Your Arensky won't tolerate you for long, you will both suffer unbearably! You will run away from him yourself... If you want such "happiness" - continue to bear it. your stupid crush! Don't beckon, don't break your eyes to him like a complete fool, but find yourself a worthy person... or just a guy... And you definitely won't be able to live in the city.

"What's wrong?" A voice rang out near them. Sasha, standing in front of his sister, stepped away from the road in fear. He looked back. Not far from their house Anna's son was coming. A fair-haired man. The same one whom Enerik had helped to give birth to. A vampire and a werewolf in one person, a seasoned womanizer - a seducer, a complete egoist.

- What do you want, Konstantin Kuskov? - Ira asked, her face having dried from tears.

- Why are you wandering around here, near our house?

- Ira, do you still love him? - The half-werewolf grinned mockingly and predatorily and looked at her cheerfully, mockingly. The woman had long since regretted her actions. Now the Most Serene Mage turns out to be the godfather of this monster!? Did Arensky really make such a blunder? It seems so.

Kuskov held an axe in his hand and came up almost right next to her.

- Where are you going with the axe?

— Chop wood! Not with the palm of your hand! Do you know why a Chinese man can break a brick with one blow of his palm? The blow technique is Eastern, but the bricks are Russian!

Sasha said nothing.

Seven o'clock in the evening. The same day. Enerik is sitting at the table, muttering something and writing. I am sitting next to him, listening with half an ear…

— When you suffer from the stuffy monotony of summer, lazy naked bodies on the beach, dull evenings reflected in a cloudy glass of tart, boring wine — and in the mornings, with boredom and dulled anticipation of such a familiar hangover, you hate yourself for the meaninglessness that life is filled with.

I will wake you up with a drop of rain, and with a cool stream I will playfully whisper in your ear how glad I am to meet you. A new acquaintance - not with a girl, but with a young woman, awakening in you a distrust of another life, completely different from yours... I will quench your thirst, tenderly kissing your tired eyes, your vicious lips, I will make you treat my trust with trepidation.You will feel my every move, all my love - an ocean into which you will dive with pleasure - escaping from the scorching heat, which you will lose - as soon as in the rain that falls from the sky, you get entangled among other drops. And, afraid of the future, you will fence yourself off from me with an umbrella.

When you silently wander along a deserted, autumnal alley, I will accidentally touch your thoughtful face tenderly with a green maple leaf, the only living one among the others, equally yellow, and you will not be able to pass by me... With my bold touch you will remember the bright colors of those good days that once were in life, and with a mad longing for their ghostly breath you will rush following me, wanting to test fate again. And even if a gust of treacherous wind throws me under a thin female heel, you will never forget the feeling of contact with an inexplicable pleasure that was so close, so irrevocably far and inaccessible…

I will descend to you from the cloudless sky as a white snowflake in the cold winter. And I will surprise you with my fragile beauty, which will make you hold your breath so as not to destroy the perfection, the airiness of forms. Causing admiration and vague hopes, returning to the forgotten past, and painfully - sweet, aching sadness will echo in my heart. When I give you the warmth of my Love, - slowly melting on your palm, - and my farewell will be as transparent, unobtrusive as a drop of dew... And with the arrival of spring, I will again remind you of myself with a sunbeam that will get tangled in your hair, and will bring a few moments of incomprehensible joy, will cause a smile. I will give you a thirst for novelty and change, cheerfully tickling your skin.

I will penetrate into the very secrets of your soul, and illuminate it with my excitingly soft, gentle light and take it with me... And you - realizing that you are losing the most valuable thing in your life - as if going crazy, will rush to catch up with me, and people, taking you for a madwoman, will step aside, making way, not seeing me. The fear of losing sight of me will make you forget about everything, rush about in a faceless crowd,to make mistakes and experience the bitterness of defeat, to restrain anger at yourself, to look again and again into the faces of passers-by. Until, in despair, you accidentally find me in bottomless, gray eyes...

So quietly, in a half-whisper and with bitterness he speaks... And I listen and wonder: WHAT IS HE DOING?! Probably, he fell in love with someone, or he suffers from loneliness. From moral loneliness: physical you can endure it, and even then with difficulty. I listen to the text, imagine everything to the music of "Enigma". Here is a clip in which a guy or a girl runs in the rays of light, breaks through the walls of love and infatuation. And transparent fragments of these hopes splash - all lies, deception, complete bullshit, for which it is not worth living! Our whole world consists of falsehood and deception - and a girl runs, just like Neo in the first part in the hall -smashing everything around, stretching out her hands with pistols forward... She smashes all the transparent walls with her fist, and magical music thunders, the Gregoriana choir echoes her, as if helping. She is dark-haired, her hair reaches her waist, she is wearing a white jacket, jeans and boots on her feet, everything around is permeated with light and other multi-colored rays... Stranger wants to warm herself in them, to find out what a real feeling is - but she can't, or doesn't want to. Either because hope has died, or she's afraid of a new puncture, or she's so angry at someone that she can't extinguish the resentment in herself. Or all this is not for her - so she breaks the crystal walls - gritting her teeth, staring into space with an icy gaze of determination, rage, but also calm - which surprisingly harmonizes... She destroys without mercy what once caused acute pain, and fragments fly in all directions. The rays of light do not go out. And she runs and runs, stretching her right hand forward, without stopping…

Music thunders, the wind or the astral whispers a name of eight letters, capital - S... Then suddenly an unforgettable picture opens. The most beautiful. The unfortunate one smiles, the world appears before her in some space - where countless stars shine, tunnels of several spheres of Other Worlds. Darkness looks at her with thousands of eyes, the stars sing with marvelous voices, the starry wind of cold calms the beauty.Which seems to be made of a shard of ice. How a star blizzard swirls around, glass dust... The Galaxy shines far away, a star blinked a couple of times. Hundreds of years have passed, tens of thousands - and still stands, admiring. Behind him are other people, another civilization. But it's too late. All this should be at the beginning, in slow motion. Space is the most beautiful thing in nature!

Often, when I left the office and closed the door, I heard the boss take a guitar out of the closet and sing. What patience, what nerves must one have to hide behind a mask of joy all these years?! How cheekily the Archmage laughed when we showed up last week! Now he is incredibly irritable, and said - either jokingly or seriously:

— I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE! TWO MILLENNIUMS ARE TIRED! I WANT to just up and die. I'm afraid — for you and Elena Dmitrievna's two children — they... I'm like a father to them! Irina, a fragile girl, — fell in love with me. Since childhood, she still can't understand — you can't do this! She doesn't want to see ANYONE except me. Do you think — she sang in vain here, casting sidelong glances at Arensky? — Enerik sighed,took out the prepared vodka, poured more into the mug from a clay jug... It's blood!

"Thick, stinking pig's blood..." I gasped, my eyes wide. The boss pushed it towards me. "Have you gone completely mad?! Why, my friend?! Are you turning into a Dark One, or is THIS how the wilderness works?! Have you lost your mind?!"

— Chupacabra is looking for us... I can feel it. It's not a mutated animal at all, but one of our own. A mage of monstrous power is walking around the village. Just imagine such a bastard?!

It seems that the Dark Ones are also moaning about this terrible mage, since they are calling the Inquisitor and the Light Mage for help? Without us, the whole village would have gathered and killed the bastard.

- Remember, Maxim: to communicate with vampires and werewolves on equal terms, you need to drink blood, like I'm doing now. Don't shy away, drink a glass, you'll hear the call of Darkness.

- What?! Better a glass of vodka!

What does he want from me?! Those who consider it their hobby to cut skin and drink their own blood for their own pleasure are deeply mistaken! It smells very bad. I remember one case - they were catching the Dark Ones, they put a bucket of blood in the corridor of the City Executive Committee - the Light Ones were vomiting. Now something is wrong with the boss: The Power of Darkness is probably at work. It's time to get down to business to cure him of this clouds. The last thing I needed was Irka - she loves him, won't give him a break - will eventually drag him to bed. Enerik poured vodka into another glass, dripped the scarlet liquid into it. The droplets intertwined in spirals - like DNA strands, freely rotating clockwise.

There is a bad aura here: the Archmage is going crazy. Maybe his adopted son is calling him? Or he wants to get into trust in other ways? For example, by getting drunk. Everyone had strange states - when moving to another city, village: the new place hits or caresses the head. The village beats the Light one, the problem with the godson. How can you not be upset - Dark! And he sensed something. The droplets lined up one after another in spirals, continued to spin in the glass. The conversation went somewhere to the left:

- Maxim, - the Celt turned to me, wincing, - do you want to know how I got my passport?

- Well, I want to... Why? - I understood: he was drunk after such a swill. I had to listen. It's good that vodka is booze. If they tried to bewitch the boss, the consequences would be devastating, terrible. The svetoch would first climb the walls, then go on a drinking spree. Then the victim who tried to bewitch him would die. Very quickly. He put his hand in his trouser pocket and put the lilac passport on the table.

— How did you get the document? Normally, without any problems. So… At first, everything was relatively good. I was intimidated by long, quarrelsome queues. So I decided to wait until they dispersed, became less quarrelsome. Finally, the day came when I said to myself: “It’s time. Today or never,” and went to the police. My queue did not fail: over the course of a year, it had managed to thin out, tired of squabbles.In short, ten minutes in the cold, five inside, and I enter the passport office. The answer to the question is “Surname”, and in another half a minute I hold the document in my hands. This is where the “adventures” began. Who among you learned to write with a pen? Aha, a forest of hands. Which means you were born, at least, before the sixties. Correct me if I’m wrong. (There are two of us in the hut!!!) But I belong to the generation that learned to write with a pen didn't write (!!!), and if it did, it forgot how to do it. However, a nice girl handed me exactly that: "Sign here." I dashingly signed it, took the passport: "Thank you," and went out into the corridor. There, glancing at my own autograph, I realized: the decision to close the passport and put it in my pocket was premature. The ink hadn't dried. The drying process needed to be accelerated, I began waving it a burgundy booklet. It never even occurred to me — that’s how blots appear! The signature blurred slightly, and, dejected by the result, I left the passport alone. The ink, however, refused to dry. Then I decided… well, guess what might come to mind? That’s right: I OS — TO — MUZ — NO BLEW on the signature. For the next five seconds, I watched in amazement as my autograph took root: down two streams flowed. Finally, the signature dried. At the bus stop, I opened my passport again and admired it. It turned out to be a nice autograph. It was a hieroglyph, and nothing else. Of course, I couldn’t reproduce the signature later, and why would I?

After hearing this, I threw my head back and burst out laughing. I looked cheerfully at my boss and best friend. His cheeks were slightly flushed: he'd had too much!

- Don't drink too much!

- Okay, you've convinced me. Now, Maxim, drink. Please. If you feel too sick, have some bread with it. At least no one will touch you.

I'm not going to do anything!

— Stop shying away! Drink up, I ORDER!

I silently took the glass and took a breath. I spat on the floor, my stomach was cramping, bent in half. A cough escaped my chest. Ugh! How disgusting! The Celt started slapping me on the back. Beregond was reading poetry behind the wall. As always.

And suddenly, — through the astral, — I heard the following: “You have everything you need, but you do not use it. Because you are not like them. These people… whom even the cover of night cannot catch unawares. They have their own light even in the darkness, but they do not see it. You try to give everything so as not to see the same, but it does not work. Your light is the light of the moon, the flame of a dying candle… There is a soft bed,warming you on a cold winter night, but you don’t accept that either. The bed is a desk. Friends are books that surround you. Dreams are thoughts, because they are magical and don’t belong to this world. You are not even a part of the Universe. You are invisible and unimportant, just as thoughts and actions are invisible and unimportant.” And it was silent.

Something spoke up in me, woke up, as if ancient singers were playing their flutes. But you must never listen to the enchanting sounds, otherwise you will step unnoticed into the abyss, and then there is no salvation. So this is what you are like, the voice of Darkness! Insidious, bewitching, uncontrollable! No, I will not give in so easily! But I must go visit…

Eight o'clock in the evening (if you believe your intuition, the clock still isn't ticking)

After taking the "cocktail" the circles in front of your eyes stopped spinning. You feel like you're drunk: you're swaying, tears are streaming from your eyes. A completely idiotic smile is shining on your lips. You go out with everyone else. You look around. A man is chopping wood near a frail hut. A vampire. Nearby, on a bench under the rowan tree - another one, about twenty-six years old - also a bloodsucker. Plays an acoustic guitar, sings. Original! The song is perfectly suited to the state of depression. He quietly touched consciousness, understood: the mournful sadness was not born out of nowhere. His beloved went into the forest, did not return. Then - two days later - they found clothes and a pile of ashes.

Another song came to mind - by the band "Agatha Christie".

Now it's clear who killed the vampire for no reason. Chupacabra! She doesn't give a damn who's in front of her.

The guitarist looked at us warily, extended his hand, and smiled:

- You have an amulet on your neck. Give it to me.

- I am unarmed, I have no amulets. - I said.

- But I do. - The chief responded calmly, taking the claw off his neck and throwing it to the singer. He caught it automatically.

- Excellent! Come into our house, Luminaries.

And he himself continued singing. Then the guitar strummed plaintively, everything went quiet. That's how a puppy whines behind the toilet door when he's being punished for knocking over a trash can or peeing on the carpet. This Dark One probably visits the city with the help of the Portal - since he knows city songs. It seems that the creature is not vindictive. But no matter how he hides himself, I see everything... I will see it until the action blood and vodka will not stop. Only the Archmage remained on the street. He was silent, silent, then asked:

- Did the legendary Chupacabra torture you too?

- Exactly. - The singer nodded. The second one continued chopping wood. - We invited you all to thank you for saving my sister from death. My beloved died. You know who her…

tore... The damn scum: she, or he, - appears when a UFO flutters over our village. At the same time, an unbearable smell of sulfur appears. The recoil of all our relatives shakes the area. If one of us dies - the situation becomes nasty: Dark mad. It's all sickening, at night and during the day animals jump around the gardens, similar to dinosaurs with blue eyes, these creatures constantly digging up seeds and fruits from the gardens. I've tried everything - it's useless! And you can't poison them in any way!

- Luminaries, - the guy who was chopping wood finally asked, - have you noticed? There are no children here in the village? They were last seen in 1980. As if they had died out!

Are dinosaurs really those same children?! A shiver ran down my spine the frost from such a hypothesis. I stood on the porch, looking around: you never know what might happen.

- Are you scared, Svetly? There are things happening right under your nose that you don’t even suspect! - With these words, the vampire dug the ground with a shovel, dug in it with his hands and pulled out a giant earthworm. I winced. Yegor almost fainted, he was almost didn't throw up, poor thing... He covered its eyes with his palm. The worm was slippery, desperately trying to break free, wriggling. Transparent mucus dripped from the young ghoul's fingers in threads... And the man swung, threw the miracle of nature onto the birch, laughing loudly.

"Why did you do that?" asked the one chopping wood. "Couldn't you eat it alive? Oh, it's embarrassing in front of the guests!"

In another case - in times of famine - a wonderful substitute for blood. The miracle of nature continued to wriggle on the trunk of the birch. It looked very wild. Imagine: a beauty - a birch with golden leaves stands, plus this worm, which has twined around the trunk, just like in the Garden of Eden. A real bright illustration to the biblical story: modern Heaven and Hell on the Tree of Knowledge. Only for some reason the action takes place in our days.

- We want to discuss a common topic, Light Ones: how to get rid of the Chupacabra from here, which keeps everyone in fear. It is impossible to fight it.

- Has it started long ago? - Yegor asked, staring at the tree.

— In 1986, a UFO fell here — not far from the village. They had fallen before, but since that incident, they kept falling. And it all started: first, mutant animals began to appear. Where exactly did the saucer fall — into a swamp or a river? It’s unknown. The non-humans all seemed to have gone mad. Six years later, an incomprehensible creature began to appear in the forest wandering around — they called him Chupacabra. One Dark One here got the same name — very nasty and evil.

— They named him after the creature?

— Yes. — The vampire answered, stacking firewood near the wall of the bathhouse. — UFOs have been falling here very often lately. The more, the worse for everyone. No one has managed to catch the scum yet. Maybe it’s not one of ours at all.

- A mutant.

- Yes and no. That's the horror! Nature here is contaminated, radiation rarely affects us. Or doesn't affect us at all. About the killer. This filth used to be a man, and then someone just took him and bit him.

- Most likely so. - The second vampire nodded. - Okay, let's go into the house!

The house of two vampires inside was no different from the everyday life of a human dwelling. A quiet breeze rustled the pages of a book by the open window, the walls were covered with wallpaper with small flowers, a piano by the wall in a large room, a light bulb on the ceiling was barely lit. The table was set: a white tablecloth, snacks, juices, salads, meat of all kinds of preparation - and most importantly: not a drop of alcohol! I glanced sideways at the chef,feeling: in vain he underestimated and screwed up, and he smiled, remembering the hidden vodka. But it seems that it will not be needed now: The Dark Ones are quite friendly. Maybe that's why each of us drank a shot, including Yegor?

The black-haired guitarist sat down at the table, snapped his fingers to turn off the light bulb, pulled a candle closer to him, and struck a match. The unnatural whiteness of his skin and long, sharp fangs immediately caught the eye when he smiled or smirked.

"Where's the girl?" Enerik asked, looking at him from under his brows.

- Sleeping. I made sure she didn't see WHAT her brother turned into two years ago. I was an ordinary person, dreaming of studying. But there is no way out of here. Someone got scared - I can tell everyone in town about it. I was about twenty then. Now twenty-two is a completely insignificant, disgusting age, when all the nonsense is blown out of your head.

Outside the window the wind rose, tearing leaves from the trees. It began to rain - apparently the Dark Ones had brought clouds with magic so that we would not leave. Or were the two masters shamanizing so that no one would pass? Traces of large drops appeared on the ground. It smelled fresh. This was to be expected. Then something happened that even the chief did not expect:

— E N E R I K, don’t try to hide under a false name anymore, you can’t hide anything from us! Don’t you respect us, if you took a pseudonym? It’s offensive to everyone — like a knife to the heart. Throw away your fake passport and stop lying, posing as Oleg Arensky! Elena and other people willingly believe this heresy, but not us! Please don’t consider the Dark Ones to be suckers and idiots! Similar to those who roams around your Dark Bratsk and other cities! We are a different people, we never have any fairy tales between Light and Darkness, there are no prohibitions, hunting permits, no way out of this wilderness... None of us can live in cities. We are Wild Creatures, as we are sometimes called. Personally, I am not a savage, and we are not aborigines, and our intellect is much higher than that of city dwellers. Since some - like the Chupacabra - never heard of any rules of conduct, but sometimes they do such things that it makes you sick. Sabbaths, for example. But we disperse them. Usually the village council does not spare such people. Under conventions - if the creature does not re-educate, does not look at the world around him with different eyes. The name of our village, its existence were forgotten back in the thirties of the last century. We rarely hunt people - on animals, so that we can eat ourselves and feed the Light Ones. There is a fantastic amount of game here over the past seventy years. I am also a werewolf. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Konstantin Alushkin.

- Konstantin... It is very nice to meet you! - Beregond, who was sitting next to him, shook the Dark One's hand. Without any doubt - he doesn't lie. - How old is the village? How did it become "X"? Since what year has it been full - full of people like us all?

The vampire first looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, took a sip of blood from the glass, and turned to me:


— MAXIM, INQUISITION EMPLOYEE (I raised my eyebrows in amazement: he reads my mind!), I WOULD REALLY NOT WANT ANYONE ELSE TO KNOW ABOUT OUR VILLAGE! Okay, I'll tell you the true story of this backwoods, without discarding anything. And in return you'll promise me that you won't tell anyone anything...

— I swear...

— So, I'll begin.

"HISTORY OF VILLAGE "X" AND WHAT WAS THE REASON FOR ITS APPEARANCE

Now it is a thirty-kilometer zone.

At the beginning of the seventeenth year there was a village of Red Army soldiers, and now there is desolation all around. In general, - if cars are driving nearby, then the drivers, as if on command, go around the place hidden by the forest, through which you can't get through. The people themselves can't do anything from afar see — the village is under the power of Nature and Darkness. They feel an incomprehensible excitement and try to rush as fast as possible. There is another reason — the earth is emitting radiation.

It all started like this. In 1934, UFOs began to appear. People who had never seen anything like it, went and shot down the miracle of technology with a rocket. The plate crashed into the forest, leaving behind the most a real nuclear explosion. Which could be heard six kilometers from the site of the disaster. That's where it all started. Where the devices came from in the wilderness is unclear. The surviving witnesses of this tragedy told the magicians about what happened... Half of them died of radiation sickness. Many developed a nuclear tan, they died in terrible agony two weeks later. People who miraculously weren't irradiated,continued to live as if nothing had happened. This went on until the war began. The men went to the front, the women and children remained in the village. Under the influence of radiation, the structure of the blood began to change, the people began to be mown down by disease again. Suddenly, salvation came: a geologist by origin knocked on someone's door German. He announced that he knew a cure for an unknown illness. He bit the owner, and the owner bit his own. The rest of the residents, not knowing about this, began to visit the mysterious "doctor" in crowds. And when one of the then few Dark and Light realized what was really going on, he went and killed the initiator.

Those who managed to remain human, called the neighboring settlement by telegraph and announced that it was no longer possible to live there. An order soon came from the village of Oyok and Irkutsk: evacuate everyone. But some refused to leave their native places of residence and stayed to live. Vampirism began. The deserted village stood almost "empty" throughout the war, but the vampires lived happily here. Developing their abilities, cast protective spells so that no one else could get here. Ever since the first UFO sighting, the village was removed from the map, citing that it had been burned. Many looked for it, but no one returned.

It turns out to be a strange paradox: nuclear energy was discovered only in the fifties! And nuclear tests in the form of UFO falls began twenty years earlier, and right here! They were sometimes shot down by missiles, without understanding what was happening.

“Back then, in the early thirties, we lived like in paradise,” a contemporary of those events told me. In the Soviet Union, life here was better than in other areas. There were a lot of children - seven or eight in almost every family. They worked in the gardens, helped. Wealth, favorite work, everyone loved each other, everyone was a colleague. The population of the village was fifty thousand. Now - three thousand of their own - ours - and ten person. Interestingly, the tragedy happened on May 1st. That's when the Red Army shot down the saucer. They said that strange creatures with huge, oval, black eyes wandered around at night, their limbs were thin, their fingers were tenacious and long. The gender was not determined. Gray skin, no hair at all on the head. Whether it was just the explosion or not is unknown. After the visit people were thinking about where to run away from the bloodsucker German. The water was contaminated with radiation, the food was contaminated too, and the disease was only getting worse. But until recently they had found some supplies in the village, tin cans… Well, everything started to rot. It was the night from Saturday to Sunday. Only one person died during the explosion: the explosion he was thrown from the turret, broke his neck. The first victim of the village "X". Some saw a distant flash, like a mushroom.

Several fishermen were setting nets at that time. As they said, on the way home they began to have very strange hallucinations: THEY ARE CROSSING THE RAILS! And it seems to them in addition - these are barriers, you have to lift your legs very high,to step over. Other glitches... Probably, because of a very strong emission, radiation can act like that at first. Many people told about a change in consciousness in the zone. Initially, only vampires lived here. Light ones, werewolves began to appear here when engineers and scientists flooded Siberia and the Angara. In the fifties. The outcasts found out about the village, perhaps by the Call.

They came to profit: an incredible number of animals had bred in the deserted lands. There were few vampires left then: half had died. When they began to build the Bratsk hydroelectric power station, when those strange Headquarters arose, the Dark Ones fled from the new city into the forests and fields. So they gradually settled. But among the local residents there were Light Ones. There were five or six people in the village. They found a common language with werewolves, vampires. Why did our brothers kill Elena Dmitrievna's parents? They were scared: they would give everyone away.

It's understandable. Nature, from which man disappeared, began to greedily and swiftly destroy the works of his hands, and treats them just as recklessly - as people who did not want to expect mercy from her, treated her. Force - against force, no offense. Here it is stormy, magnificent the earth blossoms, the grass grows, a huge fish splashes in the Oka: if you throw a loaf, the funnel of a catfish's mouth opens up, the round bread disappears into it entirely. Everything is covered with fogs, astral. It is so powerful here - it is not difficult for any of us to settle there for at least a year. Even though I am a vampire, I feel sorry for people. All the local residents
— stalkers, squatters. Wild. Creatures that fled Bratsk when it was being built. Mostly mages — shapeshifters and Dark Ones. They live in isolation."

The vampire fell silent. Yes... A scary story connected with a geologist and radiation.

"Enerik," I quietly touched the chief on the shoulder, "did you know the history of the village?

His eyes widened in surprise.

- First time I've heard of it! A nice plot: once upon a time there were people, then a UFO falls on their heads, with all the ensuing consequences, vampires appear, everyone is in mortal danger, the village is abandoned, and then... then…

Konstantin Alushkin, as it turns out, lives like an ordinary person. He catches fish for the Light Ones, and the entire local population dries it to eat later. “Ours is somehow stronger, denser, the rest already seems sluggish.” He says. And he himself is nothing special: young, strong, with a second-level Strength. A good, kind nonhuman. In the house everything is clean and tidy, there are flowers. It is still raining. It is already about eleven o'clock in the evening. It is not scary at all. There are two cats in the house, they love their owner. You can contact Kostya and ask for help.

- There are no people around, and it is still unknown what kind of evil spirits are in the forests: evil spirits are born not only from radiation - they can appear simply because there are no people left here. — Added the second one, who came in right after it started to drizzle.

Everyone burst out laughing at Alexander's words. And one more thing: the first thing that caught my eye in the hut and on the door were the handles, nailed down about twenty centimeters from the ground.

— So that you can open them yourself when you are in wolf form?

— Yes. If you want to run home at night.

There was nothing strange about this, only Yegor was surprised, still not having recovered from the story about the village. He was wolfing down the salad. And the aroma of boiled pork floated around the room — wow, they took care of that! I thought — there would be only raw meat on the table! And glasses with blood. But then everything is different. I already told you on the previous pages - our people help each other out here. The hosts were very polite, Yegor and Beregond ate diligently, and the chef and I asked questions. The darkness outside the window did not seem so menacing.

After all, this is a special world, there is no noise or cars, and almost no people. Even the most remote villages do not have such an atmosphere. This may be for the best - the forest of the goal, an oasis of solitude will appear. Everything grows very wildly.

- I have never seen such butterflies as here anywhere! - Alexander boasts. - Wait, I will show you how I came up with the idea to catch them. A net…

This net was in its irrational expediency somewhat akin to door handles at the very ground: Kostya and Sanya came up with a circle of large diameter, covered with gauze. It flies in flight, like the famous plastic children's plate. Silently, slightly rotating, it covers the insect.

- I'll show you tomorrow! And more than that...

- But now there are few butterflies!


- Why?

- Kostya, don't...

Kostya rushed into the entryway, thundered there for a long time, returned grumbling:

- Nothing can be left, nothing! - He drank blood from a glass. In the end, I was afraid for him, even Enerik calmed down... it's dangerous to approach an angry vampire. Nothing hurts. It's as if a person is sitting in front of you. But this can't go on for long. The Dark Ones turned out to be kind, and I thought otherwise.

It must have already struck one o'clock in the morning, and it was time to go home. We were called again, and Kostya even gave me a friendly hug.

- Call us if anyone offends you.

Enerik - Oleg hung up the Portal - it's still raining.

Two days later

The chief had not slept all night: he was making a trap for a raid. According to his calculations, the victim would not be able to escape. If any nasty things appeared in the next few days, the vampires would help.

The forest rustled menacingly. The tops of the pine trees swayed menacingly from side to side in the wind. As if they were saying: no need! Need, need! Needcatch this crap, otherwise who knows what will happen next! Here's your vacation! In a village filled with paranormal phenomena. In a village that has no name, where higher beings live, never at odds with each other.

 Where unidentified flying objects fly, where there is no MAN. WHERE POWER REIGNS. Where everything is simply CRAP. That's what Siberia is like! Fantastic things always happen here. It's very hard to live in these parts. At night we heard a heartbreaking howl. Chupacabra must have pinched its tail.

September 8th. Very early morning. Somewhere in the forest

I wrap myself tighter in my leather jacket, but it's still cold. despite two sweaters. The fog is so thick - you can feel it on your face. White as milk, and frogs and toads, of which there are many, are jumping in it. For some reason, the amphibians have tails - with black,
large, oval eyes - like humanoids, their skulls incredibly flattened, and their skin completely smooth and blue.

They were gigantic - and the longer I and the two vampires went into the forest, the larger and larger these creatures became. True, sometimes there were small ones. They croaked hoarsely, on their backs towered scarlet combs, and eight toes on their paws. Now that's something you can hold in your hand, getting a sharp, unforgettable feeling! Frogs of a similar size to these are also found in America, and weigh two to three kilograms. But it seems we've overtaken America. They are much bigger! I looked at the mutants through the astral plane - ordinary animals.

Suddenly, two werewolves rushed forward, hiding in the thickets of tall ferns, transforming into wolves right in their clothes. Why is that? Everything here is gigantic - starting with the strawberry trees. As if time had turned back a hundred million years. Probably, in the "X" zone the only normal-sized animals are bugs and cockroaches - the only animals capable of surviving in the epicenter of a nuclear explosion. In the near future, a fern here will be as tall as a pine tree - trees and grasses actively absorb radiation, sometimes literally replacing water and sunlight. Underfoot in the dust midges, cockroaches and other creatures are swarming about. A giant moth sits on a pine tree, spreading its wings.

Indeed, you won't find SUCH insects anywhere else on the planet! Kostya was right. The fog thickened, and eventually visibility began to approach zero. I had to look through invisible world. Water had been squelching in my boots for a long time, and my jeans were soaked with dew. I took a small bottle of cognac out of my pocket, unscrewed the cap and took a couple of sips. Warmth immediately spread through my body. I wonder how much longer I have to walk? After all, I can hardly see anything! Even through astral projections. What awaits me?

And then, from the white haze, an image of something oval, like a giant oyster, began to slowly emerge. The "oyster" stood vertically, half dug into the ground, and had the following dimensions: five meters high and a meter wide. The body of the dead flying saucer was covered with rotten leaves mixed with moss and snails, which slowly crawled up and down, leaving a slimy trail behind them. The snails were also gigantic. Like Achatina, but even larger. There were many burrows dug around. Well, that's it…

I had to remember this place. I couldn't stand there for long. I called Kostya. He responded with a wave, looked at the "shell", and wagged his tail. Then a long howl came from somewhere. It was Alexander who had found something. Kostya found it difficult to speak:

- Yy - a t - there ours - was walking...

- What did you find?

— K — k gnagot i sh — shersti klokg, and part of… — he clicked his teeth. — Near the kk — apgkan.

— Lead! — I ordered.

What I saw shocked even me. The trap was broken, several teeth were broken off completely and bent, and the iron was twisted in an incomprehensible way. Fresh blood. Apparently, the creature was torn, wanted to live - leaving us with a tuft of fur and a huge tooth, torn out by the roots. Broken off in the middle, as if it had been split lengthwise. It was about the size of the claw that hangs on the chain of Chief Enerik. Turning the trophy in my hands, I caught the sensations as if I had found the tooth of a monstrous karkhadon - a thirty-five-meter-long shark that lived in the Mesozoic and Cenozoic periods. Such a creature has teeth fifteen centimeters long and five centimeters wide. It is monstrously difficult to imagine the force of its bite.

But now we are talking about something else. Something like a claw was sticking out of the nearest larch trunk. I roughly estimated how long it was,gasped: twenty-five centimeters! What size should the creature be then?! Seven meters tall?! This is only possible for shapeshifting magicians and in the astral plane on the first level. The chupacabra tried to escape for a long time, and left us a claw. It tore the bark. A powerful beast! Even a spell couldn't stop it! It turns out that the magician is a werewolf monstrous power. But if it turns out to be Anna's son, then the end of the world will definitely come. Apparently, the creature challenges powerful magicians to a duel, and, having won, devours the opponent. I wonder if there used to be scum in these parts? I need to ask the boss. And we'll ask right now! I concentrated, switched to mental speech.

"Maxim? Go to sleep." he responded.

"I'm not home."

"Where are you at such an early hour? In the garden or going to get water?" - It looks like Enerik decided to joke.

"I'm checking your trap in the forest."

"Ah - ah... What kind of trap?"

"Ener, wake up! That trap you've been screwing together for two days!"

"So what? The creature got caught and died?"

"No. It's much worse. It broke free and ran off somewhere. Catching it with normal means is useless. This evil spirit crushed your creation as if it were an empty beer can. And it left. Now I'll bring you a claw, fur, teeth. You'll have a look. And also see who in the village has knocked out teeth."

And he thought to himself: "It's not nice to look anyone in the mouth!"

Now the boss is silent: disappointed. Apparently, he did not expect such a turn of events.

"Arensky, what kind of spell did you cast on the trap?" - I did not calm down.

"You've knocked me down: to escape from the spell of the Celts (!) - you have to BE ABLE! And even run away at the same time! When the trap slams shut, the victim dies instantly! Or at best does not twitch. What the…one that even THIS doesn't work on?! Okay, I'll walk around the village and see the magical potential of everyone, even people and old people. Indeed, the creatures here are wild - prehistoric! The longer they live here, the more invulnerable they become."

"You..." I began.

 "Okay. I'm definitely not going to sleep now because of your tricks and conclusions, I'm going to go brush my teeth. Run home!"

"The boss is unhappy," I said, lowering my head. "Very unhappy... He's going to eat me up! And grind me up. He's going to check EVERYONE for knocked-out teeth. Anyone he finds with a torn-out fang can be killed without further ado.


Looks like it's time to call someone from the city. Illyo, for example - last time this guy managed to dig up the genealogy of the Chameleon - which means he'll deal with the Chupacabra too. No - this goat has a black, vile stain on his soul, and it's growing. His manners are stupid, completely idiotic. He can leave home for no reason at all, not give any news of himself for weeks, abandon someone and constantly spend time with friends, while humiliating those who love and care for him. There is a way out of this situation - to set everything on fire, but the creatures will go somewhere else - to the Iya River, for example, they will build another village, having first torn the mutant degenerate to shreds.

The sun was rising in the nuclear skies. Okay, let's go with the boss and two vampires to dry crackers.


September 9th. Morning

What a miracle: RADIO is singing far away! And this is under conditions when all the equipment is not working! But it’s too early to rejoice — it turned out later: it works on batteries, everything is connected to a cable on a pole, and there’s a loudspeaker at the very top. Probably, someone got the necessary part with the help of the Portal. “Nashe Radio” is screaming: “Beware fakes! And we have different music" - and so on. The silence of the morning was torn apart like this. At first, no one really understood what exactly had happened. When it dawned on them, everyone rushed to the yard where the song was coming from. It was clearly not going to be possible to listen to the silence for the next twenty minutes. They had fun until twelve, then everything went quiet.

- Oh-oh... - was all Enerik could squeeze out when I put the find in front of him. - She broke her teeth on us, that should be more than enough for her. Now we'll be looking all over the village for a guy or a woman whose nails and teeth were pulled out. It wasn't for nothing that you were drawn to the forest, Maxim! Oh, it wasn't for nothing!

— Not only me: Kostya and Sasha too.

— That makes me happy.

— It seems you’re actually thinking about something else. — I said quietly.

— Yes. I remembered holding little Irina in my arms when she was ten, whispering moral lessons into her ear… A little girl, so tender and beautiful… In a dress with roses, with abrasions on her elbows,knees, and sandals on her feet. That golden hair, those big eyes… I’ll never see Ira like that again. Yes, she fell in love with me like a father, she wasn’t just attached to my affection. She was taken in by my appearance, what a pity! My real father was always going into the forest and disappearing for months. Elena herself was looking for love on the side, all her romances were too short. True, she never got to bed. I felt sorry for my mother, a widow with two children in her arms, and began to take care of the family. I fell in love with this human family with all my heart, and gave advice when necessary for all occasions. Outwardly, the hostess has hardly changed, only her gray hair bothers her. Especially the little girl became attached, was jealous of everyone and did not allow any female person into the house. When it was time to leave after Anna gave birth to the Dark One, the little one threw a real tantrum. Then we went for a walk in the forest, the little one got tired and eventually fell asleep in my arms. And the Light Celt whispered in her ear:


"Everything secret will someday become clear,

And the long forgotten will be remembered.

Someday you will become equal among equals,

And, having seen the light, you will not say that it is dark.

Someday you will grow up, baby,

Your naivety and sadness will pass.

But do not forget that it is too much to become an adult,

Believe me, you will be sorry.

Years will pass, you will change your mind

About what you admire now.

Believe me, baby, do you believe me?

Someday this hour will come.

While you are still so small, my baby,

You dream of being a princess at the ball.

You are sad about being so small, silly,

And you think that life has gone to the bottom.

How naive your grievances sound,

When you stamp your foot, pouting.

Oh, these childish whims of yours,

Believe me, my dear, they will pass someday.

You will grow up, and your laughter is a bell,

I will lose, maybe forever, my child.

And you will no longer have a boy,

And of course, I will not be with you.

Stay a little bit more like a child, little one,

Let me be with you.

And promise me that when you grow up a little more...

Promise me... your mother... me... not to forget"...

With these words, Enerik got up from the table and picked up a juniper comb. He began to tidy up his locks. He sighed heavily. It was clear what was going on in his exhausted soul. He combed his hair, put the comb on the windowsill where the sun's rays fell, and the aroma of resin spread through the house, so strong, -got a headache. When they were washing in the bathhouse, the boss left him near the stove, everyone howled from the headache. They asked "Oleg Arensky" to remove the trinket. He, having washed his hair and combed it, removed it. That's why now the Celt's golden locks smell worse than from shampoo!

— I don't feel well, Maxim... I don't feel well. I feel agitation from the outside. And you?

— Are you worried about the Dark Ones?

— I'm not worried about them at all, but about the threat coming from these places. Something is wrong here, as we assumed. The threat is growing in my mind. I'll find this bastard and tear him apart without a word!

— Forgive me, Enerik, but what if this... what if this... is your godson?

He looked at me first with amazement, then his eyes flashed madly. It seemed that this was exactly how he had been in his distant youth.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of!" the Celt started to shout, but calmed down immediately. "Now many consider me a hero. The same Irina (he pointed at the woman who was running along the road with an empty bucket). But she, the silly girl, doesn't understand at all - it's not like that at all!I have no time for caresses and giggles. In order to reach the heights of my soul, I had to endure terrible humiliations and torments on my own skin all these years. No need to exalt me to the skies: I am a simple man who is also able to drink and smoke a little. But with a difference - my body is very old: twenty centuries old, and at the same time young. How at a nineteen-year-old - twenty-five years old in appearance.

The body of the golden-haired one has long lived its human life, and he became the Great Light. It is difficult to believe at first glance - in front of you sits a LIVING monument of history. Anyone will say: an eighteen-year-old guy is a model who needs to go crazy and spit. A rake, a party animal and a blockhead. The boss twirled the Chupacabra claw in his hands. He took off the amulet from his neck, with which he performed a Caesarean on Anna. Compared: one black, the other white. Both curved.

- Handsome...

I remembered how cruelly I laughed at the handsome guy when I first came to the brotherly Headquarters. "Holy cow! What a thing to appoint a kid as boss! And what a thing! The office will quickly fall apart with people like that! I wonder,this brat can use powerful magic in battle? Hardly." He acted very selfishly, because the Archmage read my thoughts. He laughed, and then beckoned the Inquisitor to him, shook his hand, and greeted him. "Well, now you'll be serving in Siberia." And, opening the cabinet, he handed me the disk. "Go to the analytical department,the information will be very interesting, surprising. Then we'll talk. March to the second floor!"

Well, I ran, headlong. I thought - there was crap written there. Two hours later I returned with a white face, amazement in my eyes, and not a small one. The first thing I did was to feel with my fingers, stroke the boss's face, hands, especially cheeks - to make sure 
in the information: TWENTY centuries! And not a single scar! Delicate, thin, graceful, smooth face. No pimples, wrinkles, only the eyes are unnaturally adult. Exactly the same in appearance as modern eighteen-year-olds who lead a healthy lifestyle at their age, but much more beautiful. The "brat" turned out to be a mature man from a Celtic tribe that ceased to exist almost fourteen centuries ago! I whistled in amazement, rejoiced for the city of Bratsk: wow, they dug up the Great One! The Child of the Millennia! I wonder where the Siberians found him? Did this Enerik really come with engineers to build a great one for the whole world Hydroelectric power station?! That's exactly how it was, although it was hard to believe, it just didn't fit in my head... I shouldn't have called him names!

Indeed, you shouldn't always believe your eyes. At the interview, the "young man" with adult eyes explained to me how to behave in the office, he spoke beautifully, sometimes inserting the words from a dead language. "Wait, Maxim, when you see the true face of the Light of the city - you may be disappointed" ... So the boss became my best friend, and when he found out - I am the Inquisitor - he was very happy. And now he sits by the window blacker than a cloud, looking at the street with such sorrow, as if the whole world sank to the bottom of an incomprehensible abyss.

- Well, there again UFOs are flying over the Oka.

Two flying saucers were slowly hovering over the river. First one sank into the water, then the other. Not very big, but not small either.

“Even unidentified objects can think…” the Celt whispered. “Thank you, Maxim, for being here.”

I went into the room, got out my backpack and jacket.

“Where are you going?”

— I wanted to go to the forest for cranberries... I also wanted to check if someone had started up again. Otherwise, there would be more problems.

— Yeah... Well, go.



Postgraduate student V. P. Kobets of BrII discovered a fundamentally new phenomenon. It turned out that in the areas of large enterprises of BrAZ and BLPK there are gradients of the Earth's electric field. This is a factor that is more significant in ecological terms than all emissions. Human blood is a biopolymer. And the gradient affects it, changes many characteristics of blood. This field is expanding every year. In relation to BrAZ - it started with one kilometer, grew to several.

A multi-ton meteorite was discovered in Krasnoyarsk Krai. Scientists believe that it is a fragment of the Tunguska meteorite, although it is six hundred kilometers from the place of its fall. Perhaps the lake near Sedanovo was formed by the same fragment.

The Bratsk Reservoir is a huge pond that constantly needs to be “stocked” (yeah, and what did you think? The forest at the bottom is rotting, everything is dying). Five species of fish have already been lost: taimen, tench, Angara grayling, sterlet and a whole range of whitefish (fishermen on the Angara called all these species “red fish”). This happened because of changes in the regime: running water was replaced by dirty stagnant water. Eight species are on the verge of extinction... In order to prevent this process, the Bratsk fish factory was built, where resources for fish breeding are restored and replaced: Yenisei sturgeon, Baikal omul, pike, rainbow trout, etc. For complete restoration, it is necessary to release sixty million grown-up young fish per year. But there are not enough ponds for growing them.

In the Siberian taiga, the species composition of trees is changing. Due to the fact that pine trees have been cut down by eighty percent, now larch predominates among coniferous trees, and logging areas are being renewed with deciduous trees. Since the food supply for fur animals is changing - the number of squirrels and sables has significantly decreased. The number of wolves is growing.

September 10th. The radio is no longer singing. I'm sitting in the attic and looking through binoculars, watching. What a wonder?!

Really, what a wonder, huh?! Let me explain.

…Noon. Indian summer has begun.

The boss cut a few asters from the flowerbed, tied them with a red ribbon and went somewhere. I watched from the attic, I couldn’t believe my eyes: POWER MAN WENT ON A DATE?! It’s understandable – Elena Dmitrievna’s children don’t live with their mother. Or maybe he went to see some old friends? Is he having fun with himself? This happens to loners. Oddly enough, they find pleasure in it. Buying or growing for themselves flowers. He can suppress his base desires and endure, gritting his teeth. Or he will go crazy now, or withdraw into himself. Maybe he wants to rein someone in? That's why I quietly went out into the yard, climbed into the World of Shadows and followed, and in the evening I wrote down what I saw in a notebook. It's not nice to spy, but here's what happened.

Our handsome Celt walked quietly and calmly through the courtyards, listening to the slightest rustle. He's not afraid of anything, really! He walks as if he's been hooked by the vampire's Call! One vampire won't be enough for our Enerik: you need at least a hundred of them, and their magic is something fantastic! But fantasy has lost its meaning at the moment: it has been replaced by a formula that people have known since they were in diapers. Love. But if not... I'll explain later.

Exactly love, and nothing else. Many believe that a real feeling does not just arise by itself: it gradually grows, starting with mutual interest, ordinary friendship. Growing into something more, feeding not at all on naive infatuation. Infatuation, as a rule, is destroyed by everyday life. The embryo feeds Love is not about sex and vulgarity, but about all the highest thoughts and spiritual principles. Anyone who thinks like that is doing the right thing. It all started for the boss twenty-seven years ago. He saw a little, defenseless girl with golden hair, the daughter of a widow with a living husband. He felt sorry for her and fell in love with her as if she were his own daughter. He left the village. The girl grew up in love with the strongest Light City of Bratsk -turning down all the guys in the area, never going on dates. Thinking: if she gets involved with someone, she will betray her lover. And now her hair is dark. Not golden. The teenage girl did not understand how deeply mistaken she really was! Irina turned out to be completely different from everyone else. Obsessed with Oleg Arensky, she did not see or notice anything around her.

The mother, perfectly understanding her daughter's state, scolded her, trying to bring her to reason, even beat her. Locked her in. USELESS... That's what I read in Enerik's thoughts. His aura turned pink with a hint of lilac. Isn't he an idiot, huh?! I knew the real reason for such behavior, so I became afraid for my friend. But he still won't listen to anyone.

There is nothing special in the astral plane - just a flat surface. Instead of the sun - a red cloud. The archmage looked like this: all in shreds of clothing, imprisoned in a shining cocoon. Something like a halo shone above his head. He could not see me, only feel me... Then he turned around sharply, as if something had pricked him, and shouted:

- Who's there? Speak!

I closed myself off from the boss. What does a Celt expect when he falls in love?! Yes, there will be reciprocity. Another question is when will he come to his senses from all this?! I really hope - the golden-haired man understands the absurdity of the situation with the woman. Or has he completely lost his mind? After all the events?! Here we entered the forest. We need to get out - I'm very tired. I fell into my own shadow with difficulty and jumped further. The colors disappeared.The sun disappeared. Everything became black and white. It became easier, a breeze blew. Meanwhile, the man sat down on a stump by the cliff and began to look ahead.

- Well, I asked you to come, my dear!

While I was resting, the poor fellow was constantly looking around: he felt that he was not alone! He felt it! I wonder if his name could sound different? For example, ENRIQUE. A beautiful play on words. These names are as easy as pie confuse. I'll have to ask. Five minutes later, I dived down to the last two levels again. It was like falling from the height of a multi-story building. And not with a jump, but when the floor breaks under my feet. And I fly, breaking through ceilings, hitting myself painfully... Finally, I fell out into reality.

Oh, damn... I'm so wet! First I took out a handkerchief and blew my nose very quietly. I've never been so tired! My legs felt like lead. And in my head there's a song that's stuck with me for two days: "Agatha Christie" - "Fairy Taiga". Well, let's start deciphering it.

First of all, this song is for the Dark Ones. Chupacabra can be compared to Satan, who wanders through the forest at night and howls. Drunk stars - we, the Light Ones, stuck in the taiga. I wonder where in the sky I got so drunk that I fell into the Siberian taiga? I fell, woke up. That's the kind of stuff I am. I take off my wet shirt, lie down on my jacket, and start eating the chocolate I had prepared in advance. First I finished off one bar, then a second, a third. I took a flask of milk out of my backpack and drank it in one gulp.drank. Then very slowly turned on his side, carefully raised his head. Enerik was standing by a tall cedar, on the top of which huge cones were clearly visible. And as if knowing that I was nearby, he threw a charge of Light Power in my direction. Carefully, as if playing. I greedily absorbed it into myself, feeling better. I lay down on my stomach, crawled back: I heard the rustle of feet on the grass. A woman was coming this way. The blue-eyed man laughed kindly. He took a bundle from his bosom.

Having seized the moment, I rushed with lightning speed into the nearest bushes, from where everything could be observed. They certainly wouldn't see me from a distance of fifty meters! The pangs of conscience gnawed. That daughter of Elena came quietly, bowed low. Despite the autumn, Ira is BAREFOOT!!! Winter in some areas it makes its claim already at the beginning of October, and in winter the temperature here sometimes drops to fifty degrees. Or even lower. It's Indian summer now, cold. A cold breeze is blowing, and she's standing there in a dress and blouse! Hardened, I suppose! And uncontrollable - blind with joy: everything turns out exactly as she wants. Did she want it this boss? Or just decided to talk? Like a father and daughter? Playing? Unknown. And if Dmitrievna's daughter turns out to be non-human, then who?

... He stood on the edge of the cliff and looked at the sky, hugging his guest around the waist, boyishly pressing his cheek to the back of her head. Then he moved away a little, put his palms on Ira's tummy, closed his eyes, turning to her full face. Oh, how these two look like Leonardo DiCaprio Caprio and Kate Winslet from Titanic! I want to do the same with a woman! Don't tempt me, friend! Or I'll get mad at you! I envy you! A truly majestic view opened up to the gaze: the Oka ran like a wide ribbon, its waters sparkled in the rays of the sun. And on one bank there was a village, on the other - a half-naked forest. The leaves had already begun to fall.Beautiful and calm. Kiss me finally!!! I've been waiting for a long time! Or... ahem... she's grown up anyway.

The archmage whispered something to Ira, quietly handed her a bouquet of flowers. She bowed her head, kissed him first on the left cheek, then on the right, and lightly touched his lips with hers. I turned away, almost howling: WHAT IS HE DOING?! A MADMAN! Then our Celt sat down Turkish on the grass, his golden eyelashes trembled. He looked at the bundle lying next to him, motioning with his eyes for Ira to unwrap it.

- This is for you, my dear. I want you to put it on now. I won't look - I'll turn away.

- And I'll turn away too... although no. - I whispered to myself.

From behind the pine tree came the most real beauty since the times of Rome and the barbarians. Even I groaned with admiration in the bushes. Enerik stood up, but then fell to his knees: his adopted daughter made a truly due impression. The spitting image of Guinevere from the film "King Arthur". Ira sat down on the grass, at that moment she and the boss really did look alike on the royal couple. Where is Lancelot? THERE WAS ALSO SOMETHING ABOUT HER THAT STRIKED US ALL AT ONCE, FROM THE MOMENT I SAW HER. I KNEW IT WAS ALL… A TERRIBLE MISTAKE! STOP, DON’T DO THIS! STOP! THINK ABOUT IT!

On the belt are real Roman and Chinese coins, quietly and gently jingling. The dress is made of ochre-colored canvas, only the sleeves are dark brown. They resemble fairy wings, the clothes fit the figure quite tightly, hiding nothing. Giving the one who wears it a special beauty. For a moment it seemed - a girl from the distant Middle Ages returned to our world. On her head was a hoop of forged silver, decorated with a pattern of twisted leaves. On the hands of the "princess" were bracelets. A Celtic girl, resurrected from the dead. The gentleman kissed Ira's hand, got down on one knee.

- We are so rarely alone... I invited you here so that we could at least have a normal conversation here. In the village - it's not the same. Did you like the dress?

- Very much! Oleg, we haven't seen each other for twenty-six years, I missed you so much! What are the presents for? After all, the last time you saw me, I was a little girl. You took care of me, replacing my father.

The Celt smiled.

- This is my mother's dress. I've been keeping it for a long time. I decided to give it to her. Don't be offended, okay? I sewed the coins on recently.

- How old are you?! - The woman tilted her head to the side in surprise. Enerik broke out in a sweat after such a question: "I won't tell you my real age, otherwise you'll faint." He hugged her tenderly, pressed her to himself, and she began to cry.

- What happened?

- There are only five or six people here in the entire village, the rest are Wild. Take me away from here! I can't stay here any longer.

The Chief choked. The palm fell into his hand, and such despair burned in the unfortunate woman's eyes that the Celt was frightened. How could he tell the truth to the naive Irina's face?

— I don’t care who I become! I’m tired of being humiliated by others! You’re the only one who will understand me correctly and not judge me. Look what the years have done to us: I’ve become dark-haired, I’m already starting to go grey, and you’re eternally young. If it weren’t for the isolation, the abandoned village, I would have gotten married and had a child long ago.

"Bad. You have no idea how cruel the youth in Bratsk are! They will corrupt, seduce, kill, and use you for their own selfish purposes! You should enjoy life here, silly. You won't be able to live among people - you'll get scared. And as for us, magicians - I don't know. And I don't... okay, so be it."

He thought so for one reason - he loved. WHOM DID HE LOVED?! OR NOT? THIS THOUGHT DID NOT GIVE ME PEACE... But... I knew the real reason. Svetly kissed the woman on the forehead, picked her up in his arms.

- Thank you for replacing my father in childhood.

- I only want your happiness.

- Are you married, Oleg?

The question stumped me. If he was married, then after a breakup he either threw away the rings or melted them down into jewelry. Ira stroked Enerik's golden locks with her thin hand and kissed him on the cheek.

- I'm not married, but I've loved one person for a long time.

- Who is it?

So what will he say? The truth, or a lie?!

- I love you, Irishka.

Lies! Don't lie! I turned white as chalk. A drop of sweat ran down my back. Oh yeah…

- Me too, Light Mage. So this is your mother's wedding dress, who lived so long ago?

- Yes. Let's talk about something good. Otherwise, everyone only thinks about how to kick out the mutant.

- Let's do it.

- I will be your father, lover, brother, beloved, just a good friend. I love you very much, be my wife.

Ira smiled happily. Yes, it rarely happens: as a child you fall in love with an adult man, you are afraid of him, thinking that his answer will push you away. And then, many years later, he reciprocates. Enerik carefully sat Ira down on the grass, kissed her on the cheek, hugged her shoulders, and then gently kissed her on the lips, fulfilling a childhood dream.

And I realized - that's it, the limit... My nerves gave out from this. You're a blockhead! Now he has no time for us. He opened a Portal under his feet and fell into the astral plane.

The same day, or rather not day, but night. About two hours. Roof

Well, here I am... Lying on the roof, my leg bent. My arms are spread out to the sides, one of them is holding tightly to the ladder nailed to the roof - I have settled down on the part from which it is impossible to fall. I don't want to go down: it's fresh and nice, my brain is cleared. The black sky, strewn with bright stars of various sizes, is overturned above my head. A cloud of steam escapes from my mouth, my eyes look dreamily into infinity, which is measured in hundreds of thousands of parsecs. Hundreds, thousands of stars… The North Star hangs somewhere above the horizon, around it are the constellations Ursa Major and Ursa Minor: two dippers. Here is Orion, three stars of Perseus, a little lower - Cassiopeia in the form of the letter "W", Coma Berenices and others. Great!

Now it blinks blue, now red. Something is floating across the sky, flickering with scarlet light: a fairly large star is quickly rushing along the endless, black carpet. The UFO is again rushing into our world, the star disappears over the horizon. More and more stars appear in the sky with each passing minute, they become even brighter. The constellations of Cassiopeia, Musca,Perseus and Andromeda shine like beads in the sun. Here again, several stars are chasing each other. They disappear behind the forest, but then they appear again, turn left and jump again like grasshoppers. Beautiful, mysterious. You won't see anything like this in Moscow! It's for sure that there is a life of its own here.

I close my eyes and stretch with pleasure. I still really want to be loved. I lie and imagine a beauty lying next to me, her head on my chest. We lie on the roof under a blanket of stars, quietly talking. Sometimes we stop to kiss. But it’s all a mirage, I hug myself and turn over on my side: it takes a long time to lie on a hard surface I won't - my back is tired. Night is a wonderful time between dinner and breakfast. The stars are real riddles, it is useful to study the figures in the night sky, making up your own. It seems that frozen, frozen Music is slowly floating across the sky. You don't hear it, but you feel it with your soul and body. The dots in the sky continue to shine with dim and bright flashes.

The village was asleep, only a few lights were shining in the distance - probably someone was having a get-together or celebrating. In the distance, a long howl was heard in the forest - werewolves were playing tricks again, or wolves. Five minutes later, there was a dead, divine silence. At three o'clock in the morning, I heard the heavy flapping of wings, looked at the horizon. A clot of Darkness the size of a man was flying straight towards me. At first, I was taken aback, but then understood: it was one of the vampire friends. Enormous leathery wings flapped in the air, like a bird's. Finally, the creature landed on the roof, dived into the astral plane with me, transformed into a completely naked, tall man, who had a bag with clothes hanging on his back. Konstantin. Darkness is Darkness, but I really didn't want it to other vampires, probably flying nearby, thought we were gay or crazy.

- Hello, Maxim, Inquisitor.

- Hello, Kostya. I see you've flown into the Light like a moth to a light bulb.

- I'm here... hunting. Yes, I've flown in: you're shining in the invisible World like a spotlight. I wonder why the Light One in the middle of the night"I feel like climbing up on the roof? Maybe you'll give me a light?" he joked, then grabbed a giant butterfly flying past with his long fingers, admired it for a couple of minutes, tore off its wings and threw it into his mouth. Two giant, membranous wings of the unfortunate insect slowly fell to my feet with a rustling sound. Strange in the village  vampires gain strength: they fly and eat whatever they can get their hands on.

- Is it tasty? - I asked, clearing my throat.

- Depends on what you eat. It helps a lot in hungry times. How are you, Light One? - Dark One pulled up his trousers.

- It couldn't be worse.

- Why is that? - We've entered reality.

- Our boss Enerik fell in love and now walks around like he's drunk. He's either gone crazy or his hormones are going crazy. Most likely the first - from grief... we had one case there... He...

The vampire's eyes widened.

— Your boss has gone nuts! THIS has NEVER happened before, that the Great Ones would throw away their careers and friends whom they have known for many years for the sake of a brat who doesn't even know who she is dealing with! If she starts manipulating and controlling your Celt, she will have to be bitten, then Enerik will sober up. He will not tolerate the Dark One! Click through the Darkness, and that's it.

The Warriors of Light were spared.

- He'll kill you after that!

- Sorry, your Charter doesn't apply here. The Light One has no right to give orders here. He wouldn't dare. Some collection of your rules forbids it. Then they'll write it down in his file: illegally, undeservedly killed a peaceful Dark One in a peaceful settlement. You know what he's in for. And one more thing: I don't have and never had permission to bite, everything is different here. -The vampire took a cigarette from my hands, lit it (he must have lived in the city before), striking a match, which I also gave him with the box. He blew a couple of rings. - Is Ira a human, or not?

- You're going to fall: HE HIMSELF DOESN'T KNOW THIS!

Kostya's face lengthened even more, he almost swallowed the cigarette from surprise and swayed forward.

- WHAT KIND OF BRIGHT IS HE AFTER THIS, IF HE DOESN'T KNOW!? Is he so passionate that he can't enter the astral plane and see who's who?

I coughed and smiled.

- He can, he raised that fool like his own daughter.

- This is the first time I've heard of it... Old vampires say: your Oleg Arensky, when he showed up here, instantly made all the girls fall in love with him, but he never went out with anyone. Asexual. Never went out, except with... Ugh! I forgot his name! - Konstantin scratched his nose.

- With Elena Dmitrievna's daughter. Like her father. - I corrected him.

- That's it... The girl is overgrown. She still is, she's been mentally ill for a long time. He hasn't even seen WHO she turns into when she has an attack! Disgusting! He's in trouble! Talk to him, so he can watch. Talk this fool out of playing with sperm in his balls! You know... That's some piss in his head!

- Can I ask you one thing?

- What exactly?

- You... don't have any children in the village, do you? There used to be a lot, as you said yourself. Five or six in a family. - I was racking my brains over what had happened here in the last twenty-six years, since no one was giving birth anymore.

We smoked, blowing smoke rings into the air. A funny couple: the Light One - the Inquisitor and the Dark One - the vampire. Talking!

- If many are born, then this outbreak occurs once every thirty years. While the children are small, the villagers look for non-humans among them. If they find them, they don't touch them until a certain age. But, as is known, creatures have children - the same - very rarely. At fifteen, the Light Ones are chosen, and the rest become vampires or werewolves.

I involuntarily remembered Illyo. I immediately imagined graphs of some content, looking into the astral. Beautiful, four graphs appeared before my eyes, glowing with a scarlet light. Scary. They floated, changing outlines: first one, then the second. Where the lines intersected, it meant the following: either a flash of initiation of the Dark, Light, - or at that moment the village became the object squabbles between people and ours. They ended in murders or peace. Particularly strong ones happened in the fifty-fourth year, in the mid-sixties, in the mid-seventies of the last century. Unfortunately, the balance is on the Dark side. A real anomaly!

This only happens in Siberia. In Moscow, in the entire history of work, this has never happened. Nowhere. When I arrived in Bratsk, the adventures began. Here you have flying saucers, and hereditary Magi, and from somewhere a mystical village appeared, which looms before your eyes every day. During the squabbles, all the residents were forced to die voluntarily. If such lawlessness in Moscow happened... So far, Siberians are lucky. Excellent: no one except Kostya Alushkin and his brother knows who I am. Very soon, mass childbirth will begin, then there will be a lull. Everything returns to normal. The vampire nudged me in the side with his elbow. I woke up, the drawings automatically entered my memory.

- Mac, what's wrong?

- I'm thinking... I'm thinking what will happen next with the village THAT IS NOT ON THE MAP. What if there are too many of you?

- We'll build another village. You, Svetoch, won't give us away?

I looked at my friend in amazement.

- Why?! You can erase my memory before leaving - I give you permission.

- It's three o'clock now. Time to sleep, Light. And one more thing: the damn Chupacabra tore someone apart this evening: she's angry - her tail was pinched by a trap. I advise you to throw away the claw, otherwise the beast will eat you. - The man scratched his side and arms: fur was falling out of his skin, claws were growing on his fingers, wings fluttered behind his back. - I'll fly, look for this creature, try to attack with spells. Go to bed, otherwise you from the invisible World a moth will fly like me, then it will be no laughing matter. - Konstantin jumped down and flew noisily into the night. I wonder if the boss is home? Yes. He sleeps like a log, not seeing or hearing anything.

I climbed through the window into the attic, plopped down on the bed: my body was as heavy as lead. I lay there for a while, lit a candle, and began everything to write in the diary. I wrote out twelve pages! I have never written SO MUCH in a notebook! I lie down in bed, mutter a poem about a village, the words are - a squirrel gnaws a bear. Opposite I heard snoring: Enerik had had enough of walking.

September 11. Village "X"

I sleep all day, so I don't write anything. Waking up at three o'clock day or four (about that time), I learned the following: a light bulb burned out in the attic, the basement was flooded, and for dinner (for me, breakfast) they served the first potato of the year - a kinglet with mushrooms. Someone was scratching outside the window all night... Kostya, probably.

September 12th - 15th

We rummaged through my attic for several stacks of newspapers about anomalous phenomena and began to read them animatedly. Also in my bag I had Gerasimov's book "The Nature of Bratsk and Its Environs". It's cool, I highly recommend reading it to anyone interested in this city. It's where they wrote about the mysterious lake. A five-year-old newspaper reported on some kind of flying saucer. Quite a terrible article. Nonsense for an ordinary person at first glance, but not for a non-human. Moreover, it’s nonsense: in “X” there are things that are even more terrible.

Everyone was surprised by another fact: the boss found my diary and started to write in it, turning the notebook upside down. He started writing on the other side. What he scribbled there, I won’t say for now, I’ll keep it to myself. Although okay, I’ll tell you! He wrote his personal,
romantic adventures. I didn't read them, I just skimmed through them. He probably wants to keep them as a keepsake if I return to Moscow with all the diaries.

Irina hasn't shown up near her mother's house yet. But Enerik leaves every morning and returns well after midnight. His face is rosy, his body is hot, and there's a smile on his lips. He's probably heavy inside, went to Irka to "relieve myself". Sorry for the vulgarity, I have no other thoughts on this matter. Another joke about the surname Gerasimov arose: Gerasim drowned the mutated Mu-Mu in the Bratsk Reservoir near the hydroelectric power station, he himself was from Bratsk, that's why he is mute. So they write about the mysterious lake: something is glowing there! Mu-Mu has become a saint... Damn... I am drawn to black stuff and stupidity. I was scared for the boss. Had something happened? I asked cautiously at lunch and got:

- This is my personal life.

- Really? Look at her! Are you nuts?! Don't fool yourself! HOW DO YOU UNDERSTAND THIS?! She's a child compared to you, Enerik! Leave her alone! Open your eyes! Did we come here to fuck?! Has darkness taken over your mind, huh?! Since you can't see the log in your own eye.

— That's true! — Valyuk added.

In response to this, the Celt slammed his fist on the table, and his face was distorted with such anger, as if the chief of the Dark Ones was sitting in front of us! But not Glomen. The son of a tramp and a woman. A plate flew off the table. If the Light One is EVIL (!) — it's better to keep quiet.

- Shut up, Valera! None of your business! And none of yours, Max! You've had a girlfriend for a long time, and I have no one else! Yes, I howled, raged and threw... You don't understand what it's like to be alone and look at couples walking under the moon! Brat! When she leaves you, you'll understand the pain of loneliness! Please shut up, or you'll get out! Bitch! - He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

Well, what a number! That idiot bewitched him! That's why he's furious. Never mind, the woman will die anyway. He thinks that we're all deliberately putting pressure on him, interfering, you see. To top it all off, the fair-haired man grabbed a glass of tea from the table and splashed it in Valery's face. The offended young man kept silent, lowering his head. And then, barely audible, with his lips alone, he said:

- Go to hell... Damn womanizer! But ((- ((- ((- ((and you can do it!

He turned around and left. He climbed into the attic and got a notebook with poems from there.

- Just touch Irina - I'll kill you!

- You're crazy... - I said bitterly. But they say: The Light One cannot become the Dark One! It turns out he can. The fault is -village energy. No one argued anymore, they left the boss alone. But a couple of times we had a really bad fight. I tried to set my friend straight.

And in the attic we read poems. Sad ones. My notebook with them is on the table. Thick, covered from cover to cover, my favorite. Now I hide the diary far away.

"Here are unfamiliar faces from the stones

Silently looking: "We are here!"

And some stupid birds

Sing over a forgotten grave.

A secret, strange place.

A brown look through — through the dead wood.

I could become your bride,

And then somehow immediately a widow.

I would drown the bitterness in daisies,

Melting like an icicle, day after day.

A young man in a marvelously white shirt,

Why didn't you wait for me?!

I would have caught up with you at the threshold,

I wouldn't have let you in, I would have said: "Kariy, stop!"

The sparrows suddenly fly up in alarm,

And the dead wood rises like a wall.

And the "granite faces" are absurd,

And this "eternal shelter" is wrong...

Why do the birds sing so joyfully

Above your grave"?

Too beautiful, mystical and cool. Warm truth of the cold. Broken hopes at the tombstone, delirium, when the darkness falls on the earth. Unhappy, but played out love, filmed on video. How bitter to realize - all our dreams are shattered by reality. You dream, you dream, but everyone turns their back on you - no matter what you do to fulfill your plans. You cry, you fight in hysterics, losing the most precious thing, but - alas, time is hopelessly lost, and in the soul there is emptiness and pain. Only pain... Punishment - cold, penetrating every finger, every cell of the body. When life and the surrounding world lose all meaning.

Everything has become so aimless, hasn't it? Then you throw yourself into creativity, art. Independence, initiative. But sometimes in songs, stories and drawings - like mine now - despair or the image you've created for yourself flashes through. It's especially reflected during falling in love, which everyone, in their youth, takes for love.

Despite what I have written — on the previous pages — for me, love is nothing. Dating — too. A kiss? A way to cling to your partner. Is his friendship not enough for you?! Just a crush, flirting, the same friendship. Some people put pressure on their partner, saying: “Do THIS, at least you’ll feel like a human being!” Even if I do it in two — three years, - I'll sleep with her when I find a woman, - I won't become a human by any stretch of the imagination. I haven't been a human for a long time. I go outside, close my eyes... It's fresh, the rain has passed. My lips whisper:

For all the gold in the world

I can't buy peace.

We don't learn anything, we just acquire conditioned reflexes.

I stood outside for an hour, then went to drink some tea. What are conditioned reflexes anyway? A state in which hormones go crazy, or you want to do something, but not to someone else, but to yourself. You stick your “I” out, not wanting to listen to anyone, not accepting any criticism directed at you. You are a slave to your habits, against which you are unable to turn back.

I'm sitting next to Valera, listening to poetry reading, trying to understand the essence of the village "X". A village in which there are almost no people. Man has disappeared from here. For a while, or maybe forever. I don't know. There are no rules here. There is absolute, uncontrolled freedom. This is bad, very bad.

And this is what I managed to understand during my entire stay in Siberia. Sit and listen to my voice in your subconscious, or read: between Moscow and Bratsk, between the cultures of these two completely different cities, there is a gigantic abyss. Not everyone can jump over it. Yes, your muscles will ache, your bones will crack, and either, completely exhausted, - you will collapse in the middle into the abyss... or fall without strength to the other edge. In one, the two cities completely coincide: both have become famous throughout the world. One brings people blessed glory, intelligence, - the other shits under itself, poisoning with pride. At the same time, it also has a good reputation, acquired fifty years ago. Another truth has been confirmed: greenery and naivety do no good to anyone - they want everything at once, without thinking about the consequences. The people of the village "X" are truly Bratchans. It looks like our vacation will drag on for several months. Then the balance of Light in the city will collapse completely due to someone's lovemaking and games.

We discussed how to catch Chupacabra so many times! Enerik even blurted out: he will take it with his bare hands! He took a risk, and what came of it - read on the following pages. All the heroism began with the fact that the chief checked all the residents, as he promised. Then he said - Anna's son is missing one incisor - a canine. It was torn out by the roots. The man turned out to be Dark. The boss tried to feel his energy level, but couldn’t: WALL. Highest level.

“The man is twenty-six years old, and he has somehow already managed to become a Highest level mage and of monstrous power! And potentially stronger than me! The worst thing is my godson!!! My premonitions came true. Dark Archmage, Highest. Half-werewolf — half-vampire! Oh Gods,” thought Svetly then, when he left that ill-fated house, grabbed his head and cried.

We didn’t expect that. Not at all. It would be difficult to take the creature alive, and even harder to kill: such a guy wouldn’t want to die!

Children jump around here at night – in the form of lizards with the heads of Anubis in the garden beds. They spend the summer in the forest, learning to hunt and survive, but their not enough... If such a child bites an arm or a leg, the limb will either be amputated or suffer the fate of turning into a werewolf. But the Dark Ones here are mostly good, they almost don't bother anyone. They have closed the village in a ring. Monstrous guards - dinosaurs. Similar to T-Rex and Velociraptors and others predators. They are very strong, and sometimes it is impossible to catch up with them.

After the chief figured out the Chupacabra, he was able to get in touch with Konstantin. He became a master in his field, and as for the teeth, he had an ironclad alibi: they were knocked out in a fight. It became interesting, HOW could they be knocked out like that - together with the root?! No way! The Celt became cautious, stopped going for a walk every day, and in his
 kept thinking: "First I helped him come into the world, now I'll kill him." Then the mother was called in for questioning. She confirmed the guess. She said: she can't be near her son - she feels sick, nauseous. As a child, the boy was weak, he amazed everyone with his bad behavior. Already at five years old he was rude, boorish. The unfortunate woman tried to change him, locked him in a closet, in the attic, even threatened him with a knife. In vain.

During his teenage years, she made him dig the garden, water the beds, weed, so that her son would not fall into a depraved life. Despite everything, he lost his virginity at the age of fifteen. His first sexual contact happened with that same Irina. Dmitrievna, having barely learned that her daughter had been raped, went to the Fortune Teller, who restored his chastity with the help of some herbs and magic.

It all sounded like the stoned ravings of a drug addict. Because no one returns virginity like that. Everyone was shocked when they found out: a fifteen-year-old teenager somehow fucked a twenty-five-year-old. Ira, as she said herself, went into the forest after the vampire, hooked by the Call. Resistance is useless. The woman became his first love, so he wanted to turn his sweetheart into his equal. It didn't work.

It is completely unclear how the victim then went into the astral plane, breaking free from the embrace of the Dark One. She understood: she was also not human, but too weak. He also climbed into the invisible World.

“You are Dark! How old are you? Twenty?”

“Fifteen.” Kostya grinned. “Even though I am Dark, I love you and want us to be equal. How is that possible, at twenty-five to be a virgin?! Well, well... Very good. It's a pity Oleg Arensky isn't here - that golden-haired handsome man would probably tear me to shreds. Another bad thing is that I'm his godson. As his mother told me, you brought him to her yourself. Come out, or you'll die."

"You know, Kuskov, Oleg Arensky didn't wish you any harm. If if it weren't for a Caesarean section, he would have died himself! Scum... - the newly-minted woman was grieving." The Invisible World hissed, sensing the blood, and released the poor thing. She collapsed on the grass, exhausted, wincing in wild pain. Unprepared, she tasted the forbidden fruit. In black tones, not white.

That day, Enerik, having twisted his godson's memory, forced him to show everything in his subconscious. Afterwards, he wanted to fall through the ground. He would have something to tell at work. "Glomen and Amrod will laugh at me as if they were high on drugs! What a disgrace! It turns out that now we have two Kostyas - one is a bastard, the other "good". But the next day... when our boss saw Kuskov again, one could at first decide that he was not Svetoch at all:

- How could you, bitch... I raised her like my own daughter! And I held you, Supreme Mage, in my arms! What a bastard you are, Kostya... What a carrion…

Nearby in the bushes someone was fighting - probably children - werewolves were not dividing the spoils. Meanwhile, a fight broke out between the Great Dark and Light. The lizards flew out of cover like a bullet: five of them, the body of an arnithopod - a predatory type of dinosaur, about a meter tall, the head of Anubis, and eyes like beads. They surrounded the fighters, squealing and squeaking,jumping on powerful legs, waving its tail. Scary claws adorned its legs, sharp black ears moved, turning at every rustle. People like that should be chained up and forced to dig up potatoes in the fall. As a result, we found the chief - covered in blood - on the attic floor. He was barely breathing. When we examined him, we came to disappointing conclusions: his right hand and two
ribs are broken, chest is smashed, head too. Hair is all in blood. There are several lacerations on the leg. He won't be able to walk for long. The Celt turned his head, under his swollen eye there was a bruise and swelling.

Oh, my…

— Elena Dmitrievna, is it true that this bastard…

- It's true. - The woman sighed, changing the bandages. - Sorry, Oleg, that I didn't tell you this earlier. This Kostya Kuskov is a rare bastard! He really liked Irina when she was fifteen. He offered to sleep with her, she refused. He began to take revenge, using the Call. Here, children at fifteen mature very early, and besides, they look older than their years. This vampire became the first guy in the village. The girls follow him in droves ran, loved to drag a fool who fell in love with him to the hayloft, to bed. It's good that he was a monster - where would his daughter have had an abortion? Why did he challenge him to a duel?

- Wanted to calculate his magical potential. Here's the result. When he started digging in his memory, he didn't like it. Threatened to take revenge. Told him to come talk to him the next day. At the meeting I freaked out out of jealousy, we got into a fight… — the golden-haired man answered quietly. He was shaking from weakness, fatigue, his right hand didn’t move at all. I put my hand on his shoulder:

— IS IT HIM?

— He, he. It all fits: he’s never home at night, he’s missing a tooth and one nail is torn out. But to raise a hand against the one who helped bring him into this world, just like that, already smells like execution!

The hostess fainted. I reached into the cupboard for the first aid kit.

- Maxim, an employee of the Headquarters from different cities, read your diary entries, wrote some of my own on the last pages. Sorry, Yegor and Valera.

- Will you answer to your face for that tea? - Valera asked sternly.

- Forgive me.

— Elena Dmitrievna, how did your son react to that rape? — Yegor asked, frowning.

— Alexander? He was really angry. He went and beat her face in for his sister. Since then, Kostya hasn’t liked him. — She went to warm up the soup. The teenager narrowed his eyes, unwound a clean bandage — Enerik’s torn head was bleeding again. Svetly was having a hard time breathing. He was lying on the couch, sleeping. It helped a little - the pain was reduced and regeneration was happening, many times faster than in humans.

I opened the diary, turned it to the last pages. Immediately, the small but beautiful handwriting caught my eye - with monograms, squiggles, all written with a pen and ink. They make it here themselves: they take ash and mix it with milk.

It turned out that it wasn't the boss, but the vampire who went crazy during the conversation. He started to beat up his opponent. How the Light One managed to stay alive after such a fight, open the Portal, and leave - I still don't understand. Then it became clear when I read to the end. At first I thought that reflexes saved him. The Archmage struck, and the Dark One put up a powerful barrier around himself. Maybe Arensky splashed vodka in his face to "solve the problem"? Probably. What did the poor guy scribble there? It's already evening, time to sleep. I close the thick notebook, wish the poor guy good night, blow out the candles. The room quickly fills with the smell of wax, and the moon rises on the horizon, shining right on me.

Full moon. Wild time - now vampires and werewolves will rush into the forest for the Sabbath, including Chupacabra - if, of course, he can. Scary. Only the Light Ones remain. There are brave ones among them - they watch the games of the Dark Ones. Creatures also know how to hope for the best. Each for himself. As each needs, so it will be.

The trees are almost bare, dry leaves lie on the paths. The wind throws them into the air, catches them, carries them away. The light has become transparent, the swamps are full - full of cranberries, laughter, squeals, screams are heard from there, it smells of smoke and some kind of nastiness. Now fiery tongues of flame shoot up into the sky. Night has come. For the Light. For the Dark - day. They see in the dark.

September 16

Ten in the morning, something like that. I look out the window at the river, leafing through my diary

It's cloudy. Clouds have crawled up the sky from nowhere, a drizzle is falling. Fine, nasty... The wind whistles under the roof and in the cracks. The wind again hits the glass with an apple tree branch, on which there is one - the only leaf left. Everyone was digging potatoes, except Energy. It is no longer in the garden. The carrots have not been touched: green bunches stick out above the beds. A large sleepy fly flies around the room.

A log is floating down the Oka (“A brick is floating down the river – pale – pale, like glass. Well, let it float, a fly is also a helicopter” – that’s just by the way). It floats beautifully: a wave rolls over twigs and snags, foaming. White ones are walking on the mighty waves whitecaps, the waves themselves are huge - you can swing on them for a long time. Here one hit a small rock with a noise and flowed away, as if calming down. Do you know what Chupacabra is - in reality? The same Cheburashka, but big and toothy. The landscape outside the window itself makes a very gloomy impression. Like every autumn: gray, rain beats on the glass, damp, cold chills to the bone. On the street - not a thing souls: The Dark Ones had their fill of fun, they're sleeping. The village is covered in dead silence, broken only by the wind and the noise of the river. Even the little dinosaurs don't squeal or howl: they've probably hid in their holes. I wonder what it's like in winter? I have no idea.

I sighed, took the coffee off the stove, added cream to the mug, strained the brew through a sieve, and opened the diary again. It seems that the chief was once known as a chronicler: I found no mistakes in the text. No incorrect phrases, interesting style.

This is how it really was, if you don’t throw anything out.

“THE LIGHT MAGE OF BRATSK IS A WEAKENESS?

September 14th

Before going to the meeting, I checked all my capabilities and strength. I looked at my palms and went cold: there was a sign of Death on them. Maybe I could avoid death? Anna probably told her son a lot of good things about Oleg Arensky. There is no point in talking about how Kostya was born. The situation in the village has almost reached a dangerous point.It was made worse by the fact that Kuskov was called Chupacabra in childhood. In fact, that's what they call another creature. I don't care at all how he was raised, who made this guy like that, or anything else - life or non-life. What worries me is: will this Dark One start being rude to your face or will he improve? I don't know.

I know martial arts techniques too well - I lived in China for two centuries. And the army there - oh, what a warrior! They'll kick you somewhere, then you'll rack your brains trying to figure out why your head hurts, you'll sleep for days. I'll strike with calculation - just so I don't kill. Although this one died a long time ago. When he turned fifteen. Or is there still some life in his body, since he's even a werewolf? And a vampire... Bitter.

It's not my concern. I chose this happiness for myself. But that's not the only thing. The man is too attached to everything unknown, mystical. Me too. At least I like that about him. I put on a kimono, tighten my belt, do a somersault, and look through the invisible World into the forest. Empty. Strange - we agreed to meet at the appointed time, but I don't feel the Darkness! Just in case, I reached into the first aid kit. I took out iodine,green paint, bandages, — put it in the bag. Stuffed some vodka in there too. What if I get hit on the head, or stabbed in the chest? What if this bastard breaks through the spells?

For what — o-o-o-o?!

My kimono is real, it’s about five hundred years old. I don’t remember how I got it. But there is another one, newer. On the back there is gold embroidery in the form of a dragon. It’s a pity to wear such beauty, but another there is no combat clothing - for such a heart-rending meeting. Then I will patch it up with magic. I twirled in front of the mirror, tied my hair in a ponytail, smiled. For some reason it was cheerful - I must be going crazy.

I go out the door, throw on a jacket, a backpack. I go to the forest, looked through the entire astral plane there - clean! But my heart tells me - not so. The forest blows cold, chill, mysticism. I can't hear anyone or anything,boots got wet in an instant - the grass was damp, mud was all around. Scary, mutant frogs just squirmed away from me.

Right behind the village there was a swamp. I walked through it without falling through. Finally, a wonderful melody sounded in my subconscious. At first quietly, then louder and louder. Wonderful sounds of flute and violins, impossible to tear yourself away from. The call works,like a drug: it hits your brain and starts to take you away. The same thing happens to me, the son of a tramp. It hooks you - just like a spider throws a thread from its hiding place to its victim, then pulls it towards itself. The head thinks in a completely different way when music clouds your consciousness, forcing you to submit to the enemy. You'll only wake up then, when you begin to feel - there is no way out, the enemy stands before you. Hope is a passionate, voluptuous feeling - but completely useless for someone who is facing the future... Yes... Clever.

In your name - the sound of metal, it is straight and sharp. Like a blade. The stroke of a comet in the night sky is a symbol, to see this image even with my eyes closed is my fate. I walk, I reason, the forest becomes denser, I make my way through windfalls, gullies. Mentally demolishing everything in my path. I wonder what will happen today? The day before yesterday I turned my godson's memory inside out, learned the truth. I confess to you - I experienced a good shock…

At the same time, I remember the Middle Ages, looking through eternity. Almost the same way they lived there in this village. Maxim, you know, I think I found the music that expresses your soul - or the one whose living embodiment you are - charming - sad melodies and songs by Lorina McKennitt. Inquisitor for all of Bratsk. Lucky. Cool, really: The Supreme Light One goes to fight the Supreme Dark One. Tired,sat down on a stump, kicking a few toadstools. Konstantin is now out of control, his music is similar to the melodies of "RAMMSTEIN": "Spailushrl" - how the title of the song is actually written, I have no idea. Dick, lustful, ill-mannered.

When I saw - he was missing one fang, I understood everything. My body seemed to have stopped living from the outside, was not even able to cover head with hands right from a stone flying at it, or dodge an arrow shot right into the heart - as if the Middle Ages had returned to me here. In the whole organism only the eyes and ears remained alive. Into which the seething streams of information were constantly pouring, threatening to flood the mind - beating as if in a fever from the realization: everything around is real... Too real visible images, movements!

If I could touch the trunks of giant trees - which grew eight hundred years ago, thirty meters high. Feel the cold of eternal snows - as before in Greenland with Eric the Red, and the heat of the underground fire - say at least a word to those strong and beautiful... Even if - just once - the smells of grass, flowers of the endless steppes, or smoke from countless fires (when abandoned villages burn), fires, burnt bodies were carried, as in the Middle Ages... Then I would die... in the seat of my car. All - my humble opinion. But at the same time, I continue to live, despite all the murders that have happened around me here - twenty years back, and in other places. My eyes are not blinded by the too bright flashes of lightning and anger. My ears are not deafened by the roar of hundreds of thousands of throats, rockfalls and waterfalls, the clanking of swords, the whistling of arrows.

I see - the forest has begun to thin out, and finally I come to the cliff. Below flows a river. The horizon line is so close, and so incomprehensibly far ... beckoning to follow it. The airy ephemerality of the written in the half-light of the astral, poems are just some of your images, Light. Some of many. No matter how you hide, I can still feel! The music is getting louder.

A dash, a dot, a few words

In the morning they flew away into the frosty heights.

You will remember fragments of a thousand dreams,

You go through memory right through.


Original, and how it fits the situation! It calms. It warms the heart, on the street. But the most important thing remains unchanged: do not miss the Call, do not miss the precious minutes! No, not even seconds!

You see, they didn't come true...

Something dark has grown together with the heart.

Again you search for a way in the darkness,

One in a thousand, one in a million.

You want to howl at the sky from pain,

Well, we'll go through yesterday's path,

And you live, not regretting anything,

And death looms over your shoulder.

You float through time along Destiny.

Who will remember you tomorrow?

You see. That no one —

You have known emptiness with your soul.

The lines fill the white notebook,

Now I have drawn the last line.

If you ask — I will leave right now.

It's a pity: it won't work the other way around.

The melody suddenly changed notes.

Again love, again a dream,

And so year after year.

What was, will always be,

The past will happen again.

And you lose sleep at night,

And the food is bitter on your lips.

Yes or no? But you don’t know.

Tears froze in your eyes.

Why does he seek meetings?

Tormenting the soul, endlessly?

To doom you only to torment,

And destroy everything, but say.

And your heels became like lead,

But you stubbornly go forward,

Even if it takes a long time, but you will wait,

Although it should be the other way around.

Nobody wants to suffer forever,

And love will pass someday.

What will a new meeting bring you,

Dreams or pain that have always been?

You have been waiting for a call for more than one evening.

HE WILL NEVER CALL.

You are stubborn, my friend, understand,

He is completely unworthy of you.

You do not hear, continuing to sing about love,

No, the world is unfairly arranged,

There is no truth on earth,

But there is none above…

My poor Aquarius,

What a pity - you will not hear,

You read smart books,

You give good advice.

YOU KNOW WHAT BOYS NEED,

You know many answers.

But you can't help yourself,

Probably you don't even want to,

And you dream, wrapped in the night.

And, suffering, you quietly cry...

Soon the morning, the sun will rise,

Only at dawn you will fall asleep,

Your sadness will go away on its own,

Anyway. You can't escape fate.

Is this a hint? About my relationship with Irina? It seems so. He has never loved anyone, and he doesn't even know how to love! One melody flows into another in smooth waves. My godson is strong, very strong! He can even surpass me! I sent a Call in response - it bounces off! Where does the music come from?! It can't come from the invisible World: it's empty there. It bounced off!Flew away into the sky, vanished. Rammstein again! The music became louder and louder. Where are you, Kostya?! It's time to finally appear! Maybe he's sitting on a pine tree and is about to pounce?

Above his head is a cloudless sky, a giant crow flies nearby. Enormous nuthatches are jumping on the pines. Twice as big ordinary. Empty. No sign of ours nearby.

— Come out! We need to talk!

In response — dead silence. He's not coming out, the bastard, he's hiding!

After squatting for a few minutes, I, in despair, climbed up to the first four layers of the astral. Empty!

The first three.

But on the fourth floor I saw a barely noticeable blue star hanging in the air, with a thin silver thread stretching from it. Without thinking, I pulled it towards me, wrapped it around my hand, pulled it hard… and fell into the Portal. The music stopped, the forest disappeared. On the fourth floor of the unknown there is an empty space, the sky is bright pink. There are no sounds, no wind, no echo. Instead of the sun there is a scarlet dot.The deeper you go, the more dangerous the situation: you may not come back from there. If you hang a Portal to another place on the planet in such a "jelly" - there is a huge risk of getting lost.

I barely left the Portal when I returned to the real world. I gasped: a platform, an abandoned railway, not far away - a dilapidated small railway station. The rails are all bent, eaten away by rust. A wall of birch forest stands before my eyes, some river is babbling nearby, it smells disgusting. Konstantin secured the exit right above the rails - three meters above the ground. And I fell on the tracks, hitting my head on the steel so - in my eyes it got dark. There was a scratch on my forehead, I bruised my right knee, scraping it until it bled: the fabric of my jeans quickly began to turn scarlet. A warm trickle ran down my leg.

After sitting for two minutes, I somehow got up: you can break everything like that! What a bastard!

Oh, damn! How my knee hurts! My head is a complete mess. I climbed into the ghostly world again. On one leg, like Neo, I jumped on the concrete, spat out blood... He also broke his chin! He returned to reality again.

— Come out, Dark Archmage!

I said it once, then twice—it was no use! I had to say the old, broken phrase, which is no more and no less than a thousand years old:

— In the name of Archmage and the Gods, as an Archmage I command: show yourself to the Head of the Inquisition!

The phrase helped - a creature appeared. Kostya was dressed in denim, ironed clothes. His light hair was combed, on his feet were patent leather shoes. On his neck was a pendant. As if he had come to a parade!

- You are not in shape today, Light... - the ghoul giggled, taking off the amulet, throwing it in my direction. A black ball on a chain rushed to my neck, the chain unfastened, wrapped around my throat,starting to strangle her. But she calmed down immediately: a light flickered in the ball. But a wild heaviness immediately fell upon her body.

- What... should I... call you, Dark One? - I wheezed, gasping for air, trying to tear her apart.

- G E L L E M A R.

- Gellemar, then... well, fine. You will not defeat Archmage Gweld.

It immediately let go - that's usually how it happens. After clearing my throat properly, I asked:

- Why did you move here - instead of meeting at the Oka? Why am I near an abandoned railroad?!

- Actually, we are at the village "X", but it's thirty kilometers away. I arranged everything perfectly. Don't like it?

I narrowed my eyes:

- Aha... It seems, Gellemar, you really are a Chupacabra: the passage had to be secured at the edge of the cliff!

The Wild Dark One's gaze became furious. A few more similar words - and he would rush at me. The word really angered him.

- Don't you dare call me that!

- I know why. And for the murder of your brothers you will suffer the deserved punishment, the Inquisitor is already here. And now - let's talk. If you lay a finger on Irina again - will you be my godson or not - I will not regret it! What right did you have to spoil a virgin, luring her into the forest by deception?!

- Yes? (he immediately said something vulgar) This is none of your business, Svetly. I wanted it - I took it. And not you, Oleg Arensky. Oh, oh, how tense you are,jealousy will tear the Darkness to shreds now! Too late to come to your senses, Enerik! What, disappointed in your girlfriend, huh? Sorry, sorry, i don`t no! Probably after a night of love you came to Elena Dmitrievna, put a plate of pancakes in front of you, folded the top one in four, took a bite. Unfolded and put back? Ah, Light? Why are you silent? I'm the first inserted! You are the second! Reap the fruits! - And he burst out laughing.

I could not tolerate such rudeness. I quickly walked up to him, forgetting the pain, and hit the boor in the face.

- I AM NOT ENERIK! MY NAME IS ENRIQUE-GWELD KELTSKY! Enerik is an office nickname, you ragged carrion! Scoundrel... And you, Archmage, I held in my arms as a crumb! I never thought that such a creature was born…


There was a long silence. Gellemar giggled, jumped off the platform and headed towards the forest. I leaned on the railing to keep from falling: my leg still hurt, but a little less. Why the hell did he bother to deliver a baby?! I don’t know. The enemy was walking along the road, looking for a clearing. He found it. This state of affairs alarmed me, but it wasn’t the only thing: nearbya terrible growl was heard in the direction of the grove - the young birches were shaking, as if a pack of predators were hiding there, waiting for their prey.

Clear: werewolves.

- You are interesting, Light Ones: you always climb where you can die! Especially you, Oleg Keltsky: you raised a girl - then  corrupted, having disappeared for twenty-six years before that! She's almost forty, slime! Is that a nice hole she's got there? Did you like it? You're setting a good example for others!

And, throwing his hand forward, he hit me in the jaw, with all his heart. Aha, the fight is starting! That's all I needed! Why, why beat me? For belonging to the opposite side. I flew off to the nearest birch tree, his teeth crunching in his mouth, scarlet circles swimming before his eyes. He bent over and tried to take his bag off his shoulder to get some vodka and calm the Chupacabra down. With fingers numb from pain, he unzipped the bag and took out a glass. He spat out the blood and poured it to the brim.

He stood up, raised his hand, and splashed it in the vampire's face. He howled, covered his face with his hands, from which the skin peeled off in layers, and black, scarlet streams of blood flowed between his fingers. Who would defeat whom? His teeth did not crumble into crumbs. Good... Twenty-six years ago, the Light Ones tortured the Dark One - they poured beer down his throat. The poor fellow could not bear the pain,died. He didn't even have to undress to remain in a kimono: Kuskov showed himself in all his glory.

He came up sharply - and kicked the hand that held the vodka. The next blow landed on the collarbone, which meant with pain - that's it, the hand is broken. Fingers too. Then the enraged creature moved to the solar plexus, groin, claws ripped skin, clothes. Regardless to the pain, I struck with my healthy hand. I knocked out another fang of the enemy, broke a couple of ribs in response, and he didn’t yawn: he was ahead by half a second. Compared to the Chupacabra, he was a clumsy weakling. The Darkness was spinning - legs and arms were not visible, and shreds of blood and clothes were flying from me in all directions. As if I was not a creature at all - but a chainsaw. Which, being turned on, got stuck in the tree. It jammed, it just couldn't stop...

Finally, I collapsed as if I had been mown down, - at the feet of the son of Svetlaya and the werewolf. My head was broken, there was a bruise under one eye, my ribs were broken, my right arm didn't move, hanging along my body. It was almost impossible to breathe. My golden hair was covered in blood.

Kuskov sat down.

— I don’t want to kill you at all, Light One.

— Really? — I whispered angrily.

— I want to get to know Oleg Arensky better. That’s why I left him alive. Remember, wimp: if you call me Chupacabra one more time, I’ll kill you! Even if you’re the Supreme Light One three or four times, vampires are unpredictable! And not only them… — Kostya turned his head left and right. Five dinosaurs — werewolves surrounded us in a ring,their height is a meter or more. These Dark Ones, it seems, smelled the blood, came running to profit. One of them poked me in the side with his nose, began to lick the blood, my whole body was immediately pierced by terrible pain. I clenched my teeth so as not to groan. I'll die - well, okay, I lived a long time.

But then something truly fantastic happened, out of the ordinary coming out: no one expected this. Growl menacingly, all five Dark children pounced on the monster, and the next second a heart-rending howl was heard throughout the forest. Moreover, there were plaintive notes in it. Then a cry was heard: "No!" The children seemed not to hear the words - they tore with claws and teeth. Apparently, they also got it from the madman once no less than I did.

"Kr-rr-rovi! Gorr-ryachey kr-rovi!" - Five creatures squealed. Apparently, the Archmage spent all his strength on me, so he could not resist. One of his kidneys was torn out, our entire trip to the village "X" was like the plot of the film "Brotherhood of the Wolf". There, in an English village, a creature also appeared. It was rampaging for quite a long time - until they shot it.

Finally, my saviors jumped aside. Two of them took their original form - a guy and a girl. Surprisingly, she was pregnant - about four months. The other three werewolves began to lick my wounds - quietly, very tenderly, softly and carefully. I was dumbfounded with surprise.

- I - I thought... that you were... bad, but in fact you are g... o... r.t. Thank you…

— You're lucky, Great One. We ended up here completely by accident — Chupacabra shows up here quite often. She hooked us with the Call, then dragged a pig carcass, left it in the bushes. Then she asked us to wait — she'd drag another carcass. We thought it was a cow. Starving, we ate it as expected, and then… Here comes the Most Serene One appears, tries to defeat SUCH a Dark One... In vain! I shouldn't have messed with him. Many of ours died like that.

- He raped my bride when she was twenty-five, and he... I still can't forgive him, since I found out about it! After all, every guy, every man wants his beloved to be untouched, a virgin…

- Mine too. - The young man put his hand on his friend's shoulder. - But she's carrying my child. How are you, Oleg? - He came up to her and touched her forehead.

- Fine, as long as he's alive... - I whispered, gasping for air. - And what about Chupacabra?

- Unconscious. Kostya broke the Law and started hunting his own. Having done this, he became the Supreme Dark One. Before that, he regularly drank the blood of virgins, then raped them when they were dying. We, werewolves,sometimes we watch this guy. Rarely, very rarely does he bring meat. Just to make amends. To pay off some insult. No one has done such lawlessness as now since the fifties! Now the son of a werewolf and Svetlaya will have to be tried and mercilessly killed.

- He's a savage and a maniac. - I added, trying to get up. - You certainly tore him apart powerfully…

- His mother told me: the reason for the rape was love that ended in disappointment. And it all started from there. And now, Your Grace, lie down for a bit, you're all wounded!

- Thanks again. Water... Please, water... I think I'm dying... Gods...

- You can't, the blood will flow faster!

The Dark Ones helped open a Portal beneath them, and I fell into the astral plane with their help, waking up on the floor of our house. All my clothes were torn to shreds, my pants were soaked through with blood, and there was a torn wound near my ear. I fell into a deep faint again. One thing is good: my left hand is healthy and I have been writing with both hands my whole life."


At the moment, Enerik is sleeping like a log, gathering strength. I went up to him and looked at the bandages. Not everyone can survive SUCH wounds. There was less blood — regeneration was in full swing. Apparently, when he first recovered, he wrote. His handwriting is amazing. He writes from right to left and from left to right — half of the text can be read with the help of a mirror. Our Celt got it… It was a shame to tell the bastard the truth!

Broken ribs, other bones, arm - nothing, they'll heal quickly! I'm closing the notebook. Yes... Two Higher Ones clashed. I'm an Inquisitor, I can safely punish all of Bratsk or the entire village! The little animals tore the criminal apart themselves - great! They tore him apart so well - the freak's mother cried for two days! She told everyone: her son got into a drunken brawl.Referring to the following - he was beaten by a crowd of Light Ones! Complete nonsense! A woman is a woman.

I leaf through the diary. It turns out that Gweld has also started to write his notes there. I read on... No, he is still a pagan, since he is a Celt! Enrique... I see. Enrique-Gweld the Celtic. Wasn't he the one who was said to be the greatest Archmage of all time?!


"THE SWORD OF THE EXILED ELF

(BRATSK)

...The rustling of wheels, the chatter of people, the conductor endlessly asking for the fare. All this surrounds me. At the same time it seems - amidst all this fuss it is quiet - you quietly fall asleep, but you can't fall asleep completely - the bus rocks, and I look out the window. Where forests and fields fly before my eyes. Sad,but beautiful at the same time. Quietly whispering to you about the silence and peace, the charm… the silence of the winter forest.

Here are the firs and pines, drowning in snowdrifts. Slender, beautiful, with cones and huge needles, the tops rest somewhere in the sky, and snow lies on their paws. Each pine is beautiful in its own way,like a young girl at her first ball. All the trees fly past, merging into a solid green and white stripe. You want to stop, drown in the snowdrifts - which in Bratsk are sometimes a meter and a half deep - raise your head, and look at the bottomless sky for a long, long time. It seems to swallow you. And if you look deeper into the forest, you might think that someone's shadows are wandering between the trees.

But no — I won’t be able to admire the Siberian nature — the bus takes me further and further. If you look from the side — it turns into a small dot, which then dissolves into the horizon. And again dead silence reigns in the depths of the enchanted forest. It sleeps… Sleeps, but lives its own life. Tired of its worries, it rests. I look out the window. The wind rises, tearing lumps of snow from the trees. It even became somehow scary. I wonder what will happen in the thicket? In a second? Here a frightened gray hare ran across the road, disappeared. Only traces remained... There is a forest all around - a road cuts through it, a sign flashed by - apparently a camp, or a sanatorium. I don't know.

Not far away is Angara village. It seems to me, a creature - an elf - that it is an example of eighteenth-century buildings. I had been there before, but for some reason I didn’t like it, although antiquity is everywhere. It seems that now the crows will begin to caw, people in caftans will go out into the street, start doing everyday things - some trade, some walk, and children laughing, sliding down the hills, wiping the snow off their cheeks. But everything is long gone, no one lives in the village. So what, I'm already at the Angara River. Even closer is the Bratsk Reservoir. The forest has ended. I'm driving past fields.

A few ears of corn near the road are swaying in the wind. They rise forlornly above the snow - motionless, like the sky above me, all of Siberia, the world too. Deep, gradually darkening, on whichthe clouds froze, from which little stars - snowflakes - fell. Everything around seemed to have died out - no one was visible: no people, no animals. Only the bus was driving along the snowy road, rustling its wheels. Life reigned inside it. And behind it - a trail running off into the horizon.

The Angara River goes on. Soon the car will stop - the village of Energetik is nearby. Then there are several more stops. People  enter or exit. At the same time, they look in amazement at the sword that hangs on my belt in a sheath, slightly touching the floor. A real blade - elven. They look with fear, thinking the following: "Isn't it a terrorist coming?" No, I am an elf - an exile. I look at the empty seats, at the people, when the doors close. I unbutton my sheepskin coat, take in my handsweapon, I sit down. Almost no one is left. I take off my hat from my head - a drop of sweat runs down my forehead. It's hot, my hair is disheveled, intercepted by a black ribbon.



 Far, far away, the ice begins. Clean, transparent, reliable. It even becomes scary! But this fear is beautiful! If you turn your head to the left, a great sight appears before your eyes - the Bratsk hydroelectric power station. I put the sword on my palm, took the cold weapon out of its sheath. The blade of darkness. Although it served me well - this thing does not like kind hands: it brings grief to anyone who takes it. Therefore I can't wear it anymore. The blade gleamed dully in the light of the winter sun, I brought it to my face. Eyes were reflected in the forged, shiny steel. "Well, have you waited for your time? Now we will say goodbye forever." And the reflection seemed to answer, and the voice of the steel rings: "I will serve you still, maybe you will postpone your plan?"



I looked at all this, looked, and became sad. I turned my head, glanced at the huge rock. The pale inscriptions on it were almost erased. It's a shame. The sun shines in the face, the blade in the hand shines like lightning. It hurts my eyes! Like the mystical Silmaril stone…

The water roars, but at the same time murmurs gently. As if nightingales are singing - myriads of droplets ring, like crystal - Music is born. In the distance I see a hydroelectric power station - menacing, scary, impregnable, like a fortress. Water runs off it in the form of foam. A roar can be heard far away. Too beautiful and frightening. I look at the Angara - its waters are black as night, because they are very deep. I climb up to the "bridge", above mountains of concrete hang over my head. It seems that they are about to collapse. I walk, looking at the workers, stunned with surprise, who are shovelling snow from the site. Someone called out to me, but did not look back.

I leaned on the handrails, looked down. Whirlpools are seething beneath me, swallowing snow and stones, and a furious wind knocks me off my feet. Still, through its roar, I can hear the gurgling of water, giving birth to words in an incomprehensible language. I watch. A tear rolled down my cheek, stayed on my skin for a second, and fell down. THE LAST TEAR IN SIBERIA.

It’s impossible to throw a blade at a low altitude. I’ll rise — higher…

High — high, at a terrible altitude (one hundred twenty-five meters), where only the icy wind sings, where cars rush along the highway — you stand next to wires and high voltage. Next to with a giant waterfall created by people, reality disappears from under your feet. Read carefully: under your feet is concrete, even lower - one hundred twenty-five meters - begins black, icy water, similar to an abyss, into which, it seems, you are about to fall. Not falling - it is impossible. If it is possible - then only when the handrails fall off. A completely unknown world opens up before you: everything is in the palm of your hand, the ribbon of the Angara River is not that big. Beautiful and great!

Gradually the sky turns purple, painting in beautiful colors. As if someone is painting a picture with a huge brush. Who is unknown. At the same time, a beautiful, shining golden disk touched the water. It begins to darken little by little. I looked at the falling water, which resembled cumulus clouds. Only the "clouds" seemed to have descended, formed a waterfall. Only the roar of falling water was heard. White foam. White foam, against which - a RAINBOW!

Barely - barely the last rays of the sun touched the Angara, I glanced at the sword. Shimmering like amber. I gripped the handle tightly, swung and threw the blade into the sea. It flashed like white lightning in the last rays, began to slowly fall, fall... Finally, the water swallowed him. Forever. And I do not regret it at all, he now rests on the bottom of the sea, - as a keepsake for you. A symbol of cruelty, torment in Bratsk, resentment, tears. All the bad stuff drowned. I will leave...

I walk to the bus stop. Behind me, the water and pine trees rustle, the lights sparkle, which are lit in the distance - her - some houses in Energetika. How distant fireflies. The driver is asleep in the chair - it's already eight o'clock in the evening."

Oh - oh!

How beautifully written! Great! But why IN MY DIARY?

Ah... Since I'm like a best friend and an Inquisitor - then I can read other people's notes. Okay, I won't tear out the pages - it's a pity.

I wonder if Irina knows about everything? Does she know that two Higher Ones have fought to the death over her? I put the half-written notebook aside and went outside. To my surprise, three werewolves — children — were grazing in the carrot and potato patch. One was digging up the remaining tubers, the other two were climbing into the raspberry patch to look for berries. Found! It looked funny: fleshy tails and the head of a jackal or lizard stick out of the bare bushes. Small, front paws with huge claws push the branches apart, long forked tongues tear off the fruits. Why did they come here?

Hungry times have come. Although…

I whistled. The animals turned their muzzles towards me and froze. Then two of them, shifting, retreated, jumping over the fence in huge leaps. And one jumped in my direction, stretching out his neck and shaking himself.

I smiled.

- Do you want to eat? Yes? Please, don't ruin our garden! Go somewhere else.

The creature wagged its tail in response. Blue eyes, just like a child. Why don't you feed the child?

- I'll bring it now, now... Sorry, I didn't think of it!

He went into the house, took two sticks of sausage and bread out of his bag. He cut off some more pork, wrapped it in a bag. He went out.

- Take it!

The lizards squealed happily. How can you squeal when something is sucking in your pit of your stomach! A small paw carefully took the food in the bag. A thin tongue licked his cheek - like "thank you". Long claws gently stroked his head. In response, he scratched the werewolf behind the ear.

- "Svertly, and s-svertly," the creature suddenly said, squinting its eyes, "and you know, Chupacabra... now for a long time everyone won't be terr-r-rized? We terr-r-rized it, protecting the Most Serene...

Exactly! These are Enrique's saviors!

- Is it dying?

The creature shook its head in denial.

- Why did you pull out the kidneys?

- We were protecting Oleg. That creature tore him so much that we had to help defend ourselves. - The werewolf answered in a barking voice.

Not bad kids growing up! Very good indeed! If we had the same order in Moscow — what a world it would be! Blessings! No, this won't work for the capital. THIS can happen here. Nowhere else! DARK MAGES AND WEREWOLVES ARE BITTING THEIR OWN! NOT ALL OF THEM, OF COURSE — but those who cause trouble. Still, it's great — in "X"there is such a hierarchy. Only Gellemar is unable to calm down!

Gweld too, in a way. He wrote the story of the fight in my notebook very well. The Great One almost died - at the hands of his godson, and received the deepest emotional trauma. He will probably not recover soon. In soul, that is. According to the count, this is the second such case with him in Siberia. I have already told about the first. Perhaps Enerik's notes in my diary about the elf are in fact an echo of those events that people do not know about. And now - Chupacabra. Which is dying.

- You saved Enerik from death.

- Yes. - The creature nodded. - We came to visit him.

— Alive. — I smiled. But my heart told me — it wasn't the end yet.

Well, the Dark Ones were so fed up with the Higher Darkness — they had to tear the culprit apart! As a rule, children were the first to snap. Of course, their nervous system is more vulnerable. But what about teenagers or adults?

- If the creature starts tearing you apart further, tear it apart completely. And regardless of whether its mother wants it or not. How long has Gellemar been killing?

- A long time.

- Oleg is sleeping. I'll tell him when he comes to.

The three creatures left with huge leaps.

M — yes... If Gallemard were a man, and his kidneys were torn out — one — he would die. Or he would no longer suffer from stones in this organ.

Not far away there was a gurgling sound: Elena Dmitrievna or someone else forgot to turn off the tap. There was dirt stuck to my sneakers. I picked up a stick and started to clean it off, closing the pipe. It got warmer outside, but the clouds did not think of dispersing: on the contrary, there were many more of them. Suddenly, from one small cloud, a white beam struck the water of the Oka - so bright - it hurt my eyes. It shone for a couple of minutes, then disappeared. And the river seemed to be boiling. My soul became unbearably painful.

The clock still stopped.

Five sunflowers bowed their heads in the neighboring garden bed. They rustled pines and birches, the latter almost bare. In the distance, a rowan tree turns red with heavy bunches of berries. Nearby, chokeberry bushes. What else should I see? A!

A C A R K!

Quickly, using the Portal, I moved to the garage. It was torn apart, all the insides were torn out, the gas tank was punctured, it smelled of gasoline. It was immediately clear WHO did it. Gallemar... Bastard... I wonder, — what is he hoping for?

Approaching the house, I heard from the street that someone was rummaging around there. Taking the baton, loaded in Bratsk, from my belt, I carefully, like a killer, slipped inside.

No danger: Enerik wanted to drink, reached for the decanter standing next to the bed on the nightstand, accidentally broke it with his healthy hand. He couldn't get up: the wounds hadn't completely healed.

- How are you, Ener?

- Better. Who was jumping under the windows? Then you reached into the bag with groceries, took something, and talked to someone... - the boss said.

- It was the CHILDREN who came, they wanted to eat.

- What children?! They are not here!

- No, they are not. Werewolves who tore out the kidneys. They asked if Oleg Arensky was alive. I gave them something to eat - that should be enough. The liver was probably not enough then.

- These are teenagers and almost adult Dark Ones... - the Celt raised his head with difficulty, but immediately lowered it onto the pillow. - I can't: it hurts terribly, my eyes are darkening, I'm seeing double.

— That fight should be more than enough for our degenerate. Anna, they say, when she saw her son on the stretcher, she fainted into the arms of two werewolves. There was a sea of Kostya's blood — all black and stinking, but his face was now unrecognizable. The whole village was in shock. Now no one goes to that vampire. They decide. What a cute godson you have! Oh, he's cute…

- Don't lecture the scientist. - Gweld snapped. - I already know - he's a nobody to me. A rare brute. Everyone doesn't give a damn about our opinion, right? For example, I don't give a damn about this god-knows-who, so let them not twitch! Savages, damn it...

- I see, but here, to be honest, it's much better than in Bratsk. - I handed him some analgin. - This scumbag must have extremely serious reasons to break the Oath!

— What the…

— Forgot? In "X" they don't compete with each other.

— Ah… Oh, damn, how my insides twist! I wonder if the Chupacabra's intestines twist? If so, then he doesn't feel pain: the body is dead. But there are also living werewolves. Who reproduce sexually themselves. — Enerik nodded again, smiling warmly.But his eyes looked at me sternly. The black eye and swelling under the eye began to go away, the eyelid could now open and see.

- It's okay, you'll get better! How's your hand?

- It's healing. The eye too. Maxim, I beg you: don't let Gellemar get close to our house, don't tell Ira anything. Otherwise... - his healthy hand squeezed my wrist. The Celtic man pushed his light hair away from his face with his healthy hand and closed his eyelids. He needs to rest. It's drizzling outside. It's disgusting and nasty in my soul.

Kostya - Alushkin came! He just shook his head, looking at Oleg:


— Even I can't break it off like that.

He wished for a speedy recovery, left a jar of potion on the table and left.

Elena brewed a decoction and gave it to Arensky to drink. It helped — his cheeks turned red. I also fell asleep — there were energetic vampires nearby, so I had almost no strength.

In the evening I woke up and added to my notebook:

"What do you want? Day and night

About you, for you - oh, free me!

Expectation is already squeezing the arrogance

From the last vertebra.

Dim, disgusting: revived relics -

Reflection. And thunders in the chest

A terrible roar: why? And in response - he is here.

He is on the tip of the tongue.

It is stupid and too late for me to resist - you

Will squeeze the truth in with force.

With each sob the hatred grows stronger:

Sweeter, stronger, more stifling, more painful.

I will not believe what is realized!

My throat wheezes in anger like a fiery ball.

I can’t escape from this damned love anywhere -

Neither on this earth nor under it.”

And here's another one - a message to those romantics who stick their nose into this notebook without asking. All sorts of nonsense just creeps into my head. And while no one is around - I'll free my brain from the burden, I'll write an Essay I'll tell you why I can't stand teenage parties, why I left them long ago, having quarreled with everyone.

«SUN

(Essay)

1

Do you want me to tell you about your future, little non-human? Four years from now, when you turn twenty and become (I'm sure of it) a seasoned party animal, a "local landmark", known to everyone, respected, and maybe even adored - you won't change in appearance at all.


You warm everyone. Only now you give them the flame of your soul, your heart (well, just like Danko!), then later, after a while, you will do it out of habit - not even your own... Yes, you will improve in many ways. You will draw and write even better - these creations will begin to arouse admiration in the crowd. You know - people love talented people. Now you are still a younger generation,but with time new ones will grow up - and you, as a "veteran", will start communicating with them. Oh, how they will love you! You will behave easily with them, joke, be vulgar, be familiar and laugh yourself.

But do you know what you will start to feel? THERE, IN THE VERY DEPTHS OF YOUR SOUL, you will seem very old, tired, empty. You will burn yourself out prematurely - having given all your best to the Crowd for use - it will take you with great joy, warm you up, but give you nothing in return. YOU WILL BE IN HURT. No one will even want to know the Real You. YOU WILL FEEL CRAPPY.Of course, no one will notice this - and for a long time - you have long learned to wear masks. You will get tired, you will be tired - but the image has already been created, betrayal will not be forgiven here. They will demand warmth and light from you - persistently, without delay. You probably just do not understand this now. When I say this - you will get angry, but I do not expect another reaction.

You ask why I think so? You are not the only one - I have known such people before...

2

A huge, crimson-red Sun slowly sinks into the cool waves of the Gulf. Blood spills everywhere, but the enthusiastic people are still standing on the sandy shore. Their faces are covered with copper, but they stretch their hands up - catching the heat. One they cannot cope with the Night, but they know: tomorrow the Sun will rise again. The luminary is so tired, it cries hot tears, but the people on the shore are waiting. And it will return tomorrow. It no longer belongs to itself, it no longer remembers that Dawn of the World, when it, young and cheerful, so enjoyed every morning illuminating the huge ferns, the sparkling backs of long-vanished animals... It does not need people at all,
but they can’t live without it. And the old Sun rises above the Earth again and again”…

The head falls onto the chest, and the fingers can no longer hold the pen. It falls out, rolling somewhere under the table…

I’m sitting, smoking. Blue smoke is flying above the ceiling. The ashtray is empty, the pack of “Peter 1” cigarettes is open, I take out the second cigarette and click the lighter. Smoke is probably coming out of my ears now. It smells like a decoction from nettles, the aroma sobers me up a bit. It's stronger than tobacco. I'm too high. What should I do, Light One? Okay, that's enough for today...

September 17

During the day…

I think...

About summer. Do you know what summer smells like? It can smell like a hot afternoon with a hint of dust or wild flowers, grass and a railroad. And summer also smells like the sun, the azure sky and snow-white clouds.

I think...

About how sometimes it's sad in the evenings, and you look at the sunset with longing, feeling how together with the setting sun a part of you disappears somewhere. And how nice it is on such evenings to sit in the company of friends over a cup of tea - with the taste of strawberries and cream, or to sing something...

I think...

About the little joys that illuminate our lives. Once I was walking home in Moscow in early April, and suddenly I noticed a yellow flower. Mother-and-Stepmother! I felt: my face was blurring in a good-natured smile. People pass by, looking at me in surprise, and I stand there, unable to tear my eyes away from the sunny inflorescence. And spring blooms in my soul.

I think...

About the sometimes boring world that surrounds me. About how I hide from it behind a haze of lilac dreams. I wonder if this is harmful or is it useful to hide from reality? ... And in the eyes sparkles of the setting sun.

The weather does not change, Enrique sleeps. Sleepy silence. The rain lashes. I went out the door onto the porch, exposed my face to the cold streams of water... Gweld is getting better and better. We talked about love and infatuation. Why exactly she was chosen is unclear. And from the Dark Side of the invisible World a barely audible voice is heard:

"Am I cold? I am cold. The one who could warm me, has renounced me. Do I feel empty? I do. The one who could complete me, has renounced me. Do I hate? No, I do not hate. The one whom I could hate, has renounced me."

It's clear who it is.

I'm devastated...

There's a knock at the door. Elena opens it. Irina... With a first aid kit and flowers. Oh - oh - oh! Then Kostya Alushkin and Ira's brother Alexander came again. But I didn't care - I was racking my brains trying to figure out how to get out of here.

September 19th. Day

I saw Gellemar on the street. He's restored, the beast! He's missing one finger on his hand - bitten off. Seeing me and Yegor, the Supreme Vampire turned away, went to the well with a bucket for water. He's limping, his face is a little blue. Of course!

Valera, Yegor and I went to the flying saucer that I discovered on the eighth. It's strange - someone had smashed it, as if they were trying to get in. The radiation from it is still coming out, and that's why my head hurts again. Strange traces appeared from the UFO wreckage - in the form of webbed paws. We went further and discovered something terrible -EGG SHELLS the size of a child's head. Someone is reproducing here!

They brought them to the boss. He said: frogs lay eggs. This made me sick. Although I immediately thought about them. Mutation. A terrible mutation that could never have happened under normal conditions. But here, in the anomalous zone, nature had a different The sea buckthorn is very large - the size of a thumbnail. Tasteless, and the leaves are as long as a pencil.

As for the Chupacabra, he doesn't have long to live - rarely does someone survive whose insides are torn. He dies slowly. Gweld, meanwhile, decided to conduct an experiment - he asked Anna blood, saliva and sperm of the son for analysis. They got everything, Gellemar's mother was walking around all twitchy. As if she accidentally revealed a terrible secret to a stranger. They had to take her blood for analysis too. What happened?

The results stunned everyone.

It turned out that in her youth (as she later told herself) in the forest she was attacked by humanoids who forcibly injected her an unknown nastiness into the stomach area. Not only that, but they raped him, and the consequences of this were imprinted on him forever. In the future, the mutated genes were passed from mother to son. In short, telegony occurred - the child was born from a werewolf not only Dark, but in a sense a descendant of the rapists. The woman realized this when her son transformed into a wolf cub for the first time -
at six years old. But the animal's muzzle became very elongated, and its huge, oval black eyes took up almost its entire head. The skin was blue, not pink.

That's how those genes came out. After Gallemar became a vampire, he did not lose his ability to transform. This family heredity turned out to be of an unknown type, and it is very good that Kostya's father left. Anna has been unmarried since then - it is unknown what kind of offspring would have been born later. But the poor woman is not to blame! That's how it turned out in life.

The blood of both was seething under the microscope. Leukocytes were dividing into two daughter cells, a minute later the process was repeated. If In America they discovered bird flu, - then in Russia, in the Irkutsk region, they found descendants of aliens and irradiated victims of radiation. And abroad, in some institute, they found out: if you cross two types of flu - human and bird, you get a microbe - a monster, against which there is no medicine on the planet.

The same thing happened in "X": the genes of ours and the blood of one were crossed with the genes of humanoids in the thirties-fifties: it was at that time that flying saucers crashed very often. Another version arose as to why there are few Light and many Dark: so as not to breed mutants. I wonder how many more options there are? Yes Darkness! One thing intertwines with another.

Gellemar, having become a vampire, first drank bird blood - he killed the chickens that lived with his mother, and when he had exterminated them all, he began to hunt larger game. Next came his own. He often confessed to his mother: when you are in the form of a beast, your head is completely different works. There were times when the unfortunate woman locked her son in an empty chicken coop, tying him hand and foot. The measure either helped or it didn't. Sometimes Svetlaya, unable to bear it, ran after the werewolf with an axe. And then, coming home, she prayed for the salvation of her soul. Now - that's it, the limit.

Both Yegor and Beregond said this. Sometimes they were offended by the boss, saying:

- Why didn't you call us?!

- I wanted to, but I didn't have the strength.

- Now it's all over: Chupacabra is dying.

- He died a long time ago. The body is falling apart. - The Celt answered, moving the fingers of his right hand - they recovered quite quickly. - What surprises me is something else: why did the bastard destroy my car?!

— To take revenge. Wanted us to stay forever. — I suggested, sipping milk from a jug, blowing off the foam… I chewed on cranberries mixed with sugar. Delicious. I want beer, but there is none here.

— Max, you are our Judge, Inquisitor. Decide.

I scratched my emerging mustache:

— We still decided to send him to his forefathers forever. After all, you, Celt, did not come here to have fun, but to find and neutralize shit, right?

— Yes. The letter I received that day — when I sent you on vacation — said: a mutant — Dark One — is walking around this village, asking for help. Why did they turn to me? Many years ago, I helped the Dark with goodness and advice. At first I decided: Chupacabra is a small animal like Cheburashka, we'll catch it without problems... It turned out not to be.

- It turned out to be a nice little animal - it tore you apart! - Beregond answered. - It tore you apart so much that you almost died! What the... go to the meeting?! He knew what a fight would happen!

- He knew. Otherwise, it would have been even worse for the villagers. Who, if not the Light Ones, should clean up the aftermath of the Dark Ones' antics! This has been going on for hundreds of years. This village is an exception to all the rules.

— Enerik, doesn’t something else seem strange to you? You left here silently, as you said. You didn’t tell anyone where you were. So that they wouldn’t bother you, so that they wouldn’t look for you. But the letter DID reach the addressee. How? HOW did they find you after so many years? It’s impossible… On the one hand. On the other hand, if I didn’t understand something there, the same girl could have brought it to me. Plus, letters can’t reach from here the way they do now: you type the address into the Internet and sent it by e-mail. There was a lot I didn't like here. There was no return address, no name of the city. And the Mages and vampires and werewolves are strange here. Why? There's a catch! - I started to think logically. It turned out exactly like that. Of course, the children could have reported where and in which direction Oleg had gone.

There is a complete mutation here, so we need to get out of here as soon as possible! We have friends - two Alexanders: a human and a vampire, one girl and guys - the Dark, Anna, Kostya. Not bad! So let's add them to our operation! Everyone will agree. And the monster's mother must prepare herself psychologically. We will kill her child.

That's how life was wasted. I ruined it for myself - it's time to pay. I could have found myself a bride - a witch, married her long ago. Unfortunately, time is hopelessly lost.

- What are we going to do? Enerik?

— We MUST NOT leave this monster alive… — he sighed. Interesting behavior for a godfather! Fortunately, I can understand.

I was sitting on the porch with Yegor, we were gnawing apples. Still sour, but tasty. It was cold. The wind blew right through our thin jackets. Then Irina's brother came, the three of us started drinking milk. It would be a shame tomorrow to see him sour: a thunderstorm at night. The air is filled with freshness, you want to breathe and breathe... Here is someone else sitting down. The boss. His hand has almost healed. But his head is still bandaged. As the Celt himself admits - he only has to turn his eyes back and forth - a ringing rises and a flash of pain appears. Concussion…

- How are you, Ene... Oleg?

- Fine. The ribs seem to be healing, but I can't bend over yet. Otherwise, I'll puncture my lungs. How are you?

- Fighting. - I responded, adjusting my collar. I took out a comb and combed my hair.

- I'LL KILL HIM. - Enrique suddenly said - Gweld.

- What? - Yegor asked very quietly.

- I'll kill Kuskov.

- And don't you feel sorry? - Alushkin asked, passing by, having heard the last words. His face immediately lit up with a smile.


- You dare to raise your hand against your godson, despite his mother's opposition? Is that true?

- True. I'll kill him personally. He must die. And I don't give a damn about maternal instinct.

- Anna ran after her son with an axe when he became a monster.

- I know, Kostya.

- Poor thing! - Yegor sighed.

- Yes... She's suffered a lot from him for twenty years... We need to help.

- Alushkin, why are you surprised: when this Gellemar destroyed your beloved, you also wanted to kill him? - I asked.

— Uh... yeah. Just... Suddenly... — the vampire hesitated. — What's that you've grown?

He glanced at the garden: five giant pumpkins and three zucchini a meter long were there. The owner, jingling her keys, went to the garage for an axe. She brought it out and started chopping off the stalk. I looked at her in shock and went up to the woman to help. I chopped one pumpkin into pieces,
put it in a bucket and carried it to the cellar. He was thinking to himself: "Lena, how do you cope with all this work, alone? I wonder if your son helps? He must." Yes, everything is growing rapidly: the vegetables are huge, especially the potatoes. The zucchini can only be cut with a saw - the skin is too hard.

Tomatoes ripen surprisingly quickly. Cucumbers are gigantic - as big as your hand. Both long and thick. To pickle them, you have to cut them into pieces. Laugh - laugh, I'm not lying. If there are butterflies the size of an eagle here, then what can we say about the rest? We've already seen frogs, nuthatches too, and monster lizards. I'll have to catch one of those insect, dry it and make a picture. Or a grasshopper...

Oh, these grasshoppers... The locusts are the size of a hand, even bigger! They jump fifteen meters and further, but they don't chirp well. Even these orthoptera have gigantic eyes: they can see the whole head, black ones! If aliens experiment with people, then why torture insects?! And ours?! Out of curiosity, apparently, nothing more. Under normal conditions, superinsects die. Interesting.

Having dragged the pumpkin into the basement, he returned to the porch. Valera was smoking. Enrique was not on the porch. He went home.

- We have guests. - He said gloomily.

- Who? - I was taken aback. It seemed like no one was supposed to come. In such a freezing cold.

- You know who. Irka. Came to see her mother for pills and a decoction.

- Why?

- A stupid head won't let his legs rest. Who the hell knows who suggested playing with whom... - He frowned. - That's all we needed... Bastard... He stuck it in her. You can see for yourself - it's a mess.

He did THIS after all... My jaw dropped:

- P R E N G E N T?!

- Exactly. She got scared. At home she ate too many mushrooms and cucumbers, and now she doesn’t know what to do next. You can’t have an abortion during your first pregnancy. She feels sick at night, has dark circles under her eyes, and faints. She’s afraid to give birth. - Svetly muttered, taking a drag. - In short, it’s crap. We’re not people, our semen is more powerful and gets to the baby faster.to the goal. I sympathize with him.

Oh, Enerik! Even if you are Ultra-Great, you are actually a fool in love affairs. What a loser! There is nothing else to do! You need to use protection during sex! Now we will never leave here. I collected all the curse words I knew in my head.

- What are they doing?

- Talking.

- So what?

- Glad - really glad! - The guy threw his cigarette into the bucket. - So he could.

- Yes, I could... - I sighed disappointedly, asked for a smoke. - That's why I hate youth. I can do it too, but I control myself. Better porn. Than fucking a woman I barely know!

Ten minutes later, Elena joined us.

- My daughter is expecting a child. I hope he will be Light. I'm happy. Oleg is great.

— And we are not very. — Beregond declared, frowning.

— Too bad. Because there is no girl who loves children! We need to have children right away, while we can. Otherwise, there is no way! Age!

— Your daughter is also old — almost forty, but she looks like she is nineteen! There is no need to lecture me here! I will sort out my life myself,No offense. Oleg will get some shit from his actions, I swear! - I couldn't take it anymore. Why is this woman butting in where it's none of her business?!

At that moment, a happy Celt's cry came from the room:

- HOORAY - A-A!!!


September 20th

Day of the week: who knows

Time: I think it's eleven in the morning... I think so


I woke up from the shouts: “Get him! Get him!” I pulled up my pants, pulled back the curtain. Dozens of them, Dark and Light, were hurrying somewhere. I opened the door a little, yawned. I looked at what was happening through the astral plane: in the yard on the road, a black, disgusting big ball was rushing back and forth, consisting of a dozen werewolves, vampires. And, like managed to notice nine of them tearing one with their claws and teeth. Squeals, screams, howls... Pieces of clothing, flesh, bloody splashes flew in all directions. Then the lump gradually broke up into a circle, in the middle of which a figure was lying.

A man.

One of the Dark Ones came closer, kicked him hard:

— For my bride, you monster!

I came closer to understand what had happened. Kostya was standing next to his namesake, finishing him off with his feet. One of his friends grabbed him and dragged him away with difficulty. I immediately understood who it was: the vampire Alexander. Indeed, Gellemar had driven everyone crazy. Well, it’s no wonder that the whole village was beating him. Well, not quite the whole village.

- You'll answer for my little sister, Chupacabra! - Kostya kicked the werewolf heartily, wiping the blood from his nose.

We've come to this: Dark Ones attacking Dark Ones! This needs to be filmed, needs to be seen: Dark Ones saving one of their own from another! Apparently, an hour ago the freak ran into his namesake, and they got into a fight. It was impossible not to notice the fight!

- The Inquisition is already here! - I called out to everyone.

- Let's throw him into the Oka - let him die! The fish will quickly eat him there!

- You should have your conscience: you have an enviable family! The godfather is the Most Serene Magician! What the... did you tear him apart at the meeting?!

- You got what you deserved, bastard!

Alexander looked back and was happy:

- Oh! Great, Max! Just in time: we're tearing up Chupacabra for the second time. How's Enerik?

- He's feeling great.

- And... how's Ira?

- Well... later.

The vampire smiled, but his kind smile turned out mocking. His fangs had already cut through. Sanya wanted blood. The Light Ones were standing nearby, and in front of everyone was his mother with tears in her eyes. She had disgraced herself in front of the whole village.

"Just don't rip out his liver, okay?" I asked.

- That's not enough, Svetoch, - they shouted from the crowd, - he must be killed! You heard, - you are the Judge, so judge according to the law!

- I have already made a decision: the death sentence for illegal hunting. There is, however, a mitigating punishment: for fifty years, none of our people or our people are to be deprived of life!

The beaten man hissed angrily.

"What was the reason for the fight?" I asked.

"He was the first to start it..." Gallemar hissed, pointing his finger at his namesake. "The first..." He was missing one fang, making an interesting grin. I looked at Alushkin:

"Is that true?"

- He's lying, the bastard... He threatened my sister...

- I see. Why did he gut my car?!

He's silent. And suddenly:

- The head thinks completely differently when the body changes... - he whined pitifully, pressing on pity.

Wow! And what do you, creature, want to express with such emotions? I took off my shirt, ordered the creature to look at my chest through the invisible World. There was an inquisitorial mark. The Chupacabra's eyes widened in amazement, his mouth dropped open.

- What the hell?

- I am the ruler! You are under arrest, subject to destruction.

- What nonsense... - he babbled.

I raised my hand - and in the astral plane the Power flowed from the monster to me. I felt my chest begin to burn with my signs - they are Light! I clenched my teeth until they crunched. Yes, the transfer of energy that opposes the Light is unbearably painful. As if thousands of daggers were pierced at once into your body. Then it became easier. The darkness settled in, spread through the veins, was absorbed into every cell... From now on, I can calmly destroy the most powerful spells that bring death. Having downloaded EVERYTHING from the criminal.

There was silence. Gallemar, who had barely stood up, fell on one knee, unable to resist. He folded his arms on his chest in a cross, obeying. Then a cry rang out:

- Don't believe it, Judge! He's bluffing!

I lowered my hand, having drunk the Power of the Chupacabra to the last drop. Everything inside me was burning.

- So, Kostya Kuskov, - I said calmly, holding out my other hand, - I ask you to swear not to torture...

- I can't make such oaths. - The Dark One whispered, looking at me with his blue eyes. Naive, childish.

- You can do it... - the Dark Ones hissed...

- Give me your amulet. - I asked.

The Dark One lowered his head to his chest, hiding it in this way.

- Amulet. - I repeated.

Zero reaction.

- Amulet.

- Give it to me, the Inquisitor won't repeat it again! - Enerik's voice rang out. Chupacabra's eyes flashed with an unkind fire, and he handed over the magic artifact. - I'm the same Inquisitor as he is, you crazy bitch! Shave you with a magic arc? So that your brains will fall into place?

- That's a clever girl... - we praised. - And now you'll go to the astral nav…

And then... Kostya Kuskov turned out to be incredibly fast. His graceful hand crashed into my jaw. But I was on guard, and gave him a good, hearty punch in return. Staggering, the criminal took a quick look at everyone, and ran. While running, he tried to get into the invisible space - but it didn't work. Howling pitifully, he rushed into the forest. I and Enerik - after him. The man tried to disappear - it didn't work. We waited: he would start to transform into a monster, but it didn't happen.

- I drained him almost to the bottom. Jumped too much. He's finished. - I smiled at the boss.

Near the cliff where Enerik and Ira stood, Kostya stopped. I took a step towards him, but the freak shouted:

— Stop! Don't come any closer! I'm not joking: I'll tear both of you to death!

Gweld took vodka out of his bag and unscrewed the cap. He shook the bottle, poured some of the liquid under his feet, creating a line.

- Do you want a drink? We talked about everything recently. Was the torn out kidney not enough? Oh, how little! The burned face too. It healed, but now it will hurt again! Very badly. Surrender! Or I will kill you. You will not defeat me again, and Max too!

The vampire-werewolf took a step back. He was shaking. The archmage stepped forward.

- Do you really want to kill me? - He asked with a smile. -Come on!

The boss spread his arms out to the sides, as if he was going to hug her. He took a sip of vodka.

- You have done much evil, godson.

- So what?

- The limit has been reached. Anna no longer wants to know you as a son. Wake up, and you will live!

- Indeed. Although for attacking the Light Archmage you should die. Or I'll hang a hundred years' punishment on you! In general, I propose peace. - I said and took a step forward, pouring vodka on my feet.

- M - peace? - The savage raised his eyebrows in amazement and took a step back.

- Yes. No one bothers you, you don't offend anyone. Doesn't that suit you?

He was silent. Tension was growing inside him, he was about to pounce.

Chupacabra didn't dare approach us - the line was in the way. The Chief came up almost right next to us, not afraid of anything at all. He extended his hand:

- Peace?

The Dark One's nerves gave out. Gellemar jumped back. More from the smell of alcohol. This turned out to be his last step - he stumbled, his foot slipped on crumbling stones, and a cloud of dust rose into the air. He fell! Not quite - Enerik managed to grab him, not letting him fall.

- I'll pull you out, give me your other hand!

Gallemare's eyes widened, either from fear or surprise, and he whispered:

- No... Let go.

- Give me your other hand! Mac, help!

I didn't move: my pity for this vile creature had disappeared.

- No need, Oleg! - I shouted.

- Give me your other hand! - The Celt continued to insist, but he dug in his heels:

- Let go... I don't want to... I don't want to kill you! You and your friend pumped EVERYTHING out!

The chief's hand was sweating - the monster's fingers began to unclench, the hand to slip. One finger, then the second. Probably, Kuskov's whole life was flashing before his eyes, and this is very scary. Apparently, fear paralyzed his will. The hands unclenched, and the Supreme Dark One, opening his eyes wide, fell like a stone down into the abyss.His heart couldn't take it, it burst. The Light One sighed and sent the body into astral projections, not letting the corpse hit the ground. The Oka was making a menacing noise.

"Don't grieve, Ener. He got what he deserved." Beregond said at dinner.

"I feel sorry for Anna. There are some advantages, too - Irina will give birth to a son or a daughter for me - nine months left. I'll have to take her to the city as a precaution.

We all shook our heads: to fall in love in twenty days and then have a baby is an incredible stupidity.

- She is one of ours. So I will turn her to the Light, and I will not lose a creature dear to me again. - The Celt beamed.

I began to swallow vodka from the bottle from shock. Mom, give birth to me again!

— Get to know her better first… — Valyuk chuckled, biting into a juicy, sweet pumpkin, spitting out the seeds. The boss stood up, raised his glass:

— Let's remember Kostya — Gellemar, may the earth or the world of his forefathers be soft to him. Or concrete. The latter is better.

The vampire, the namesake of the deceased, nodded. There was sadness in his eyes. It seemed he felt sorry for his relative. Chupacabra died on the Oka. I really hope that such chaos that he \ she did here \ a will not happen again. Everyone ate sweet, juicy pumpkin, rejoicing. There was a knock on the door. Anna. Her eyes were swollen from tears, she barely managed to squeeze out a smile: of course - her son died!

- Sit down, Anya. - The Archmage said, moving a chair to the table. We only just now noticed the empty, extra plate on the table.

- You did everything right. I wanted to end this for a long time, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't see him killing, causing chaos. Now I'm afraid for Irina. What if complications or telegony pop up?

- Oleg, I don't want to offend you. Take care of my daughter.

- Definitely. Where would I go?

There was another knock at the door: the five-handed man who had saved the Celt from death had arrived. The girl had put on weight recently: probably a kilogram. She wore loose clothes so as not to put pressure on her stomach. Her chosen one was carefully stroking the cradle of humanity, and not only humanity!

- Yeah... Just a little more... It's kicking!

- Soon it will be like that for us too. - Oleg Arensky smiled. - When the baby is born, I will come again. I promise! Do you agree?

The five werewolves nodded. Suddenly my watch unexpectedly beeped: "Twenty-two hours, eight minutes, nineteen seconds. Thank you, goodbye." I almost choked on my tea! Anna's eyes widened in amazement.

— The village clock stopped on the day he was born! When Oleg delivered the baby!

— There was a powerful release of negativity. Technology usually reacts like that. — I explained, clearing the dishes from the table. — And now Chupacabra is dead.

The handsome man went into the room and threw a warm blanket over Irina's shoulders. There was a draft from the window.

"I hope everything will be fine in the next twenty-six years!" Ira's brother chuckled. A man.

The guests left at one o'clock in the morning. I'm finishing writing for today.

September 21

We were harvesting the remaining crop, working tirelessly from morning to evening.

September 22

We were packing our things. Elena Dmitrievna asks us to stay, but our vacation is ending!

September twenty-third

We said goodbye to our friends, Kostya and two Alexanders asked to visit. Having found out that our car had turned into shit, two vampires got hold of a truck, put everyone in the back, drove around "X", and that was the end of the vacation. We're leaving tomorrow at five in the morning.

September twenty-fourth. Four o'clock in the morning

I don't remember anything, only that I woke up on the shoulder of the boss, who was holding the steering wheel. Through the darkness, across the horizon, a song can be heard.

02/24/2005 Bratsk,

23-15.

Written to "Vangeles" and written wherever possible: at home and in the cloakroom at work.