Anna Alexander: queen of fire
- -
- 100%
- +
Some circled around the village, others explored the wastelands and abandoned wells, while others investigated the dilapidated buildings and barns. No one thought to look into Lion’s cursed house, about which people whispered and spun tales. Only a lonely old man, with a woven bag in his hands, claimed to have seen me at Lion’s house a few days ago. No one gave his words any importance, except for my parents. They exchanged frozen, terrified glances, understanding what it meant.
The air froze in disarray. Herman and Sania realized with horror that the secret of the adoption was hanging by a thread, ready to plummet into the abyss of revelation. They frantically tried to find the mysterious old man, like a ghost that had appeared from nowhere, hoping to wrestle answers from him. But he seemed to have evaporated, dissolved in the fog of time, leaving only an echo of fear. He was never seen again, as if he had never existed at all.
A long time passed after the old man disappeared. My parents suspected that I had entered the house with him, and that was why they could not find us. Herman and Sania, blinded by their unwavering commitment to their duties, missed the main point – they did not protect me from the abode that they had passed by many times and secretly hated and feared. A cold and relentless certainty settled in their hearts: the old man had come not by chance, like an ominous herald, to forever cast into oblivion the hope of my return!
Responding evasively to the timid questions of the neighbors, the couple hid behind the mask of grief, as if behind a shield. And who could blame them? Only their friends, to whom pride prevented them from turning, held the keys to the door for my return. They entertained themselves with a faint hope that common sense would prevail and that I would step over the threshold of my home myself.
I knew that even if I returned home in a day or a year, Herman and Sania would try to keep me away from that very house, and forever!
It is so hard to keep memories of people who showed even a little attention and kindness. Herman and Sania did not need praise. Selfish towards me, they struggled with my disappearance. They knew about my gift, about the strange power, and the outcome was unpredictable if that power continued to accumulate. Alone, as it seemed to them, I could not overcome this abyss.
Since fate cast me into the Lions’ house, insurmountable fortresses of unsolvable problems loomed before me. The burden of loneliness pressed unbearably, each step had to be taken in emptiness, without support or help. But even through the sadness of disagreements with the inhabitants of this strange house, I aimed to squeeze out grains of wisdom from each day lived. I listened to the words of others as a thirsty traveler drinks water, but the final word always remained with me – so that the bitter taste of defeat did not leave blame directed at others.
– I can say for sure that the best lessons are taught by life itself. She leisurely and meticulously determines each one’s path, from infancy to old age. Her lessons are paid for with the highest price – time! – Lina said.
Now I understand how right she was, how wisely she reasoned as a teenager.
– You know, someone spends precious years on hard work, on a family that doesn’t warm the soul. A person, like a wanderer, trudges down roads far from their true calling, finding it only at the sunset of their days. And every step up to that moment is an empty sound, unnecessary to either heaven or their own soul! – I sighed bitterly to my friend.
– That’s why in the bubbling cauldron of existence, where we all live, it is so important to catch the delicate thread of meaning – in the closeness with loved ones, in devotion to one’s beloved cause, in the unbreakable strength of family! For without family, we are just grains of sand, scattered by the winds of time! – Lina passionately replied.
– And yet… was it truly fated for German and Sania to become my adoptive parents? – this thought had been beating in my head for years.
Since I disappeared, things have started to vanish from their house, the rooms were in disarray, and windows and doors were left ajar. Unexplainable events were happening. German and Sania couldn’t find an explanation for it. They blamed each other for my disappearance. They had no desire to discuss either the search or how they would behave if I suddenly returned. They had turned into passionate and uncontrollable monsters unwilling to make concessions.
Each of them felt how the shadow of their indifference lay over the family’s fate when they ignored their daughter’s pleas to leave this place and find a new home. The elders had their own reasons to stay, Anna had her own dreams.
“Why didn’t this thought occur to me sooner?” – German tortured himself with these thoughts.
Admitting to Sania his violation of a long-standing prohibition, the mistake he made several years earlier, seemed an impossible task! The burden of worries blinded him, causing him to forget the most important road of life.
– If I could turn back that day, I would change everything! – he whispered into the void.
Things couldn’t be worse. Anna had vanished into thin air, leaving no slightest hint of her whereabouts. Herman and Sania walked on the edge of a knife, in constant fear that ‘important’ people would learn of the girl’s disappearance and, like vultures, would join in the search for her. Herman feared the unbearable shame in the eyes of those who had already methodically poisoned his existence.
Anna’s parents, haughty and proud like ancient statues, were consumed by one all-encompassing goal – to bring their daughter home. This goal had turned into a battleground, invisible and thus even more hated, where Herman and Sania fought against each other, desiring neither victory nor defeat. Each danced their own dance around the bonfire of fear, afraid of being rejected, condemned to anathema.
As for me… The incident with Madame Dupon became the very spark that turned my entire life in this house upside down. The servants, once unapproachable, suddenly became lenient. From that day on, I was looked at with unhidden curiosity, like a little sorceress, and life divided into two unequal parts. The first – wonderful, full of miracles and discoveries, where I felt like the mistress of earth, fire, water, and air; the second – unwanted, for everyone except the Lion couple, I had become the ‘little witch,’ and this title, like a rose thorn, tormented my entire being.
– Within each of you lies a spark of magic, ready to ignite into a bright flame, if only you awaken it. Work tirelessly on yourselves, do not let doubts bind your flight, and then your innermost “self” will make you true creators of wonders!’ – Lion passionately instructed his servants, like a sorcerer revealing the secrets of the universe.
Time has flown since then, carrying me further away from my former life. Every moment was infused with magic. The Lion’s house was a true oasis of smiles, genuine joy, and heartfelt laughter. Their wonderful children, woven from the love of their father and mother, were spoiled, yet sincere in their behavior. Sometimes they were gentle, like balls of silk, little kittens, and at other times proud, with a spark in their eyes, lionesses – they breathed life into the house, filling it with sunny laughter and the soft purring of happiness.
A considerable amount of time passed before a new maid appeared in the house, one who knew no rest and did not allow it for others. Perhaps I was ruining someone’s plans, especially regarding my adversaries, but my sincere desire to please everyone and all at once left me no time for rest. And though it may not have been worth doing, at that moment I was exactly that – driven by an insatiable desire to do good!
On one of those chilly autumn evenings, when the house was already drowning in a pre-sleep drowsiness, I, like a shadow, crept down the narrow corridor to my room, or rather, to the abode of Azazel. That day’s work had drained all my strength, and by noon I felt very tired. My hands refused to obey, protesting against the endless swirl of curtains that I had to iron and hang throughout the house. Barely reaching the door, locked with a key – Azazel was always afraid of something – I inadvertently overheard an animated conversation between three colleagues whispering by the dying fireplace.
– What do you think of maid Anna? – the butler said in a deep voice.
All three were so absorbed in their thoughts about me that they noticed nothing around.
– You know, I have seen a lot in my life, but I have never met such a hardworking girl. She is obedient and quite clever for her age! – replied one of the servants.
– Exactly, you are right, my friend! She is suspiciously young and quick! She manages to handle all the work in the huge house, and Azazel helps her too. But I am interested in something else: why does the master value her so much? – he asked, looking around as if he were a criminal.
Among the trio, there was a murmur. Someone was talking about my kinship with Lion, as if I were his niece and Orlova had been assigned to watch over me, someone insisted on the mistress’s condescension, while someone else even suggested that I was an abandoned child who had recently been found! There were many versions, but no one knew the truth. They argued like children, and their outrage was incomprehensible to me!
“Why do all this for grown-ups, after all, it’s my life?!” – I thought to myself.
A desperate desire to fade into the shadows, to become an invisible witness to their hypocrisy, boiled within me. I wanted to see how these adults, exuding fake smiles while weaving webs of gossip behind their backs, maintained their peaceful slumber! An overheard conversation pierced me sharper than a needle, and I vowed to myself – tonight I would draw Azazel to honesty.
Chapter 10.
Ominous acquaintance
I spent the whole day in agonizing anticipation. Every second felt like an eternity. I mechanically carried out household chores, trying to distract myself, but thoughts buzzed around me so insistently that soon I felt a pain in my head.
– What is she hiding? Who is she hiding? Or perhaps she is hiding something even more terrible? – asked aloud.
Finally, the sun began to set. When she entered the room, I tried to look as carefree as possible.
– How was your day? – I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She replied with something indistinct, avoiding my gaze. My heart raced wildly, and that’s when I realized: now or never!
– Azazel, we need to talk, – I said firmly, looking her straight in the eye. – I know you are hiding something from me, and I want to know the truth.
Her face paled, but she remained silent. The silence pressed down on me like a heavy stone. But I waited, waited for an answer that could change everything.
– What are you waiting for, Anna? – Azazel asked.
– An answer to the question! – I replied immediately.
– What answer? I don’t know what you’re talking about, – she cut in.
– About the master, why does he behave this way, and who was that Lion at the laundry, why should I beware of him? – I asked pleadingly.
Azazel was silent. In her silence, one could sense fear, but she didn’t say where it came from. – Anna, there are many things in this house that are foreign to you, much you do not yet know, and I ask you to be patient, and you will see, everything will reveal itself to you just as unexpectedly as that chance meeting! – Azazel replied calmly.
I realized that I was pressing her too much, and that was why she was so closed off with her revelations. And then a thought crept into my mind that I should leave everything as it is!
– I’m tired today and would like to rest a bit, with your permission, – she replied, as if asking to be left alone with my questions.
I no longer asked my friend questions, because I knew she wouldn’t give bad advice, and if she said that everything would be fine soon, then it would be true.
But why is it so often the case that yesterday’s happy ones sink into a sea of despair? Is it really the fate of a person showered with the gifts of fortune in a certain era, century-to live a life of abundance-inevitably accompanied by bitterness and sorrow, like a shadow chasing the sun? Ivan could not be accused of greed. On the contrary, his heart was open to the plight of others, and he generously shared his prosperity. Many workers at the “Lion” wood processing plant owed him not just their jobs, but hope for the future, for it was he who extended a helping hand to them not once, but for many years, becoming for them not only an employer but also a support in difficult times.
Lion, immersed in a thoughtful conversation with his new accountant, grappled with a task that seemed insurmountable: to save the fading sparks of life of the factory that had been passed down to him from his grandfather. In his last moments, as if passing the baton of fate, the latter made Lion swear – to preserve the enterprise at all costs. Not for profit, but for the people whose lives were intertwined with the fate of the factory: so they would not starve, not scatter in search of elusive prosperity, but would grow stronger in spirit, take root in their native land, and expand the business. After all, this factory, like an artery, nourished the entire area. The village thrived, generously sharing the gifts of the forest. Anyone who sought shelter and work found it under the roof of Lion’s grandfather’s legacy. And if until then no one had been sent away, it was only thanks to the titanic efforts of its owner. No matter how many options Lion – the younger – considered in his mind, no matter how many solutions he tried on, the way out seemed to come only at the behest of some unknown force from outside.
Lion was filled with an insatiable thirst for life and could never have imagined that betrayal would strike him so suddenly, like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. The pain burned like fire, scorching his soul, for it was inflicted by those he had trusted unconditionally, with whom he shared his innermost dreams, with whom he seemed to be connected by the invisible threads of fate itself.
– And now, when the goal is so close, the thirst for power and greed prove stronger than friendship. You lower your head, and disaster is already rushing towards you. You can only choose to let it in, but you will no longer be able to expel it, for pride almost always prevails! – Alexander was instructing his grandson.
Now Ivan had to forge a plan to save his creation-the factory that fed not only his family but hundreds of others. Their future depended on his decision.
On that gloomy morning, when the sky seemed to be trying on a gray shroud, a carriage came to a halt in front of Lion’s house. Mud-smeared and covered in some murky sludge, it looked like a ghost that had emerged from the autumn fog. From a distance, the poisonous yellow of the clay, which had stuck tightly to the wheels, caught the eye. A man, slipping out of the carriage like a shadow, was dressed with impeccable elegance, surprisingly slim and fit. A gray coat, a tall top hat, polished knee-high boots, and a scarf tightly wrapped around his neck-all of it screamed of wealth and cold arrogance.
Approaching the door, he knocked, carefully examining the windows as if searching for someone inside. The fleeting silhouettes behind the glass reminded one of moths flying towards the light, and in this case, towards the knock. The butler who opened the door nearly gasped. Before him stood the master, or perhaps a man very similar to him. The man nodded and walked deeper into the house, unhurriedly, slowly removing his hat and scarf, for some reason he was not in a hurry to take off his coat, as if he did not intend to stay long. Quickly realizing, the butler informed that the owner was not at home and suggested that the guest wait while someone was sent for him with news.
The guest, at that moment looking out the window, nodded and added that they should go after Ivan as soon as possible. The butler barely staggered at his voice. Whirling around sharply, he rushed to the back of the house, where in the shadowy courtyard the stables and other outbuildings huddled.
The coachman, accustomed to the quiet of gloomy days when the gentlemen did not disturb him, lay peacefully on the hay. His sleep was so deep that the first mention of his name sounded like a distant whisper of the wind. When the name was spoken for the second time, he jolted awake as if roused by thunder. In a hurry, blinded by his own haste, he did not notice the maliciously looming saddle and crashed into it headfirst with all his might. From the sudden pain, the coachman collapsed back into the fragrant hay, like a felled tree. The butler, enchanted by this comical awakening, could hardly contain an outburst of laughter. The poor fellow certainly got a rough deal, but he, swaying, got up, pushed the unfortunate saddle aside with his left hand, and began to diligently rub his stinging forehead with his right.
– I understand that you are not in the mood for trips right now, but the gentleman who arrived less than five minutes ago is waiting for the master. Hurry up! So saddle the horse and dash off at full speed after Mr. Lion before his strange double becomes enraged from the long wait! – the butler blurted out.
The coachman immediately obeyed.
About half an hour of agonizing waiting passed before the weary and dejected Lion, like a shadow, appeared on the threshold of his house. His mind was full of worries about the factory, but now he was troubled by the strange guest.
“Who is this man and why has he come right now?” – Lion asked himself.
Stepping over the threshold and taking off his soaked outerwear, he hurried to greet the children who joyfully rushed to meet him. Showering them with tender calls, he made his way to the library, where a guest awaited him. Approaching the door, Lion took a silent breath and reached for the handle. At that moment, a strange figure emerged from the adjacent room like a shadow, casting a frightened glance at the homeowner before disappearing into the dimness of the kitchen, where meat was being smoked.
Lion slowly opened the door, and he was astonished to see, by the fireplace with a cup of tea in hand, his cousin, not a bit aged, just as strong and robust as he remembered him over twenty years ago. The small wrinkles around his eyes and barely noticeable gray at his temples made him even more handsome and stately, yet not aged at all.
His posture, straightened to the gracefulness of a ballet dancer and clad in a strict frock coat, involuntarily reminded Lion of his grandfather – the very one who had passed the factory down to him.
– Hello, son. How long you’ve made me wait! – Gregory said hastily.
– Welcome, grandfather! I’m glad to see you, – Lion said and, stepping closer, wanted to hug the old man.
But he, as if sensing the upcoming conversation or succumbing to his usual indecisiveness, which had left him alone, rudely turned away from his nephew, pretending to set a cup on the mantel.
Lion sharply felt this estrangement. His only close soul suddenly became so distant and aloof that his chest tightened painfully. The owner of the house did not show how much this gesture hurt him and, with his usual tact, continued the conversation, internally preparing for new manifestations of such an attitude.
– I came on business, and before you give me an answer, think it over carefully, – Grigory began.
Lion obediently nodded, and a chilling fear crept into his heart. He had always known that one day would come when someone would approach him with an offer to sell the factory or give it to its “true” heirs. And that day had come for him!
Grandfather, as if dancing, smoothly sank onto the brown leather couch. In his eyes danced a monstrous fire, unfamiliar to Lion – as if a foreign, sinister spirit had settled there.
Lion managed to notice this and, settling down opposite in his favorite chair, with one leg crossed over the other, prepared for complaints and reproaches.
– I will get straight to the point, without asking about the health of your offspring and your wife, as well as your own well-being. I see that everything is wonderful with you! – the old man began his dull song, fiddling with his shoe in the air as if about to throw it off.
Lion raised his hand, interrupting this flow of hostility.
– I understand, grandfather, perhaps you are angry with me or got out of bed on the wrong side, but I don’t have offspring, I have children, and not a “little wife”, but a wife – beautiful and beloved. I ask you to respect them, because my children are the continuation of our family name, and my wife is my choice! – Lion said firmly.
The old man’s angry eyes rolled back in fury. Lion was genuinely scared, but he continued to steadfastly look at his relative, expecting a similar tone and continuation of the deceitful conversation. It didn’t take a minute before Grigory jumped up, shook the dust off his clothes, and, with great difficulty catching his breath, began to speak, uttering words full of malicious subtext.
– So, I won’t talk much, but you know that I am entitled to a share of the factory left after the death of my foolish brother, who loved no one and cared for no one but you! You must understand: whatever happens to the factory, I will still make sure you give me half of its worth or the whole thing. And I will do anything for that! And please, don’t teach me how and whom to call. As I say, that’s how I see fit. And I would like to point out: such relatives as your children are of no use to me, and a wife like yours… – he sneered contemptuously.
The pain pierced Lion’s face, distorting it into a grimace of anguish. The world shrank to the size of this unbearable pain, making him forget about the factory, about his own condition. Could it be that the one with whom he shared childhood games, who taught him to stay in the saddle, who replaced his long-gone father and grandfather, could have fallen so low, committed such a monstrous cruelty?
– Grigory! How dare you speak about my family like that?! So many years have passed, and suddenly you need the factory or part of it? Do you even understand what you are saying?! I put so much effort into making it exist! – Lion’s voice surged with furious fire.
– Yes, and that is why you are facing inevitable failure. Ivan, you have sunk it! And you know, only a miracle can save it! – Grigory hissed.
Lion was struck: it seemed Grigory had read his thoughts. The old man’s sharp tone bewildered him.
At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Lion was so angry that the veins in his neck became crimson. It expressed an undeniable anxiety: the words spoken by his, though not biological, grandfather caused him pain.
“How dare he?! On what grounds?! Just yesterday, there was respect for Anastasia in his eyes, and… he spoke of the children with such warmth! What happened? What poison has eaten away at his soul, turning him into a spiteful man?” – the head of the family tormented himself, darting through the maze of his own questions.
A moment later, like a timid shadow, Anna entered the room with a tray in her hands. A barely audible knock on the door preceded her appearance. Her fingers seemed to play a nervous trill on the edge of the tray – the echoes of the screams from here made them betrayingly tremble.
– Good day! You asked for tea, – the girl greeted.
Grigory, breathing heavily, turned to Lion, then, taking a deep breath, stared at the guest.
– Who are you? – he asked quietly and, stepping back as if preparing to jump, leaned his hand against the fireplace.
– The maid, – Anna answered rudely.
At that moment, something erupted from Grigory’s chest. A small black spot rose up, like a shadow from under his vest, and headed straight for the girl.
Lion froze in shock.
– What was that? Could my grandfather… no, that can’t be! – Lion asked in a low voice, tormented by his thoughts.
Like a predatory bird, he darted towards Anna, covered her face with his palm, and whispered in a pleading, almost painful tone, begging her to immediately go into the hallway.
Anna obeyed and moved towards the door, but Grigory somehow emerged beside her, blocking her way. Looking up at him, she suddenly felt a chilling cold – behind him, in the half-light, a silhouette emerged, vaguely familiar, like a ghost from long-forgotten dreams. Not daring to believe her eyes, she held her breath, waiting for confirmation, as if afraid to scare away the vision.