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Particularly striking was the canvas depicting a knight on a black horse. It seemed alive, its gaze fixed directly on me. Suddenly, the rider appeared to recognize me, jumped off the horse, and bowed deeply, as in ancient tales. In astonishment, I stopped blinking, managing only to stammer that it wasn’t necessary.
– You must have mistaken me for someone else! – I stammered, feeling the crimson flush ignite on my cheeks, as if betraying my composure before this impassive knight.
A few more agonizing moments passed, and the rider was already seated on the horse, as if he had never left the saddle.
And then I asked myself the question: what is actually happening? Why do they address me in the formal ‘you’ and treat me with such honors, as if I were of royal blood?
While I was enchantingly wandering my gaze around the strange decor of the room, I caught a distant muted roar, as if an invisible waterfall was crashing down somewhere. Could this be just a trick of my imagination? Forgetting about the examination, I froze, cautiously listening, trying to catch the elusive echoes of the element.
– What aquarium, let alone a waterfall… in this cramped little cell? – I murmured almost soundlessly.
Despite the tight space, I managed to look around, although with some difficulty. Having taken a few timid steps toward the enticing sound, anticipating the promised aquarium behind the carved door, I stumbled upon a miniature crystal washbasin. From its wide tap, as if challenging gravity, water was slowly flowing… upwards! Rays of light, timidly making their way through the stained glass window and reflecting off the facets of the antique chandelier, scattered into a myriad of sparks on the ascending streams, creating the illusion of a magical dance. It seemed as if the water, obeying an unseen music, was performing its spring ritual. Enchanted by this wonderful sight, I was ready to dance my way in search of the aquarium, but suddenly came to my senses, drawn by the strangeness of the tap, and froze in hesitation.
As expected, there was no aquarium or even a hint of a waterfall. Taking a step toward the door, I noticed a narrow crack under the chest of drawers on which the washbasin stood.
– What an interesting purpose this gap has, especially under the dresser! – I thought.
A fresh breeze wafted from under the sink, and a few cool drops touched my hand. I immediately bent down to look into the gap.
The opening turned out to be so narrow that it was impossible to see anything. The wind blowing from under the sink pleasantly refreshed my skin. There were almost no splashes, but a faint scent of freshness lingered in the air. After long and futile efforts to move the stubborn dresser, I, not noticing the treacherous handles on the sides, hit my forehead hard on one of them. It is unknown how long I would have lain on the floor, but finally, through the haze of pain and dizziness, I managed to open my eyes.
My eyelids were heavy, pain throbbed in my head, and the huge bump that had appeared on my forehead persistently reminded me that I was once again doing something nobody asked me to do!
– And the squirrel? The envelope? The aquarium?! What is all this?! – forgetting for a moment about the pulsating pain, as if driving away the hallucination, she slapped her palm against the unfortunate bump once more.
Surely every person is familiar with that unpleasant feeling when it can be unbearably painful!
I reached for the crack again. But strangely, it was no longer there. As if scared off by my curiosity, it disappeared. Just recently, a breeze was blowing from there and droplets of water were scattering around?
– What if, while I was under the influence of unconsciousness, someone visited here? – that thought, like a shard of ice, pierced my mind.
But there was no one nearby. Not a single sign of anyone’s presence during my brief sleep. The squirrel, apparently, did not dare to enter, or maybe it didn’t even need to be here! No one responded to my calls, and I decided to leave this strange, albeit beautiful, room.
As I made my way to the door, I noticed two orange lampshades standing by the table, which was covered with a snowy white tablecloth. The table was empty, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been here. The lampshades were lit, despite it being broad daylight. And then I thought that perhaps uninvited guests had visited this little room while I was lost in thought.
“But who were they and what did they want? Most likely, that will remain a mystery, as it’s unlikely that anyone will tell me about it!” – I thought to myself, and the urge to reach for my forehead overcame me once again.
I remembered what it had cost me last time, and I stopped. A slight smile touched my lips…
– And yet, one shouldn’t make the same mistake twice, causing oneself pain! – I thought, involuntarily saying it out loud.
I approached the door with a calm heart. Perhaps there were suspicions and fears that someone had found out about the letter and my visit here, but since there was no one around, I decided not to think about it. The moments mentioned in the letter had been fulfilled by me!
Everything that had happened some time ago seemed strange, and this time the door opened by itself before I even had time to think about it. In a moment, bright sunlight blinded me, and I found myself outside.
It was easier for me to breathe than in the den, where I felt as if in shackles, where so many strange events had occurred some time ago, leaving me with a headache even now.
Chapter 3.
Unfolding secrets
The next day, the very space seemed to have gone mad. The unstable, capricious weather was reflected in Anna’s health as well. Confusion and quiet sadness enveloped her like a gray blanket. This day brought no joy, for changes that intrude into life without permission do not always bring good.
The desire to hide from the world under a warm blanket was stronger than her parents’ reproaches and the mocking glances of the street children. Moreover, the nagging buzz in her head – whether from yesterday’s blow or from a premonition of upcoming events – would not subside.
– What was that yesterday? And what does it mean for me? An unfamiliar place, a strange little squirrel with its mysterious message, a glade. How is all this connected to me? – I was drowning in a heap of questions that tormented my mind.
Anna felt that from this day her life should change, gain meaning, and a road should open where she could walk without looking back to the past or harboring grievances. Lying in bed, she dreamed of a wonderful miracle, mesmerizing… of a life where dreams would be the guiding star, illuminating the way even in the darkest times.
Her dreams were born from everything unusual, and there were countless of them! Hence arose questions that seemed to have no answers.
But she was certain of one thing: the little squirrel was not a figment of her imagination. She had seen it, talked to it, and it could not have been a product of her imagination!
Anna firmly believed that the darkness, which undoubtedly exists on earth, has as much power as the light. They are inextricably linked, complement each other, and cannot exist separately.
– Why are many so afraid of the dark? After all, all secret rituals and ceremonies take place at night! – she asked herself.
And the matter is not necessarily about black magic, for some reason there were many more theories about darkness than about light, and numerous contradictory views clashed in this irreconcilable struggle. After all, one of the most beautiful things that happens at night is sleep. A blissful physiological process that grants rest to the body and mind.
Anna felt a strange power growing inside her, understanding that it could turn against her and possibly against her family. Everything around seemed strange: the unnaturally bright light of the stars at night, the whims of nature that instantly changed sunny weather to hurricane winds, strange voices in her head. She felt that at night she walked, and maybe even flew, but not in a dream, rather in reality.
– Who can I ask about what’s happening to me? There isn’t a single soul I could ask about the little squirrel! Surely this is not just my imagination? – she asked for the hundredth time.
– No, you are not imagining things. You are completely healthy! – a familiar voice sounded.
Anna turned around and saw that very little squirrel, who was drawing something on his paw.
– I am your friend and a loyal servant of the master, his postman. He asks me to be very quick and nimble. My name is Mark, Miss Anna! – he said, seemingly stuttering.
At that moment, the little squirrel stretched to an enormous size. His twenty centimeters in height transformed in a couple of seconds into a strong and tall man.
In astonishment, Anna opened her mouth. His transformation shocked her. She looked at him as if enchanted, while he laughed and searched in her for that very little girl who had witnessed a real miracle. And it was so!
– Incredible! How did you get here? – she breathed out, slowly leaning back as if something unreal had appeared before her.
– Through the window. I’m not tall, Your Majesty, and I’m quick enough to slip through a crack. Would you like me to demonstrate? – he squeaked, ready to prove his words right there and then.
– No, thank you, I’ve had enough of this magic for today! – Anna smiled, sparks dancing in her eyes.
Mark laughed like a real person, and she felt a little calmer. After all, you don’t meet a squirrel nearly two meters tall every day.
– “The master’s postman”… and what does that mean? – she asked again with curiosity, raising an eyebrow in slight confusion.
It seemed that the question drowned in the void; Mark did not respond, only turned away, directing his gaze to the dark corner. In his silence, there was not a request, but rather a plea for support directed at the invisible master, as if his salvation lay hidden there in the shadows.
– Speak up! What happened yesterday? I couldn’t find anyone in that room. I waited like a child, but no one came out to me, not even a response! And I even got hurt. How is that possible? – Anna exclaimed with impatience.
– They were watching us, and my master decided to postpone the meeting with you, as it could be dangerous for you! – replied the little squirrel, lowering his eyes as if he felt ashamed of something.
– Watched?! – Anna cried out, her voice filled with disbelief that turned into fear. – But there wasn’t a single soul around, not a shadow capable of watching! And how could you have known about this when you weren’t even nearby?
Questions poured from her lips like autumn leaves. He seemed not to feel their weight, accustomed to this continuous stream.
At that moment, Anna remembered the lampshades and the light emanating from them. She decided to remain silent, as she didn’t know who her new friend was and what he was about.
– Everything has its time, madam, do not rush events! – he replied as calmly as in all previous times.
A few minutes later, Mark, like a ghost, dissolved into the air, disappearing as suddenly as he had appeared. Once again, he demonstrated his unpredictability, leaving behind a tenuous sense of peace. The anxiety that had been gripping the heart in icy clamps retreated, giving way to quiet hope.
The next day, Anna woke up very early. Thoughts were spinning at the speed of light, her heart was pounding like a mad beast trying to break free.
The sun, generously pouring its extraordinary light, filled the house from the east with immense energy and warmth. Anna hurried to her lessons in a great mood and with a desire to tackle all the ideas that would come to her mind that day.
On that wonderful spring day, after school, Anna was walking home. Approaching the gate, she turned around, mesmerized by the jubilant chorus of birdsong, as if woven from sunbeams and fresh wind.
The glorious lullaby was sung by the birds nesting near the house. Their trills were like honey on the beaks of the feathered ones, as the neighbors listened in rapt attention to the beauty of this music, equally amazed by the light melody of these marvelous creatures. For a while longer, everyone listened to their delicate singing and could not understand what kind of birds they were, as any composer would envy such music.
Not far away, on an acacia bush, sat a bird of unusual coloration. As Anna learned from her neighbor’s story, it was a golden oriole. It was she who planted the seed of hope and faith in the hearts of everyone who heard her song. The bird, in yellow plumage, sat on a branch, singing her song not to bring joy, but to warn her fellow birds of the danger they faced.
And indeed, nearby, by the fence, cats were watching them – predators, lying in wait for any mistake they might make. But the birds, as if in cahoots with the wind, wove their own plans, having no desire to become a fluffy breakfast.
Having finished their trills, they quickly soared away and vanished, leaving behind unusual notes for the creation of a great song.
After such singing, Anna’s day seemed to flare up anew, like a light bulb in the dark. Not because there was a reason for it, but because a person should be cheerful, even if they are destined to walk a path that will perfect and elevate them. Perhaps this also applied to Anna, as at that moment she did not know what awaited her ahead and how life would unfold.
Everyone has their own path upward, their own summit. Some enjoy routine work, for others, family will be their refuge, and for some, power in all its forms. But in any case, a person will walk their own path. Nothing can be changed if there is no belief that you can.
– Many great people were knocked down by life, but they, overcoming pain, continued to fight, standing on their knees, and still achieved victory! – a passerby once threw this at me on the way to the bakery.
And, to be honest, his words made me think. Most likely, this person has fought many battles within himself, defeated many external and internal enemies, and his advice came in at just the right time. The agonizing headache faded, and if there was still a bump, it now appeared only as a phantom, pale blue gleam, like a memory of past pain dissolving in time.
I didn’t say anything to my parents, and they didn’t ask. I am still amazed at how this otherworldly, azure glow resting on my forehead did not disturb them. My father long gazed at my face with a crafty squint as if hesitating about something, but the question never slipped from his lips, and I kept silent. As if enchanted, we drowned in silence and tranquility, and in this serenity, there was something beautiful.
The street bathed in soft spring warmth and light. The overwhelming memories were so sweet that I found myself again at the house I had sworn never to approach. My thoughts, like unruly birds, brought me back to reality once again.
I suddenly turned around, in a desperate attempt to run, but my body treacherously refused to obey. My head was filled with a leaden weight, and pulsating pain tightened at my temples. As I sank down on the curb by the roadside, I noticed a woman approaching me like a mirage. Her gaze conveyed sympathy and a willingness to help. Gathering my last strength, I politely declined, citing the whims of the weather and the notorious teenage years. And indeed, the weather began to change as soon as I got closer to Lyon’s house. The wind picked up, and heavy clouds slowly gathered above. My thoughts would freeze, then whirl around in my head. Raising my eyes, I felt an inexplicable anxiety nudging me, suggesting that something familiar was nearby.
And there I was again, standing in front of a beautiful but dilapidated house. The piercing cold wind blew from the forest that spread not far from our village. Rare clouds had turned into a sinister veil, threatening to burst into rain. A fog appeared in my eyes that I absolutely did not like. This strange state completely drained me of energy, making it painfully difficult to even get up.
It was impossible to stay in place. The rain started to drizzle, and the clouds, which had covered the sky with a leaden blanket, seemed hostile. Gathering my last strength, I took a step forward and, noticing a male silhouette ahead, hurried away to avoid arousing suspicion. My eyelids were heavy with the desire to rest, and with great effort, I moved just a few steps away from the man.
After a moment, I turned around, but I didn’t see him next to me, yet I could feel his presence, and it frightened me. I was afraid that if he knew my parents, he would surely tell them that he had seen me near that dilapidated house, which was the last thing I wanted.
– Are you lost? – came a sudden question right in front of me, as if this person had sprung up from the ground.
– No! – I replied sharply, my cheeks flushing.
– Then why are you looking around so intently as if you’ve lost your way? – his persistent questions sounded like thunderclaps.
His voice brought me back to my senses a little. I felt like I knew this person and had heard their speech somewhere. But I didn’t dare to look him in the eyes, afraid of giving myself away.
– Who are you and what do you want from me? – I asked, drawing my foot through the dust.
– I don’t want anything from you, I’m just offering my help, that’s all! – he replied.
– Well, that’s great! I blurted out and started to run, feeling the long, studying gaze of the stranger burning into my back.
I turned around and saw that the stranger was so far away that he looked like a small dot. Just as I wanted to sigh with relief and take a moment to catch my breath, I suddenly found myself standing once again in front of Lion’s house.
This strange house, in which, according to the residents of our village, Mikhhau, inexplicable things once happened, drew me in with its energy, and I was very curious to know what was so mysterious about it that no one knew anything?!
Chapter 4.
A premonition of success
Within the walls of this house, which had once echoed with laughter and children’s voices, a tragedy unfolded, abruptly taking away the daughters from the couple. Grief, opaque and all-consuming, burned away the light of hope from their hearts, leaving only a gaping void that became, for some, an abyss.
– Two angels, as if woven from moonlight and morning mist, were beautiful in their otherworldly uniqueness! Their faces, like the imprints of stars on water, etched themselves into memory for a long time. Can one ever forget these wonderful, unearthly beings? – said old man Rolin, the oldest resident of our village, recalling the daughters of the Lion family.
His voice, like a whisper of eternity, carried the echo of that beauty which once illuminated their quiet land.
The man exhausted his grief for his children and, like a shadow, dissolved into the unknown. Whispers suggested that he had fled in haste, escaping either from the wrath of dark forces or from unbearable loneliness. Malicious tongues claimed that malevolent spirits hovered over his house, as if they were his own demons tormenting his soul. Since that day, no one has seen the master of that house, and no one knew whether he had met the fate that gossipmongers discussed with such glee.
His servants seemed to have evaporated, disappearing into the air without a trace. No one saw how they left the estate. The old people, who miraculously lived to our days, swore they watched the house for days on end, hoping to unravel this ominous mystery, but found no answers.
– I remember, sometimes the friend and I would sit on their fence for whole days, like sparrows, – mumbled the old man, stumbling over his words and shaking his head as if to drive away an obsession. – We observed the life of the Lion’s family. But never, you hear me, never did we see a single soul from the household cross the threshold!
Anna felt the inexplicable magic of this house, its attractive coziness, as if woven from dreams, its unique charm. And she responded with her heart to the pain of those who had left a part of their soul here.
– Human gossip, Anna, is like snake venom, – Utata, the janitor at our school, whispered to me, her eyes holding the sorrow of many generations. – Sometimes we do not know what blade is hidden in a word, how a curse can maim a soul!
– So, can one simply poison a person’s life with a whisper behind their back, with a single angry word? – I asked in amazement, feeling a chill run down my skin.
– Are you kidding, Anka! Of course! The worst is when it’s done sneakily! When you’re expected to provide support, and instead, you pour dirt! That’s where the real evil lies! – Utata replied.
– So what does that mean, if I think badly of my parents, does it hurt or upset them?! – I asked again.
– In a way, yes, but it happens somewhat differently, Anka. You need to grow a little more, and you will understand what I’m talking about! – the woman said.
Anna thought for a moment. She was completely confused by the strange adult life, where everyone is ambiguous or betrays. The teenager was going through a difficult period when she had to make many hard decisions.
After all those events, the house was empty. The walls and roof remained intact, while the ivy thickly entwining them hid the house from prying eyes for a long time. All these years, my way to school passed by this house. And while all the villagers of Mikhhau avoided it, I always peered through the gaps, hoping to see at least something in the thick overgrowth.
And once it was said that this house was full of joy and laughter, both from the owners and their guests. Lion has always welcomed an endless number of guests and enjoyed respect from both the residents of nearby towns and those he met during leisure or work in other countries.
Lion adored his wife, and the thought of being separated from her was unbearable, even though the years went by and the heir still did not appear. He protected her like a treasure, like a queen, bathing her in the luxury that his enormous wealth allowed: from dazzling jewelry capable of blinding just by their appearance, to exquisite, rare perfumes that seemed to require almost an expedition to France to acquire! He was ready to do anything just to see a smile on her beautiful face.
Mr. Lion was endowed with a rare gift – a musicality that permeated his being. This gift fueled his passion: he composed melodies himself, and the old piano, inherited from his great-grandfather, became the voice of his soul. Music filled Lion’s home, bringing together all who yearned to touch their dreams. The locals spoke of him with a sigh: “A talent! He is a true talent!”
Lion married late, at the age of forty, choosing a twenty-seven-year-old girl as his life companion. He, like a statue sculpted by an ancient artist – tall, broad-shouldered, with a straight nose and strong build – was a model of masculine beauty. Anastasia Orlova did not dazzle with her beauty, but captivated with her rare charm and elegance. There was an aristocrAtik nature in her and an unhidden pride in her roots. Fragile, big-eyed, with a sweet turned-up nose and thick, raven-colored hair, she seemed the embodiment of ethereal tenderness.
One of the now-deceased neighbors, working as a gardener on their estate, recalled how he saw her in the yard:
– An angel, – the old man used to say, – with curls blacker than night and skin whiter than the first snow.
Behind the couple, disillusioned neighbors whispered, spinning a web of fables. The servants, on the contrary, were devoted to their masters, cutting off any gossip at the root, protecting Lyon’s ears from rumors. However, he was also aware of the malicious tongues and carefully measured the warmth of his home, allowing only the chosen few into his work and future plans. There was no shortage of envious and ill-willed people. As for family, besides the uncle, who had disappeared without a trace after the death of his brother, whom Lyon hated with painful reluctance – he didn’t want to think about them at all.
I stood, enchanted, under the gaze of furtively thrown looks, unable to take my eyes off the house. The sky, refreshed by rain, slowly blossomed with azure. Clouds, like phantom whales, drifted lazily toward the horizon, carrying away the last shadows of darkness, giving way to the bright spring bliss.