Sergey Bilarin
Переводчик Igor Krivoshey
Иллюстратор Sofia Vlasova
© Sergey Bilarin, 2020
© Igor Krivoshey, перевод, 2020
© Sofia Vlasova, иллюстрации, 2020
ISBN 978-5-0051-4157-6
Создано в интеллектуальной издательской системе Ridero
Introduction
This is the first story in the «The Spindle of Fate» series. It depicts a battle between Heaven and Hell for the right to possess the Spindle of Fate. This ancient artifact chooses an ordinary young girl, Marina, as its Keeper. Envoys of the rival powers set out for Earth. However, is Marina such an ordinary girl? The book also contains other short stories in the science fiction and fantasy genres. Let the book take you away to the illusory world of dreams.
The Spindle of Fate. Defeating the Dark
Outside, at what seems like just a stone’s throw away, darkness was gathering. Here, almost on the fringe of human settlements, the rays of the sun were unable to diffuse the darkness which was victoriously advancing. It overwhelmed the sparse little trees, the rocky slopes covered with thin grass, and the spongy bogs. Like a painter or sculptor, the dark, coming up in waves onto this disconsolate landscape was altering all of creation. A boulder covered with blue moss became a bush with big red berries, a gully turned into a meadow, and trees kept coming out of darkness and disappearing again.
In the dark haziness one could see patches that were more or less light. At times they overlapped, intersected, overwhelmed, and interfered with each other as if playing cat-and-mouse. Sometimes the patches would fuse, forming crazy masterpieces, as if born of insane brains, or they would suddenly harmonize into rather rational pictures. However, all these metamorphoses lasted only for short moments. And once again the darkness would reach out its tentacles to chaotically touch this queer world.
The Priestess of Flame turned away from the window and tried to concentrate on a conjuration. However, one thought kept reeling in her head: «Perhaps, I am next». Three votaresses of Flame had already disappeared without a trace, and most likely it would not be it. The girl couldn’t sleep in spite of the late hour. Turning her gaze to an hour-glass, she sleepily noticed that the grains were slowing their lazy falling and were dropping resonantly. Slower and slower, until one of them, the last one, was hanging, failing to make it to the bottom. A long echo faded in the quietness.
She felt somebody’s presence, shivered and turned round. At the threshold of her rooms darkness was falling. No, it was not the darkness, but a man in a dark cloak with the hood pulled low over his eyes. Might he be a pilgrim, or perhaps a wanderer? Or could he be one who searches for knowledge and wishes to learn? It was already late; how did he get here? The guards should not have let him in. If there is a sancta sanctorum on Earth, this place should be it. Two steps away, up on the roof, the Sacred Flame burns, its magic light shining down on the world.
While she was brooding, two pitch-black clots formed around the night guest’s silhouette. It was both scary and unfathomable. How could the dark have gotten into the heart of the Tower of Light? The unicycles of darkness were transformed into sinister-looking monsters and started approaching her slowly. The stranger’s fleshy lips shivered into a grin. The girl tried to stand up and run away, but was unable to, no matter how hard she tried. She tried to absorb the light coming out of the glowing pillar in the middle of the room, but, alas, could not. Barely conscious of her own body, with a final, desperate effort, she got up on her feet, then fell down on the rug and… regained consciousness, awakened by her own scream.
Oh! It was only a dream… But, Oh, Lord of Light, this nightmare seemed so real! The fatigue gained during the day was the cause. And the troubling situation with her sisters’ disappearance… The whole of The Circle is baffled. We have to do something, but they are so weak. Her thoughts circled crazily in her mind and amassed into one tight bundle.
A gust of icy wind cooled down the feverish body of the young sorcerer. Her transparent clothes exposed, rather than covered, her white body. Whipping around, she saw the silhouette from her recent nightmare. He was here! This is no dream! She wanted to defend herself with a guarding gesture but her hands wouldn’t obey her. As the stranger stretched out his dark palms towards her and began coming nearer, she realized in horror that she could not even scream.
***
A seagull’s shriek woke Marina out of her reverie and brought her back to earth, or rather to a desolate coast. The daystar hanging almost in the zenith was pouring ultraviolet onto the beach. The sea was whispering something sleepily and the foam swirled at her feet. All around was peace and quiet.
«Well, I will take one more plunge and then go home, or my skin will peel off», Marina said to herself reproachfully. She was enjoying her well-deserved rest. Her last year in school had been hard, but she got all A’s and had already enrolled in a university.
She walked into the water and plunged in, it keeping her eyes open, and submerged herself again into the astounding world of the underwater realm.
«It’s so beautiful, I don’t want to go back. Probably, if I were a mermaid, I would have lived here», the girl thought. She did look like a mermaid, slim and fit, with long hair and large eyes the color of the seawater. She plunged in a few more times, to memorize the enchanted view.
Marina came up to the surface and looked back toward the shore. Yes, picturesque, but nothing more. There was no room for the harmony of the sea depths there. Why did she feel like coming to this deserted and, you might say, wild place? As recently as yesterday she was relaxing at a civilized resort, lounging on a tanning bed under a sunshade, surrounded by a crowd of babbling tourists and their yelling children, with the screeches of Soviet and foreign pop-stars coming out of all the loudspeakers around. And now today, all of a sudden, she felt like being alone. Her gut feeling had brought her to this place.
She walked back onto the shore, bent down to pick up her towel and noticed a glittering thing. An odd spindle-shaped shell fit in her hand. Marina lifted it, brought it closer to her eyes and peeped inside, in the hope of seeing the owner of this amazing tiny house. However, the peculiar residence was empty. Then she put the shell against her ear and heard the deep breath of the ocean, so remote but nevertheless, so close. Eventually, she put the mysterious trove to her chest, uncertain if a decoration could be made out of it.
«I’ll take it home and decide what to do with it then», Marina thought. She felt lighter than she than she had ever felt before.
***
Heaven was a real madhouse. The whole space was filled with myriad cherubs scurrying to and fro. Angels were running around like crazy after the Spindle of Fate disappeared. Doing their utmost to solve the problem that had popped up, they were getting even more confused. The Apostles were searching all the dimensions, but in vain. There was nobody to consult, which aggravated the matter even further. God had left this dimension and nobody knew where he was!
A six-winged Seraphim was giving the last instructions to a young angel on the ninth cloud to the left:
«Repeat back to me: what is the essence of the Spindle of Fate?»
«It decides the fates of all living beings. It is the Creator’s main tool, his will is second. At present it has disappeared from its dimension, where it was kept sealed by demons. It is in the humans’ world».
«OK. You have been selected, trained, and blessed. You do navigation on the spot. Time to go. Benedictio Domini sit vobiscum. God bless you,» Seraphim was noticeably worn-out and exhausted.
Suddenly Heaven quaked and grew crimson. The Seraphim digressed for a second, then continued in rapid-fire:
«Demons are attacking us! Nationhood mobilization declared. You have to leave immediately. The