Girls rule

I should probably introduce myself first. Name's Varvara Lugovaya. I know, that's quite a name. I study in the most ordinary tenth grade of the most ordinary average school. I'm not a star in my studies. My favorite game is Neverwinter Nights, part two, and probably Hollow Knight because of its dark atmosphere. I have one secret passion. Reading books. Not manga or manhua of any kind on the internet, but real printed fantasy books. I'm especially fond of elves. Especially about dark elves or drow, or as they are called - ilithiri. Well, I like these black-skinned ears a lot. Especially their way of life. Because girls rule. It's the right thing to do. At the end of the day, it's all about the woman. So we're in charge. Books with them are a rarity even on the Internet, and with the canon version of them - and even more so. I'm not really interested in any snotty stories with dark elf kings that can't exist in nature. Action's my thing. All the fights, the chases, the intrigue. I read wherever and whenever I have free time. At school, sitting on the windowsill, so as not to annoy my nervous classmates with a printed book. They apparently associate any book with a textbook. At home, after school, even at night if I can't sleep. I'm not spoiled with attention from the boys. I'm not pretty. A little chubby, dark blonde with gray-blue eyes. Not a bombshell or a skeleton, just a medium-sized, short guy. In general, because of my fondness for books, everyone considers me strange, even stuffy, and bypass me. And they proudly call me a bookworm. But somehow I don't care about it. They don't cling, and that's fine. I'm lucky with my ancestors. They're very supportive of my hobby. Although my dad wishes I was more into the classics. It's boring, it's boring, it's all misery. No, it's not my thing. But my mom is glad that I'm at least reading something, not hanging out in "TikTok" or social network chats. Today is just like any other day. I'm reading a small book of a hundred pages about my favorites at a big break at school. But before that, until three in the morning, I played my favorite games on my laptop. And now I felt like I was going to pay for it, pecking my nose incessantly, fighting the drowsiness. And then I felt myself falling asleep. Morpheus, the trash, had won the victory. It was not my classmates' oration "Wake up, Lugovaya!" that woke me up, but a soft youthful voice: "Wake up, Mistress Vaerville. Your mother demands your presence". "Well, basically, I like what he called me, Mistress. So, what's next. What's this gibberish for my name," I thought, struggling to get my sleepy eyelids open. That's where I was taken aback. I was lying on a wide, soft bed the size of an airfield, covered in scarlet silk. A bed with a heavy velvet canopy. Ebony furniture, faintly lit stone lamps. But I was most shocked when I saw who was speaking, barely adjusted to the semi-darkness. He was a handsome black elf, about my age, with white hair and amber eyes. Wearing modest fantasy clothing. No outward torsos or bare asses. Slim, trim. I looked at him like a sheep at a new gate, wondering who could have put some crap in my tea in the cafeteria. I did like the hallucination, though. He, on the other hand, was stomping in the doorway, averting his gaze in embarrassment. He was probably expecting me to yell and stomp my feet, resenting being woken up. " What do you want... "- I mumbled unintelligibly, realizing that we'd be silent until the second coming. "I'm sorry, mistress. It was not explained to me," he replied. "Okay... I'll be right back," I said, and the guy left. My head felt like it had been hit with a copper basin. "So, what the hell is this all about," I thought, running my fingers through my thick, long hair. Wait! Long??? It was just below my shoulders. And then I saw my own hand, with skin as black as soot. I looked all around me and clamped my mouth shut to keep from screaming. "I'M BLACK!!!" - Barely holding back a panic attack, ran through my head. "You're fucking dreaming," I said, my mind racing. I looked around again. I saw the big mirror. I jumped out of bed, nearly tangled in my black lace shirt. I rushed to the mirror, undressing as I went. From the reflective surface, a naked Drow girl looked back at me, her facial features barely recognizable as mine. Only slightly altered in an elven fashion. And long, pointed ears. Not without them. Slender, athletically fit. With size three firm breasts. Palpably firm. I even poked her with my finger. Silicon's just sitting on the sidelines. If I had such a figure in real life, all our fans of cool brand-name clothes and cars would die of envy. You'd have to swing an axe at guys. White hair, but curly for some reason. When I was looking for dark elves on the internet, I saw that they were drawn exclusively with straight snow-white hair. This one has snow-white lambs. And pink eyes. Why the hell are they pink?! Why aren't they scarlet or amber like normal Drow eyes? Now I have two questions: who am I and what am I doing here? I'm in a hackneyed coming-of-age novel in which the beginning of almost every story reads, "And now you're dead." Okay, first of all, I was in high school and I didn't die. I didn't get hit by a car, there was no transmigration of souls or any of that implausible nonsense. I felt like this body was mine, my own. Second: Since I'm here for something, I have to play by the rules of canon. There must be a reason I'm here. I guess there has to be. I looked around again. I noticed a chair by the bed that had clothes on it. Lacy underwear, tight pants, suede boots, and a lace-up tunic. Well thank goodness no metal bras or thongs. I got dressed and left the room. The drow guy was waiting for me in the hallway. "Please follow me, mistress," he said with a slight bow and led the way. "Anywhere," I thought. In the darkness, the corridor resembled an average medieval castle. The walls were smooth, as if polished. Tall semicircular doors, lamps. Engravings of spiders. The light, almost inaudible footsteps of my escort were most appealing. And his hair, pulled back in a ponytail. "I'll just have to scout around for now and go with the flow," I decided to myself. Soon he led me to a door guarded by two armed drow in light leather armor. The doors opened before me, and I entered a spacious hall, furnished with soft burgundy furniture, rugs covering the floor. There was a Drow woman sitting on a couch. She looked no more than twenty-five years old. So over five hundred by local standards, that's for sure. Scarlet soulful eyes. A lithe figure in a long silver streamlined dress. In the chairs sat five girls who looked remarkably like her. Some in lace dresses, some, like me, dressed campy. "I'm the white crow. Or black," I thought, noting how different I was from the other priestesses. "You're the most troubled of my daughters. Sometimes I think the goddess sent you to me as a test. I hope you remember what you did yesterday?" - Matrona said sternly. Her voice echoed off the walls of the room. "So what did I do? Yelling drunken ditties at the Temple of Lloth," I thought. "Look, she's not even remorseful," said one of the girls in the chair. "She thinks she can get away with it because she's the youngest," another said venomously. "I see. I'm on a bullshit account here," I guessed, and faded my gaze, pretending to be embarrassed. "Quiet!" Matrona shouted at them. "As punishment for disrespecting and insulting the princess of the First House at the First House matron's birthday dinner party. You will accompany her on a trip to another city," she said with solemn seriousness. "And that's a mild punishment. For such a thing, our House could have been exterminated. So pack your bags and go immediately to Princess Trielda Codendar's command. She will tell you what to do. If you disobey her, you will die. Now get out!" - Matrona said sternly. "Disobedient daughter," I mentally mocked her and left the room. "So, what we have. I've sent the princess of the First House to heaven. What kind of temple would you have to fall off to do something like that? She must've gotten on my nerves about something. I couldn't just be rude to her. Or I could. And if she's agreed to keep it quiet with a simple escort, then I'm in for some serious shit. She's counting on getting even. Well, well, well," I thought as I walked down the corridors of the underground palace. After being here for a while, I began to orient myself better. My body memory, or whatever it's called, had kicked in. I reached my room and wondered. What could I take with me on a short-term camping trip? Probably nothing but a dark elven pivafvi cloak. Then I left my private quarters and headed to the next room that belonged to me. This is where I was stunned. Tables, smoking flasks, glowing liquids, stands with pentagrams. Lots of vials on the shelves. "What am I, a mage? No, worse. I'm an alchemist! So where do we start..." - I thought, and started raking all the vials from the shelves into the bottomless bag I'd brought with me. I heard the door creak and turned around. Oh, my God, my legs almost gave out. There were five drow boys standing in front of me, real handsome guys. Well, at least that's what it looked like to me. Tall, broad-shouldered, slim and trim. Wearing black leather armor that was streamlined, like a second skin. And the molded thighs hinted unmistakably at appetizing asses. With fine facial features, snow-white eyebrows and thick eyelashes, and gorgeous white hair of varying lengths. The one standing in front of everyone stood out in particular. Scarlet eyes and a short haircut. Very similar to the one so popular with our Earth guys. Long bangs and short-cropped hair in the back. They were all about my age or a little older. "Mistress, we await your orders," he said. And everyone, as if on cue, went down on one knee. "God, I'm in a world of my own crashes. Is this, like, my security," I thought, feeling a slight dizziness and a rapid heart rate. Whatever it is, I'm in heaven. After some time in nirvana, I woke up. I pulled myself together. I remembered I'm a tough drow girl. They're these strong-willed, iron-clad women. Femme with a BDSM angle. So I'm kind of in charge and I'm supposed to be in charge. "Okay, let's go or something..." - I mumbled, not fully recovered from the euphoria. Yeah, I'm not a strong-willed woman yet. Not by a long shot. The boys got up and left my abode after me. After leaving the residence of my House, we headed toward the First House. There was time to look at the local architecture. It was angular, rough, but majestic. And with the ever-present depiction of Drow women. "Okay, question number one on the agenda: what house I belong to and what it's called. The number two question is what are the names of my bodyguards. And there's no one to ask, because I'm supposed to know that," I thought. Soon we stopped in front of a tall wrought iron gate. The ornamentation in the form of a spider's web, with a spider in the center, was impressive. The commander of my guard approached one of the warriors standing in front of the gate. "We are messengers from the Tenth House of Zauana. We are expected," he said. "Come in," the gatekeeper said, giving us a mocking look. "Oh great. We're at the bottom of the hierarchy," I thought as I walked through the gate. There was a commotion in the courtyard of the imposing palace. A lizard was being pulled into a lavish leather carriage. Armed Drow men and warrior women stood around it. Among them, a smartly dressed priestess stood out. The very one who had brought the party to a close. When she saw me, her beautiful face twisted in a contemptuous grimace, as if she'd eaten a pound of lemons or stepped in shit. "Oh, Vaervil Zauana. What an honor for our house to have you honor it with your presence," she said in a mocking tone. Which drew laughter from the women standing nearby. She looked a little older than my mother in this world. "Now I see what that old witch has been bugging me about," I thought irritably. "Mistress, greet the princess," one of my boyfriends standing behind me whispered quietly. "I salute you," I blurted out, not even thinking to bow, while my guards bowed deeply. "My God, what squalor!" - Trielda grimaced as she got into the fur-lined wagon. Soon the procession left the castle and then the city limits. I looked around with genuine interest as I entered the grottoes of the dungeon. When else would you find yourself in a dungeon? Islets of glowing mushrooms and lichens served as partial illumination. But the walls of the vaults and ceilings were especially attractive. For it was there, as I remembered, that danger in the form of predators or carnivorous slugs or giant bats most often lurked. A couple of times I almost fell into an acid puddle or into the nets of a tunnel weaver. Thanks to my vigilant guards, who rushed to pull their mistress out of another asshole. I don't know how long we walked. Our company was at the end of the procession, and my guards looked around warily, as if they were expecting an attack at any second. We decided to make a halt. We moved closer to the main cluster of warriors. Her ancient majesty, getting out of the carriage to stretch her legs, dropped the fan she had been waving majestically during the ride. She beckoned to one of my warriors, who, to her misfortune, stood closest to her. He bent down and, lifting the fan, handed it to her with its handle, forgetting to bow. "Don't you scum know how to serve a highborn lady? Well, it's typical for a scum like the House of Zauana. Well, if they didn't teach you manners, I'll have to teach you," she said, pulling out a three-snake whip from under her cloak. Such a lash left terrible, non-healing wounds, often poisonous. He collapsed to his knees. "I'm sorry, mistress," he said in a trembling voice, but was not heard. The guy clenched into a ball and clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the blow. I was jerked out of my seat. I rushed at him headlong, stepping between him and Trielda a second before the lash was about to touch his back. The snakes wrapped around the arm I had put out in front of me. I yanked the whip toward me, wrenching it from its owner's grasp and shaking it aside. I knew very well: if you take the hilt of another's snake whip, it will strike. It might even kill. "Listen, you old grump! If you touch my boys again, I'll rip your hands off!" - I hissed with anger. My clothes were covered with holes where they'd come into contact with the snakes. And then there was a sepulchral silence. I could hear water dripping from the vaults of the cave. Everyone was freaking out. The princess and her entourage at my audacity. Me, at my audacity. My guards from the overall situation. If a Drow woman protects a man, she's in over her head. The sight of Trielda's mouth flapping with indignation amused him greatly. "What did you say, you nothingness!" - she yelled. "Don't yell or you'll collapse the vaults," I said calmly. Then I remembered that I was a Drow, and that I was in a precarious position in my humble home. "For the hearing impaired, I repeat. They're mine, and only I have the right to torture them. I'm supposed to be your servant, not some man's," I said. Satisfied with my answer, she sat down in the chair placed for her. And my boys breathed a sigh of relief. The princess of the glorious House of Codendar beckoned to me. "Entertain me with singing," she commanded. "Well, it can be done," I replied. "The end of you, you old bitch," I thought to myself, and I dragged on a high note. "This ain't a song for the broken-hearted. No silent prayer for the faith-departed. I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd. You're gonna hear my voice. When I shout it out loud. It's my life! It feels so far like a millions miles. Give me, give me, give me, give me little hand. Just listen to your heart, don't consider it. I'm looking out at the city night. I see your eyes in city lights. Moscow calling. Operator don't tease me. Moscow calling. Hey operator, what's going on? Fuck off. Fuck off. Red lips, black eyes, haircut, freak style. Earring, high heels, look at the mirror. Glam, shine, red wine, champagne, feels fine. Smile, face, cocaine, I'm ready to go. I'm living my live" - I howled a medley of whatever came into my crazy head. Elves have beautiful voices? I completely disproved that theory. The highborn lady put her hands over her ears, trying not to hear my cacophony. My boyfriends faded, gray in the face, wishing they could fall through the ground and not be witnesses to this disgrace. "Somebody shut her up!!!" - wailed Trielda. But it wasn't her scream that stopped me, it was the pleading voice of one of my boyfriends. The one I'd saved. "Mistress, please, no more". I turned around. His amber eyes were so close. His snow-white hair, just below his shoulders, was gathered from his temples with a leather cord. "For you, handsome, anything for you," I thought and fell silent. "Get out of my sight! Go scouting!" - yelled Trielda. "To reconnoitering, so to reconnoitering. As you say, chief," I said, and walked forward with a sense of accomplishment. We went deeper into the corridors of the dungeons. I suspected that we were being used as bait for predators and renegade bandits, of which there were many in the dungeon corridors. But I didn't think about it at that moment, walking merrily along in high spirits. I was glad I'd gotten my revenge on that white-haired harpy. We've reached a fork in the road. I wonder which way her noble ugly mug will go. "We should split up. Three will go one way, and three will go the other," I began to command. "What's your name..." - I turned to the commander of my guard, pretending I didn't have to remember the man's name. "Alakzar," the red-eyed man replied with a slight bow. "Antri," the drow I'd rescued introduced himself. "Kalanas," said another with long hair pulled back into a high ponytail. "Shargos," said the next one, with orange-colored eyes and a very short military haircut. "Viktar," said the latter, with ruby eyes, short haircut. "Well, there you go," I grinned, satisfied that I'd gotten their names out. "Okay, Antri and Viktar are coming with me. Shargos and Kalanas go with Alakzar. Alakzar is in charge," I commanded. "Yes, mistress," the drow said with a slight bow. We separated and went to different corridors of the cave. The corridor into which I turned with my escorts was slightly narrower than the main one. "So I'm kind of in a flying cloak. And how do I fly this thing," I pondered, sending a mental command to the cloak to fly. After a few fruitless attempts, I managed to get off the ground and into the air. "Yay! I'm flying!" - I shouted enthusiastically, kicking my legs in the air. "Mistress, please be quiet," Viktar said cautiously. And the next minute, some toothy thing with webbed wings flew down from the vaults of the cave and lunged at me with obviously bad intentions. I screamed as loud as I could. But then I heard a whoosh in the air, and the creature's head flew off to the side. Blood spurted out. Antri was floating in the air in front of me with a narrow, bloody sword. His movements were so lightning fast that I didn't notice them. In shock, I felt myself falling, and I screamed again. But I landed in Viktar's caring arms. "Are you all right, mistress?" - He was worried. "It's awesome!" - and my satisfied face broke into an equally satisfied smile. When else would a guy carry me in his arms? However, nothing good lasts forever, and he brought me back down to earth. I decided not to experiment with flying anymore. I went on ahead. We went deeper and deeper into the corridors of the dungeons. But there was nothing but underground flora. Then the corridor turned sharply to the left, and the walls became visible protrusions. My escorts turned to hearing. Their footsteps became almost inaudible. I was a little behind, standing with my back to a depression in the rock. I turned around when I heard some sort of chattering, and I was stunned. There was a small cave at the bottom of the rock, and a creature that looked like both a crayfish and a giant grasshopper had crawled out of it. It clucked its pincers and crawled toward me. I found nothing better than to crush the disgusting creature. But the chattering from the mink intensified, and several of the creatures crawled toward me, chittering viciously, intent on avenging their fellow man. I felt a hand grab my arm, forcing me to flee. It was Antri. "What are those things?" - I asked on the run. "Rattles, scavengers, but they can attack. So you shouldn't make them angry," he said. "That last one is exactly the problem," the thought flashed through my mind. Viktar joined us. We ran to a huge boulder and climbed it. The rattles surrounded the boulder, trying to climb it, but realizing their helplessness, they got even angrier and started jumping up, trying to reach us. But the guys kicked them back. Eventually I got tired of it, so I reached into my bag. I pulled out the first bottle I could find, and seeing the green blot on it, I opened the cork. The pungent odor hit my nostrils, and without looking, I threw it at the insects, which were twice as numerous as before. There was a hissing and squawking sound. When it died down, I looked down cautiously. At the foot of the boulder lay a few shells in a green, smoky slurry. The survivors had scrambled away. "Acid," I guessed. "They'll know how to mess with alchemists!" - I declared triumphantly. But my misadventures didn't end there. Then we ran away from a pack of striped spiders and a flying kite. I threw vials at them, and there were pops and explosions everywhere. The walls were left colored huge splotches of color. I managed to get into a carnivorous slug trap that the boys pulled me out of, risking being pulled into its hole and becoming its lunch. I threw another vial into the trap for the last time, and the slime caught fire, then spilled over to his lair. We continued on our way again. I sat down on a small rock to take a break. "That white-haired mop's going to dance on me. "I'll give her the walk of her life. I'll give her a fun life!" - I promised mentally, boiling with anger. With a little rest, we packed up to hit the road. "Somewhere around here, the two tunnels should come together. We should meet our own soon," said Viktar. "I wish it would happen sooner," I said, hiding my excitement for the other group. If we're having so much fun, they're having just as much fun. We continued on our way. Suddenly Antri noticed some movement on the ceiling and froze, making a sign to Viktar. He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. "What... "- I said. Viktar made a quieter sign and pointed to the ceiling of the cave. A giant shadow was moving there. As it drew closer, it took the form of a giant mutant spider: a mixture of a spider and a drow man, a so-called drauk. It is said that only the strongest priestesses can turn a male drow into such a monster. And there is no telling what is worse: to be dissected on the altar of Lloth or to be turned into a monster whose only instincts are malice and lust for killing. The creature, hanging from the ceiling, let out a vicious hiss as it drew its blades. My drow drew theirs as well, ready for a fight, perhaps an unequal one. Defeating a drauk was not easy. "As soon as we engage, run. You'll meet the other group. And if they get there in time to help us, we might survive," Antri told her. "What? No! I'm not leaving you. Besides, there's no guarantee I'll make it to the other group alive," I said. Antri looked at me doomedly. "We must not return from this trek alive," Antri said suddenly. "What?!" - I was dumbfounded. "Your mother sacrificed you to the welfare of the House. The First House forgets nothing and forgives nothing. We must all die. Only then will the House of Zauana be forgiven," Antri explained in a tone as if he were revealing a secret before his death. "But... But you had nothing to do with it. Why did you follow me? "- I resented you. "Well that's to be expected," I remembered the drow's penchant for intrigue, treachery, and betrayal. The drow pushed off the ground and soared into the air, drawing the drake's attention back to himself. The monster, however, was extremely agile despite its size. The sabers and swords were spinning like propellers at breakneck speed. It was impossible not to admire my bodyguards. After a second, I pulled myself away from the spectacle and began rummaging through my bag, wanting to help them. I pulled out vials, but everything was wrong. Then I pulled out a bottle with a picture of the sun. "Light and Noise. That's the one!" - I rejoiced. "Get downstairs now and close your eyes!" - I shouted, hoping the guys would hear me. Dodging another lunge from the drauk, they followed my order and rushed down, falling to the ground, face down on the ground. At that moment, I popped the cork and threw the vial into the vault above the drauk. The vial shattered. The drauk raised his head at the sound. The cave lit up with a bright flash. I was blinded, as was the drauk. He couldn't hold on to the ceiling and collapsed to the ground, looking around helplessly. My boys did not yawn, quickly jumping up and finishing the monster off. Afterward, we continued on our way. I felt dead tired. My legs were buzzing. My eyes were watering. And then my nerves gave out. I sat down on some giant mushroom and cried. "That's it, I'm done. I don't want to be eaten by any animal. I'll never move again!" - I howled, sobbing and smearing tears down my cheeks. The Drow looked at me confused, unsure of what to do. Apparently, the way I was behaving now, strong-willed, iron-willed Drow women don't behave. "And I'm not a drow, and I'm not ironclad. I'm seventeen, and I want to live," I thought, and that made me feel even more sorry for myself. And then, from a hole in the wall opposite me, I saw some kind of open, toothy maw staring back at me, and I threw a vial into it without looking. "And you get out of the fog, or I'll kick your ass!" - I yelled at some chupacabra that had decided to eat a snack without leaving the house. After swallowing the vial, the chupacabra looked at me with yellow eyes. Then, not sensing the food I was looking for, it tried to open its jaws again to devour me. But my jaws were stuck together by some viscous substance. Chupacabra mumbled something unhappily, tried to shake his paws on his face, then, resentfully looking at the failed dinner, that is, at me, and hid in the cave. I, on the other hand, had been shedding tears all this time. The Drow looked at me and came over to me. They sat down beside me. "Mistress, there's no need to" - Viktar began uncertainly. "We won't let you offend. We'd rather die ourselves..." Antri added. When I heard his last words, I burst into tears, imagining that I would be alone in this horrible place. The guys were confused. Viktar tentatively touched my hair, trying to stroke my head, not knowing how I would react. Whether I would consider the unauthorized male touch an insult. But when he saw that I didn't resist or show displeasure, he put his arm around my shoulders and made me lean my head on his shoulder. Antri took my hand and stroked my fingers. I began to calm down. And what a pleasure it was. I had never felt such a high before. "And it's all mine," I dissolved into something pleasant, listening even through my armor to Viktar's heartbeat, feeling Antri's gentle strokes. Being in this paradise, I almost fell asleep. But then I woke up, pulled myself together, got up from the mushroom, remembered that the girls had to steer, and started steering. Run for your lives! "Okay, let's go," I said, shaking myself off. The boys stood up and got down on one knee. "We will take the moment of your weakness with us to the grave," Antri said solemnly. I stared at them in bewilderment. "Oh, well, don't worry about it. I don't really care. You might want to hold off on the grave for a while. I need you here. Alive and well," I deadpanned and walked on. Soon we came to the very spot where the two corridors came together. A little ways away was a small clearing covered with a fine tuft of grass. What I saw made me stop. Shargos was lying on the grass, and he didn't look awake at all. Alakzar was crouched beside him. He was giving him water from a flask. "What happened?!" - I got excited when I saw Shargos's gray face. "Needletail. I didn't notice when I was fighting the tunnel weaver. He pushed me out, and he got hurt," Alakzar explained, lamenting that he would not be a good commander. "Needles needletail are poisonous," Kalanas reminded him. Everyone looked at the dying Shargos with regret. I remembered that a needletail was a small animal, like an armadillo, but with a long tail and needles on the end. "All right, break it up!" - I ordered, and I was allowed to go to the wounded man. "Please, mistress, ease my suffering. Do it quickly," Shargos asked in a weakened voice. I realized he'd asked me to kill him. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up in fear. "Don't p-panic!" - I said as seriously as I could, even though I was stuttering. I started going through my bag. All the vials I pulled out were useless. And then I fumbled for some wood. I pulled it out. It was a short wooden stick with a blue-colored crystal attached to it. When I looked at the crystal, I saw lightning flashing inside it. "Free the wound from your clothes," I ordered. They started undressing the guy. And there he was, stripped to the waist. And all those biceps, triceps, pecs and abs. I shook my head, focusing on the treatment, not the patient's body. A nice body. Having read on the Internet that electricity neutralized the poison protein, I poked the stone into the wound with all my might. The guy got a jolt of electricity that made his short hair stand on end. And he looked at me doomedly, as if asking me to finish him off and not to torture him anymore. But I was stubborn and started digging through my bag again. I finally pulled out a couple of vials. One with a crossed-out skull, the other with a crossed-out drop of blood. "That's it!" - I proclaimed triumphantly. And Shargos almost fainted. I poured a couple drops of antidote into the wound, then wound-healing fluid, and the boy was visibly better. The wound was dressed and he was left to recover. I moved away from the boys and sat down on some rock. Alakzar and Viktar, meanwhile, were looking in my direction, talking about something. Then Alakzar came toward me. "My mistress, what Antri told you..." he began. "It doesn't matter. I get it. Why the hell are you involved in this? This has nothing to do with you. Or did someone tell you to?" - I said. "No orders. We did. No one knows we left with you," Alakzar replied. "I didn't understand," I said, staring at him in surprise. My bodyguard sighed heavily. "You saved our lives once. We were just boys then. We were sent to clean the family temple of Lloth. And we accidentally broke a large vase depicting the goddess. We would have been executed for that, despite our young age. But you stood up for us and took the blame. You were severely punished in the temple. You may not remember it, but we do, and we want to return the favor. If you are to die, we will gladly share your fate," Alakzar replied. I looked into his scarlet eyes, determined to do what he wanted. I realized that even if by some miracle we survived, there was no turning back. We'd be slaughtered by my sisters, no matter how closely related we were. "Okay, war is war," I thought as I stood up. "We have to go," I said. "Where to? They will track us, and they will find us," Alakzar countered. "They won't find us if we go to the surface," I said and headed toward the wounded man. "To the surface. But how will we survive there? The Drow aren't very welcome there," Kalanas reminded him, standing nearby. "You've survived your whole life in this hellhole, here, and you're afraid of the surface. Trust me, it's not as bad as it sounds," I grinned. The decision was made to fake his death and go to the surface. But before doing so. REVENGE. It's in the Dark Elven tradition. The procession slowly reached the oasis where Shargos had been wounded. One of the princess's warriors looked around the clearing and saw a bloodstain on the grass, a scrap of my bloody clothes, and Kalanas's stiletto. "They're dead, mistress," he reported, dropping to one knee. "Lloth heard my prayers and avenged me! The Goddess favors me and my House!" - The old hag solemnly proclaimed, wishing to have a picnic at the place of our death. We hovered in the vaults of the cave, hiding behind an imposing ledge near the ceiling, watching the clearing being set up. A huge fur was spread out, cushions were thrown on top. The princess of the First House climbed on top of it, stretching half-lying on the cushions. Food was placed in front of her. And our hungry stomachs almost gave out, remembering that we hadn't eaten since we left the city. Once Trielda had mellowed from the liquor she had drunk, I sprang into action. Slowly leaving my hiding place, I hovered directly above her. The cloak did a good job of concealing my presence. I poured the contents of the mushroom vial over her snow-white hair. The iridescent liquid spread over it, and in a couple of seconds, the princess's entire head was covered with colorful mushrooms. The entourage froze in bewilderment. Shock is our way. Some turned away and clasped their hands over their mouths to keep from laughing. "Mistress, on your luxurious hair," said one of the boldest warriors of the House. "What's wrong with my hair!" - Trielda said sternly. The warrior reached out and tried to pluck one of the mushrooms. The princess of the glorious House of Codendar howled in pain. Then she touched her hair and, fumbling for the mushroom, demanded a mirror. When she saw the mushroom bed on her head, she began to run around the clearing like a rabbit, showering everyone and everything with curses, threats of reprisal, and slapping everyone who came to hand. Even the lizard in the wagon was hurt. We sat quiet as mice under the ceiling and choked with laughter. "Will she have this forever?" - Kalanas asked. "No. Just for 24 hours. Then they'll fall off," I said. "It's a pity," the drow sighed. When the picnic was over and everyone had cleaned up, we left our hiding place after a while, making sure that neither scouts nor spies were here. Then we returned to one of the corridors and, turning into a small side one, went into another tunnel. It took us two days to get to the surface, and Kalanas helped us here, showing himself a master of fishing and the ability to set snares for all sorts of underground animals. He didn't let us starve to death. We had to fight off a couple of predatory creatures. A couple times we had to get away from goblin scouts and dwarves. The Drow didn't like them either, or rather, they didn't like them at all. A bright light glimmered in the distance, signaling that we'd made it. The hot, blinding light of our freedom. I didn't know what lay ahead, but at least we would live. I walked ahead, and, not yet past the stone vault of the exit, our cloaks began to fall apart. They couldn't stand the sunlight. I took one last look at my boys. Really mine now. I smiled at them and stepped toward the unknown and the bright sun. "Wake up, Lugovaya!" - I felt someone push me. I peeled my sleepy eyelids open and got up from my desk and looked around. The bright light was in my eyes. My classroom, my last desk away from the window. "Damn, so it was a Dream!!!" - I almost howled in frustration. My boys didn't exist! DIDN'T EXIST!!! The rest of the day was kind of sluggish. When I got home, I couldn't eat a bite at the table. My mom joked that I was in love. Yes, in love with her dream, with her drow. Though they were completely different in personality, each of them felt warm, like home. Each glance made her heart sink in sweet languor. Especially Alakzar's. I did my homework and couldn't wait for nightfall. I hoped I'd dream about them again, but it didn't happen that day or the next. I even cried out of frustration. All week I walked around like a beaten man. I couldn't enjoy my favorite games or books. I even tried to draw my elves. I was afraid I'd forget what they looked like. But what could I do with my stick-figure drawing skills? At that moment, I felt more alone in the world than ever. Over the weekend, my dad decided to dispel my homesickness with a shopping trip. The last day of the school week was cloudy. A nasty little rain drizzled all day long. As always after going to the canteen, I was sitting in the classroom before my literature lesson. Everyone was in groups and discussing something of their own. My passions about my dream had slowly subsided. What was the use of worrying about it, even if it was exciting and beautiful. "It's all hormones and puberty," my mom reassured me. Okay, so be it. Then our homeroom teacher walked into the classroom. Followed by some guy. "All right, my dears, we have a newcomer to the class. Alexander Zimin. Please love and welcome..." - she said, going on and on about how friendly we were and everything. Yeah, right, right away. I stared out the window, indifferent to what was happening, but an interested whisper from the side of our beau monde alerted me, and I looked at the newcomer. Blond short hair, fashionable haircut with long bangs. Brown eyes. Athletic, trim, slim. Leather kosukha and half gloves, black jeans. A so-called fashionable look. "Dandy," I snorted mentally, though I was wrong. The guy was very handsome. He glanced at his future classmates with indifference. And the more I looked at his features, the more they seemed vaguely familiar. When a hunch lit up my bad head, it was as if I'd been hit with a bucket of ice water. It was one of my elves, only in human form. "Alakzar," his name popped up from the depths of my memory. And only now did I realize how similar it was to Alexander's name. He sensed my gaze and looked in my direction. I turned my back to the window, looking at the fly crawling across the glass with interest. As soon as the class teacher got tired of praising us and left, he walked along the rows, looking for a free seat, accompanied by interested girls' gazes. "Isn't it busy?" - He asked me. The sound of his voice made me jump involuntarily. Slowly, as if in a dream, I turned around. "No," I whispered in a suddenly settled voice. He threw his leather backpack on the table and sat down in a chair. "Alexander," he introduced himself. "I heard," I mumbled. "What about you?" - He asked. "Varvara," I answered grudgingly. Our flamboyant chasers of cool kids began to run circles around the aisle of our row, trying to attract the attention of the newcomer. He kept staring at my cheap Chinese smartphone. "What are you reading?" - He asked when he saw a page of an e-book open on my phone. "None of your business," I snorted, turning my phone over. My plans to finish the story were doomed to failure. "Sorry," he said and pretended to pull notebooks out of his backpack. At the next break, as usual, I went out into the corridor and, sitting on the window sill, for which the cleaners were mercilessly persecuted, I was going to read, as I heard a familiar voice near me. "Why don't you give me a little tour? You know the place." "Yeah, I'm running and stumbling now. Ask the others. There are enough dumb girls out there who will show you anything from a low start," I thought, and apparently my thoughts were reflected quite clearly on my face. "You obviously don't like me," the guy concluded, crossing his arms over his chest. "What a clue," I grinned to myself. "I'm just a new person here, and it's only natural that I want to make friends with someone," Zimin explained, clearly not understanding my dislike. "I know some hot, handsome heartbreakers. I've read about them. They pick the most uptight girl in the class, like a gray mouse. Preferably ugly enough, but not ugly enough. And they start treating her well. Care for her, help her, protect her. Then, "I liked you right away. Let's go out." "I like you right away. Let's date. And then it's candy, flowers, dates. And then the pussy hangs her ears, thinks she's a beauty queen. Then she confesses her love. How can you not love someone so perfect? Then the first kiss, and maybe even something else first. And then, "I'm sorry, darling. "Our meeting was a mistake. "I was joking the whole time. And I just didn't need another deluded idiot to even the score." And leaves her in tears and disappointment. And she sees him doing the same thing with someone else the very next day. Some moral assholes get off on hurting others. But I don't want to be such an idiot. So, Alexander, you should go your own way. your own way, which doesn't intersect with mine in any places," I thought, glaring at him. "I don't have time for this. Ask someone else," I said, jumping down from the windowsill when I saw the cleaning lady in the hallway. Suddenly I felt him stop me by taking my hand. "Why did you do that? I haven't done anything bad to you," he said. "Yeah, well, he didn't make it," I thought. "Okay, after school," I answered for some reason. "A field trip isn't like a date. The main thing is to keep your distance," I decided. After class, I picked up my windbreaker from my classroom and we went down to the first floor, looked at tomorrow's schedule and walked down the hall. "You can see the library door on your right," I said like a seasoned guide. "Then the psychologist's office, the principal's office, the school museum. Classes for extra classes and electives," I continued. Then I went to the window and pointed to the neighboring low building. "This is the dining hall, and behind the main building is the multipurpose gymnasium. The tour is over," I reported, then headed for the exit. We got on the same bus. "Why don't I walk you home?" - He offered, standing very close to me. I could literally smell the pleasant, light scent of his perfume, and it made me a little uncomfortable. " Thank you. But before you came to our class, I was doing fine on my own," I blurted out. The bus shook, and I felt myself falling, but a strong arm around my waist stopped me from falling. It was, well, who would have thought it, Alexander. "Thank you," I mumbled, pulling myself out of his strong embrace. We got off at one stop. "Do you live in the same neighborhood as me?" - I wondered, looking at him questioningly. "No. I live further away, in a new building. I wanted to see where you live," he answered. I looked at him like he was a maniac. But he chose not to see it. "What are you planning to do tomorrow, by the way?" - He asked when we reached my house and the driveway. "I have a shopping trip with my parents tomorrow," I replied. "What about after? Why don't we go for a walk?" - my newfound classmate suggested. "This guy's pushy. He's not something you can just chase away," I thought. "I don't know. Bye," I said, and disappeared down the stairs. Sitting in class later, I didn't understand. Why did I go after him? He really didn't do anything bad to me. He'll get offended. For some reason, I didn't want to see one of those fancy mops next to him. "Okay. Stop. I don't care," I reminded myself. I didn't know how I felt: on the one hand, I was attracted to him, but on the other, I wanted to run away from him. The next day, Dad announced that he couldn't go shopping with me and I would have to entertain myself on my own. I walked through the clothing stores and couldn't pass by the bookstore. I involuntarily remembered the clingy newcomer and headed for the psychology section, namely criminal psychology. Took a rather voluminous book by John Douglas "Sexual Maniacs. Psychological Portraits and Motives" and started leafing through it. "I didn't know you liked that kind of literature," I heard Alexander's voice in my ear. I jumped on the spot in surprise and dropped the book. "And you suppose I have no reason to be interested in such literature?" - I said, looking at him sternly. "Oh, come on. I just happened to see you here. I just came to add to my library," he said. The word "library" sent shivers down my spine. I immediately wanted to ask him to come and see it. "Okay. Stop. Wake up, dummy. Maybe that's what he's counting on," I realized. "And what literary genre are you into?" - I asked rhetorically. "A little bit of everything," he said, heading for the thriller shelf. "It was nice to see you. Bye," I said, still not choosing a book. "Wait a minute. My offer to go for a walk still stands, if you don't mind. And you haven't chosen anything," he reminded me. "Next time," I said. He paid for his purchase, slipped the book into his backpack, and we walked out together. "Where do you want to go? Maybe you have a favorite place? - Alexander asked. "Well, there's this park. It's quiet and peaceful," I said. "Okay, let's go," he said, and we went. The park was just around the corner. Paved paths looped between the trees. Lanterns, benches. There weren't many people. We were silently enjoying the nature and silence. Suddenly, he saw a group of guys standing near a bench and became visibly animated. "Wow, what a reunion. Would you like me to introduce you to my friends? - Zimin asked. "I don't want!" - I bristled like a hedgehog, looking at the strangers incredulously. "Oh, come on. They're good guys," Alexander assured me. "Uh-huh. Just like you," I said, mentally adding, "maniac". A group of guys, fashionably dressed, all athletic, photomodel-looking, about the same age as me, maybe a little older. They noticed us and called out to Alexander. "Don't be afraid," Alexander said, taking my hand and leading me behind him. As soon as we got closer to them, another shock awaited me. I stood staring at them like a fool, repeating to myself: "No, that's not how it works." A blue-eyed brunette with a short, military-style haircut. A gray-eyed dark blond with hair just below his shoulders, gathered at the temples with an elastic band. A brown-eyed brown-haired man with long, below shoulder blades, hair pulled back into a ponytail. A green-eyed man with ashy hair and a short hairstyle reminiscent of Alexander's. It was them, my elves, my drow. I looked at them, and I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. I wanted to hug them, to make sure they weren't dreaming. "Perhaps we should introduce ourselves, because I see that the girl is quite confused," the brunet said. - "My name is Sergei." "Shargos," my mind raced. "Andrei," the dark blond introduced himself. "Antri," I remembered. "Nikolai," the brown-haired man called himself. "Kalanas," I thought with a smile. "Victor," the ash-haired man said. "Viktar," his name remained almost unchanged. I felt my legs go wobbly from the overload of sensation, my body slumping sideways and my consciousness slipping away. A man's strong arms picked me up. "Varvara! Varya, what's wrong with you? - I heard Alexander's anxious voice through the oblivion. No Alakzar. "So much for the happy meeting," Victor said with annoyance. "If this is a dream again, I don't want to wake up ever," was my last thought. "Varvara - Vaerville."