Kill me with your love. Part I. Iggy Joutsen
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The reason for that had not been the cases with those who had been trying to get into the forbidden zone in spite of taboos, but strange and inexplicable visions and sounds that had not caused any harm yet, but frightened anyone who had faced them. Shamans, so called witch doctors, present in every tribes, had asked the spirits of their ancestors for answers, which had turned out not to be good. So the peoples had decided to leave their native lands, inhabited for many centuries. They had believed that the angry gods had been driving them out of there for some inexplicable reason. Although in fact it had been only the first signs of awakening of Almighty Stone.
People are always inclined to give negative interpretations to strange phenomena for which they cannot find a logical explanation. It took another thousand years before the Almighty Stone had finally woken up. By that time, almost everyone had forgotten about the thicket, since the locals had left all the surrounding areas many years ago. The trails had been overgrown. The rocks had surrounded it with dense walls. No one had tried to conquer those thickets anymore. However, the legends that had long turned into fairy tales had still lived among peoples. When the right time had come, Almighty Stone had awoken fully. The forests had opened up. The rocks had parted, crashing down on each other. The earth had engulfed by earthquakes as in a fever, and covered first with small cracks, then with large ones, until finally, Almighty Stone had freed from the forced captivity of many years. Having shone with a bright blue light it had poured out energy that had scorched everything around with fire and left behind only dead soil. A pillar of light rushed to the sky. Those who had witnessed that had thought that the gods themselves had descended from heaven and began to flee from the strange glow and noise.
The most amazing thing was that there had been those who had not run away from awakened Stone at all, but, on the contrary, had rushed toward it. Enchanted by the call, some people of all walks of life, nationalities, faiths, ages and sexes had embarked on a long and difficult journey. No one can know how many of them there had been, but many had died on the way. Not everyone had reached their final point of destination. The brave men and women had been walking through ravines and potholes, rivers and swamps, fields and woods, mountains and flatlands, stopping at nothing. They had died of hunger, cold, heat and dehydration. Behind them they had left their loved ones, their homes and everything that had been the dearest of all. No obstacles could have halted the unwilling travelers. They would have rather accepted death. Among them there had been kings and slaves, servants and nobles, soldiers and nurses, who had been then equal before the magical power of Almighty Stone. Those who had reached the place rushed into the newly formed funnel, from where light had been bursting out. The seething and burning blue waves of the sea had swallowed them.
As soon as the last victim had jumped down, Stone had burst into a bright fire, illuminating nearly half the world with its unearthly light so the night had turned into a day, and then had gone out, never to light up again. Almighty Stone had disappeared, and Almighty Book has remained in Its place. After awaking the first Bernauses, It had read them a set of rules and actions and, closing itself, fell into the arms of the king of some southern lands, Arecu, who created the Council and became its first Dapirul (that is, chairperson or Supreme Leader). Almighty Stone gave everyone certain powers according to their personal qualities, character and temperament. Since then no Bernaus has been like any other in his or her magic. Everyone is unique.
It is also considered surprising that all mentions (direct or indirect) about that meteorite were erased from the memory of humankind in the literal sense of the word. Often it had to be done with fire and sword. Rock carvings and written sources were destroyed and eventually forgotten. Those who continued, despite all the prohibitions, to spread legends about the witchcraft woods did not escape the fate either. The talkers were exterminated cruelly and mercilessly. Thus, Almighty Stone was displaced from the memories of the past, and Book containing all the wisdom of magic has been kept by the Council and carefully passed down from generation to generation as they say.” Ema got up from her chair, making it clear that the lecture was over, and went to the window. The rays of the setting sun played on her hair, reflecting with reddish shades.
“What is necessary to become a member of the Council?” I asked, admiring my best friend’s youth and beauty.
“You need to challenge one of the Council members and win in a fair fight. The winner gets fame and a place on the Council, the loser must…” again making an intriguing pause to follow my reaction, Ema continued, “… die at the hands of a winner”.
The Sun disappeared below the horizon. The twilight of the night was rapidly advancing on the town. In an instant, clouds covered the entire sky, and rain poured down on the busy streets.
“This is your doing, isn’t it?” I asked Ema, no longer surprised by anything.
“We don’t need any witnesses. By the way, it’s about time to hit the road. I would like to introduce you to the others. I promise you will be pleasantly surprised”.
“Who doesn’t like surprises?”
7. Surprise
I didn’t like surprises, but most of all I hated rain. It was pouring cats and dogs, nonstop for several hours. It was enough for us to make our way through downtown to one of the abandoned buildings by the river. Although the streets were still crowded, no one paid attention to us. Everyone was trying to search refuge from a sudden shower of rain, which poured down on everyone indiscriminately. As for us, we did not escape that fate either, but thanks to the magical tricks of Ema, the water dripped on us without wetting a single fold of clothing.
“If we are so powerful, why make up all this fuss? Wouldn’t it be easier to teleport?” I shouted to my friend, barely keeping up with her fast-flying pace. Going out in public did not give me any pleasure at all. I would have preferred to stay in, so my voice betrayed me with irritation, which I wanted to hide. Ema, half-turning, shouted back, trying to sound louder than the noise of the downpour:
“If I had the powers of teleportation or at least knew someone who was gifted with it, then as they say, be my guest. In the meantime, we will act in the old fashion way: witching, so to speak, and all that jazz.
“Now I get it. All the legends about shamans, high priests, fortune tellers and psychics are not fiction, are they? Do all roads lead to Bernauses?”
“That’s right, although there have always been charlatans and scammers, both in the past and nowadays. However, most of the magical community consisted and still consists of “us”.
“Isn’t it forbidden to demonstrate your powers in front of people?”. I couldn’t help getting confused.
“Who says that they demonstrate them? It is not forbidden to help simple people. After all, they do not show their powers openly, but they pretend they do. Here we are.”
Before our eyes appeared a huge, abandoned building of a former television and radio factory from the late 80s, which had been functioning as both a civil and military enterprise (in Soviet times, almost all factories that were officially civilian, secretly worked for the “defense industry”). Its huge empty windows