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16

Lunar Bend, Ra Gro Manor,

day watch

I sit, clasping my knees pulled up to my chest, and watch how the water tries in vain to climb onto the shore. Upstream and downstream, the rifts are noisy, but here, in front of me, as far as the eye can see, there is a smooth and fast current. Dissatisfied with the narrow limits set by nature. To break free and bury everything that gets in the way under a sparkling and as smooth as a strip of steel smooth surface! To break free... At least for a moment. No, it won't work. Neither you nor me. Unless a miracle happens.

A flexible long rod, whistling fervently, cuts through the air, straightening the rings of the hair line, and the spring fly, which a minute ago crawled listlessly in the grass, makes its last flight, splashing against the water at a distance of twenty steps from the place where the ruthless fisherman is. Plop!

Shhhhhhh… It's the sound of the river, trying to take the bait with it. He tries in vain: the fishing line is pulled out to the limit, and confident hands begin to rewind and lay elastic rings on the grass.

The father is fishing. And I ... So, I'm watching. More than anything, I love to watch. True, this is too little to penetrate the essence of things, but I do not seek to outdo philosophers who weave elegant lace theories. I'm just watching. Idle contemplation of repetitive actions allows you to calm down and find a way out of the impasse of life. So they say. But I still can't see the exit. Maybe I'm even bad at being lazy.

“If you frown too much, wrinkles will appear,” my father says.

- Well, let. But I will look smarter.

- Actually, a forehead in a fold is not yet a sign of a deep mind.

I look up from the water. No, not to understand whether my parent is laughing or speaking seriously: real wisdom is always smiling and laughing. I just enjoy looking at it. On a flexible figure, on the interlacing of veins under the pale skin of the wrists, on a braid folded in half and tied with an unthinkable knot (otherwise it would have spread along the ground), on sparing, precise movements.

“Don't worry, son. Everything will be alright.

- I don't believe it anymore.

“But this is in vain,” follows a soft reproach. “If you don’t believe, you will lose the need for what you are striving for.

- So what? It will only get easier: why chase a bird that cannot be picked up? You can even twist your neck.

“What a wise man you have become,” laughing yellow-green, completely cat-like eyes in the shade of a straw hat. — Wisdom beyond his years.

- Tell me again - the hat is not on the head, - I grumble, admiring my father's smile.

“But now you’re scaring me,” the gaze turned on me becomes more attentive.

- How?

Who or what made you doubt yourself?

“Did I say I doubt it?

- Said.

- When is that? I do not remember. There were no such words.

“Words, words…” Father shakes his head. "Do you want me to tell you a secret?"

I squint excitedly, just like in childhood:

- Terrible?

- Highly!

— Open!

“Words are just a tool for expressing thoughts. The extent to which you know how to use them determines the significance of your speeches. If you know how badly, then the most beautiful and clever words will not help to express even a simple thought. Conversely, having only a handful of rough wooden beads at hand, one can explain how the world works. If you can do it.

- Stringing beads on a string?

- Exactly. On the thread of meaning.

“And what does all this have to do with me?”

- The most direct. You didn't even notice how a casually thrown phrase revealed to someone else's mind what was hidden in yours. Even if you just repeated someone's remark... Do not doubt yourself in vain, son. No need. Doubts are only useful if you see ways to get rid of them. And stupid grievances ... They will lead nowhere. Just slow down.

- And not stupid at all.

“Then tell me what’s bothering you,” the father suggests.

- Worried? .. So, directly, nothing. Small parts. Random events. Something I just can't get my hands on.

Because you can't see the tail.

- Yes, perhaps ... But this is not a problem. So far not a problem.

— Is there anything else?

— Nais.

- What with her?

She saw my date with the river.

- O! The father sighs knowingly. - It had to happen.

- I know. But not so early! I was hoping that at first we would… well… try to do everything like everyone else.

- Was she upset?

- Not that word! She screamed that I should not dare to seek a meeting with her.

- Harsh.

- And how! And she didn't listen to me.

What could you tell her? The father smiles sadly at the corners of his lips. — Is it done like that? So it is necessary that the race is not interrupted? Is there anything personal in this? She won't believe. Now he won't believe it. Even if she knows that at that moment you thought only of her. Did you think?

I do not answer, again peering into the swaying of heavy strands of water. I thought, of course. It's about her. And I regretted that I could so rarely devote my thoughts to a person dear to me. There is somehow not enough time in the service, and forces are spent on completely different things.

- What made you especially upset?

- Especially? - I'm thinking. - Well ... that she was jealous of me for the river.

My father laughs, and I look at him in confusion until the laughter subsides and allows you to hear:

- Oh, son, what a fool you are ... After all, jealousy is the first sign of love! What is there to regret?

And rightly so… How simple! And why didn't such an interpretation of what was happening come to my mind? Probably because it's really too stupid. And this is another reason to doubt your own worth.

Moonbeam, Ra Gro Manor,

evening watch

When I brought home a couple of salmon, kindly caught by my father after winning a fit of laughter, my mother pretended not to notice my appearance at all. However, she took the fish, and Mikis got his portion of reddish flesh, smelling sharply of freshness. I hope it counted for me, although the yellow eyes did not express anything other than: "Well, why did I wait so long?" I wonder if there are grateful creatures in this world? Whether bipedal or quadrupedal? While we have to admit: gratitude is impossible to find. However, am I looking for the right place? Suddenly lost in the wrong forest?

I didn’t want to eat, and I wasn’t supposed to: short-term fasting could only benefit me. Therefore, I preferred spiritual food to bodily food. In other words, closed in the library. He climbed with his feet into his favorite chair and plunged into thoughts, since there were plenty of topics for them.

If the father is right ... What am I saying! He is always right. And this means that the outbreak of jealousy irrefutably indicates that Nais has another, more desirable feeling for me. The whole question is whether it is conscious or not. Yes, she hurried to come and see for herself that I was safe and sound. It’s already wonderful, because before the ridiculous pranks that put me to bed for weeks did not bother my wife. Not a little. Did she understand? I really want to believe it! But, as they say, and want, and prickly. No, I'm not afraid to get burned. I'm afraid I'll burn her. Or rather, already burned. In vain, the girls of the Ra-Ell family are not told all the details of a possible future married life even in childhood. Oh what a waste. But, on the other hand, it is not supposed to tell in advance. In order to preserve secrets, if not state, then no less important ...

Change, like any magical intervention in the course of things prescribed by nature, imposes restrictions on its use in the future. Moreover, the strength and number of restrictions are the greater, the more important the result of the change and the more significant its impact on the world around. The world is beyond the changed . Those are the rules. Of course, they can be circumvented in some places, and in some places they can be violated, but my parents hammered into my head the holy belief that any violation of the foundations will entail punishment, the severity of which directly depends on the misconduct. Even when the offense is committed out of ignorance or ignorance: the stronger you pull the bowstring, the more painfully it will hit your fingers if you don’t know how to shoot. What is the conclusion from this? First, learn the tricks of Fate, and only then invite her to play a game.

Those involved in the change were also bound by rules that could not be broken. In particular, therefore, only two clans participated in the glorious work of preserving peace. After all, it would be much easier to give useful abilities to every second of the then inhabitants of Antreya! But is it safer? The ability to determine whether someone else's mind is healthy or not is a great temptation. So it is possible to send an objectionable courtier to the chopping block or into exile, to live a neighbor from the world, and all under the banner of the struggle for the common good. A dangerous gift, isn't it? Therefore, it was handed over to the one who balked to the last. Sincerely. Selflessly. To tantrums and threats against everyone and everyone. My distant ancestor (also Raiden, by the way) did not want to serve society, because he had many other hopes and aspirations. By hook or by crook they forced him, it is not known, but I fully inherited the donkey stubbornness of Ra Gro, which many contemporaries who know and do not know me personally regret. And, haha, I'll do everything in my power to make them even more sorry, because...

It is a bad thing to doom two people to go through life hand in hand. Evil and sinful. You can imagine what it's like, from the day something starts to linger in your head, to know: you will be with one of these noisy ankle-length girls for the rest of your life. Regardless of feelings. Regardless of desires. Simply because there is no other way. There is only one thing left: to accept your fate with all your heart. I did so. And Nais...

Well, why did she decide to see what I'm doing? She shouldn't have known... Never. The charm of any miracle will disappear if you meticulously familiarize yourself with its wrong side - the formula of the spell, a bag of moldy personal belongings needed for sorcery, and with the magician who created this miracle and always blowing his nose in his sleeve. I would give anything to keep my wife in the dark. But now you can't change anything.

As possessing a certain power, the heir of the Ra-Gro line was at a very great risk of not living to the time when he could conceive his successor. And, in order to avoid the danger of leaving the city without the next defender due to the untimely death of the previous one, a font was created that stored in itself ... and the seed as well. Well, there is no need to tell how this very seed got into it: everyone understands, although not a very decent action. In which I participate about twice a year. And if it happens that the marital bed still does not bring Nais and me together, she will go here and dip her body in warm water so that ... No, I don’t even want to think about it! Give your favorite river? It's too bitter. There is only one consolation: if my wife really has to splash in the font, it will mean that I am already dead. It's just that I won't care. No, I will see and feel everything, from beginning to end. Whether this is a punishment or a priceless gift, I do not know. I don't want to ask that question. But, probably, many fathers would gladly change places with me in order to be able to see how their son grows even after death. And how the aging wife grieves for the years not lived together ...

"So you're going to sleep?"

Mother's voice in my ear. Funny and caring at the same time.

- BUT?

- Go to bed. Stop breathing dust.

“But I like it,” I squint rather.

- I like it ... You need to clean the blood, and you are doing stupid things.

And not stupid at all! I... I should have thought.

— Thought? - the question sounds sincere interest.

- A little.

I recognize my son! You always think… a little.

She tries to appear strict, but every year it gets worse and worse: even now I want to hug my mother and press her to my chest, tightly, tightly, because I see how close to her heart she takes everything that happens to me. And how upset he is, seeing that for the most part stupid and unworthy things happen to me.

“Ma… Tell me, is Ney very upset?”

Inis bites her lip, but doesn't hurry to answer.

- Was she angry?

Silence.

- Screaming?

An even deeper silence.

- Did you cry?

Don't guess too hard, Ray. I do not want to talk about this.

- But why? There can be only one reason... You, too, once...

Green eyes are filled with pain.

- Yes, me too.

She turns too sharply, as if every movement hurts her, but I catch her hand and, sliding off the chair, kneel down:

“I'm sorry… I didn't want you to remember.

— I can't forget, Ray. Even if I wanted to. But I don't want to forget.

Inis's fingers are gently but surely released from mine, and after a breath, I'm alone. And in the library, and just. One.