Anna Alexander: queen of fire
Alana K. Solomo

© Alana K. Solomo, 2025

ISBN 978-5-0067-7692-0

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Chapter 1.
Unusual images

– What a wonderful house! Whose is it, dad? – sounded the clear question from nine-year-old Anna.

The head of the family flinched as if struck, realizing his mistake. He quickened his pace, trying to lead his daughter away from the house they were passing by for the first time.

– Dad, why are we in such a hurry? We went out for a walk while mom is busy with lunch! – the girl persisted.

Tormented by anxiety, the man hurried to leave this marvelous place. Frustration over his own carelessness gnawed at him. Rage bubbled inside. When only the peak of the roof remained in sight and the blurred reflection of the windows still flickered in the distance, he suddenly stopped and looked around. The thought that they could have been seen would not leave him in peace. But above all, he wanted to instill such fear in Anna’s soul that the mere memory of this place would send her fleeing.

As she crossed the road between the quiet streets illuminated by streetlights, the girl noticed a pair of eyes watching from the window of that very house. Their bluish gleam and alluring beauty captivated her. And although she didn’t know who was in the window, warmth emanated from the house, causing her to smile involuntarily.

– Dad, why don’t you answer? – Anna asked again.

At that moment, the calm and composed man transformed into a cold, harsh beast. His eyes shot lightning. Barely holding back, he jerked his daughter’s hand roughly, so that she gasped in surprise.

– Listen, Anna, our walk here is a huge mistake! You know we don’t go like this! I beg you, don’t come here again! Not with friends, and especially not alone. No one has lived in this house for a long time, and who knows who could have occupied it while it decays! – Herman cut her off with fury.

– Okay, Dad. If you ask, I will do just that, – the girl replied.

– And also, not a word to mom about us being here. She will scold you! You know you have to listen to her? – he added after a pause.

The girl nodded, while the man continued to mull over the dangerous situation he had put himself in.

– What a careless fool I am! My wife won’t forgive me if she finds out! The main thing is that Anna stays quiet, and I won’t say anything myself! – he mumbled under his breath so loudly that the girl kept glancing at his face.

The memory of that day is etched in my mind like a photograph, and years later it suddenly resurfaced. How I longed to see the silhouette in the window, the one who was watching us! And why was it forbidden to go near that house? What warmth was hidden behind its walls that I felt from a distance!?

Over the years, my interest in that house did not fade; it only intensified. From afar, I always stole glances in its direction, hoping to see someone nearby, and since then, all my thoughts have been connected to that building.

At fourteen, quite young, I became passionate about psychology, developing my intuition and spending a lot of time reading books. Reading was a true pleasure for me. My thirst for knowledge was limitless. I dreamed of becoming all-knowing so that I could answer any question at the right moment!

The only person who shared my passion for knowledge was my loyal friend Lina, my support and stronghold. After all, true friends are always few.

Lina was gentle and fragile, while I was a feisty girl with scraped knees, often making her worry. She forbade me from playing with other children, knowing that one of them would inevitably end up crying.

– Don’t go near her, she’s harmful! – she told the neighborhood kids, knowing my unruly nature.

A person with a pure soul, an angelic gaze, and a soft voice, she never got upset, never scolded, and never shouted, except at me, sensing that one of the cheeky boys would soon get it.

– Oh, you’ll get it one day from a bully just like you! – she told me.

But strangely, I never faced any resistance. All our kids kept their distance and even feared passing by.

At a young age, I learned a lot. At fourteen, I learned what loss was, what pain was. The only person who understood me was leaving, and I felt it so acutely that I began to dissolve in her grief. Lina was diagnosed with a serious illness that was rapidly shortening her life.

Physical pain recedes when emotions fade. We are powerless over these processes.

Most often, I approached her house and, listening carefully for any sound of crying, quietly opened the metal door, secured with two sturdy locks, and slowly stepped onto the creaking floorboards. In complete silence, I entered her tastefully furnished room, which always had fresh flowers, curtained windows, cream-colored wallpaper that blended with the cozy interior. The soft furniture added a sense of lightness, and the chandelier and dresser with a crystal globe, inside which winter and Christmas were hidden, did not overwhelm with their bulk. The room was simply furnished and seemed like a paradise for a girl suffering from illness.

Recently, the hope for Lina’s recovery had begun to fade, like a dying candle in impenetrable darkness, and one day, at her doorstep, I was met by Lina’s older sister. She trembled with grief, and tears were streaming down her face. That’s when I realized that my friend would never hear about new fairy tales again.

The loss of a person around whom your thoughts revolve is a heavy trial at any age. The heart becomes covered with a veil of sadness, and then it gets even worse. Over time, you realize that the sooner you let go of the thought of losing a loved one, the easier it will be. After all, if you live with the loss, it may never release you, and you will become a prisoner of negative energy and dark thoughts. Those who have left must be released with ease, for you will meet again, in another form and in another dimension.

I was a foster daughter, a quiet shadow in my parents’ home, obedient but with a spark of stubbornness in my character. My love for my parents was pure, like the first spring flower, and it blossomed with every glance from them, with every word, every breath. Their attachment to me also grew year after year, and my love strengthened, like the roots of an ancient tree, penetrating deep into the heart.

The life gifted to me by my family was wonderful; they surrounded me with care and attention, helping me to grow and develop, nurturing the personality they prepared for the future.

I knew nothing about my real parents. How many sleepless nights have I spent trying to understand what could have made them abandon me? Where was that line beyond which I became ‘unwanted’? But, perhaps, this mystery will remain unsolved forever. The years faded the sharpness of my desire to meet them, leaving only a faint echo of curiosity.

– Mom, did you know my parents? – i asked one day, and the woman’s face froze for a moment in a mask of astonishment.

At that time, I didn’t attach any importance to this question. But after a while, the question was asked to my father. Unlike my mother, he did not flinch and answered that he had only seen them once!

– What is the purpose of these questions, Anna? You weren’t interested before, – asked Herman.

The embarrassment touched my cheeks. An unexpected feeling of guilt stabbed at my heart, though it was unclear what I had done wrong.

– I’m just curious, who are those people who betray… – I replied, looking my father in the eyes.

Herman and Sania exchanged glances, and an unpleasant chill ran down my spine. Somewhere deep in their anxious hearts, they understood where their daughter’s conversation was leading, but preferred to stay silent, changing the subject.

– We saw them only briefly, just once. And then they disappeared from our lives, and we became happy. So, dear, don’t think about it. It’s the past, there is no road back. We are happy together, aren’t we? – Sania asked.

Anna nodded, feeling as the question echoed in her head, finding no answer.

– Why did I see shadows out the window back then? – I asked aloud.

They pretended not to hear my question. After all, all questions about the past meant nothing to them. I continued to look at my parents, but my thoughts wandered somewhere far away.

Sania and Herman watched me, seeing how a child turns into an adult who asks uncomfortable questions.

– I’m a little scared for Anna. After all, she is our daughter, and… you know, she is strong in her… – Sania began, but didn’t manage to finish.

– It’s better to leave everything as it is, Sania. Be quiet and don’t raise suspicions! – Herman cut her off.

– We need to consult the chief. Maybe there is a way to return us to… – she stopped again.

– When will you stop bringing trouble?! Sit quietly until Anna reaches the truth! If she finds out who we are, we will all be in trouble! – Herman raised his voice loudly.

– Who gave her those figurines, Herman? – Sania whispered quietly.

Herman shrugged, silently denying his involvement, and headed for the exit. His thoughts were collected, his gaze focused. He didn’t want to interfere in Sania’s affairs, but he couldn’t let the situation drift either, knowing her impulsiveness.

Our eyes met for a moment. I, like a lost one, was trying to gather my thoughts, pretending not to be interested in their conversation. But every word, every movement did not escape my notice. The desire to learn something about my real parents was immense.

– Anna, please come here! – Sania suddenly asked.

I obediently got up and approached her. German, almost at the door, froze. He sensed that the conversation might take an unpleasant turn and decided to wait for it to end.

– Don’t be angry with us, Anna. We only wish you well and are not hiding anything from you, except… – Sania hesitated, as if searching for the right words.

German’s pupils elongated into horizontal slits for a moment. Sensing that Sania might ruin everything, he quickly approached us.

– Girls, what if we go for a walk? – suggested German, clearly confused.

Four black pupils flared up in his eyes, their shine was unbearable. The desire to cloud my mind, to make me forget everything, grew stronger in him with each passing second.

– Wait, father. I want to hear her out. She has something to tell, right, mom? – I asked, glancing into my father’s eyes for a moment.

German, beside himself with rage, was covered in sweat. He understood that if he didn’t fix the situation, all his efforts to keep the family together would be in vain. Clenching his fist so tightly that bones crackled, he slowly rolled his eyes, and when he opened them, I was scared, as if he was a monster in front of me. Staring at him in disbelief, I asked:

– Father, what’s wrong with your eyes? And then I fell into darkness.

About an hour passed before I came to. The sleep was brief, but there was a fog in my head, heavy thoughts obstructed seeing the situation through a teenager’s eyes. I vaguely remembered what had happened, why I had fallen asleep in the middle of the day; I did not recall any conversation with my parents, nor my father’s strange eyes… I had forgotten everything that had occurred some time ago, and upon waking, I found neither Herman nor Sania at home. The only thing I wanted was to take a walk down the spring street, breathe in the aroma of blooming lilacs, and bathe in the rays of the sun to dispel my distraction and perhaps clarify the situation I found myself in, a situation I may not have even suspected.

Chapter 2.
Strange creatures

Anna walked up the road, winding like a river stream through the narrow streets of the quiet village of Mikhhau. Coming towards her, slightly bent under the burden of years, was an old man, his face etched with wrinkles like a map of a lifetime lived. From his lips came quiet fragments of melody, seemingly a forgotten song of time. He moved with the confidence and calmness more characteristic of a youth than an old man. In his hands, he held a small box that he tossed between his palms, as if playing dice with fate itself.

Unbeknownst to herself, as if enchanted, Anna found herself at the house. Her mind was quiet and serene, like the surface of a wonderful lake.

Breaking free from the stream of thoughts swirling in her consciousness, she discovered herself standing before it – the house, drawing her in like a magnet.

Words could not convey the strange mixture of feelings that overwhelmed her. Her heart raced like a bird caught in a cage, her breathing became uneven. She had always sensed that this house was imbued with magic, just like its ancient inhabitants. Even on the gloomiest day, in the midst of a snowstorm or bitter cold, it radiated warmth, granting her strength and filling her with life energy. It was no surprise that her feet led her here, down a path that deviated from her usual route.

The warmth flowing from the walls, thickly entwined with emerald-green ivy, felt painfully familiar, as if something dear and close was hidden behind them. Not a single leaf rustled, creating a sense of seclusion, as if she had found herself in the heart of a dense thicket. Trees surrounded the house on all sides, hiding it from prying eyes. Timid rays of sunlight filtered through their intertwining branches. There was not a single cloud, and this stillness felt ominous. In a split second, her entire life flashed before her eyes. Squinting, she made out in the distance a group of people chatting animatedly about something. A sweet aroma of lilac lingered in the air. Her mind was clear, which initially frightened Anna, for it was here, at this house, that strange things always happened to her.

Every time she left home, whether for study or just a walk, it ended with her being here, and all her feelings and sensations changed profoundly.

She dreamed of this house, not knowing the reason for her desire, but she knew that entering inside was forbidden. Day and night she dreamed of inhaling the scent of old furniture, feeling the fragrance of flowers planted by unknown hands, lying in the grass of its shady garden.

Something inexplicable had started since her father mistakenly turned the wrong way and they ended up by this house. Since then, she hadn’t been able to find peace or focus on anything more important than this alien, dilapidated house.

– There is a place in life for events where everything happens when you desire it the most but don’t expect it at all. This is the law of the universe, the law of attraction. Call it magic or enchantment – it’s up to you, but however you name it, it will invariably fulfill your wish, the astronomy teacher told her one day.

And to be honest, our life is nothing short of a miracle.

Anna hurriedly turned off the path, forbidden to her by her parents’ command. A chill of apprehension settled in her heart: if even one curious eye noticed her creeping shadow by the walls of the cursed house, her parents wrath would descend upon her with the relentless force of nature.

That day etched itself in memory as a dazzling shard of magic, woven from unreality and dreams. After the walk, time seemed to scatter into myriads of moments, slipping away from consciousness. She remembered neither the way back nor the events that left a mark on this enchanted day, as if someone had erased those moments from her memory with a snap of their fingers. The only thing she remembered was the eyes that watched her from the window, eyes filled with kindness and warmth.

– Why is the world arranged this way? – she asked Lina, and her voice carried genuine pain. – How much beauty perishes in the shadows, just to shine once in the rays of someone else’s recognition, to conform to imposed ideals, to elevate oneself above others or, on the contrary, to bow humbly. Can’t we just live, radiating kindness, finding happiness in simple joys, without chasing the elusive shadows of perfection?

– Perhaps the time will come when wiser people than we are now will answer these questions, as the world is changing for the better. But for now, seek only the good in this beautiful world, – Lina replied.

Thus, I lived in anticipation of a happy life and wonderful moments yet to come.

As for Anna’s parents, Sania and Herman were hastily preparing for the trip. They hurried as if a whirlwind had swept through the house and rushed out the door, barely having a chance to speak to their daughter.

– Don’t forget to feed the cat, we’ll be back tomorrow evening! – Sania managed to shout to her daughter, who looked after them in surprise, her mouth slightly open.

At that moment, the girl was standing with a glass of milk in her hands. Puzzled, Anna looked at her departing parents, not understanding what was happening.

– I wish I could talk to someone… I really have no one to talk to, – Anna whispered as soon as the front door slammed shut.

Her expression was weary, as it was difficult for a teenager to admit that she was all alone in this vast world. She remembered Lina with sadness, who was probably happily sitting on a throne next to the angels.

Time passed, and Anna gradually stopped tormenting herself with loneliness. Most likely, she even fell in love with it, as one must live in harmony with oneself. The girl found the strength to overcome the fear of being without communication, and after everything she had gone through, a pleasant surprise awaited her. She knew that there were many activities that brought peace to the mind and body… but…

Once, when the sunlight lazily filtered into her room, the silence was shattered by a strange sound coming from the hall. At first, she thought it was the neighbors dropping by for a visit, calling to their family members, but there were no voices. Only silence, interrupted by the creaking of old floorboards under invisible footsteps, and an inexplicable emptiness, as if the house was holding its breath, waiting for something, a ghostly rustle, like the breath of the night, and a strange, muffled thump, as if a huge, predatory cat was creeping from corner to corner in insatiable thirst, reached her ears.

Descending to the first floor, Anna froze, stunned by the unexpected guest. At her feet, standing up on its hind legs, was a baby squirrel. Its little claws made quiet tapping sounds on the floor, and an unusual, almost plaintive squeak was escaping from its throat. Forgetting everything, Anna decided to escort the little forest creature back home, but catching it proved to be no easy task. After three dizzying circles around the house, her attention was drawn to the squirrel’s strange behavior. In his movements was read not so much fear as desperate hunger. The thought of how to feed the little creature firmly seized her heart.

– So what am I supposed to do with you, and most importantly, how do I feed you? – she asked her new friend and was surprised that she was trying to talk to a wild animal.

– I would like some birch juice, Anna! – he squeaked.

– Right now, mommy! – followed her unconscious reply.

Stopping, Anna realized that something strange was happening in the room.

– Now I will feed you, and you will run back home, right? – she said, and her eyes widened in surprise.

– Of course, Miss Anna! – the squirrel again hissed, changing in appearance.

She looked at him in fear. After all, you don’t see something like this every day, let alone in real life!

In the blink of an eye, his eyes rounded, ears and nose took on human features, paws elongated into hands, and his body became male. The squirrel transformed into a man she had never seen before.

– I am the servant of the gentleman who sent me to you, asking to deliver this letter, – and he rummaged in his pocket.

A few seconds later, he handed her a white sheet of paper, folded several times.

She stood like a statue, unable to utter a word. His movements were quick, making her head spin like a globe.

– Here, I found something else for you! – said the strange companion, extending a small pencil that resembled an ordinary wooden stick.

– What kind of pencil is this? – she whispered, holding the light stick in her hands.

– Review this letter and give a response to the gentleman; he is impatient, – squeaked the little squirrel, sparkling its eyes. – And hurry up, time is money, and it is very valuable to me!

Anna was in a daze, her mind refusing to piece together what was happening into a coherent picture. He had appeared as if out of nowhere, and in every word of his, there was such unyielding seriousness that it was impossible to deny it. Disbelief paralyzed her; it seemed like unreality, a bad dream, and the main question was – why her?

Unfolding the paper, she read the following:

Miss Anna, I beg you to hurry! The heart of our village keeps a quiet aquarium on Karaliokha street ∞. Time is quicksand, do not wait a moment! I.L.

– What does this incomprehensible address mean? And in general, there is no such address in our village; apparently, your master has confused something? – she said.

The squirrel chuckled, and then a slight tremor pierced through him. The strange metamorphoses began again. He stretched upwards, like a young tree, then dissolved into the air, becoming almost an elusive ghost, then produced strange, otherworldly sounds, reminiscent of the whisper of the wind in an empty pipe…

– Please hurry, I need to deliver the answer as soon as possible; it is very important! – he replied in millions of strange voices, merging into one incomprehensible roar.

I raised my hand, and the pencil, like a captured bird, fluttered in my fingers. Struggling to suppress a shiver, frightened by its unusual liveliness, I felt the graphite tip, like a tiny spark, burn my skin. And then, obeying an unknown impulse, it began to dance across the paper, and the pen, as if possessed, traced whimsical signs. In an instant – and beneath the initials I.L., a concise response emerged: “Good.”

A sudden ray of sunlight pulled my guest’s face out of the shadows, and before me, as if nothing had happened, stood the same little squirrel, clearly pleased with the effect he had created. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded toward the door, indicating that it was time for me to follow him.

Like an arrow released, he darted away, leaving me to swallow the dust of his swift run. Casting aside modesty, I dashed after it like a child entranced by the dance of an elusive ball. Soon we found ourselves by a modest earthen mound, barely discernible in the green grass of the meadow – a secret concealed beneath a veil of ordinariness.

The hill, rising above the even grass by no more than three and a quarter elbows, resembled an anthill more than an entrance to a dwelling. A tiny door and a window, each no taller than an elbow, did not match the image of the mysterious place described in I.L.‘s letter.

The absence of a handle on this miniature door seemed like a verdict, dispelling the last wisp of hope for the wonders hidden behind it.

– And how am I supposed to get inside now? There isn’t even a handle, – I muttered aloud, looking at the little squirrel in confusion.

In response, the little creature merely pointed with its paw at the door, remaining standing a little distance away, as if hesitant to enter first or simply yielding the way.

– Are you really going to leave me alone? – I whispered with a pleading look, gazing at the little squirrel.

– Don’t worry, madam, you have been awaited for quite a while! – came the unexpected reply, and the squirrel swiftly turned and disappeared into the meadow grass.

Gathering my will, with a bitter taste of fear on my tongue, I flung open the door as if plunging into icy water.

The sight that greeted me was astonishing. The little room was so tiny that it resembled a mole’s burrow. Tiny windows allowed only a meager amount of sunlight to enter, while a huge, disproportionate chandelier with many small candles emitted a soft, magical glow, reminiscent of a sprinkle of fireflies. Gilded cuckoo clocks, beige walls, and the paintings adorning them created an atmosphere of coziness and mystery. It was clear that a refined and incredibly detail-oriented nature had labored over the creation of this little room. Despite the modest selection of items and colors, the harmonious combination of tones and restrained furnishings filled this strange place with a special atmosphere.

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.

On that day, curiosity completely consumed me. After glancing once more at the mysterious facade, I leaned closer to the crack between the green ivy bushes. The miracle I beheld pierced me like a sudden bolt of lightning.

In the courtyard, opposite the ivy-covered veranda, stood an old, long-forgotten fountain. But now, bathed in sunlight, it seemed to awaken, its silent play appearing like magic. It seemed as if time had turned back, and the fleeting life had returned to this old house…

The fountain, which seemed to have fallen forever asleep, suddenly awakened, scattering a kaleidoscope of rainbow splashes in the courtyard. In the sunlight, the streams sparkled and shimmered, sketching ephemeral otherworldly patterns in the air. All worries and anxieties faded away as if they had never existed. There could be no talk of matters – this extravaganza of colors and light transported one to another reality. Along the old fence, as if echoing the miracle, roses bloomed. Delicate buds released an intoxicating fragrance that begged to be inhaled deeply. And I knew, I felt with all my heart – this is not a dream.

Suddenly, as if struck by lightning, a memory of the squirrel pierced through! Doubts retreated, giving way to an exhilarating premonition: such coincidences are not accidental!

– But how could the roses bloom and the fountain come to life? After all, the house has long been abandoned… – this question tormented my consciousness, finding no answer.

I recoiled from the fence as if struck by an invisible force, and was already about to run when my name, like a beast breaking free from its chain, roared in the silence. The echo carried it over the rooftops of the village, causing me to freeze. I turned around, my heart pounding in my chest like a trapped bird. There was not a soul around. Only an empty street, bathed in sunlight, and the whisper of the wind in the branches of an old apple tree nearby. I looked around again, confirming my solitude.

Only in the distance could I see a group of playing children, a pack of dogs, a girl with a pile of notebooks in her hands, and several men animatedly arguing about something. But I didn’t notice anyone who could call me by name. A feeling that I had seen this before suddenly enveloped me, the world swam before my eyes, and I felt the ground slipping away from under my feet.

I woke up at home, in my bed. My parents stood in front of me with faces showing clear displeasure. I raised my hands to look at my numb fingers and noticed how pale they had become, just like my face. A carousel of thoughts spun in my head.

The first thing that flashed in my memory was the sight of a house, a fountain drowning in roses. I began to doubt whether it had been just a dream, but then, like an anchor pulling me back to reality, the image of a little squirrel appeared. The silence, which seemed to last an eternity, was broken by my father’s voice, pulling me out of my stupor.

– What were you doing at Leon’s house? – he asked, not hiding his painful curiosity about that place and my presence near the house.

– Nothing. I was on my way to school, and I woke up here. What happened? – I mumbled indistinctly.

The parents exchanged glances, and their whispering started again, but the words, like ghosts, dissolved into the buzz that rose in my head. How strange: usually their voices rang with crystal clarity when they addressed me, but now it felt as if my ears were filled with a viscosity that muffled the world.

– You tell us what happened! – my father insisted, burning me with his gaze.

“What’s wrong with looking at the house I liked? No one got hurt!” – a desperate justification flickered in my mind.

– I was walking to school, as usual, past that house. And as soon as I took a few steps, I was called by name. I turned around – there was no one around, not a single familiar face… and then, it was like emptiness, and now I’ve come to! – Anna blurted out, trying to piece together the fragments of remembrance into a coherent picture.

The parents exchanged glances again, as if passing on the baton of unspoken words. An awkward silence tightened the room, and I found it hard to breathe – the air seemed to thicken. A volcano was awakening inside me, bubbling with righteous fury. My face burned, as if scorched by flames, and my parents’ words reached me in fragments, losing clarity amidst this internal fire. To my surprise, they no longer scolded me. They, immersed in a silent argument, expressing their disagreement through gestures and undertones, noticed my sleepy face and hurried out into the corridor, taking with them a tangle of unresolved contradictions to continue their silent dialogue without disturbing the fragile silence of my sleep.

“What is it that I should hear?” – this question echoed in my mind.

Suddenly leaping up, as if jolted, I staggered to my desk and, stopping as if rooted to the spot, closed my eyes. I heard my name again, like the whisper of the wind in an empty room. Deciding that this was the work of my father, I remained silent, biting my lip, but a moment later the voice repeated itself more insistently and closer.

– What is going on! – I couldn’t take it anymore, and my voice trembled.

Taking a step toward the door, I felt as if I was descending into a dream as I made my way to the hall, to the first floor. Our house, though not large, comfortably sprawled over two stories: four cozy little rooms, a spacious hall, a kitchen, bathrooms that looked like two drops of water identical to each other, a basement holding the smell of damp mold, and a spacious library where the shadows of old stories lived. Setting my foot on the last step, I inadvertently overheard fragments of my parents’ conversation. They were whispering about some miracle that had almost burned their lives to the ground, and about the need to put a stop to it before it was too late. Their words, like shards of glass, pierced the silence of the house.

– See, I warned you! – said my father in a commanding tone.

My mother wanted to say something, but my father interrupted her with his response:

– And what if she disappeared or went missing? And still, in the evening, we need to thank the Ambassador for his kindness. After all, someone might have noticed her, especially…!

– Alright, I understand everything. We’ll figure it out in the evening! There are countless candidates for our place. We need to be ready for anything, especially for the fact that Anna is no longer a child, and we can’t forbid her to walk that path. She is a smart teenager and might suspect everything. And then everything will go wrong! – the mother said with frustration.

The father rolled his eyes strangely, and the chair creaked pitifully as he struggled to detach his leaden body from it. It was as if some invisible force was pulling him somewhere, as if the breath of another presence was scorching his back. He thought he could hear them eavesdropping, that a web of foreign gazes was enveloping the room. Without saying a word, just nervously nodding, he signaled to his mother, and they, like conspirators, peeked into the hallway.

– I feel like someone is watching us! – whispered Herman, and a shadow of fear passed over his face, distorting his features.

The thought that their secret might be revealed after that unfortunate incident with Anna outside Lion’s house tormented him. The man was suffocated by this uncertainty, this feeling of being cornered. His face changed like a landscape before an approaching storm – from anxious confusion to animal rage, until Sania, alarmed by his expression, snapped him back to reality.

– What’s wrong with you!? Anna is home, I checked. We have nothing to fear anymore. Our home is protected, you set it up that day when we moved here, remember? – the woman asked with hope.

Herman felt that he had done the right thing, and the gloom of doubt slowly dissipated in his mind. He realized that fear could destroy his life, and to avoid bringing disaster upon himself, he vowed to control his fury.

But they were deeply mistaken, for I was right there, an invisible witness. As if waking from a nightmare, I quickly stepped away from the hallway, swept up by a whirlwind of sudden insight and horror. In the room, Sania saw me “sleeping “… but how could this happen, this mystery will be revealed!

Chapter 5.
The strange abode

– What unimaginable things are happening around?! Who are they so afraid of, whom do they crawl in silent horror before? And why does the house of the Lions, forgotten and abandoned by all, evoke such primal fear in them? – thoughts swirled in my head like autumn leaves, driven by a relentless wind.

The rustle of footsteps faded, and ominous silence reigned. Not a single sound, no timid chirping of birds, no quarrelsome whispering of old women, no ringing laughter of children, only a crushing, all-consuming silence, like a shroud thrown over the world.

The opportunity to go down to the first floor and see if my parents had taken even a single step toward reconciliation or continued to maintain their sullen silence, huffing at each other, never presented itself.

Time dragged on torturously slowly, like a spring, and no one was in a hurry to call me. The thought that I was losing my mind terrified me to the point of shivering, but the gentle image of a squirrel, nestled in the cozy hollow of an old tree, perhaps remembering me as well, momentarily restored my lost mental balance.

“Whose voice is that? Who does it belong to? What is happening here? And why does it seem like everyone around is possessed by malice and suspicion?” – I was tormented, like a bird caught in nets.

Deep in my soul, like a poisonous flower, bloomed a desperate yearning for immediate answers; otherwise, madness seemed the only escape. After all, dragging on an existence in loneliness, tormented by uncertainty, had become unbearable torture.

Spring had taken its rightful place, pouring warmth like golden nectar over the world. An invisible flock of birds circled in the sky, and a light breeze, like a silk scarf, caressed my cheeks. Breathing became easier, and I felt a certain unity with nature awakening from its winter slumber with indomitable strength.

But the events of recent days poisoned everything around, granting not a drop of peace. Life itself demanded change, as if it were extremely necessary. At the slightest foreign sound, goosebumps ran down my skin, and an obsessive desire to walk past the Lion’s house had entrenched itself in my consciousness, like Prometheus, forever chained to the rock of painful memories. Only the realization of the imminent possibility of fulfilling this desire brought a weak consolation.

You can walk past the house countless times, but entering inside felt like a task that seemed almost impossible.

That day turned out to be painfully dreary. The sun, like a merciless executioner, blazed relentlessly, and the bustle of Sunday radiated unbearable indifference. In my head, an insatiable yearning beat to touch upon events capable of providing a breath of fresh air.

Unsteadily stepping onto the first step, I sat down beside a small anthill, where tiny workers, like brave warriors, fought for crumbs of bread. My breath was ragged, thoughts, like sharp shards of glass, tormented and pierced me from the inside, leaving bleeding wounds. My heart raced wildly, trying to break free. At that moment, my mother came out of the house and invited me to the table. I jumped up so abruptly that a shadow of surprise flashed across her face.

– One must pay for everything new with a loss! – Sania kept saying, as if it were a prophecy.

It seemed that the reckoning would touch the dearest – our loved ones. An ominous premonition hung in the air like heavy lead, and inevitability loomed like a storm cloud.

We entered the house, enveloped in a dense cloud of sandalwood and the scent of sunny oranges. Everyone took their place in an unspoken ritual: my father – facing the rising sun, my mother – to the right, like his reflection, me – to the left, a shadow. The silence at the table weighed heavily with its unusual density. The lunch seemed frozen in time.

Our walls have never known such silence. Usually, stories from my father would scatter like sparks of laughter, my mother would catch them, and dinner would turn into a small celebration. But now – there was no sound, no questions, only a deafening silence.

– Anna, pass the salt, – my mother’s voice sounded unexpectedly, like a distant echo.

Each word resonated with a hollow emptiness. Time slipped through my fingers like quicksand.

“Why are they silent? Why only twelve hours?” – feverishly throbbed in my head.

Exactly at noon, the old clock struck its weary chime. I lifted my gaze, and a vague premonition took shape into a chilling understanding: my mind, like a beast unleashed, was racing ahead of events, allowing me to see the future in fleeting fragments. A gentle spring breeze intruded boldly through the open window. The old ceiling fan, long overdue for repair, began to hum, and the curtain, brushing against my cheek with its cold silk, whispered my name again. I locked eyes with my parents. In their placid faces, chewing in thoughtful silence, there was a sense of detachment. The voice in my head grew louder, more insistent.

“If I don’t make it into that house, I’m going to lose my mind…” – this thought throbbed in my head insistently, like a feverish pulse.

– Anna, can you even hear me?! – my mother’s voice cut through the silence, full of irritation and… something else, elusive and frightening.

I lifted my eyes, and my appetite immediately evaporated, as if it had never existed, and I reluctantly handed her the salt shaker.

The voice… This voice beckoned, it was more important than anything in the world, like the call of a distant star. I was irresistibly drawn to leave the house, where the air grew heavier and more oppressive with each passing day. After hastily swallowing my lunch,

I quickly tidied up and, after begging my father for permission to step out under the pretense of school activities (even though all my thoughts were far from studying), I began to get ready. My hands moved with unimaginable speed, as if there were suddenly twice as many of them, a pair on each side. In the blink of an eye, everything was ready. It seems that these extra hands are just a product of my heated imagination, but no, they were really there, only my parents for some reason did not see them.

I felt born with these invisible helpers, and they did not burden me in the least. Now, in anticipation of a meeting soon, I not only wanted to have many hands, but also to fulfill my most cherished desire.

– Anna, how did you manage so quickly? – mom asked suddenly, her eyes full of suspicion. – Could it be that someone helped, and you are silent?

I looked at her in surprise and excitement, and she, seemingly amused by my reaction, laughed loudly.

– No, mom, no one helped me! – I did everything myself! I blurted out, dreaming of slipping out of the door as soon as possible. But then I heard my name again.

– I feel like you’ve got a second pair of hands! – Sania said suddenly.

I froze, not knowing what to say to her words, and why right now, at the most inopportune moment, I was called out again.

– No, mother, you think so! I don’t have any extra hands, it’s all your fantasies! – I tried to convince her.

She laughed again, but this time her laughter sounded eerie, unnatural. I had never heard such laughter from her before. For a moment, a shiver ran through me: could this be some sort of test, or had my fears found a voice? Why did everything mix together at one point?

– Watch yourself, don’t come near that house again, or else… well, you know! – her warning sounded just as I was standing on the doorstep.

I pretended to understand the hint, but deep down I knew: that was where my only road lay.

The thought that I was going to that house again pierced through me later. A slight chill ran down my skin, and inside, an inexplicable, almost mad warmth spread. Slipping out of the house after my father nodded affirmatively, busy with something in the corner – he had always supported my thirst for knowledge – I went out onto the street and only came to my senses near the Lions’s house. It was incomprehensible, but my legs had brought me here on their own. Looking up, I froze, recognizing the familiar outlines of the house and the ivy-covered facade.

“How did I end up here? Does this house possess some kind of magic that draws me in for no apparent reason? Perhaps I have offended the owners in some way, or, on the contrary, an extraordinary surprise awaits me?” – this thought brought a quiet, nervous laugh to my lips.

Stopping, I took a breath and closed my eyes, trying to anticipate the new sensations that awaited me beyond these walls, and I swayed slightly. Leaning against the rough wall, I suddenly felt something crawling on me. Opening my eyes wide, I froze in astonishment.

In some incomprehensible way, I found myself in the courtyard. Quirky shadows, like a veil, enveloped me from head to toe. Like a delicate flower, I perched on the edge of the fountain, its streams shimmering in the sunlight, reflecting countless soft, non-blinding shades. Peering deeper, I noticed exquisite, pale blue Moroccan paintings on its walls. The bottom was strewn with large crystals, their light sparkling and dancing in the sunbeams filtering through the water.

I scooped up a handful of cool water. It seemed I could sit there forever if it weren’t for someone’s shadow falling over me. Startled by the thought that someone else was in this old house, I turned slowly.

The ivy stretched its tendrils of juicy green towards me, adorned with countless tiny buds. I had never seen blooming ivy before. The pale pink flowers exuded a divine fragrance, overshadowing even the scent of roses. But what struck me the most was that the ivy seemed alive, and through its leaves, I could feel someone’s breath. The breath of a close, almost dear person.

I rose slowly, as if an orchestra was about to play and I was about to spin in a ballet spectacle. The ivy, as if alive, pulled me into its green embrace, and I was already drowning in the softness of the grass and the fragrance of flowers. We twirled in a silent, magical dance, and no dark thought about the house clouded my mind.

Intoxicated by the scents, the tenderness of the rustling leaves, and the mysterious aura of this place, I forgot everything in the world. An irresistible desire to stay here, in this beautiful yet cursed corner for someone, made me only secretly cast thoughts aside towards my parental home…

We were still swaying to the rhythm of the improvised melody. For a minute, I floated in this wonderful dance, when suddenly the music stopped sharply, as if the thread had been severed. I lost my balance, barely touching my knees to the marble floor of the fountain, so beautiful that my gaze involuntarily slipped into its depths. In it, like a waking volcano, the water bubbled. Horror gripped me as this strange scene unfolded before me.

In the very next moment, huge bubbles began to rise from the bottom, nearly the size of the fountain itself. In an instant, the water jet that had been shooting up disappeared. The bubbles, reaching the edge, formed a transparent dome. Enchanted, I leaned down to see what was hidden at the bottom, what the limits of this water miracle were. And suddenly, unexpectedly for myself, I touched the multilayered, elastic film of water.

The sky was overcast with clouds, and a silhouette appeared at the main entrance of the house. In the distance, there was the figure of a man of medium height, leaning on a cane. Standing upright, the stranger quickly approached me, extended his hand, and looked at me with genuine kindness. As if enchanted, I accepted his help. In the same second, the first drops of rain touched the ground, and the man, with an air of feigned politeness, gestured for me to enter the house, but not through the front door, as would be expected for a guest, but through a side entrance, as if secretly. I simply nodded in silence, and a strained smile involuntarily touched my lips, reflecting my confusion.

– Perhaps you are frightened, Miss Anna? – the stranger asked.

I lowered my gaze. Underfoot, like a disobedient stream, the purest water playfully babbled, rushing somewhere backward. In this house, it seemed that even the laws of nature had decided to turn upside down.

– Not at all! – I answered, trying to keep my voice from betraying the tremor that engulfed my entire body.

The dazzling smile of the man split his face as he suggested standing on the edge of the fountain. Like a shadow, he instantly appeared beside me, gripping my fingers tightly and whispering, inviting me to jump along with the current.

“This is some absurd, terrifying joke, and, perhaps, very soon I will have nothing to breathe…” – flashed through my mind.

Accepting the inevitable embrace of the icy water, I suddenly saw the stranger, illuminated by an otherworldly smile, welcoming me in a huge, light-filled hall.

My heart raced wildly, and a wave of indescribable feelings overwhelmed me. My eyes widened in astonishment, and as I pinched myself on the arm, I desperately tried to understand: is this reality or a whimsical dream? When the storm of emotions subsided, I was amazed to discover that there wasn’t a single drop on me! Remarkably, this incredible journey with the stranger evoked not a drop of regret. It seemed completely natural to madly leap into the fountain and remain utterly dry!

Taking a deep breath, I moved through the dimness of the hall towards the silhouette that seemed to hover just within reach. But with each step, echoing in the silence, it eluded me like a mirage woven from shadows.

My tongue felt as if it were frozen to the roof of my mouth, shackled by icy silence.

– It’s just an illusion created by the fall! Soon everything will disperse, don’t be afraid, – a whispering male voice sounded.

I didn’t see his lips move, but each word resonated clearly, like a crystal bell in the stillness.

At that moment, a cascade of dazzling lights exploded, causing my eyes to freeze in astonishment.

Thousands of sparks covered the ceiling of the huge hall, which, despite everything, seemed painfully familiar. The marble floor of marsala color and white stone was like the canvas of a genius artist – such beauty cannot be found even in the most exquisite paintings! In its mirrored surface, artificial light played, absorbing the entire palette of colors and creating strange, delightful patterns.

Only later did I realize that it was not lamps, but myriads of candles, elegantly nestled in the crystal embrace of candle holders, reaching upwards. Their warm glow enveloped me, giving rise to a vague premonition of awakening. But awakening did not come. After all, one cannot wake up from something that has long become a part of you.

In the very heart of the hall, a golden lotus bloomed on the floor, as if woven from sunlight. Enchanted, I slowly approached to examine this celestial magnificence. Milk-white granite columns, like guardians of eternity, lined the perimeter, crowned with gilded candelabra, where the flickering flames of living candles danced. Beneath the high ceiling, like a heavenly vault, an ancient mosaic sprawled, where angels with harps poured forth their divine music. Their delicate shimmering seemed to fill the hall with magic and tranquility. The gaze was lost in the labyrinth of arches adorned with the finest gold leaf, playing in the rays of the rising sun, like precious gemstones.

Ahead of me, like a portal to another world, loomed an enormous stained-glass window in the shape of a semi-arch, shrouded in heavy emerald-green velvet embroidered with silver threads, like a frosty pattern.

“I feel like I’ve stepped into a fairy-tale castle where a beautiful prince must surely live!” – flashed through my mind.

Several wrought-iron chairs with seats of scarlet silk, softly sinking into downy softness (indeed downy, as I involuntarily sneezed), were arranged near the black piano. It seemed that the instrument should be covered with a thick layer of the dust of oblivion, but, to my amazement, its lacquered surface shone with cleanliness, as if it had just been touched by the hands of someone who kept their home tidy.

Chapter 6.
Back to the past

The grand doors silently stood locked. An unknown force drew me to them, compelling me to reach out my hand. The touch was almost realized when a sound came from behind – a quiet, elderly cough. Turning around, I froze. Before me stood a man about sixty-five, tall and sturdy, with a noble profile marked by a bump on his nose and slightly sunken cheeks. But what struck me most were his eyes – sky-blue, in the depths of which sparkled a warmth that made it impossible to look away. He was dressed in a black velvet coat, beneath which a starched shirt with a high collar peeked out, a brown vest from which a golden chain was showing, a small watch on his wrist, and strict trousers that ended in boots. He stood there, studying me with a gentle and scrutinizing gaze.

It seemed that only a moment passed before he broke the silence. There was a long-held, almost decayed desire in his voice to share words with someone who was outside the house.

– Hello, pretty child! How did you get here? – his question echoed, as if a whirlwind had swept through the hall.

And I, like a lost child, began my short but important story: about the gap in the wall, entwined with enchanted ivy, about the whispering fountain, about that irresistible force that had drawn me here in recent days. He listened, without interrupting, and when I fell silent, his face lit up with a smile, which became a beautiful conclusion to that mesmerizing visage. He approached and asked me to extend my hand. I obediently placed my palm in his hand. That feeling – tenderness, reverence, and a kind of quiet submission reflected in his eyes – settled in my heart for a long time.

It is impossible to convey in words the confusion of feelings that overwhelmed me. It seemed that my world had turned upside down. Thousands of questions swarmed in my head, addressed to this strange old man, who was relentlessly moving away. And when I tried to approach again, he merely gestured for me to stop, as if forbidding conversation. To my silent question answered… silence.

In the blink of an eye, the old man disappeared, as if he had dissolved into thin air, and in his place emerged Arni, the man who brought me to this house. He explained that it is hard for Ivan to see children, for he once lost his own.

– Once, the house echoed with the bubbling joy of children’s laughter, and then trembled with the screams and inconsolable cries of Anastasia Orlova after the mysterious disappearance of the children. The master of the house sank into silence forever, like a tomb, – Arni echoed.

And then he seemed to reveal to me a terrible truth: none of Ivan Lion’s children were ever found!

– They were playing not far from the house, by the pond in the clearing where they loved to catch butterflies! – Arni added bitterly.

He recounted that his master was well aware of the rumors and tales that surrounded the story of the house and its unfortunate family. My heart ached with pity. I imagined all the pain he had to endure, the unbearable suffering, the coldness of loneliness, and the relentless approach of old age.

And indeed, at first glance, one wouldn’t say that this stately man is an old man. There was a fire in his eyes, like an unquenchable spark of hope.

This strange twist of fate, this incredible story, was forever imprinted in my heart from the lips of my new friend. Everything seemed like a terrifying made-up story. After all, a sensible person always distinguishes truth from fiction, reality from fantasy.

Perhaps he harbored some mystical power that drew him back like a moth to the flame? Or, having healed deep emotional wounds, he decided to plunge again into the whirlpool of mixed feelings, where joy once danced hand in hand with sorrow?

I had lost track of time, wandering through the labyrinths of thoughts and shadows. An hour? Two? It felt like an entire lifetime had passed. But one thing I knew for sure: if I didn’t get out of here soon, my parents’ anxiety would turn into a maddening fear that could overshadow even this tragic abode.

I called Arni, who was standing nearby, but he didn’t respond. After a moment, as if answering my unspoken question, he said:

– It’s time for you to return, Miss Anna! May I help you?

I blushed to the tips of my fingers. No one had ever addressed me so respectfully.

– What do you mean, Miss?! – I blurted out so quickly that Arni asked me to repeat. – Please don’t be angry, Miss. In this house, we address all guests as sir or madam, and you are our guest! – he monotonously said.

I was struck by his deliberate slowness in speech, every word seemed to be forged with effort, but firmly. However, I had neither the time nor the desire to decipher this peculiarity, and I insisted that he hurry home.

– And now let me see off you, for it is already getting late, and you may encounter troubles! – Arni continued, as if reading my thoughts.

To my surprise, Arni was extremely reticent. His eyes squinted after each of my words, as if he were recording everything in his head. He seemed to me a conversational partner whose mind sparkled like dew in the sun, just like the owner of this house, steeped in silence. But the strange thing was that neither of them had a passion for conversations, although…

– You still don’t know much, Miss! – and a smile touched his lips.

I smiled slightly in response but remained silent. I had no more questions for Arni.

Thoughts returned to Lyon once again; I hoped to get answers from him. But Arni, as if anticipating my intentions, quickly stepped away from me and then disappeared altogether. A few minutes passed, and his silhouette appeared in the distance again. With the lively energy of a young man, he approached me, looked me straight in the eyes, and made me promise that I would never try to open that locked door.

I blinked, and the only thing I remembered was the snap of fingers. And then I was already beyond the fence of the house. As it turned out, time had flown by unnoticed there, like in a magical dream.

The sun was setting, and a storm was approaching. I hadn’t seen such black clouds since our basement got flooded. I looked around and saw strangely dressed people, as if I had spent several decades in captivity, and time had reversed. Everything around me was different: a different style of clothing, strange speech, as if I had entered the era of serfdom, unfamiliar plants, trees…

None of this resembled what I had left when I entered the house behind the fence. I didn’t understand where I was. The place I had left did not match where I found myself now. It felt like Arni’s snap of fingers had transported me to the past.

– Why here, why at this time, and to this house where there is no one I know?! – I asked myself aloud.

The realization of whether this was somehow connected to me, to that house, and to the events that had happened here once, wouldn’t let me rest. I had completely forgotten about my hunger. A wave of foreboding, sharp with novelty, washed over me in this place where dreams become reality. Turning back to the house, I recognized in its facade the echo of that home I had seen in dreams.

Warm walls, the same roof – the building remained in the same condition. True, the fence became lower, not as high, but the ivy still covered the facade of the building, although with not very dense vegetation. The fence was a beautiful wrought iron design with sharp spikes at the tips of the bars. An unspoken silence reigned in the yard, and to reach the house, one had to trudge down the alley where dwarf trees, as if in eternal bow, leaned all the way to the ground under the onslaught of the fierce wind. Through the intertwining branches, like guardians of twilight, lamp posts stood, emitting a ghostly light.

I had nowhere to go, and I sat down to rest by the house. The ground was warm after the sun, and I allowed myself to think for a moment. Thirst and hunger began to haunt me. The thought of finding a place to stay lingered in my mind like an unsolved puzzle, and just as I was about to get up, I noticed a middle-aged woman approaching me, short in stature, with a mane of fiery-red hair, like tongues of flame, and a blissful smile lighting up her face. It seemed that she was completely oblivious to the clouds gathering over the city, and with undisguised, almost childlike joy, she started talking to me.

– Are you a maid? Did you come to work for us? – the question sounded.

I had never worked before, but I knew that any work was useful, even at my age, and to my surprise, I nodded affirmatively. I hastily got up.

The woman looked kind and well-groomed. There was nothing off-putting about her appearance, but nothing particularly attractive either. She was herself, and I felt drawn to her, as if to an old acquaintance.

The road was smooth, with fine gravel underfoot. My red-haired companion was mumbling something to herself, occasionally glancing back at me as if she were afraid of losing me.

– Please don’t lag behind! We have important family events coming up soon, and we need fresh energy! – she said as if to herself.

The woman led me through the front entrance to a spacious living room with many windows. To my surprise, everything in the living room was arranged with great taste: a massive table, six carved chairs, two armchairs to match the interior stood on both sides of the brown sofa. In the middle stood a small glass table, on which a lamp flickered, filling the room with the aroma of a coniferous forest. Over the fireplace, like a trophy from frozen eternity, a deer hung with extinguished eyes, and at its foot, like an obedient guardian, the skin of an unknown beast stretched out.

A huge chandelier with multi-colored lamps, an open black piano, several large paintings, among which the majestic canvas “The Last Supper” stood out, and many other interesting things.

“Why is everything here different from where I was a few moments ago?” – I asked myself.

Upon reaching the door of the office, my companion froze, and I, obeying an unspoken signal, stopped behind her. She turned around, casting a fleeting glance, and asked me to wait until the owner was ready to receive me. Well, I had no choice but to submit. Resigning my impatience with thoughts of life-giving moisture and perhaps a modest snack, I settled on an inconspicuous bench against the wall, like a shadow waiting for its moment.

I must have sat there for an eternity, eagerly absorbing every corner of the room with my gaze. An indescribable feeling, as if I had returned to familiar places, did not leave me. Hunger, tension, and the kaleidoscope of experiences I had endured relentlessly pushed my body toward sleep.

The agonizing wait by the office door stretched long. Hunger gnawed at my insides, and I wished for just one thing: for my future in this house to finally be clarified. And as if in response to my thoughts, the door silently opened, revealing a man to me.

At that moment, I was pierced by the icy touch of unprecedented terror – as if a ghost from an ancient legend had appeared in the gloom. But it was not a vision, it was the very old man, sixty-five years old… only young, as if time had turned back. Stunned, I froze like a statue, unable to utter a word. The blood receded from my fingertips, turning them to ice, and when he stepped forward to greet me with a beaming smile, fear reached its peak, severing the thread of consciousness, and I fell into the bottomless abyss of oblivion.

In an instant, a small circle of worried servants formed around me, while Lion, a bit further away, kept his eyes fixed on me, sitting in an armchair. When consciousness began to return, confusion arose in the crowd, and he quickly rose and approached me.

That time became a priceless revelation to me about the tragedy of a family I seemed to have known my whole life, but could never have imagined I would become part of its story.

The paths of fate are unknown, and my fate was no exception.

A thick fog of voices, like a shroud, enveloped me. Faintly discernible voices, timid and quiet, as if afraid to disturb my sleep, hurried footsteps of the maid and the rustle of starched skirts sounded like a silent dance of falling leaves. All of this wove into a ghostly image of a serene harbor, a dim premonition of approaching happiness. The distant crowing of roosters, the timid whispering of birds behind the huge window, the muffled barking of yard dogs, and someone’s gentle, enchanting singing, filling the heart with a bright, poignant sadness – everything breathed such simple, fragile, piercing soulful warmth.

All this reached me as if from afar, through the wavering veil of drowsiness. When I finally emerged from oblivion, the face of a woman was leaning over me, and her voice was so tender that, were it not for the dazzling rays breaking through the parted crowd, I would have mistaken her for an angel descending from heaven.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I tried to make out the features of the wondrous stranger. Her beauty was otherworldly, as if woven from moonlight and morning dew.

– Perhaps you could tell us where you are from and what your name is? – her voice suddenly sounded.

I was seized by anxiety, my fingers nervously tapped on my leg. I had never felt such shyness among people before, but everything was different here.

– My name is Anna, I far from… – I hadn’t finished speaking when Lion interrupted me, as if warning me against saying too much.

– The girl needs rest! Everyone return to their duties, she needs peace! – he commanded authoritatively, and as if by the wave of a magic wand, the entourage vanished, absorbed in the whirlpool of everyday affairs.

My eyes must have grown wide with astonishment, which did not escape her perceptive gaze. She slightly opened her mouth as if about to say something, but the words froze on her tongue. Lion, watching this scene, crouched down next to his spouse and was the first to break the silence:

– What has struck you so, my dear? – he asked with a tender smile.

– I’m just feeling unwell, – I whispered, my voice betraying me with a tremor.

– We can call a doctor, if you wish. Let him see what has clouded the radiance of such a beautiful creature and frightened it so, – he gifted me with a warm, reassuring smile.

– Oh no, thank you, – I barely breathed out, feeling my strength leaving me.

The woman standing next to me was Anastasia Orlova. It seemed to me as if I were dreaming; her beauty appeared so unreal. Her slim waist, delicate hands wrapped around me as she helped me up from the couch, were so soft that down felt like a rough piece of iron in comparison. My heart raced wildly, trembling before the embodiment of grace and femininity, at the mere thought of this woman.

– You’ve come to work in our home, and we accept you! We lack such a pure and open person. I can’t say that my servants don’t meet our standards, but we need a breath of fresh air! – he said almost in one breath.

“An extraordinary voice!” – echoed in my mind.

He stood two steps away, and a mysterious smile played at the corners of his lips. Then the man nodded affirmatively to his wife. Anastasia bestowed upon him a radiant smile, like a ray of sunshine, and turning to the servants, commanded them to teach me the intricacies of household management. She herself, easily rising from her knees, flitted away to the nursery, where the children, like whirlwinds, raced around the room, filling the house with ringing cries and unbridled energy. Lion, on the other hand, swiftly crossed the space and disappeared into his office, located behind a wall, as if behind an impregnable fortress.

Time slipped through my fingers like sand. And so, the clock struck six, but it was not eighteen; it was six in the morning!

Noticing a young girl nearby, I hopefully addressed her:

– Is it really dawn?!

– Indeed it is, my lady, – she replied with a courtesy so rare in these parts that it seemed before me stood not a peasant’s daughter, but a young countess, who had somehow gotten lost among the labyrinths of houses.

– But how? Everyone is on their feet, everyone is bustling around, is that even possible?! – I couldn’t stop my questions.

– We are always on alert, miss, that is our job. And I believe you will soon come to appreciate the charms of our way of life, – the maid whispered with a barely perceptible reproach.

At that moment, another maid entered and announced that breakfast was served. For a while, we sat at the table, enjoying breakfast and laughing at the jokes of the young people who had joined us. But there was something attractive, something magical about these people, something more than just family ties or friendly relations. Lyon’s nobility combined with the ethereal purity of his wife. Lion and Anastasia were the perfect couple, that harmonious tandem that every family dreams of. My desire to stay in this house grew stronger with every hour, watching the relationship between the hosts and the servants. I was an additional source of light for them, just as they were for me…

Chapter 7.
The smell of home

– Girl, wake up! Time doesn’t wait, it’s time to get up! – the persistent voice of the maid buzzed insistently at my ear.

Her sharp call pulled me from the embrace of sleep. A hum, like a swarm of bees in a hive, filled the space around me. The mixture of voices, requests, and quiet bickering created a cacophony, but there was neither malice nor reproach in it. Everyone seemed to be floating in the current of their duties, and in this whirlpool, a strange idyll reigned.

Everything around spun like in a kaleidoscope. As soon as the name Lion was mentioned, the servants scattered to the corners like frightened mice. The man was neither a tyrant nor a despot. He was respected by everyone, both within the household and beyond its walls. He was loved even by the neighborhood children, not only for the Christmas gifts generously showered from his hands but also for the huge heart that had become a rarity in our day. But he was strict – strict with his family, with the servants, with the workers, of whom he had quite a few. This strictness gave him a gloomy appearance, but at the right moments he was open and kind to everyone.

This peace-loving and freedom-loving man was so immersed in his thoughts that he did not notice the loud laughter of his children, who, according to their mother, were having quite a romp. He slowly headed to his study and began his paperwork.

– He needs to leave soon! You’ll have time to get to know each other better, but for now, back to work! – interrupted my thoughts the maid.

– Leave? How far? – I asked again.

– First to France, and then to Brazil, just for a few weeks! – she chirped.

I found the girl’s speech interesting. She was responsive and quite talkative.

– What’s the reason for his trip? – I couldn’t help but ask again.

– It’s about the factory! Our master has a lot of forest under his ownership! – she said and smiled.

I smiled back, touched by her childlike spontaneity. This naive openness or perhaps skillfully feigned nonchalance seemed like a good omen for our future friendship.

The steps of the steep staircase, like the agitated keys of an old piano, led upwards. Flickering candles in the candelabras placed along the walls cast ghostly reflections, emitting not only light but also a slight chill mixed with a barely perceptible scent of incense and dust. My timid knock on the door dissolved into silence, and after a torturous three minutes of waiting, I, filled with disappointment, turned to leave.

Suddenly, it became stuffy from the locked windows and doors, despite the wonderful weather outside. I made my way to the long sofa by the window, but my gaze was caught by a painting modestly hanging across from me. It depicted a shipwreck; the sound of waves and the creaking of wood reached me with such intensity that it stirred deep emotions within me. My thoughts turned to Sania and Herman, and a sense of longing crept into my heart.

Surfacing from the depths of my own thoughts, I noticed the bustle of the servants. Like agitated bees, they hurriedly donned their finest attire and polished everything with renewed enthusiasm. And then, like thunder on a clear day, the news arrived – Lion was hosting a ball in honor of his daughter’s birthday!

“A real ball… I have never been to a real ball!” – the thought pierced me like a spark.

Shaking off my stupor, I jumped to my feet and, brushing off nonexistent dust, hurried after the servants into their bustling hive of activity, anticipating the magic of preparation.

The soft atmosphere of the laundry room, where Azazel, the head servant, had brought me – the very girl whose room was behind the eerie staircase – resembled a dollhouse more than anything else. The laundry was filled with dolls, hundreds of dolls. Small, huge ones the size of a human, medium, girl dolls, boy dolls. Nowhere, in my opinion, could there be as many dolls as in Lion’s laundry.

Of course, I couldn’t help but wonder why so many dolls were needed and who they belonged to, and why they were located in the laundry instead of a children’s room or a specially designated room?!

And here is the crazy story I heard from Azazel, who herself was deeply impressed when she first saw them here.

On the fortieth day after the birth of their firstborn Ivan, an unusual old man wandered into their house. No one knew who he was or where he came from. He wore a black cloak with a hood, boots matching the cloak, a small bag over his shoulder, a long white beard down to his waist, and an unusual knitted pouch in his hands the size of a matchbox. The old man constantly moved the pouch from hand to hand, as if playing dice. With a slow gait, he approached Lion and, glancing over Anastasia’s shoulder at the child, began to mumble something. Everyone froze in anticipation, trying to understand who this old man was and what he was saying.

Suddenly, the old man, grinning, looked closely into Lion’s face. Not taking his eyes off him, he began to recite either prayers or quatrains resembling songs of the Renaissance. His smooth hand movements and harmonious nodding created a soothing effect on everyone. It took less than five minutes for everyone in the hall, except for Anastasia and Ivan, who were surrounded on all sides by columns of lions, to freeze. Monotonous music played on the orchestra’s instruments, and the enormous ballroom started to shrink to incredibly small sizes. It seemed as if the old man wished to fit everyone into his small bag, which he had not parted with for a second.

The attendees shook their heads as if frozen in time. In their misty eyes, no emotions were reflected, only emptiness. There was neither fear nor surprise, just wonder around.

The old man’s sleep was interrupted by a conversation that he himself had started. Glancing at Anastasia, he whispered. In the blink of an eye, the faces of Lion and Anastasia twisted, while the old man continued to whisper, just a little louder:

– It’s too early for her to appear in our age?! – he suddenly scolded himself.

– Who is this ‘she’ you are talking about?! – asked Lion.

– There is no point in continuing if that girl is here! Send her away immediately! – the old man insisted again…

Lion didn’t understand who was being talked about! He realized that the old man was losing his mind and therefore was speaking strange words.

– If she stays, misfortune will befall you, and dolls, gather many dolls. They will protect your home from her and from him too! – he continued.

Then the old man, as if lifted by an invisible hand, twirled in a whirlwind of dry leaves and was scattered by the autumn wind. As if a veil of oblivion had descended upon all those in the hall who heard his words, erasing the very memory of the meeting. Lion, convinced that this was merely a warning from the uninvited guest, allowed his anxiety to recede slightly but ordered to acquire as many dolls as possible and hide them where children’s eyes would never find them.

But who were these “he” and “she”, Lion struggled to understand over time!

Having finished her mysterious tale, Azazel placed her finger to her lips, as if sealing my mouth with a spell of silence. She told me the past of the dolls and the eerie story of the old man not for idle discussions, but so that I would become yet another keeper of the secret that hovered over the slumbering toys in this house.

After that, Azazel fell into silence, which, like sharp needles, pricked my curiosity. No one had made me languish in such excruciating anticipation before! After all, she didn’t say a word about the secrets of this house, leaving me captive to speculation.

Perhaps she had nothing to say, or maybe she simply didn’t wish to reveal her secrets. I accepted her character since I am just a guest among strangers, desperately trying to glimpse humanity in each of them.

– To be fair, Anna, I don’t even know who we were talking about; the owners refuse to say anything about it! So for me, just like for you, it’s a true secret that apparently is not destined to be revealed! – Azazel replied after a moment.

Her short answer caught me off guard, and in confusion, I could only helplessly spread my arms.

Having listened to the intriguing story, Azazel suddenly raised her head sharply, as if awakening, and exclaimed:

– So, let’s get to work! Don’t forget, there’s a ball today, it seems?

I jumped in surprise.

Her enthusiasm sparked brightly, igniting my heart as well. Burning with the anticipation of the impending whirlwind, I quickly heeded her words and within a few minutes was ready to dive into the very heart of the events.

Chapter 8.
The ball – masquerade

My little world flipped upside down in the blink of an eye. I left the laundry room, uplifted by the anticipation of wonders, wishing to hold onto this feeling of lightness for the whole day. Within the walls where prejudices and fear reigned, my desire to attend the aristocrAtik ball was a rebellion. Azazel remained in the laundry, immersed in the routine of preparing the staff for the inevitable strictness, as she was an experienced mentor and knew how to give examples to each, how to calm unruly emotions, or smooth out unexpected rough edges. She reserved personal remarks for private conversations. No one but Azazel enjoyed privileges similar to those granted by the master of the house and his wife.

At that fateful hour, passing by her “cubby hole,” I was stunned by the explosion of voices, whose words pierced my heart like shards of glass.

– Don’t you think you’re overreacting and turning into a real witch? – Christina defiantly shot at Azazel.

A stifling silence hung in the air. It seemed that both had realized their blunder – the excessive demanding nature and punctuality that Azazel had so longed for!

– Well, hello, child! – suddenly came the voice of the master of the house, who was oddly leaning on one leg.

– Good day! I’m just leaving. I need nothing more here. With your permission, I will go prepare for the ball! – I replied, trying to maintain my composure.

– Of course, but you’re not planning to show up at the ball looking like that, are you? – he asked with a sly smile.

– That’s exactly why I’m planning to drop by to see Azazel. I hope she will help me! – I replied, trying not to betray my nervousness.

– Excellent! – his ominous laugh echoed, sending a chill down my spine.

I barely had a moment to gather myself when Lion grabbed me by the wrist, scorching me with his gaze.

– And yet, who are you to lord Lion? – he hissed, and an unhealthy fire flared up in his eyes.

I don’t know how it would have ended if it weren’t for Azazel. As if sensing trouble, she swiftly flew to me, grabbed my hand, and without saying a word, pulled me along, leaving Lion in confusion.

– Don’t talk to him, got it? Next time, just leave! – she repeated several times, looking off to the side.

Azazel was clearly frightened by such a harsh remark from “Lion.” She expected rudeness, but she could never have foreseen such a direct question to Anna.

“After all, the real Ivan would never have allowed himself such behavior, why did he act like that?” – my thoughts were bewildered.

I glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to four. There were only five hours left until the ball, and chaos reigned in the house. All the inhabitants of this enormous palace were agitated and bustling, but the speed at which things were being done even astonished the wizards.

“What is happening? Why is he asking such strange questions?” – this question would not leave my mind

– Azazel, does the master often ask such questions? – I couldn’t help but ask.

– This is not the master! And don’t ask any more questions. Better get ready for the holiday and tidy up the house. A lot of guests are expected today, and there’s so much to do! – Azazel cut me off, and her face immediately darkened.

– What do you mean – not the master? Then who is he? – I continued to press.

– Anna, this house conceals many mysteries and secrets. In time, you will learn everything! – Azazel replied coldly.

We did not return to this conversation. It was clear that my friend did not want to discuss either Leon or his family. She was extremely agitated that evening. A smile never touched her face; she was focused and angry.

And indeed, everything turned out just as Azazel had said. The paintings were not hanging in their places, the glasses were not wiped, and the tables were missing tablecloths.

In the hallway, I saw two maids carrying dishes – not in their hands, but as if they were levitating them in the air. It was no trouble for them to carry a huge amount of kitchenware, as they were confident in their abilities. I stopped them and asked where I could find tablecloths. Returning with starched linens in their hands, I got to work. Soon, two more girls joined me. And so, half an hour later, the table was beautifully arranged. A pair of candlesticks on each table, placed a decent distance apart, gave the hall a sense of solemnity and sophistication. The polished dishes shone with cleanliness, and the fragrance of flowers, arranged by Anastasia herself, filled the room with a distinctive atmosphere.

The candles in the chandeliers reflected in the porcelain, and a gentle breeze seeping into the room through the partially opened windows brought freshness. It seemed that the gods themselves would have wanted to be in this beautiful and cozy hall. Having finished the preparations, I went to relax on the veranda with a clear conscience.

When I was left alone, I heard a distant thumping, as if construction was underway. There was a smell of resin, and the sound of a hammer didn’t stop for a long time.

Peeking through the door, I saw an unusual sight – it was as if I had been transported to the past. Before me stood a small table, and behind it was a fountain. The very fountain through which I ended up here. I was scared to approach it, fearing that old man Arni would send me back to my parents, who were probably already worried about my long absence.

Sometimes you forget that a dream is right there, before your eyes, within you, in your hands. But for some reason, we either do not want to, or do not see it, and with every step do not draw closer to it, but instead push it away? That’s why many of us are unhappy. We sift through memories of childhood and adolescence in search of the flaw that prevents us from enjoying this world, our lives, and the opportunities that the Universe offers. We send streams of energy to distant corners of our minds and wait for a miracle that may never happen. We begin to think and assume that everything is bad. But everything is just the opposite!

The world is so vast and multifaceted that every step we take is doomed to success. We, in turn, wait for some sort of mercy and therefore live our lives with difficulty, leaving it without having resolved anything.

“In my case, Lion, the wealthy aristocrat, was initially kind to everyone. Why has he changed so much? Maybe he intends to learn more about me than he knows? On the other hand, why would he need that? After all, I am only in his house for a short time, and I don’t need his favor!” – thoughts swarmed in my head.

I turned around and hurried to leave this strange place that was filled with cold, and I found myself back in the hall, where the guests fluttered like butterflies, where crystal sparkled on the tables, reflecting the purity of the decor.

– Anna, why are you standing there? Guests haven’t been seated in that part of the hall yet! – Azazel admonished me.

But I didn’t hear her words.

“I need to unravel the mystery of this house’s connection to me, and nothing else!” – pulsed in my head.

I had many questions, but I didn’t know whom to ask. I had no desire to ask Leon after his strange behavior, and it would be inappropriate to turn to the staff. The only person I could reach out to was Azazel. But my friend had been secretive and uncommunicative lately. She also remained silent in response to the colleagues questions.

“This girl clearly knows something and might be protecting me. But from what or whom?” – I wondered.

It was as if certain forces were on my side at that moment, and I was destined to witness truly wondrous things in this house, bright and incredible…

I heard someone calling my name just as I began to search for the housekeeper. And how surprised I was when Azazel, aligning herself with me, handed me a small napkin as if it were something precious that should not leave my hands until the end of the reception.

– Are you even listening to me? Where are your thoughts during such an important event? – I heard her dissatisfied voice.

– Repeat that again! – I asked.

She opened her eyes wide and sighed. After a few seconds of silence, she spoke in an annoyed tone:

– What are you planning to do? In that part of the hall, the guests are still not seated!

I straightened up immediately and saw that people were crowding together like ants, unable to move. I hurried over to that strange group, and within a few minutes, all the guests were seated, happy and content.

I didn’t perceive Azazel’s words as something offensive. I didn’t want to argue with anyone, especially not with her.

That evening, despite everything, I not only didn’t mention Azazel and the mysterious Leon, but I also managed to get into an unpleasant situation right at the celebration. After all, there is always a hunter looking to show off their catch, but in this case, the hunter was out of luck!

It all began like this. The guests, as if by the wave of a magic wand, started arriving in their luxurious carriages right at nine o’clock – just as true aristocrats should. The eyes were dazzled by magnificent tailcoats and top hats of various colors and styles, shoes polished to a mirror shine, modest bow ties, and golden pocket watches on chains, counting precious time. The ladies sparkled in rich dresses adorned with intricate embroidery, their lavish hairstyles seemed like works of art. Slender and stout, they were draped in jewels that sparkled in the candlelight. Many of them, to my surprise, managed to appear with umbrellas, although the sky had been flawlessly clear for two weeks. I was overcome with curiosity, and I couldn’t help but ask Azazel:

– Why the umbrellas in such wonderful weather?

– She gave me a long look and answered dryly:

– They seem strange to me too, but asking such important people about the reasons that concern us is the height of impropriety! And yes, Anna, I beg you, don’t bring up this conversation with anyone, at least not today! – and, without changing her gloomy expression, my friend dissolved into the crowd of guests.

I remained silent, although the feeling that Azazel was withholding something about these umbrellas did not leave me.

“Why trouble myself with the presence of umbrellas among the guests when today is such a wonderful evening?!” – I tried to convince myself.

Probably an hour passed before I, stopping to catch my breath from the stuffiness of the hall and the countless number of people, turned around and was immensely surprised.

Veronica was standing before me. The little girl was trembling all over from the cold, her huge eyes looked at me with such a plea that it took my breath away. Her unruly hair hung in strands as if she had been running for a long time, escaping from some pursuit, and was pretty sweaty. The bare feet were covered in dirt, and it was clear that the child had not been bathed and definitely had not been put to bed.

– Anna, I’m cold, and I want to go to my mother! – she repeated, looking at me as if I were a savior.

All my thoughts instantly focused on the child who appeared as if out of nowhere!

– Baby, how did you end up here and why aren’t you in bed? – I asked, trying to stay calm.

At that moment, Lion turned in our direction, and his gaze instantly froze on his barefoot daughter. A couple of moments later, Victoria came up to us. Unlike her sister, she was shod, but her appearance left much to be desired. I realized that both girls were very scared of something. Their palms were damp with sweat, and their eyes burned with fear. The clothes were stained with some kind of paint, from which an unpleasant, distinct smell emanated. I took their hands, and we walked quickly to the stairs leading to the rooms. At that moment, I heard a whisper behind me.

– They’re Lions’ daughters! How big they have become! Probably, they already go to the gymnasium! Look, who do we have there without shoes? – the whisperers wouldn’t be quiet.

The restrained laughter, rolling through the hall like an icy wind, made everyone turn towards us. Ignoring the curious gazes, I continued to climb the stairs, tightly holding the girls’ hands.

– Come on, girls, we won’t let these people mock our bare feet! – I urged them, feeling my cheeks flush.

– Stop, we need to take a look at them! Do you hear me?! – a harsh shout rang out, and I realized – that it was directed at us.

Barely had we taken another step into the corridor where the rooms began, when the harsh shout, like a whip crack, cut through the dimness that prevailed, blocking our path.

– She’s probably deaf, shout louder! – and laughter echoed through the hall again.

The woman’s words hurt me deeply. I couldn’t even imagine that grown and educated people could allow themselves such coarse and harsh expressions.

Both girls looked at me at the same time, and at that moment I firmly decided that the “deaf” would definitely show them that not only was her hearing perfectly fine, but so was her imagination.

I stopped and, not letting go of the children’s hands, began to search for that very “deaf” woman – a plump lady linking arms with a young man, who seemed to be igniting her curiosity from the unkempt children. The pale ginger mass of her hair was adorned with small polka-dotted flowers. I closed my eyes and mentally said:

– I wish to see her give a nickel before she apologizes to the children! – I whispered under my breath.

I don’t know how it could have happened, but at the same time, there were screams and laughter in the hall. When I opened my eyes, I saw in front of me that very woman with a piggy face, absolutely pink like a young piglet. She was either grunting or crying. Her squeal was audible outside, and the guests who hadn’t managed to get in on time burst into the hall as if caught in a snowstorm. Seeing such a scene, everyone started laughing, and all that was left of Leon’s aristocrAtik reception was just a name.

Anastasia hurried to us, while the hall continued to buzz, asking the owner of this abode who I was and where I had come from.

– What is happening here? – asked Anastasia softly, leaning down to the children.

– I don’t know, madam. But I know for sure that the children got dirty somewhere in mud, paint, and someone is even barefoot! – I hurried to respond.

– All clear! Would you be so kind as to take the children to the bathroom and then put them to bed? – asked the hostess.

– Yes, of course, I will take care of it right away! – was my response.

Anastasia, tenderly holding her children close and kissing them, hurried me along so that the children wouldn’t witness the further development of the story, which seemed to be just gaining momentum.

A true bacchanalia ruled in the hall. Everyone was swirling around, bombarding Lion with questions about me and the children. Someone even thought he did it on purpose to introduce his daughters to the guests. But apparently, there was not a single sane person in the hall who understood that Lion and his wife least of all wanted strangers to see their children. They protected them from prying eyes, believing that it would lead to nothing good.

A woman, as if pierced by shame, froze with a coin on her face, trembling with humiliation. She desperately tried to maintain some semblance of composure, but fear and disgust at what had happened tormented her. Barely had I dissolved behind the wall into the living room when Lion slipped in like a shadow.

– Where is she? Call her here, Ivan! – she kept insisting.

Madam Dupon, whose surname came from a noble and aristocrAtik French family, was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

– I can’t do it, Julie, she is busy with the children! – Lion said calmly, as if the previous woman, without a penny, was standing before him.

He desperately wanted to burst out laughing, but it would have been taken as an insult, and he was doing his best to hold back the heaving impulse. Laughter rolled in waves, and each time Lyon lowered his head even further, trying to avoid awkward glances.

– Great, I’ll wait until she is free! – her snorting statement rang out.

– As you say, Madam Julie, she will be with you soon! – Lion replied and hurried to distance himself, bowing his head in a respectful bow.

He suggested she sit in a small armchair that stood nearby the sofa, where the other guests were partially settled.

They, like a flock of sparrows, whispered to each other, quietly grunting in rhythm with her comments, and looked at her as if she were a peculiar jester at court. In some eyes, there was a flicker of pity, while in others – malicious triumph: it served her right for her quarrelsome tongue and nasty temper.

Only after a long forty minutes, or maybe even more, having assured herself that the children’s dreams were deep and tranquil, Anna, creeping like a shadow, slipped into the corridor. There, in the dim light, Lion was already waiting for her. Not expecting this encounter, she hesitated for a moment, but still moved towards him. Leon, with his characteristic nobility, asked her to restore Madame Dupon to her former self, and upon hearing her response, he froze in astonishment.

– She must apologize, otherwise the coin will stay with her forever! – I almost silently whispered.

– Apologize? To whom, Anna? – Lion asked in bewilderment.

– In front of the children and in front of me! – the girl replied shyly.

Lion remained in such a state of astonishment for several dozen seconds more. He showed no emotions, as her words touched him deeply with their straightforwardness and sincerity.

– Come with me. Now we will see how Madame Dupon herself will react to this! – Lion said hurriedly, grinning widely.

We descended into the hall. In an instant, everything fell silent and froze. A ringing silence ensued, and the rhythmic ticking of a huge grandfather clock could clearly be heard. I braced myself for a deluge of nasty words, but I did not expect that the silence would be broken by Lion, who decided to untie the tight knot I had tied, but untied by a cantankerous woman in body.

– So, Madame Dupon, allow me to introduce you to Anna, our new maid. She is shy, but her heart is full of kindness, and I am sure she can’t wait to express her ‘respect’ to you! – proclaimed Lion, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

Without a moment’s hesitation, as if possessed by an unknown force, I replied to her with words full of fury:

– If you do not apologize to the children and to me, your nose will forever lose its former shape! With each new insult, with each poisonous word, it will grow, like that of a fairy-tale witch, becoming grotesque with malice and hatred, turning into a growth on your face!

At these words, her hands turned cold. Her face blazed with a crimson flame, and Madame Julie instantly transformed into a real witch.

– Apologize… to you?! You are nothing but a poor ragamuffin, blown in from some God-forsaken village! How can I, a person of my standing, utter words of apology to an orphan like you?! – the woman hissed, like a snake, her smile laced with venomous malice, as each breath was accompanied by a contemptuous grunt.

And at that very moment, as the last word slipped from her lips, her nose began to grow uncontrollably. It didn’t just get bigger; it swelled, filling with the juice of lies like an overripe fruit, surpassing its previous size by twice as much. A piercing silence hung in the hall. The eyes of the attendees bulged from their sockets like snails from their shells, and their mouths opened in a silent scream of astonishment. Madame Dupon, consumed by rage, gazed with both eyes at her nose, which had grown to ridiculous proportions, feeling her face flush with shame and anger.

– Forgive me! I take my words back! Give me back my nose! – she blurted out, and in stomping her foot, she accidentally nudged the young man standing beside her.

The people froze as if struck by an invisible lightning bolt. Is Jules really capable of apologizing? Exclamations of astonishment rolled through the hall like the rumblings of a distant storm. And then the unimaginable happened: the upstart’s nose would stretch out forward or shrink to tiny sizes until, finally, beneath her fingers, it turned out to be… her old nose! Jumping to her feet, she raced like a whirlwind towards the exit, sweeping everyone aside in her path. Curses flew in all directions like sparks from the hooves of a mad horse. Declaring that her feet would never again tread in this house of betrayal and witchcraft, she, still boiling with rage, took refuge in her carriage and ordered the coachman to speed home, far from this cursed place.

Soon her carriage disappeared behind the gates of the house, leaving only clouds of dust and a soft whisper of gossip in its wake. The inhabitants of the house were stunned by what had happened and had no idea what Julie’s response would be. But they could not even imagine what storm she would unleash upon them, for her war had only just begun.

Chapter 9.
Family circumstances

Julie, excessively angry, hid in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. In her eyes, cold sparks danced, reflecting determination and a thirst for revenge. She felt humiliated, betrayed by close friends, and that feeling burned her from within, fueling her fury.

Her plan was maturing gradually, like a fruit gaining sweetness before falling. Julie carefully considered every step, every word, every action. She studied her enemies, their weaknesses, their fears. She gathered information like a spider weaving its web.

The first blow was struck from the shadows, like a sudden bite in the grass. A small but painful loss for the family, undermining their reputation in the eyes of influential figures. Then followed a series of minor annoyances, like a swarm of exhausting and irritating insects.

The homeowners became worried. They felt that something was wrong, but couldn’t understand where the threat was coming from.

Julie watched them, enjoying their torment. She knew that this was only the beginning. The most interesting part was still to come. A storm was about to break. But nothing else happened. For Anna quickly guessed whose doing it was, and very soon, in a conversation with Lion, she shared her suspicions about Dupon. Lion thought it wise to limit her influence in his circles, which yielded results quite quickly. Julie vanished from his life, perhaps as suddenly as she had burst into it. No one heard from her again, nor was there any desire to, for it was clear what thoughts and actions the woman harbored.

On the other hand, during the time I had been away from my parents’ home, it seemed to have petrified, preserving the imprint of that fateful day when I did not cross its threshold. Germain and Sania were consumed by a burning, all-encompassing malice that poisoned the air and permeated every corner. The search began at that very moment, but it was in vain – as if I had dissolved into the fog. And soon the terrifying and final ‘sentence’ sounded: Anna had treacherously fled.

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.

Something strange was happening in the hallway. The entire staff rushed around the house as if they had seen a ghost. Numerous voices filled the hall, a hum emanated from every room. Clouds of soothing smoke, like from an incense burner, filled the house. In separate rooms, there was true bacchanalia.

At that moment, the door to the library flew open, and Mrs. Orlova burst into the room with a look of fear in her eyes and a question for her husband.

– Lion, what kind of ghost is wandering through our house, instilling dread in the hearts of its inhabitants? Do we have a new “guest”? – Anastasia’s anxious voice echoed.

– Don’t worry, dear, I’ll find out what’s going on. Please wait outside, – Lion replied, his voice carrying a strained tenderness.

Anastasia disappeared without even acknowledging Grigory. Shocked by her strange behavior, the old man froze in the doorway, like a statue, afraid to disturb the ominous silence.

– Let the girl go. We need to talk privately, and no jokes, – Lion’s voice was calm as ice.

– Why should I? I have questions for her! – the old man snapped, grabbing Anna by the elbow and dragging her to the fireplace, as if wanting to uncover all her secrets in the flickering flames.

I stood there silently, not revealing myself to this strange man, but I was sure that time was on my side!

Chapter 11.
The outcomes of power

The firewood crackled fiercely in the fireplace, scattering sparks and embers into the corners. In the very heart of the fire, through the dancing tongues of flame, a sharp scent of raw wood broke through, and soon the room was filled with acrid smoke. The old man continued to hold me by the elbow, refusing to let go. At one moment, as if a veil had lifted from my eyes, I realized: there could be no more delay!

Pulling my arm from his clutching grasp, I turned to the old man and whispered:

– Are you not tired of flailing in one direction like a trapped beast, venting your frustrations to your nephew?

His eyes, glaring dangerously with a vicious squint towards the bridge of his nose, flashed ominously, revealing an abyss – the true face that lay hidden behind a mask of politeness, merely one of the hundreds of shadows dancing in the depths of his being.

The smoke spiraled in a whirlwind. The acrid smog stung the eyes and burnt in the throat. In the next moment, Lion, who was with us in the office, began to choke from coughing.

– Finally, I can clearly hear your voice, miss! – the grandfather said with unexpected calmness, as if nothing unusual was happening.

There were notes of concern in his voice.

He suddenly turned to Lion and said:

– We need to talk! Alone!

Ivan, only coughing and grinning, waved his hands around.

A premonition of something evil crept into my consciousness, and I, not lingering in the office, stepped out into the hallway.

At that same moment, as if by the wave of a magic wand, the acrid smoke dispersed, leaving only a sharp smell of burning behind. I had not the slightest doubt: it was all the work of my grandfather.

“But how did he do it?” – I wondered to myself.

The hallway was in the same chaos as before. Everyone was in a hurry, bumping into each other, mumbling incoherent phrases and rolling their eyes to the ceiling.

At the end of the corridor, barely distinguishable through the billows of smoke that had thickened again, I saw Azazel. She sat motionless, staring into the void. A sadness was frozen in her eyes, as if they were filled with tears, and I hurried to her, wanting to understand the reason for her strange calmness and perhaps her tears.

Out of the dark maw of one of the rooms, young Maria burst forth like a whirlwind. Her gaze darted to me, and she froze, as if struck by lightning. A mask of genuine, primal terror was etched on her face… I couldn’t understand what had so shocked or frightened the girl?

Time suddenly came to a halt. I turned away from her, but immediately, from the office I had just left a minute ago, a heart-wrenching scream echoed. Maria had vanished without a trace, and I, turning back, rushed to the office. As I barely touched the doorknob, I suddenly felt someone reaching for it in unison with me. Raising my eyes, I saw Anastasia and Azazel. The terrified expressions on their faces and their fearful, darting eyes foretold something dreadful, something that the Lion house had never seen before.

– It’s better to come with us, don’t go into the office! – Azazel said in a tone as if a monster lurked behind the door.

– What about the owner?! Am I really going to leave him to his fate? – I blurted out.

– Don’t interfere, Anna, they will sort it out themselves, as family! – replied Anastasia, squinting against the bright light coming from the open door across the way.

– No way, that restless old man could harm Lion! – I protested and swung the door open.

Beyond the door, the ground split open. Lion writhed on the floor in agony, his groans shattering the silence. The grandfather stood nearby like a stone idol, coldly indifferent as he counted on his fingers, as if measuring the last seconds of Lion’s life. A strange woman stood aside, her gaze burning into me with undisguised interest in this dark scene.

At that moment, as if by the wave of an invisible hand, the dormant forces within me awakened, spreading their wings and gaining all their devastating power. I flew up to the old man and, grabbing him by his prickly vest with both hands, lifted him high above the ground, looking over his head at the stunned woman who was spellbound by this truly spectacular scene.

She was so frightened that she had only one option left – to flee the same way she had entered the house, but apparently remembering something, she stayed. The woman was afraid to reveal herself, yet she did not dare to intervene.

– So, will you continue your observations or will you save your companion after all? – I asked in a tone of a hostess.

At those words, my powers increased. It was as if something foreign inhabited me, for I had never experienced anything like it before.

The stranger approached me as if she were floating in a mortar and whispered in a thin voice:

– Could you let him go? He is just an old and sick man!

“And even if that’s the case, why did Grigory start something that could have been stopped in a second?” – I thought.

The strange woman stretched her neck like a giraffe. Her head pierced the ceiling, and upon ensuring some matter was concluding on the upper floors, her face suddenly darkened.

– Why on earth should I pity him when just a couple of minutes ago he was holding my elbow so tightly that there might be a bruise? – I said in a voice that wasn’t my own.

At that moment, I lifted him almost above my head and threw him aside, where he collapsed onto a dresser with two porcelain vases and bronze candelabra, in which candles were flickering out.

Amazed, Azazel and Anastasia rushed towards Lion, while the stranger came towards me. Grabbing her hand raised for a slap, I pushed her back, sending her rolling across the floor.

At that moment, the old man, risen from oblivion, was not about to retreat. Like a shadow, he approached me with such speed that he himself was taken aback.

– Who are you?! – he growled, like a cornered beast.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the confusion around Lion. Women, like agitated birds, surrounded him, confirming my worst fears – Lion was wounded.

And then, driven by an unknown force, I stepped towards Grigory. Preparing to deflect the next blow, I unexpectedly clapped my hands. A sound wave, like a magical barrier, swept through the house, instantly calming the chaos. Everything froze in deafening silence.

Where this thought came from, this impulse, I didn’t know? But the result was stunning and truly magical.

Opening my eyes, I saw the astonished Azaziel, Anastasia, and Lion lying on the floor. Grigory and his companion had disappeared as if they had never existed.

Approaching the women, in whose eyes bewilderment flickered, I knelt down, touching the floor beside them. Gently turning Lion over, I saw a gaping wound from which a red liquid oozed. Closing my eyes, I interlaced my fingers in a complex, almost mystical gesture, and at that moment, a scarlet stream seemed to obey an unknown force, halting, leaving only a crimson dew on his skin.

– But how is this possible? Why me? What is this unknown force that pulses within me, and where did it come from? – I whispered, drowning in a whirlpool of unsolvable questions.

The man, opened his eyes and met his wife’s gaze. She rushed to explain what had happened with a strained smile, then threw herself to hug him.

Lion slowly rose, followed by his wife and Azazel. In that moment, Azazel’s thoughts screamed in her soul:

“She must go,” – she said to herself, – why does her master keep her, knowing the truth?

– What truth, Azazel? Or maybe you will tell me? – I addressed Lion.

He froze, stopping blinking. I saw how his cheeks were red, that he was eager to tell something, but he couldn’t!

– I don’t know what you mean, you’re Anna! – Lion replied sharply.

– I don’t believe it! – I snapped and stamped my foot like a capricious child.

Silence hung in the corridor, broken only by the melodious cuckooing of the clock. The house was filled with peace after the nightmare dissipated like smoke.

Neither Azazel not Lion answered my question, but they were sure that it would happen again. Grigory had not played an important role in Lion’s life for a long time, and the latter decided to erase him from his life forever. Lion remembered that his grandfather had come for his share and might soon come back again, and again not alone. In such a short time, Grigory managed to do a lot of foolish things, and his companion frightened Anastasia so much that for several days she drank chamomile tea and applied cold compresses to her head.

Her fragile nature could not withstand the harsh onslaught of these hypocritical people, who sowed turmoil in the house.

It must be admitted, Grigory was far from good and love. He radiated destructive hatred toward everything around. Every word he spoke, every step he took, and every glance he cast revealed that the old man had either gone mad or had become involved with sinister people and their dark deeds.

Lion suspected that his cousin was simply unwell. Long before these sad events, he had suggested that Grigory take a rest in nature, amidst the singing of larks and the hooting of owls, but Grigory was unyielding and did not want to hear about any rest.

After some time, following all that had happened, Grigory appeared again to Lion in the middle of the night, as if nothing had happened, while he was working in his study. He planned to surprise his nephew, like a ray of sunshine breaking into a gray day – an unexpected visit to brighten his solitude. However, the anticipation of the meeting was overshadowed by the knowledge that Grigory, as always, was mired in a sea of irritation and anxiety.

– Grandfather, will you tell me what’s troubling you? – asked Lion, yawning and stretching.

Grigory was taken aback by the question. He had prepared for his reproaches, anticipating the bitter taste of condemnation for such a late visit and his vile behavior.

– I’m not troubled by anything, I just wanted to talk; I have no one else to talk to! – the old man’s voice sounded almost pleading.

Lion rolled his eyes, realizing that Grigory was being evasive. The host knew that the guest would soon ask for a favor, and decided to play along.

– Grandfather, maybe you could stay with us? In the morning, we’ll go fishing in our pond, – Lion suggested.

– No, grandson, thank you. I wanted to talk to you about…! – and his eyes sparkled with a wicked glint.

Lion knew that the conversation would turn to the factory and the share that the old man believed was his. The guest jumped to his feet and began to explain how important this factory was to him, how many plans he had, what dreams he would fulfill if he had a part of it!

– I have nothing to promise you, grandfather. We need to deal with the problems first, and then we’ll see, – Lion replied.

Lion turned away. Grigory’s words seemed so repulsive to him that he had no desire to continue the conversation. Taking a step forward, he felt as if he had fallen through to the first floor, as if there were a hidden door in the floor, another exit. Grigory, however, was left alone in the haze from the smoldering wood in the fireplace. His grandson’s words echoed in his mind like a sentence…

– How could he leave me alone, and with a negative answer?! – Grigory was angry.

He waited for some time, but fatigue took over. After a while, the old man decided to go out through the front entrance, where a servant girl was waiting for him on the doorstep, sleeping standing. She opened the door in a half-asleep state and immediately closed it without touching the handle. The girl, without saying goodbye and not looking back, slammed the door and, like a ghost, slipped into her room, lost in a world of dreams.

Meanwhile, Grigory was pondering how to bring more trouble to his relative, for he harbored resentment against him, and such people as Grigory never forgave anything.

Chapter 12.
A fairy tale proposal

My calmness was filled with illusions. The miracles that happened in the house would not leave my mind. I looked at myself from the outside and understood that I was not like everyone else. I am different!

Another confirmation of my uniqueness was a different perception of life. I felt my strength so deeply that I had no doubt: my world and the world of others are different.

– You know, Anna, it’s as if you are filled with pure thoughts, and clarity of mind comes to you! Such feelings a person experiences only in harmony with themselves and the world. Your thoughts resonate with the time when youth demands action, push, determination… One must take everything from life to the last drop! – Lion once remarked to the maid at the dining table.

“I wanted to live, to live for myself, for the wonderful people who inhabited this beautiful house and knew how to enjoy everything around. After all, what I saw in myself was truly wonderful, and my surroundings felt it too!” – I thought.

Azazel… My fairy, my faithful friend, the soulmate with whom I wanted to share every thought. She did not take Lina’s place in my heart, but to her, I could entrust any secret, any worry, knowing that she would do everything in her power, and even more, for me. Azazel gave hope where it seemed that everything was irretrievably lost. She dispelled my worries and fears, turning them to dust, giving them no chance of return.

Many in the house craved her attention, but this prickly soul, like an impregnable cactus, erected an invisible wall around herself, allowing no one into her inner garden. She bristled with needles at anyone who tried to take the first step. But, upon closer inspection of this mysterious girl, it was impossible not to notice her pain – incomprehensible and evident. It seemed that the bleeding wound would never heal, and the grievance, screaming at the top of its lungs, would never quiet down.

Azazel was extremely silent. She spent her time doing crafts she had recently learned or with the children, taking care of them and getting involved in games. Work had become her passion, a way to escape from reality.

One day, with a beckoning gesture, she called me over and placed a key in my palm. It seemed light, almost toy-like, yet it felt noticeably heavy, as if it concealed the burden of unspoken secrets.

– Here. When the soul seeks revelations or the heart longs to share its innermost thoughts, I will be waiting for you in my room, in the house of the spirit! – purring this like a little sorceress, she giggled mischievously and melted into the air.

I was given a room next to the children’s. I often visited the little ones at night, singing lullabies under which they sweetly fell asleep, which delighted Anastasia. However, I was often drawn to Azazel, to her strange and uncomfortable abode, which, to be honest, was not appealing either externally or internally – dark, dull at first glance, and damp.

Azazel did not seek guidance or help from her friend. She was older, and the questions originated more from me. At times, it seemed to me that she was completely uninterested in anyone in her surroundings, but I was mistaken. Azazel learned everything she needed to know about the person that interested her. How she managed to do this remained a secret, but it was evident that something magical hid behind Azazel’s life. Perhaps she is the secret priestess of the Lion family’s sorrow?

The house was strong and warm – stronger than any rock and warmer than any stove. Heated conversations took place only in the kitchen, and Azazel drew me into an aura of mystery and interest.

Sometimes time flew by quickly, other times it stretched slowly, as if it were being drawn out, lingering for a long time. For me, those were the longest weeks. Attempts to learn details about the Lion children from any of the servants ended in failure. Everyone was silent, as if they had taken water into their mouths. Any conversations about the house and the master, especially about Lion’s double, were cut off by silence. The entire staff conspired against me, not wanting me to learn what everyone else seemed to know.

Some time passed, and at the end of october, significant changes began to occur in Anna’s life.

One morning, Lion asked the girl to come into his office immediately. She exchanged glances with Azazel and shrugged questioningly. Azazel only raised her eyebrows in surprise. Anna quickly jumped up, smoothed her dress and rumpled apron (there was no time to iron it), and in an instant, she found herself at the threshold of the office. She stood by the door for several minutes, gathering her thoughts, and, taking a breath, reached for the handle.

– Come in! – I heard a woman’s voice.

“Apparently, something serious has happened since Anastasia is in the office!” – I thought.

Upon entering the office, I saw two adults sitting in chairs opposite each other. Books floated before their eyes, which they were reading. I was surprised, although I had seen even more miraculous phenomena that left me speechless. I could catch fragments of phrases:

– Keep flipping! – said either Orlova or her husband.

They repeated these words in the same way, with similar voices, timbre, and intonation. It seemed as if the same person was speaking.

A few minutes passed, and Lion hurriedly slammed the book shut. Following her husband’s example, Orlova did the same, mumbling something to herself. Both of their eyes reflected some uncertainty, and I did not yet understand the cause of this anxiety.

– We would like to know your answer, Anna. Do you have a desire to travel with us on a long journey? – she began.

I felt as if I was floating in the clouds, overwhelmed with joy, even though I did not show it.

– Of course, I agree, madam! How could I refuse such an offer? – I exclaimed.

– Another person will be traveling with us, but don’t worry, you know her well! – Lion said slowly, and his eyes sparkled.

– Wonderful! And who is it? – I asked impatiently.

Lion and his wife exchanged glances. Sparks lit up in their eyes. It was clear that this would be a gift for us.

– This is Azazel. She will be going with us! We know you became good friends, so you won’t get bored, and it will be easier to look after the kids. We’ll be more at ease, and you will have more fun! – replied Anastasia.

I froze, amazed by the unexpected proposal, and although Azazel didn’t know about it yet, I had no doubt that this news would delight her as well.

– This is wonderful! – I jumped up in excitement.

– You can tell Azazel about our wonderful trip to sunny or snowy Italy yourself. Anastasia and I are giving you this opportunity! – Lion announced solemnly.

That day, I felt as if I was swept up in a whirlwind of excitement, and I was soaring on wings, refusing to believe my ears. Azazel was not just happy – she was sparkling with joy! We played like children in a raging sea of jubilation, overwhelmed by the feelings that filled us. After such a fireworks display of emotions, the rest of the day passed in a gentle haze of pleasant aftertaste.

Time began to stretch slower, and a strange fatigue weighed down on me by nine in the evening, as if the burden of the day had fallen all its weight on me. Exiting the room where I had been talking with the maid about her injured arm, I felt an overwhelming desire to lie down. I don’t know how to explain such drowsiness, but sleep seemed to envelop me from all sides.

– Where are you in such a hurry to, Anna? – called out the gardener, preparing the tools for the morning.

– I’d like to think in silence! – I replied.

– On the big sofa? – he chuckled.

I nodded affirmatively. It was the favorite resting spot for almost all the staff. There, thoughts calmed down and came into order. The gardener shook his head and headed towards the kitchen, from where one could get to the stable and the garden tools. I went to the hall, where there was a huge soft sofa, upholstered in ivory-colored leather, shaped like a curved semicircle. I sat down and, like in a comfortable rocking chair, fell into a deep sleep.

In an instant, everything changed. I dreamed that one evening I saw fiery horses harnessed to a carriage of an unusual color in the windows of the hall. You don’t see such fiery horses, quite literally, every day. A tall, thin woman with beautiful features hastily exited the carriage, holding a knit – a burgundy-red scarf. The woman was dressed elegantly, but she emitted a sharp smell of tar. As she approached the house, the color of the scarf changed, and when she reached the porch, it turned yellow-orange. I felt her piercing, harsh gaze. As if through a veil of mist, I caught a trace of her thoughts: by the last rays of sunset, the scarf must take on an emerald hue, otherwise the shadow of inevitable disaster will loom over the house.

With incredible speed, she began to knit, deftly manipulating the stitches. An unknown force suddenly drew me toward the exit, to a huge oak door adorned with images of eagles clutching snakes in their claws. The first thing I saw, standing face to face with the eagles, was two burning stars on their heads. Chains hung around their necks, and in the chains were small horseshoes. As I approached the door, the heads of the eagles started to move, the snakes hissed and lunged at me, spraying their venom. At that moment, I heard voices. The clearest was Lion’s voice, insistently urging me to turn the right horseshoe, which I did.

At that very second, lightning flashed around me, darkness thickened above my head, and a deafening roar echoed in my ears. Turning around, I saw the woman’s eyes, fixated on me, beginning to change shape. They elongated into narrow slits, the pupils disappeared, leaving only black spots. At first, I didn’t understand what was happening, but then I heard the woman speaking words in a strange, incomprehensible language.

– It begins! – she shouted at the top of her lungs.

The scream made my ears ring. Lion, standing nearby, rushed towards us.

– Who is she? Who is this person waiting for happiness but never receiving it?! – the woman insisted.

– Don’t do this! She’s still just a child! – Lion protested.

– Not at all! You violated all four rules! I have to send her back! – the woman continued.

– I am guilty and I admit it, but she must not be harmed! – Lion shouted, his neck muscles tensing.

A gigantic hurricane rose above my head. It seemed that in the blink of an eye, everything around would be under its dome. The rolls of thunder and the vast circle of smoke and fog descended lower and lower, showcasing their power. Everything around darkened, and two servants, who happened to be nearby, suddenly disappeared. I don’t know why, but I raised both hands with palms up, as if protecting myself from the dreadful overhang.

Before I could blink, I found myself inside an abyss. The endless circular movements, like in a whirlpool, did not stop for a moment. My head was spinning, and I realized that I had entered some other world. The element played its lullaby, rocking me to sleep with every movement.

– Anna, are you asleep? – I heard the voice of a laughing man.

It was the gardener, returning from the stables and noticing me asleep, as if possessed by some premonition, he felt it was his duty to wake me and ask what I had dreamed, as if my dream determined his fate. He never received an answer because by that time I had already gotten up, stretched like a cat, and, feeling for my shoes with my feet, made my way to my room, where a comfortable bed was waiting for me. I had almost forgotten about sleep, but Lion’s protection, both in dreams and in reality, was evident.

Time flew quickly, days changed into days, and I literally counted them. The day of our departure approached ever more swiftly. Everyone ran around, fussing, giving orders, while some silently carried out their tasks. The timid whisper that I would accompany the Lion family with their children surprised no one. Everyone already knew of the family’s special fondness for me. Everything was going quietly and smoothly, and, as they say, calm always ends in a storm. And so it happened to us.

Before recounting the subsequent events, I would like to mention Lion’s cousin, Grigory, once more. The grandfather had changed significantly internally, becoming more rigid and rude. The nephew felt this but remained silent. Grigory also understood that he would never have allowed himself such treatment of Ivan and his family. But times change, social circles change, and during the time that the grandson and grandfather lived separately, much had changed.

– Two days ago, one of the grooms saw grandfather observing someone behind the house! – Azazel reported to the lady of the house.

The woman was shaken by these words. Knowing that the old man embodied evil, she hastily turned to Lion:

– I agree, Ivan! The wall is our only hope. We must build it as soon as possible! – Lion, without uttering a word, merely nodded slightly, retreating into the depths of his thoughts, plunging into an unfathomable abyss.

A shadow of doubt crept into his heart. He didn’t want to believe that his grandfather was capable of villainy, but the thought of the protective wall wouldn’t leave him.

The news of this decision caused widespread alarm. Orlova, filled with fear of the restless and strange old man, forbade the children from approaching the lawn.

On the long-awaited day of the start of construction, disaster struck – the porch of the house erupted in flames. At that moment, no one was nearby; everyone was busy welcoming the guests that Lion had been eagerly awaiting.

Suspicions once again fell on Grigory, whose cunning knew no bounds. And as if to confirm the worst fears, visits from his wife Linda – a woman as mysterious and deceitful – became more frequent. Her beauty was deceptive: blonde hair the color of ripe rye and black eyes like pitch, in the depths of which darkness lay hidden, could not go unnoticed.

Their thirst for revenge against their nephew was all-consuming, pushing the couple to the most desperate acts.

– Revenge turns a person into a soulless shell, obsessed with only one goal – to do evil. People like Grigory will seek revenge until their treacherous plan comes to fruition or until their malice turns against them! – the master of the house once told me.

Chapter 13.
The journey of Sania and Herman

After futile searches for Anna, when hope began to fade like the first snow, her parents, with heavy hearts, made the drastic decision to inform the “main” about her disappearance. It was not so much a desperate anxiety for their daughter, but rather the oppressive silence that hung in the air, tormenting them with the question: why is Anna silent?

“Could it be that this enchanted house, the center of mysteries, is capable of engulfing her without leaving a trace?” – Sania whispered, addressing herself in thought.

But no answer followed, only silence, echoing from the empty walls of their home, firmly binding her heart with malice. Time dragged on painfully, yet Anna’s parents did not give up. Only they knew the true reason for her disappearance and patiently waited for help from nowhere.

One spring day, presumably in early May, Herman and Sania set off to a neighboring town to escape the persistent neighbors who were following them closely. But the real reason for this trip was different – they needed to buy some time…

With particularly curious friends, Herman and Sania shared fabricated stories. Their nonchalance regarding Anna’s disappearance could not help but raise suspicions among close friends they did not trust and neighbors. They often visited them, pressed them with questions, and generously offered advice. For the parents, it was a real torture: they were not used to such attention and had no intention of putting up with this way of life.

Soon, Herman and Sania suddenly disappeared, leaving their friend Indi, a large black cat, in the care of the neighbors. The cat was no longer young, but despite his advanced age and slight lameness, he still loved to run and frolic. Apparently, at some point, while escaping from other cats, he injured his paw, and it healed improperly, so the sound of his claws tapping on the ground from his lame paw, like that of a little horse’s hoof, signaled his return home and desire to have a snack.

– What could have made them leave right now?! – asked neighbor Tamara of the other, Ida, a plump and good-natured woman in her mid-forties, with a constant smile on her face.

As was typical for a secretive family like mine, my parents needed just a few minutes to pack for such a long journey, one they had been preparing for since the day I disappeared. Hope for my return had not yet faded, but Herman and Sania understood that they needed to act discreetly to avoid raising suspicions and to “politely” bring me back.

Upon arriving in a city, previously known to me only through my father’s tales, my parents found shelter in a modest little house, lost at the very edge of it. The house was surrounded by dense greenery, and nearby there was a small body of water. An unassuming bench by the house and a flowerbed with a variety of blooms created a cozy atmosphere and bestowed tranquility upon its inhabitants. The house seemed to drown in the lush vegetation: majestic firs, curly birches, and fragrant linden trees concealed the poverty of their temporary abode. In the mornings, the air was filled with birdsong, and in the evenings, bats circled in the night sky, emitting piercing squeaks in search of prey.

The first thing my parents did was to summon their colleagues – accomplished sorcerers and magicians. They came in groups of four, and among them there was always a woman. Herman and Sania planned to start the search for their daughter as soon as possible – either on their own or together with loyal friends ready to help.

The beginning of the month was very interesting for the parents. German and Sania decided to start their amazing and necessary journey, which was supposed to help them get their daughter back. Gathering their courage, they went to their “main”, who had refused them this opportunity for several years.

– Maybe this time we will be lucky, because they must surely already know that Anna is missing! – Sania said anxiously.

– Perhaps, but I have a backup plan in case we get refused again! – German leaned closer, and his breath brushed against his wife’s ear as he began to whisper his secret plan to her.

Sania flinched and, staring intently at German, said:

– And if we get caught, do you understand what will happen to us then?!

– Yes, dear, I am aware of what could happen! – German replied and, spitting over his shoulder, began to prepare for the journey.

Herman always meticulously planned his actions, especially when it came to work. His fears melted away like smoke at the mere thought of traveling to the worlds he idolized, believing them to be his discovery. These were truly priceless places, a tempting morsel for both Herman and other, less noble magicians. All of his bright ideas could become a reality in the blink of an eye, provided his modest abilities, enhanced by the help of the “main one”, were successful.

In the twilight, about twenty young souls gathered, united by a trembling excitement. They were about to perform an ancient ritual, bound by a mysterious document that stated:

– Whoever opens this chest will find what is not in this life.

And each one, as if obeying the call of blood, had to inscribe these words on parchment. Scarlet ink, fragrant with intoxicating pine, flowed under the quill, giving birth to a promise. A personal seal, like a stamp of fate, was affixed as a sign of sincere intentions. Folded in four, the messages were handed over to the high priest, the keeper of the secret. And woe to the one whose sheet was blank – he was immediately declared a stranger, an outcast, forever deprived of the right to partake in the sacred.

The guilty were promptly sent to a fortress lost in the middle of the ocean, where they were subjected to intricate tortures inflicted by insects and reptiles, and the most rebellious were fed to sharks of exotic colors and monstrous sizes.

When the preparations were complete, the elders concluded the ceremony of selecting a new cohort of sorcerers who were to embark on a journey.

Though no longer young, they had only now awaited their turn.

– Oh, what a delightful anticipation it is to be close to you and to understand that we are ready! – Herman said sarcastically.

Their “main” was flattered by these words, but he could not even imagine where his trust would lead him soon.

– Don’t you understand that now or never I am entrusting you with the future?! After all, you two are the only ones from the old group who have not traveled? – asked the “main”.

Sania smiled carelessly, while Herman nodded affirmatively. It seemed, what more could two successful, adult people desire?!

– Of course, we understand everything and thank you for your respect and disposition towards us! – replied Sania, avoiding the “main"s’ gaze.

She had never looked him in the eyes! Whether from fear or excitement, but when Herman spoke, she fell silent like a shadow, and her gaze, wandering somewhere in a dusty direction, became impenetrable, like a lake covered in mist.

So, Herman and Sania, inspired by their “master magician” to explore the unknown, set off on a journey that began so unusually…

At the very edge of Elsa, where the city’s structures timidly surrendered to the encroachment of wild nature, a strange patch of land lay hidden. An ideal circle, as if drawn by the hand of an unknown being, was framed by a ring of larches and towering sequoias, whose age seemed unimaginable. The guests of this place, like shadows, froze at the threshold of the unexplored, amusing in their indecision and timid fear.

The dense forest, as if guarding its secret, was not teeming with large beasts; only the singing of birds and the rustle of leaves disturbed the silence, along with the soft steps of rabbits.

Inserting one into each corner of an imaginary square, they were to dissolve into silence, casting aside the bustle of thoughts and the storm of feelings. Then the elders among the gathered, their voices hoarse from the years lived, lifted a prayer in a forgotten, incomprehensible dialect. And if each of the four achieved that cherished tranquility when the mind becomes clear as mountain crystal, the group of four would dissolve into the air, vanishing without a trace.

To jump ahead: there was no way back for this quartet. They had to carve their own path to return. But if they stumbled, crossed an invisible line, violated unwritten rules, they would be forever imprisoned by the time to which they had been thrown. For the goal of their pilgrimage was to replenish the ranks of a community whose mission was proclaimed as the cleansing of the world from the filth of lies and evil. The chief priests, with a fanAtikal gleam in their eyes, imposed this belief on the newly minted travelers, even though deep down in the recesses of their souls, they were fully aware of its hypocritical falsehood!

In our world, woven with mysterious threads that create a tapestry of dimensions, there are many ways to step over the threshold of reality. And so, upon arrival, the parents and their friends began to prepare. The sky was impeccably clear, without a single cloud. The moon, huge and unimaginably cold, ruled above, alluring with its chilling beauty. Its silvery light seemed to hypnotize, but for Hermann and Sania, the moon remained nothing more than an unreachable dream, as only the most experienced and skilled travelers ventured into its glowing expanses.

In the labyrinth of possibilities for return, the group desperately sought a saving thread. But each attempt shattered against the wall of despair, and if they became trapped in the grip of an alien time and could not find the right way home, a grim and merciless fate awaited them. And only my parents were not burdened by the thought of returning to their native lands. Their desire to find me was so great that they were willing to sacrifice everything for this endeavor.

And then the decisive moment arrived. The four, frozen in their places, sank into the depths of their own thoughts. Adam dreamed of the long-awaited healing, Mikael – of eternal youth, while Anna’s parents could think of only one thing: to find their daughter and, if possible, return with her. It was their only desire, their cherished dream…

During the reading of the mantra, everyone present felt a slight tremor of the earth. Then it intensified. By the end of the priests’ speech, a beam suddenly appeared from the direction of the moon. It was so bright that Adam involuntarily opened his eyes, and was thrown three or four meters away from the group. The great priest, silent and unwavering, merely pointed his finger at the culprit. At that very moment, a guard, like a shadow, threw a strange necklace of wolf fangs around his neck, and in the next instant, the unfortunate man dissolved into the air, as if he had never been.

The beam was growing ever fiercer, as if striving to scorch the very fabric of reality. A split second before the light consumed them, Anna’s parents, as if in unison, shouted one word that echoed through the silence: “Tavern!”

Their voices were filled with such strength and desperation that even the prayer-hardened priest could not suppress a gasp of astonishment. In the next instant, the beam closed over the trio, and they vanished, as if into time itself.

The priest’s face froze in a grimace worthy of the brush of Boscho himself. It seemed that eternity itself was reflected in his dilated pupils. Forgetting all decorum, he rushed to his velvet pouch, where the sacred scrolls lay. He had no doubt about Mikael for even a second, but now his hands, trembling like captured butterflies, frantically unfurled two other sheets covered in writing. From his slightly opened mouth, only a muffled sound escaped:

– Brrrrr…

In an instant, it struck him: Anna’s parents had a completely different plan, bold and unthinkable, and it had worked.

“How could I have been so blind, so arrogant, not to see the deception?” – the thought pierced his mind like a shard of ice.

The rage boiling in his chest began to break free, like lava from a volcano, ready to incinerate everything in its path. The inner fire threatened to consume him entirely, burning away the remnants of self-control, and began to bubble up.

He became transparent with the realization of his own blunder. After all, nothing like this had ever happened throughout his reign! In the blink of an eye, the priest vanished, leaving behind nothing but a shimmering, pulsating bubble, like something alive and breathing. Such was the punishment for the incorrectly performed ritual: dissolution into the very fabric of existence, an eternal confinement in an ephemeral shell.

And then, after what felt like moments, my parents were racing through a tunnel, long as eternity itself. Before their eyes, boundless expanses rushed by, voices of unfamiliar people, growling, screams, moans, weeping. The endless voices did not cease for even a second. Suddenly, an incomprehensible click was heard, and they opened their eyes.

Around them was a multitude of chairs and tables. Not far away, people were sitting and chatting animatedly. Noticing the strange travelers, they began to whisper, sinisterly and insistently, like a swarm of wasps on a stuffy summer noon. The whisper grew louder until it turned into a deafening roar, making the parents involuntarily cover their ears, as if escaping from an invisible swarm.

– Why so loud?! – Sania exclaimed.

– I don’t know, but I think they’re whispering about us, what do you think? – Herman whispered in response, looking around fearfully.

The mother remained silent, sensing something ominous, like the shadow of an impending storm.

– We need to hurry, otherwise we will not avoid misfortune! Herman, I’m talking to you! – she called her husband authoritatively and, snapping her fingers as if extinguishing a spark, they both faded into the air.

It was only a few minutes before another equally strange person or something resembling him joined the strange group.

– They were here, sitting across from each other, right in this very spot! – said a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard, his voice sounded sharp and clipped.

– Yes, that’s right, it was here they were whispering… – confirmed his companion, as if putting a period to his ominous words.

– Continue the search and keep your eyes on the clock! – ordered the man in a tone that brooked no dissent.

His face was concealed by a deep hood, but even in the half-light, a menacing aura emanated from him. It was clear that he was not joking and was determined to find those who dared to breach the protocol.

Chapter 14.
The story of Jim

Meanwhile, I was completely immersed in preparations for the journey. A few days before departure, almost all household matters were completed: the suitcases were packed, the carriages were put in order, and all necessary instructions were given to the servants. All that was left for me was to light the myrrh for the journey, which was to be burned above the smoldering candle under the antique teapot. Despite having time to spare, I was irresistibly drawn to this little flame. For some reason, its flicker gave me strength and calmed my troubled soul.

Approaching the fireplace, where the wood was lazily devoured by the flames, I held the candle to the ember. And then I was struck by a strange sight: a thin wisp of smoke was curling from the candle, and as it twisted in bizarre motions, it began to outline the silhouette of a man in the air. In this ghostly figure, I horrifically recognized Grigory.

“But why him?” – flashed in my mind.

– Because Grigory is looking for you! – a sly voice echoed.

I turned sharply. There was no one in the room besides me. After all, I had entered, unlocking the door with my key. And if it were Azazel, she would hardly be hiding in the corners.

– Who is here? – I asked timidly.

– Grigory is looking for you, be careful! – the voice repeated, as if it were an echo from the beyond.

I remained silent, feeling that something was off in this situation. Either I imagined it, or it was time to stop playing with magic before it played a cruel joke on me.

– Maybe you could show yourself? I would like to thank you! – I insisted.

The torturous minutes of waiting passed, stretching endlessly. The room was filled with such a ringing silence that any sharp sound would make my heart pound wildly.

Finally, I realized that my mysterious benefactor had no intention of appearing. A plethora of thoughts swirled in my head, and I decided to leave. The door was ajar, but as soon as I reached for the handle to swing it open, it slammed shut with a loud bang right in front of my nose. I tried to open it again, but it seemed to forbid my departure, refusing to obey.

“Call for help? No way, they’ll start talking again, just when everything calmed down! Azazel will be here soon, he will save me!” – I thought, and a faint smile of hope appeared on my face.

– Where do you think you’re going? We haven’t finished our conversation yet! – suddenly a loud bass voice rang out behind me.

Slowly turning towards the voice, I saw a tall man dressed in a ridiculous robe, as if someone had thrown a sack over him. It could have been a sack, but I didn’t dare to ask. He was thin, of average height, with light brown hair and unusual eyes. His eyes were so deeply set in their sockets that they appeared to be painted. I swayed slightly, as I had never before seen such a strange face.

– Who are you and what are you doing in my room?! – I asked, trying to hide my fear.

– I am Smoky! I came to help and protect you from the fearsome grandfather Grigory. I am here to… – he began, but hesitated.

– Stop! – I abruptly interrupted him.

At my tone, he recoiled, although he did not seem shy. He opened his mouth in surprise and blinked rapidly.

– How dare you enter my room and say you came to protect me from an old man? Perhaps someone sent you to protect me, or the opposite?! – I asked in one breath.

The Smoke fell silent. By his gaze, it was clear that he was strictly forbidden to speak about it.

“But what are such secrets for?!” – I thought, trying to understand his motives.

– I would like to tell everything in order! – suddenly answered the Smoke, breaking the silence.

– Is he so dangerous that I’ll need your help?! – I repeated.

– Here, take this, drink some water. It will help you gain a clear mind! – suggested the Smoke.

Thirst tormented me, and not paying attention to taking the glass from someone else’s hands, I drank the water down to the bottom, as if the water hadn’t touched my lips for several days.

– How so? – I said, and an echo rolled through the house.

– Soon you will start to stutter, then you’ll feel sleepy, and when you wake up, this room will be empty. You will simply vanish! – he declared confidently, looking me in the eyes.

At that moment, there was movement at the door. I hoped that the one entering would save me from the Smoke, as I did not know who he really was.

A second later, Azazel walked into the room. Surprised by the strange noises, she looked at me questioningly.

Then she cast a wicked glance at Smoke, as if they were old enemies, and spat through her teeth:

– Get away! – after which she sharply turned to me.

A chill pierced me from her words, as if I had fallen into icy water.

– Did you take anything from him?! – Azazel asked in a pleading tone.

– Yes, a glass of water! – I repeated several times, and a dull echo spread through the house again.

She quickly covered my mouth with her palm. My body was covered in sweat, I was drowsy, and then the terrible hiccup began.

“What was that?” – flashed through my mind.

– You’d better keep your mouth shut! – Azazel said and rushed out the door.

At that very moment, everything froze, as if a fierce frost had bound all living things. It is impossible to imagine the emotions of the people living under the same roof as me. Everyone was so frightened that they could not return to their duties for a long time. Lion and Anastasia immediately understood the reason for what was happening. They guessed that I was the cause of it all.

After leaving the office where Lion usually worked, he hurried to us. One of the maidens greeted him as if she had been waiting at the door, knowing he would come. And he came. With his usual calmness, he opened the door and walked in, running his fingers through his hair.

In the room, Jim, Azazel, and I awaited him. The Smoke was no longer there. He surveyed the room and eagerly inhaled the scent of sulfur still palpable in the air.

– A familiar aroma, the Smoke was clearly here recently, – he said with a barely noticeable smile.

They were whispering to each other, not taking their eyes off me. I felt uneasy under such intense scrutiny.

– Please try not to worry, you will soon return to your “normal” state to be ready for departure! – Jim began soothingly.

An old man with gray hair, a long beard, small eyes, and a wide mouth. He resembled a warrior who had gone through countless battles. His face was marked with scars, and in his sad eyes, there was so much warmth that it was impossible to refuse his help. That is why Lion the elder brought him from the depths of India, from the bustling market where slaves were traded. His gift had repeatedly saved the lives of the entire Lion family.

Jim was of mixed race. His father, Soleiman, came from a noble Arab lineage. A wealthy merchant from the East, who brought silks and Persian carpets to Europe and America, he wallowed in gold, like all who had tasted the luxury of life. Jim’s mother was a simple maid, one of those whom Soleiman’s sister treated like possessions. Monica, a girl from an Iranian family where her father was an ordinary commoner and her mother the heiress of great wealth, was the eldest among four sisters and as many brothers. The whole family knew that the father worked tirelessly, returning home in sweat and blood. He often lined up the children and took turns asking them about their accomplishments for the day. His cruelty knew no bounds, whether it was with sons or daughters.

The father of the family was convinced that sons were more valuable than daughters and would inherit the small part of his estate: an old cottage on the edge of a poor village, where they kept nothing but livestock and subsisted on milk, cheese, and veal.

He was especially strict with his daughters. Monika always received the most blame, likely because she was the eldest and responsible for the education of the younger ones. But the true reason for his dislike lay in something else. She reminded him of the only woman he had ever truly loved, whom he had lost so early, perhaps out of foolishness.

Once, in distant times, when Monika’s father worked as a groom for wealthy gentlemen, he took a liking to a beautiful girl who often visited the family, namely her friend. He watched for hours as the young and charming lady, as you have already guessed, did not reciprocate his feelings, not even noticing him. Gussa secretly admired her but did not dare to approach, fearing the loss of his job and condemning himself to a miserable existence.

But fate had other plans. One day, while taking a walk, the beauty was swimming in a lake near her home when she became entangled in nets left by the servants. The master’s daughter managed to escape, only scraping her knees and slightly scratching her head, but Ayghul, the guest, would have said goodbye to life forever if not for the stable boy who was nearby. In gratitude, the girl’s father generously rewarded her savior with gold and invited him to dinner. How wonderful it was for the young man to find himself in luxury next to his beloved! He blissfully watched her every move and couldn’t believe his happiness.

And so, at the banquet held in honor of the miraculous rescue of his daughter, the father introduced the guests to the modest but now wealthy stable boy. Discussions about this did not die down for weeks.

– How could he do such a thing and shower this filthy stable cleaner with gold?! – exclaimed a lady, a close relative of Ayghul.

– Apparently, he has lost his mind to have done such a thing! – her sister echoed.

Father Ayghul was no longer young and devoted all his time to his children. He was madly in love with his daughter and was ready to fulfill her every whim. Nothing was forbidden to her. The spoiled girl was beautiful, but excessively proud.

Choosing the moment, our hero, forgetting about his origin, decided to ask for Ayghul’s hand. His heart was pounding wildly, and many thoughts were swarming in his head. Ayghul’s father was somewhat annoyed by the young man’s impudence that he asked to go with him to the office in order to discuss the proposal, and invited his daughter to them. The guy was embarrassed to see his beloved in a depressed state, because his father flatly refused to marry her. But she insisted, ahead of her father in her convictions.

– Father, let me make this decision myself. You’ve always been on my side, so what’s changed? – the girl said eagerly.

– But, Ayghul, you are still very young and you will always have time to get married. At any age, crowds of men will be at your doorstep, why rush so much? – father insisted.

– Dad, just let me go, and that’s the end of the conversation!” – the daughter repeated.

Since then, the head of the family lost his peace. He walked in circles around the house, as if measuring its square meters. His gait became weary. He stopped eating properly, and health issues began to manifest. On that fateful day when he refused her marriage proposal, the girl didn’t wait long and ran away to her suitor.

Ayghul managed to take some jewelry with her, but all of it was long gone, just like the generous gifts from Gussa. She was proud that she had never turned to her family for help, even though she needed it, as well as the blessing of her parents and support. After all, she had received the best since birth, and now her life was becoming worse and more difficult.

Ayghul’s parents no longer saw their daughter. She simply disappeared for them. Inflicting such a wound is akin to eradicating all life in a person. The strength was leaving the parents with the inevitability of a snow avalanche, gaining speed and burying all hopes beneath it, and when their light finally extinguished, the world for the girl plunged into impenetrable darkness.

– They left without saying goodbye! – Ayghul said through tears to her husband.

– It’s a pity and unfair! – he replied, clenching his fists tightly.

Monika’s father hated his daughter, fearing that she would repeat her mother’s fate and run away with someone, which he could not allow under any circumstances. Since that dreadful moment, Ayghul and Gussa’s children, like her, often went hungry. Only illness freed the woman from worries about her family, as she passed away early. Gussa left soon after his wife, unable to bear the loss of his beloved. As he promised, the sons inherited the pitiful scraps, and Monika received only a tortured heart.

Fleeing from the wrath of her barbarian brothers, she found shelter on the fertile land of India, where fickle fate reserved for her a modest role as a servant in the wealthy home of an Arab aristocrat. Thus began her acquaintance with Jim’s father, whose life could overshadow even the most beautiful fairy tales about princes from the enchanting East.

For many years she tried to find her footing, to set her life in order. But luck seemed to have turned its back on her forever, condemning her to repeatedly ascend the gallows of her endeavors. However, the brother of her haughty and cruel mistress, Aylin, was of a completely different kind. Legends were told about his wealth. It was said that for just one caravan of sold goods, he received so much gold that his servants scooped it with shovels and poured it into sacks. Whether this was true or a fabrication, it is now impossible to know, but no one doubted his generosity and undeniable riches. Monica’s fate changed at that moment, turning into a real fairy tale, when she happened to meet Soleiman. He visited his sister for just a few days but was struck by the beauty of this lovely girl.

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