Not fairy tales

Not fairy tales
Nadyn Bagout

Stories similar to fairy tales from the past, ordreams of the future? A little bit of everything.A world full of magic and a world of cosmicaccomplishments. Mysticism and science. Can they get along? Why not.Which one is real? Everything is in the hands of the reader.

Not fairy tales

Nadyn Bagout

Nothing in this world is eternal, not even he himself.

But perhaps because of the fickleness

miracles happen in him.

The forests are whispering about something

in the vastness of the planet.

It seems to be just from the wind, but listen —

voices in a language you don’t know

they talk about eternity.

The stars, just dots above your home,

are suns for someone.

Or if you meet a river rapid,

lo and behold – the staircase winds upward.

If at the beginning you can’t see the road,

still strive for the horizon.

Learn to look at life with a broader perspective,

and perhaps the universe itself will seem incredibly simple to you.

Know that every crumb of space-time in this world is not

«nothing».

Cover designer Nadyn Bagout

© Nadyn Bagout, 2022

© Nadyn Bagout, cover design, 2022

ISBN 978-5-0056-1492-6

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Littlefish

The horse dragged along the road, barely moving legs. His hooves left almost no trace on the hard, dry ground.

The afternoon sun had no intention of hiding behind the sparse clouds.

Lendun has not met a single traveler in the last few hours, not since he left the borders of Martz district.

However, perhaps we should not be surprised: the people in the surrounding villages today indulge in idleness, resting after the Kakhnitz fair that ended the day before yesterday. Yesterday the road was no doubt crowded with wagons, mules and oxen, not to mention people on foot. After selling out their goods and filling up with other people’s goods, although there is already enough for someone, they hurry to go home, to put food in the stalls, to try on new clothes, to give the children toys and dainties.

He had missed the market himself, having been delayed at the shepherd’s home (or, to tell the truth, with his lovely daughter), so he was going to Kakhnitz, to the voivode, only now. But maybe it’s for the best: at least they will solve everything without fuss, without distraction.

A cool breeze blew in his face, which was unspeakably pleasant in such a sweltering heat. The boy perked up, cocking his dark-haired head, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Blue eyes picked up a faint glimmer beyond the nearby woods. Water…

A lake, perhaps, or a stream… …or a creek… Doesn’t matter.

He pulled the reins to get the horse off the beaten path and spurred him toward the trees. The animal snarled unhappily, his head jerking, but he obeyed.

In a couple of minutes, they were at the edge of the forest.

The shadows, rare at first, gradually thickened, bringing a welcome relief from the heat, if only for a short time: the beechwoods were a rather narrow grove, skirting, as he supposed, a small lake, five hundred feet across.

He literally jumped off his horse and rushed to the water, throwing off his clothes as he went: in a moment the worn pants, the sweaty linen shirt, the embroidered vest, and the boots lay on the shore in a slovenly heap. The traveler immediately dove headlong into the cool waves, confidently cutting the water with sweeping strokes, swam almost a third of the lake and came back. Reluctantly getting out on the ground, Lendun made sure that the horse was still there. He was a fine beast, no doubt: Zhimbar had taught him not to drink without a master. The boy came closer, stroked the steep black side. Firs snorted again, squinting dark blue eyes.

«Be patient, my friend. I’ll get you drunk later. We’ll be in Kahnitz for another hour. The voivode won’t spare the barley, will he? Baron has given us the full allowance. Not bad, what do you think?

An iridescent laugh that came suddenly from somewhere behind him made him shudder. His wet skin was covered in goosebumps.

Blaming himself for this indiscretion, Lendun turned sharply, snatching a long dagger from his satchel.

His eyes were fixed on a pile of boulders that jutted out into the lake. A girl’s giggles came from there.

Finding no one around to attack him, the young man, still looking around, quickly pulled on his clothes and cautiously, gazing round, headed toward the strangely inviting sound.

Behind the water-and time-honed stones, he saw an unexpected but wonderful picture.

A beautiful half-naked girl was sitting in the shallow water, splashing and laughing. Her long blond hair sparkled in the sunlight. Her skin, barely tanned, looked as smooth as a statue’s. Though no one would mistake her for a statue: she was too lively.

Lendun swallowed frantically, stopping dead in his tracks, unable to utter a word. He just stood there, watching the transparent droplets dripping down her young body, the straw strands fluttering in the breeze.

Suddenly the maiden turned around, staring straight at him. The laughter died down. He couldn’t tell the color or expression of her eyes from this distance, but she was surprised, that’s for sure.

So they stared at each other in utter silence for several minutes.

The beauty was the first to come to her senses.