Translator Natalie Lilienthal

© Natalie Yacobson, 2021

© Natalie Lilienthal, translation, 2021

ISBN 978-5-0053-8993-0

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Union with a magic state

The contract with unearthly fiery seal lay on his desk. Unprecedented honor! The seal of the King of the Elves Dagda himself, but Count Angus paused a little.

«To conclude an alliance with them, it means to destroy all of us,» whispered his knight Theobald. «We, people, and the magic people, were always enemies. Nothing can be changed by one contract. After all, the magic creatures are cunning. They just deceive us, sleep our vigilance.

«But the seal from fire is sacred for them,» the count first did not listen to the advice of Theobald. «See, it still burns and burns your fingers, even stands on paper.» But at the same time the paper itself does not burn! Isn’t a miracle! Even they will not be able to break it, since they put on the contract, it means that it will not be broken. The seal of Dagda himself!»

He touched reverently it with his fingers. The magic fire of the seal flamed, but no longer burned. From it only slightly pricked the fingers, and beautiful colored sparks were blocked on the skin.

«I’m going to marry tomorrow. I need peace, you need a guarantee that we will no longer be attacked. At least, from the side of the magic people – that enemy, which is not overcome by the earth’s weapon. With conventional enemies, we can cope, but not with magical. It is better to make peace.»

«A truce,» corrected the adviser, always worn black in the sign of Mourning for the deceased family and the abducted bride, which was probably already dead or was enchanted. The Count could understand it. The grief of Theobald was great. Moreover, he did not want something like that repeated and with Amaranta. She was already driving here to become his wife. Her retinue is insignificant. But even if it was big, the elves can easily attack from the forest, from the steppes, from the water, from the mountains, even from the hills, not to mention the air and heaven – they live everywhere. Do not agree with them it means to become a victim. He himself is a knight and will perish with dignity if he has to fight. The main thing is that he did not enjoy it. After all, death from witchcraft is tormented and terrible. Angus’s ownership suffered from attacks of the magic people since time immemorial. Supernatural enemies fell suddenly, no one in advance warning about his invasion, which greatly distinguished them from the human troops, which first declare war, and then they lead the troops. It is a pity that the fairies and elves lived solely by their rules. If they have at least some rules. Their people were multiple, diverse and unusually strong. Now the hordes of magic creatures were surrendered to the count’s fields, pulling and burning sowing, the fairies blown out the villages of Sleepy Dusty, from which the peasants even after the awakening performed an unusual rash, and the minds were damaged.

People who were enchanted by fairies, then all their lives went like sleepy flies and painfully reacted to the light of the moon. And from the elves’ archers there was no salvation. They always took what they wanted, leaving behind the meadows and lakes covered with poisonous spells, and even the ashes. The rights of strong magic creatures worked whatever. And the councils on them were not. From their attacks suffered still grandfather and great-grandfather of Angus. And his father they generally reduced the world. No one was able to save the late count from some joker-elves, who came on the moon night and started the game with him not to life, but for death because of some flirty moon fairies. Naturally, the person in the magic game lost and exhausted from the incurable disease in a matter of days. After all, the bet in the game was no more than life. Anyone who played in the bones with elves, then confused thoughts, and blood oozed from under the nails. Magic creatures came, playing and joking, and people then died. Supernatural diseases caught by their charms mowed the subjects of the count, as if the harvest. Angus himself would endure this years. But Amaranta he wanted to ensure security. If it would not be his beautiful blond bride, he would not think about the security of all the surrounding villages and villages, not to mention the safety of the whole world. The old witch doctor, which in the district was also considered as a prophet, somehow predicted that hardly magical folk, playing, wrap all the county, then the king of the elves and the fairies’ Queen would unite and go war against the whole world.

Angus himself was not familiar with the king Dagda, nor with his girlfriend the fairies’ Queen, about which, by the way, was going to have rather sinister rumors. But the stray elf, accidentally met at the crossroads, explained to him that any white bird released right at the sunset, it was tented to Dagda himself.

«In the sunset, the gates to our world will open,» he explained to the count. This elf itself has the sunset in color, because his skin was orange, like fire. He could lie, because elves by nature are false. Nevertheless, the count listened to him and sent a message in such an unusual way. The postal dove released into the sunset obviously reached the target. After all, the answer came. Angus was pleased that the king of Elves reacted so quickly and even offered his friendship. He did not see any tricks in this.

«I respect your advice, but now it’s wiser to do so,» he looked at the crippled hand, which Theobald hid under the glove – evidence of the attack of elves. He snatched his hand, though mutilated, and the family could not save. And now he was depressed. Nothing consoled him, as if the elves infected his heart to a poisonous black longing. The hand reloaded and started to exhibit magic, tormented Theobald even more. He went to the holy fathers, they tried to help him but without success

«If it becomes very bad, I don’t come to the castle,» he promised all the time.

It was better to prevent danger at the root. The responsibility of the count was to follow the affairs, both outside and inside the county. He also lost his parents from the attack of the magic creatures, but did not get out. He cared for his lands and subjects. Old disputes of his ancestors with the people of Fairy do not have more meaning. And Dagda considers it now also. After all, he put his stamp. Now only the signature and sealing of the count are needed. The wandering magicians, whom he met on the roads of counties and which then disappeared somewhere, turned out to be much smarter than all of his advisers. They advised to bore the message to Dagda with their own blood, because by one droplet of your blood, the elves can easily understand that you are not hypocritical. Be that as it may, the answer immediately came, delivered to the castle window with a tiny dragon ruby-colored and with silver eyes. It is probably he got to put a fiery stamp under the signature of the most great ruler of the elves’ Dagda.

To conclude a truce with the elves is much more smarter than to fight with them. After all, the forces are unequal. The consent of Dagda must be taken as mercy.

The count itself would not go to that. But for the sake of their people… For the sake of defenseless old men and children of counties, for the sake of Amaranta… And he put a seal with an admixture of his own blood. The whole contract immediately broke out with a flame, in which, however, did not burn, but divided into two copies. One for Dagda, the Lord of the Magic People, the second for the count, the patron of local people. So mankind and magic came to the Union. The Count hoped that the Union would be fertile and fruitful. After all, the elves are great assistants in the war and in work, if they want, not to mention the magic. And soon the messenger of Dagda himself will come to visit. It’s time to drink for peace. A tiny elf has already been sitting on a barrel with wine and noisily noted that, devastating one fell behind another, each more than it is size. These creatures were able to drink, and it is no longer impossible to drive them. But the price is worth it. After all, it’s already going here Amaranta with her retinue. The world is mainly for her. To prevent her beauty to bloom in complete safety in the county.

White bird with an amber in the forehead

Amaranta came out of the carriage. The wheel of the carriage flew from the axis just in the middle of the bridge, perched through the abyss. By legend, moon’s elves were built it.

«If you stay here at night, we will see how they dance,» the accompanying girls whispered. «They say they will lead mortals with them if they are invited to dance. Someone is thrown into the abyss, tangling a minute with him in heaven under the stars, and someone will give immortality.»

More like a fairy tale, Amaranta decided to herself. But the bridge really made the impression of a magical structure. Its foundations protruded directly from the rocks at the bottom and folded into bizarre stone arabesques. The railing was not. For that only the bridge was held and why did it not still have fallen? The abyss under it seemed bottomless and ice. It was worth looking down and the imagination was involuntarily played. It seemed that there were tormented and hundreds of early beings were screaming. It was cold around. And the bridge itself seemed made not from the stone, but from ice.