Strange Creatures Corporation 2.0

Once upon a time there was a wonderful kingdom where roosters crowed in English and cows were treated to strawberry milk, a nice fellow Christopher. He was a hero by force, but the trouble is — he didn't have a penny of fame, and there was no money in his wallet! And around the noble knights and daring ones, they will send a dragon to a barbecue, then they will rescue the princess from the clutches of Koshchei, then they build gingerbread castles — a sight to behold! Fame is, you see, a straight path to wealth, and wealth, you know, is a necessary thing! Our Christopher was lying on a fragrant hayloft, dreaming: "Oh, I would be famous somehow, so that my relatives would be proud, and I would bathe in gold!" The chickens cackle around, strawberry milk flows like a river, and the cows moo - either they dream of juicy grass, or they laugh at Christopher. Suddenly— BANG! — the barn doors open with a bang, and his mother enters — a stately woman, with a smile from ear to ear, and freckles on her cheeks, like poppy seeds scattered. — Get up, Sonya! Her voice is as clear as a crystal bell. — The sun is already baking pancakes, and you're sleeping like a groundhog after hibernation! Christopher, groaning, slid down from the hayloft like a sack of potatoes. "Oh, Mother, we'll never see fame or fortune," he sighs. — Maybe I should become a knight? You see, luck will grab you by the beard! My mother, hearing this, roared with laughter. The chickens in the yard stopped laying eggs in surprise, froze with their beaks open, like feathered sculptures. — To be a knight?! — she barely uttered, wiping away tears of laughter. "You don't know how to swing a sword, son!" You can't break off bread from a loaf exactly, what kind of dragon heads to chop off here! — I'll learn! Christopher stubbornly declared, puffed out his chest like a wheel, and himself, like a rooster before a fight, clucked. — The strength in me is heroic, my health is like a bear's! I'm ridiculous, but yes, well! We will cope with the absurdity! — With absurdity— that's for sure, — my mother finally caught her breath, a smile on her face shines like the sun after rain. "But strength isn't everything, son. The knight is strong in mind and luck. And luck is a capricious girl, she still needs to be caught! — And how to catch her? Christopher's eyes lit up like coals in a bonfire. "And this, my son, is a completely different fairy tale," my mother smiled mysteriously. — A fairy tale that awaits you. She winked cunningly and, humming a cheerful song about strawberry milk, left the barn. Christopher, left alone, looked at the sunbeams that danced on the walls, and felt hope blossom in his chest like a magical flower. And really, what if he becomes a hero? Even if it's a little ridiculous. In this world where strawberry milk flows from under a cow, anything is possible! Christopher jumped out of the barn like a horse out of a stable. Lo and behold, a crowd of guys gathered in front of him, ridiculous, like clowns at a performance! One is crooked, another is fat, the third is thin as a straw! And everyone, as if fascinated, looks at the ad, pinned to the oak tree. The letters on it are crooked, as if a caterpillar had brought them out, and a peasant is standing next to him, scratching his beard, his face is ruddy, like a pancake with raspberries. "Knighthood selection!" the announcement reads. "The reward is glorious—glory, a bag of gold, and a princess with a swamp castle to boot!" "A castle in a swamp?" Christopher wrinkled his nose. Something is wrong here, but the excitement has already surged in him, hot as a dragon's fire. He pushed through the crowd without hesitation, like a bear through a raspberry patch, and stopped in front of the peasant. "What, boy, do you want to become a knight?" he grinned, squinting. - "I mean, I'm strong, but aren't my brains rusty?" Christopher stuck out his chest like a wheel, proud as a rooster on a fence. "Strong as a bull! And with the brains... we'll figure out the brains!" he said with such confidence that the peasant even dropped his hat from his head. "We'll figure it out, we'll figure it out..." the peasant muttered, picking up his hat. "Let's see how ridiculous you are." He waved his hand, inviting Christopher to follow. He did not hesitate to step towards his ridiculous fate, but incredible adventures. "Knighthood selection!" the announcement reads. — "The reward is glorious - glory, gold, and a beautiful princess with a castle in the swamp to boot!" "A castle in a swamp?" Christopher wrinkled his forehead. Something is wrong here, but the excitement, hot as a dragon's fire, has already captured him. He pushed his way through the crowd without hesitation and stopped in front of the peasant. "What, kid, are you aiming for a knight?" he grinned, squinting. - "You have the strength, but you have the mind? Won't you give up?" Christopher stuck out his chest like a rooster in front of a chicken. "Strong as a bull! And with the mind... we'll figure it out!" he said with incredible confidence. "We'll figure it out, we'll figure it out..." the peasant muttered, beaming with a sly smile. — "Let's see how ridiculous you are." He waved his hand, inviting Christopher to follow. The latter, without hesitation, stepped towards his ridiculous fate. They stumbled into a bar — dark as a dragon cave, and the sign above it was crooked, as if a drunken artist had painted it. The dragon was barely visible on it, holding either a mug or a barrel of strawberry milk in its paw. Behind the counter, a bartender with a beard like a witch's broom, frowning like an owl, rubbed glasses, as if whispering spells over them. —Well, Yaropolk,— he boomed, glancing at the peasant who had brought Christopher. His voice was like stone knocking on stone. — Who did you bring? Yaropolk, a cunning little man, like an old fox, perched at the counter. — Yes, — he nods at Christopher, — he's a nice strong man, he wants to become a knight. The bartender, his name was Kinder, although there was kindness in him — the cat cried a little, looked at Christopher with a picky look. — To be a knight? He grinned, shaking his beard. — And what are you famous for, strong man? Have you mastered the dragon? Did you get the princess out of trouble? Or maybe he told a funny story? Christopher froze like an ancient oak tree, lost his words. — Yes, I... it's… I'm strong! — he blurted out, his chest sticking out like a wheel. — And I can learn everything! Dobrynya burst out laughing like thunder, the bottles on the shelves rattled. Strong, you say? Come on, show me! He nodded at the beer barrel, huge as a dwarf's house. "Take her over there to the table." Christopher, without hesitation, jumped up to the barrel and wrapped his huge arms around it. I tensed up, puffed, and... lifted the barrel like a piece of fluff! The bartender's eyes widened. — He muttered. — Your strength, boy, is really heroic! But what about the mind? — We'll work wisely, Dobrynya, — Yaropolk intervened, winking at the bartender. "He's a fast learner, kid. Most importantly, teach him everything that a knight is supposed to do. And then, you see, fame will come to him, and money! Dobrynya scratched his beard, thinking. —Okay,— he said finally. — Let's see what happens to you, strong man. But keep in mind, learning is not an easy task. Sweat and tears are provided for you! And I won't pour beer for free! Christopher shone like the sun was bright. "Here it is, the beginning of my knightly career!" he thought, straightening up proudly. And he did not know then how many adventures and dangers await him on this path. But that, as they say, is a completely different story.… — Your first test, Christopher! Dobrynya solemnly proclaimed, straightening his beard. — Find us a miraculous mushroom in the bar, with a film like a dragon's egg! It grows behind Carter City Castle, a difficult place, full of dangers. "A mushroom with a film, like a dragon's egg..." Christopher stared. What kind of a curiosity is this? But the excitement of chivalry has already risen in him. "Don't be afraid, Dobrynya," he replied, banging his fist on his chest. — I'll find your mushroom! Even in the fire of the dragon you will have to look for him! And Christopher went in search of the miraculous mushroom, not knowing what awaits him behind Carter City Castle. Christopher went out through the gates of Carter City, and there was a dense forest, like a goblin's beard. The trees are centuries old, their branches are pulling towards the sky, and under them the shadows are moving, as if forest spirits are dancing. "What a place," Christopher thought, "where can I find a dragon mushroom here? No other way than a magic compass is needed!" Suddenly, he hears a rustle behind him. I turned around and there was a squirrel sitting, fluffy, with cunning eyes like beads. — What do you want, strong man? — she squeaked, turning the nut in her paws. — Yes, I'm looking for a mushroom, — Christopher scratched his head in embarrassment. — With a film like a dragon's egg. Haven't you seen this? The squirrel burst out laughing, almost fell off the branch. — Dragon mushroom? — she squeaked, wiping away tears of laughter. — Yes, you are absolutely ridiculous, boy! There are no dragon mushrooms here! It's the bartender, Dobrynya, who played a joke on you! I sent you in search of the unseen to laugh! Christopher was taken aback. "Did Dobrynya cheat? He thought. — And I, the fool, believed it! " "Why is he laughing at me?" — he asked the squirrel with resentment in his voice. — Is he a knight or a buffoon? — Dobrynya? The squirrel squinted slyly. "He doesn't know who he is, son. He thinks of himself as a knight, then as a bartender, then as a forest goblin. His character is like the weather in April — you can't guess! "What am I supposed to do now?" Christopher asked, completely at a loss. "We can't go back to the bar empty—handed, can we?" — And you don't come back, — the squirrel jumped off the branch and ran up to Christopher. — I'll show you the way. Not to the dragon mushroom, of course, but to the one cherished place. They say there is a magic well there. Any wish will be fulfilled, but you need to make a wish correctly. Christopher's eyes widened. "The magic well? He thought. — Wow, that's right! What if he helps me become a knight?" "Lead the way, squirrel," he said with determination in his voice. — I'm not afraid of any dangers! And luck... luck will find me! And they went into the woods, Christopher and fluffy squirrel, to meet adventures and, who knows, maybe even magic. They made their way through a dense thicket, branches whipped at their faces, driftwood got in the way. Christopher, like a clumsy bear, sometimes stumbles, then bumps his head against a branch. A squirrel, nimble as a shadow, jumps between the trees, and shows the way. —Look, strong man,— she squeaked, stopping at a huge oak tree like a forest giant. — Here it is, the magic well. Just be careful, he doesn't fulfill every wish. Christopher went to the well and looked inside. And there the water is dark, like ink, and his reflection floats, distorted, as if in a crooked mirror. — Well, what should I wish for? He muttered, scratching his head. — Become a knight? Or the king at once? — Take your time, strong man, — the squirrel jumped on his shoulder. — First we need to talk to the well. She respects politeness, you know, and magic. — And how to talk to him? Christopher raised his eyebrows in surprise. "He's... a well!" — And you try it, — the squirrel smiled cunningly. — What if he answers you? Christopher, without hesitation, bent over the well and shouted: — Hey, the well! Are you there? Can you fulfill my wish? Silence. Only the echo of his voice was lost in the depths of the well. — Well, that's it, — Christopher was upset. — Your magic doesn't work, squirrel! — Wait, strong man, — the squirrel wiggled his ear. — Do you hear? Christopher listened. Indeed, there was a barely perceptible rustle from the depths of the well, as if someone was whispering. — Who are you? Christopher asked cautiously, leaning over the well. "I am the spirit of this well," replied a voice, muffled and mysterious. — Who are you, and what do you want from me? —My name is Christopher,— Christopher replied, trying to sound as polite as possible. — And I want to... become a knight! Glorious and daring! To defeat enemies, save princesses, and find treasures! The spirit of the well chuckled. "A knight, you say?" — He whispered. "Do you know what it takes, Christopher?" — Strength, courage, intelligence and luck! Christopher blurted out, remembering his mother's words. —That's right,— the spirit agreed. — But there is one more thing, without which a knight is not a knight. — And what is it? Christopher held his breath. — The heart. The spirit whispered. — A kind, brave, loving heart. Do you have it, Christopher? Christopher thought about it. "The heart? He thought. "What's so special about him?" Well, it beats, the blood pumps… So what?" "I don't know,— Christopher said honestly. — How can I check it? "That's what you're going to find out, Christopher," the spirit replied. — Go, your fate awaits you. And remember: sometimes the most important answers are not outside, but inside. The voice of the spirit faded away, and Christopher, feeling slightly dizzy, walked away from the well. "The heart?" he repeated to himself. "What are you?" He looked around. The forest is dense, as if it keeps some kind of secret. Where should I go now? And how to find your heart? Christopher didn't know the answers to these questions. All he knew was that his journey was just beginning. Christopher wandered through the forest, breaking his rebellious head: "Heart, you say? And how can I find him?" Suddenly, he hears a girl's cry, thin, like the squeak of a mosquito. I looked around — and there was a girl sitting under a bush, a painted beauty, a golden braid hanging to the ground, and tears were pouring down. — What happened, red girl? Christopher asks, coming closer. — Who offended you? —Oh, good fellow," the girl sobs, "I'm in great trouble! The accursed Serpent Gorynych has kidnapped my sister! He took his dark one to the cave, and keeps him captive there! — Serpent Gorynych? Christopher whistled. — Well, well! And I was looking for some kind of mushroom! Oh, I was not! I'm going to get your sister out! Just show me the way! The girl, hearing this, widened her eyes in surprise. — You? — She whispered. "You're not... a knight!" — I'll be a knight! Christopher declared, his chest sticking out like a wheel. — As soon as I save your sister, they will dedicate her at once! Lead me, don't tom me! The girl, looking at him, smiled. And the guy is not as simple as he seems, she thought. And she led him along a secret path to the lair of the Serpent Gorynych. They walked, then, whether for a long time or for a short time, the fairy tale is silent about this. The forest thickened, the shadows lengthened, and the air became heavy, as if saturated with the smell of sulfur. Suddenly the girl stopped. "Here," she whispered, pointing to a dark hole in the rock. — Here is the cave of the Serpent Gorynych. Be careful, well done. He is a terrible monster, but cunning! Christopher sighed and adjusted the belt on which hung a wooden sword — a gift from his father on his name day. — I'm not afraid of him! — he declared with confidence, which, to be honest, he did not have at all. — Silenka bogatyrskaya will help me out! And with these words, he stepped into the cave, leaving the girl alone at the entrance. The cave was dark and damp, like an ogre's mouth. It smelled of mold and something else unpleasant, like rotten eggs. Christopher moved forward, squinting, feeling the walls carefully. Suddenly he hears a hissing, ominous, as if a kettle on the fire has boiled. He quickened his pace, holding his wooden sword at the ready. And finally, I got to the very heart of the cave. And there lies the Serpent Gorynych, a terrible monster! He has three heads, each breathing fire, scales green like swamp moss, and a long tail like a giant snake. And next to it, in a rusty cage, a girl is sitting, crying, an incomparable beauty. — Yeah, I got you, hero! — hissed one of the heads of the Gorynych Snake. — Did you come to rescue your sister? Ha! I'm going to turn you into ashes! — I'm not afraid of you, you damned monster! Christopher shouted, raising his sword. — Let go of your sister, or it will be bad for you! — Am I feeling bad? Serpent Gorynych laughed, and all three of his heads shook. — Yes, look at yourself! The wooden knight! Your sword is a child's toy! What are you going to do to me? — But you'll see! Christopher shouted and rushed at Snake Gorynych, brandishing his sword. An unprecedented battle ensued! Christopher, although he did not know how to wield a sword, but the mighty strength helped him. He hacked, stabbed, dodged the fiery jets that Gorynych the Snake spewed. However, he looked more like a clumsy woodcutter than a valiant knight. Serpent Gorynych, although he was formidable and fire-breathing, but he did not expect such insolence from Christopher. He was angry, growling, beating his huge tail, trying to swat Christopher like an annoying fly. — Well, wait a minute, hero! — He hissed. "I'm going to roast you so hard that there won't even be any bones left!" — Let's see who roasts whom! Christopher replied, not giving in to his insolence. And suddenly, he sees that Gorynych's Snake has a sick tail, covered with boils. "Yeah,— Christopher thought, "that's your weakness, monster!" He took aim and hit the tail with his sword with all his might. Serpent Gorynych screamed so that stones fell from the ceiling. — Oh, oh, oh! "Stop it!" he yelled. — My tail, my tail! I'm dying! Have mercy! And he collapsed to the ground as if a mountain had collapsed. Christopher ran up to the cage where the girl was sitting and smashed her with one blow of his sword. — You're free, beautiful! — He said, gallantly extending his hand to her. The girl got out of the cage and hugged Christopher. — Thank you, good fellow! — She said. "You saved me from a monster!" Now let's run away before he wakes up! And they rushed out of the cave like the wind, leaving behind the defeated Serpent Gorynych. They jumped out of the cave, and there — miracles and nothing more! The sky shimmers like a rainbow, birds sing songs in three voices, and flowers bloom underfoot — of unprecedented beauty! "Wow! Christopher thought. — No other way than magic is happening here!" — Thank you, well done, — said the girl, smiling. — By the way, my name is Lyubava. And what should I call you? —Christopher,— he replied, scratching his head in embarrassment. — Only I'm not a knight yet, but just... a knight's apprentice. "It doesn't matter," Lubava waved her hand. — The main thing is that you had a kind heart, and you saved my sister. And you'll be knighted in no time! Come quickly to my castle, my father, the king, will reward you according to your merits! And she led him through a magical forest, where the trees bowed to them, as if greeting heroes, and the forest animals ran out onto the path to admire the savior of Lyubava. So they went out into the clearing, and there the castle stands, as if from a fairy tale! The walls are white, the towers are high, and the garden is blooming around, the fragrance stands as if in a garden of eden. Lyubava led them to the gate, and there the guards stood, brave heroes in shining armor. — Open up! Lyubava shouted. — This is Christopher, our hero! I defeated the snake of Gorynych, I rescued my sister from captivity! The guards opened the gate, and they let Christopher into the castle. And there is a feast of the mountain! The tables are bursting with dishes from overseas, wine flows like a river, and the musicians play so that their feet dance by themselves. The King, Lubava's father, greeted Christopher with honors. — Welcome, hero! He exclaimed, hugging Christopher. — I've heard about your feat! You deserve the highest reward! And he ordered Christopher to bring a golden cup full of sparkling wine, and a bag of gold coins. — Drink, hero, and walk! From now on, you are the knight of our kingdom! — the king proclaimed. Christopher, not believing his luck, took the cup and took a sip of wine. And then he choked, tears sprang from his eyes. — Ugh, that's disgusting! "That's... strawberry wine!" he shouted, spitting wine on the floor. Who can drink such an abomination?! The guests froze, looking at Christopher in surprise. The King frowned. — What are you saying, hero? "What is it?" he asked sternly. — This is the best wine in my kingdom! They brought it from France itself! — France is not France, but wine is a garbage dump! Christopher said, pushing the cup away. — I'd rather drink kvass! Or strawberry milk! And then everyone understood: Christopher is not just a hero, but an unusual hero. He doesn't need overseas wines, he doesn't need royal chambers. He is a simple guy, sincere, but accustomed to his own, native. The King smiled and waved his hand. — Well, have it your way, hero! — He said. — Bring him kvass and strawberry milk! Let our knight walk as he likes! And the feast thundered with renewed vigor. Christopher, surrounded by beauties and heroes, drank kvass and ate pies with strawberry jam, telling about his adventures. And everyone listened to him with their mouths open, marveling at his strength, his courage and his... absurdity. And Christopher, looking at Lyubava, who was sitting next to him, thought: "What if this is real happiness? "Not wealth, not fame, but just being yourself, doing what you like, and having kind people around you?" And in his chest, next to his heroic strength, something new, warm and bright began to glow. Something he had never experienced before. "Maybe this is the very heart that the spirit of the well was talking about?" he thought, not daring to admit it even to himself. The feast went on as usual: the tables were bursting with viands, wines flowed like a river, music thundered, and Christopher, surrounded by attention and honors, felt over the moon with happiness. "Here it is, a knightly life! — He thought, eating a strawberry pie. — And why was I looking for some kind of mushroom? It's good here without mushrooms!" Lyubava, who was sitting next to him, smiled at him, her eyes shining like stars in the night sky. Christopher felt his heart sink as he looked at her. Did he... fall in love? Suddenly everything swam before my eyes: tables, guests, Lubava — everything turned into a multicolored mess. His head spun, his ears rang, and Christopher couldn't help falling to the floor. — What's the matter with you, Christopher? Lubava exclaimed anxiously, bending over him. But he no longer heard her. Consciousness left him, dragging him into the dark abyss of oblivion. Christopher woke up from the cold. He was lying on the ground, his face wet with dew. The leaves were rustling overhead, and the sun was shining through them. Christopher struggled up and looked around. He was in the woods. The same dense forest where the squirrel led him. Next to him stood a giant oak tree, and under it... a mushroom. The same mushroom, with a film like a dragon's egg, which he never found. — What the hell is this? Christopher muttered, feeling his head. — I was... in the castle... at a feast... with Lyubava… The memories of last night seemed like a dream to him, ridiculous and unreal. Had he dreamed all this? Christopher got up, walked over to the mushroom and gently touched it. The film was soft and elastic, like rubber. Christopher pressed his finger on it, and the mushroom made a strange sound like a sigh. "What if it's not a mushroom at all? Christopher had a thought. "And some kind of magic egg?" Maybe a dragon will hatch out of him?" He carefully picked up the mushroom and turned it over in his hands. The mushroom was heavy and warm, as if it were alive. "Well, it wasn't! Christopher decided. — I'll take it to Dobryna. Let him figure out what it is." He tucked the mushroom into his belt and headed back to Carter City. He knew the way now, and his curiosity drove him on — what would Dobrynya say when she saw such a curiosity? Christopher stumbled into the bar, and there was silence. Dobrynya, leaning on the counter, was dozing, his beard spread over his chest. — Dobrynya! Christopher barked as he entered the bar. Dobrynya shuddered, as if from an electric shock, and blinked sleepily. — Eh? What? Who's there? He muttered, rubbing his eyes. — Me, Christopher! — he proudly declared, taking a mushroom from his belt. — Here, I found your dragon mushroom! Dobrynya looked at the mushroom and his eyes popped out on his forehead. "Where... where did you get it?" — he whispered, in a voice full of horror. "In the woods, behind the castle," Christopher replied, not understanding what was so scary about it. — He was lying under an oak tree, like no one else. — You fool! Dobrynya shouted, jumping up from his chair. "It's... it's a Basilisk egg!" The most terrible monster in our kingdom! — A basilisk? Christopher turned pale. — And what is it? — This is a huge snake with a deadly look! Dobrynya shouted, clutching his head. — One look from him and you're a stone of stone! And then the mushroom began to move. The film on it burst, and the head of... no, not a dragon appeared from inside. The head of a small, green snake, with eyes burning with red fire. The basilisk hatched. And Christopher's adventure took a completely unexpected turn… The Three Barrels Bar, usually filled with the hum of conversations and the clink of mugs, froze in dead silence. All eyes were on Christopher and the little Basilisk, which, having hatched from the "mushroom", was now sitting on the counter, looking around with curiosity. Dobrynya, usually frowning and unperturbed, now looked like a terrified hamster. He was hiding behind the counter, his beard was shaking, and there was mute horror in his eyes. — Kill him! — he squeaked, in a voice as thin as a girl's. "Before he kills us all!" But no one moved. Everyone was too scared. The basilisk, although it was small, but there was a fire in its eyes that made the blood run cold. Christopher, however, was not afraid. He looked at the Basilisk with curiosity and... even with some sympathy. The little snake, to tell the truth, was quite cute. Its scales shone like an emerald in the sun, and its small paws scratched helplessly at the wooden counter. —Hi, kid,— Christopher said, holding out a finger to the Basilisk. — What's your name? The basilisk tilted its head and looked at Christopher intently with its red eyes. Then it opened its mouth and made a soft purring sound. — Vaska? Christopher smiled. — Good name! And he stroked the Basilisk's head. He squeezed his eyes shut with pleasure and pressed against Christopher's finger. — What are you doing, you fool?! Dobrynya shouted from behind the counter. — He's going to kill you! "It won't kill you,— Christopher replied calmly. — He's still a little boy. And I think he fell in love with me. — Have you fallen in love?! Dobrynya almost fainted. — You're completely crazy! It is impossible to tame a basilisk! It's a monster! It will destroy us all! —Calm down, Dobrynya,— Christopher said, removing Vaska from the counter and putting him on his shoulder. — I feel that we will become friends with him. — Will you make friends?! Dobrynya clutched at his beard, as if afraid it would fall off. — Yes, you are... you are a wizard, no other way! Christopher burst out laughing. — What kind of wizard is there! — He said. — I just believe that even the most terrible monster can be tamed if you treat it with kindness and love. He stroked Vaska's head, and he curled up on his shoulder, purring contentedly. "You're really unusual, Christopher,— Dobrynya said, looking at them in surprise. — He is famous not only for his heroic strength, but also for his kind heart. You have passed the first test, which is beyond the strength of every knight. — The first one? Christopher was surprised. — How many are there in total? —Five,— Dobrynya replied. — Five trials that will reveal to you the secrets of five types of magic that are inaccessible to ordinary mortals. But be careful, Christopher, every trial is a danger. You have to be ready for any surprises that fate throws at you. — I'm ready! Christopher declared, clenching his fist. — I'm not afraid of any dangers! I'm going to be a real knight! And Vaska will help me with this! Vaska, hearing his name, raised his head and once again licked Christopher's cheek, as if confirming his words. And together they set off towards new adventures, full of determination and ... absurdity. — So, young knight, — Dobrynya boomed, scratching his beard, — the second test awaits you! This time you have to learn the magic of... words! Christopher's eyes widened. "The magic of... words?" "What is it?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe his ears. — And what is it? Dobrynya smiled. —The magic of words,— he explained, "is the power hidden in every word, in every letter. With it, you can work miracles: heal wounds, control the elements, even look into the future! — Wow, that's right! Christopher exclaimed, a spark of excitement in his eyes. — But how can I master it? "To do this, you need to go to the Valley of Whispers," Dobrynya said, "and find an ancient scroll with runes there. They say it contains the secrets of the magic of words. But be careful, Christopher, that valley is full of dangers! There are spirits living there that feed on silence. If you can't find a common language with them, then they will take away your voice, and you will forever remain mute like a fish! Christopher, stroking Vaska, who was snuggled up on his shoulder, nodded decisively. — I'm not afraid of any spirits! — he declared with the confidence of a man who has already defeated the Serpent Gorynych once. "I'll find this scroll!" And Vaska will help me with this! Vaska, as if confirming his words, let out a soft hiss and pressed against Christopher's cheek. —Well, look at me, bogatyr," Dobrynya said, winking. — Don't let me down! Otherwise you'll have to work at my bar, carrying kegs of beer! Christopher burst out laughing and, saying goodbye to Dobryna, set off on a journey towards new adventures. The Valley of Whispers greeted Christopher with a strange silence. The trees here were twisted and ugly, as if someone had mutilated them. The leaves are covered with strange rune-like symbols. The air was heavy and humid, like in a sauna. And there was silence everywhere. An oppressive, oppressive silence that seemed to penetrate to the very depths of consciousness. — Ugh, what an abomination! Christopher muttered, feeling his neck. — It's like someone grabbed me by the throat! Vaska, feeling the tension of the owner, hissed and clung to his shoulder. "Don't be afraid, Vaska," Christopher said, stroking the baby snake. — We can handle you. We need the scroll, and we will find it! He looked around, trying to get his bearings. The valley was like a maze full of winding paths and dead ends. Where to go? Suddenly Christopher noticed something unusual. In the center of the valley, on a small hill, there was a stone. A huge, gray stone that looks like a giant's skull. The same symbols were carved on the stone as on the leaves of the trees — runes. — Look, Vaska! Christopher exclaimed. — Maybe the scroll is there? He walked towards the stone, feeling the silence grow deeper and more unbearable with each step. — Hey! Who's there? A voice suddenly rang out. It was quiet, almost inaudible, but there was a power in it that sent chills down Christopher's spine. A figure appeared from behind the stone. She was tall, thin, and dressed in a long cloak with a hood that hid her face. In his hands, the figure held a staff topped with a crystal ball flickering with purple light. "I am the Guardian of the Valley of Whispers," the voice whispered, and Christopher realized that he was facing one of those spirits that Dobrynya had warned about. "And who are you, mortal?" And why did you disturb the peace of my domain? "I'm Christopher," he replied, trying not to show his fear. "I'm looking for an ancient scroll with runes. I need to learn the magic of words. The Guardian laughed, and his laughter was like the rustle of dry leaves. — The magic of words? — He whispered. "You're a brave guy, Christopher. But know this: the magic of words — it's not a toy. It can both create and destroy. Are you ready for such a responsibility? — Ready! Christopher replied firmly, peering into the void where the Guardian's face was hiding. —All right,— the Keeper whispered. "Then I'll give you a chance." But first you have to pass my test. — What kind of test? Christopher asked, holding his breath. "You must guess my riddle,— the Guardian replied. — A riddle that will test your wits and... your heart. — I'm ready! Christopher said again. — Ask your riddle! "Listen carefully,— the Guardian whispered.

"I am the beginning and the end,

I am silence and sound,

I am emptiness and fullness,

I am a lie and the truth.

Who am I?"

Christopher frowned, trying to make sense of the Keeper's words. The mystery was strange and confusing, like a tangle of threads. —Well, Christopher,— the Keeper whispered. — What is your answer? Christopher sighed and looked at Vaska, as if looking for support. The snake, sensing his confusion, rubbed its head against his cheek. "I don't know,— Christopher said honestly. — Your riddle is too complicated for me. "Don't despair," the Guardian whispered. — Sometimes the simplest answers are hidden under your very nose. Think again. Christopher closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. The Guardian's words were spinning in his head like a whirlwind. "The beginning and the end... silence and sound... emptiness and fullness... lies and truth… Who am I?" And suddenly it dawned on him. — I know! — he exclaimed, opening his eyes. — You are the word! The Guardian smiled. It was the first time Christopher had seen his face. It was beautiful and noble, like an elven prince's. —That's right, Christopher,— he whispered. — You've solved my riddle. You deserve to know the magic of words. He handed Christopher the scroll that was lying on the stone. "Take it,— the Keeper said. "You'll find everything you need to know in it." But remember: the power of words is a weapon. Use it wisely. Christopher took the scroll reverently. He could feel warmth and strength radiating from him. He bowed to the Keeper. —Thank you," he said. — I won't let you down. The Guardian nodded and disappeared as if he had disappeared into thin air. And Christopher, clutching an ancient scroll in his hands, felt his life begin to change. He was still ridiculous, but now there was a power awakened in him that he hadn't felt before. The power of words. And he knew that this was just the beginning of his journey. Christopher looked at the scroll presented by the Keeper with awe. The runes written on thin parchment seemed to dance in front of my eyes, shimmering with silver light. Vaska, curled up on his shoulder, also looked curiously at the scroll, occasionally twitching his forked tongue. — Well, Vaska, it seems that we were lucky! Christopher said, smiling. — Now we will definitely become real wizards! He unfolded the scroll and began to read. The letters were unfamiliar, but Christopher, as if by intuition, understood their meaning. The scroll told about the secrets of the magic of words, how they can be used to control the elements, heal wounds, even change reality. Christopher read with bated breath, and with every word he grew more confident that he was on the right track. "Listen, Vaska,— he said, looking up from the scroll. — It says here that in order to master the magic of words, you need to cast a special spell. Do you want to try it? Vaska, as if understanding him, nodded his head and let out a quiet hiss. - great! Christopher exclaimed. — Then repeat after me! And he began to chant, carefully peering at the runes on the scroll. The words were ancient and powerful, and the air around them vibrated as if filled with invisible energy.

"The power of the word, wake up,

My heart has responded!

Give me power over the language,

To work wonders all around!

Christopher finished reciting the spell and froze, waiting for something unusual. But nothing happened. Silence. — Well, that's it, — Christopher was upset. "Your magic doesn't work, scroll!" Suddenly, he felt something tickling his neck. He turned his head and saw that Vaska was laughing. Yes, yes, he's laughing! His small mouth was open in a wide smile, and his eyes, burning with red fire, sparkled with fun. — What are you laughing at, Vaska? Christopher asked, not understanding what was funny. And then Vaska started talking. — Christopher, you're a fool! — He said in a voice as thin and ringing as a bell. "You read the spell wrong!" It was necessary not to read, but to sing! Christopher was taken aback. — Sing? "What is it?" he asked. — And what song? — Any one! Vaska replied. — The main thing is to heartily! Christopher thought about it. He didn't really like to sing, and his voice wasn't great either. But since Vaska said so, it means we have to try. He took a deep breath and began to sing. The first song that came to his mind. It was an old beer song that he had often heard from Dobrynya.

"Three barrels of beer,

Three funny dwarfs,

Drinking and dancing in the bar,

They don't care about all the laws!"

Christopher sang without sparing his throat, and Vaska sang along to him, hissing merrily. And then the magic began. The trees around them stirred, their twisted branches straightened, the leaves came to life, playing with bright colors. The air was filled with the scent of flowers, and the silence receded, replaced by the singing of birds and the murmur of a stream. — It worked! Christopher exclaimed in disbelief. — The Valley of Whispers has come to life! — Of course it worked! Vaska said, proudly straightening up on his shoulder. — I told you you could do it! You've mastered the magic of words, Christopher! Now you are a real wizard! Christopher was happy. He hugged Vaska and spun him in the air. — Thank you, Vaska! — He said. — You are my best friend! And together they went on, towards new adventures, full of joy, enthusiasm and ... of course, absurdity! The Valley of Whispers was left behind like an unpleasant dream, and Christopher, proudly walking along the forest path, felt almost like a real wizard. Vaska, who was sitting on his shoulder, listened with pleasure as Christopher practiced, pronouncing various spells. However, these spells so far looked more like tongue twisters than magic formulas. "Six silkworms spin silk..." Christopher muttered, trying not to lose his way. — "Thirty-three ships tacked, tacked, but did not sail..." — Christopher, what are you doing? Vaska asked, tilting his head. — I'm training, of course! Christopher replied. — Dobrynya said that the magic of words is not easy to master. You need to practice all the time! — Did you know that with the help of the magic of words, you can not only create miracles, but also save princesses? Vaska said, narrowing his eyes slyly. — Princesses? Christopher was interested. — And who should we save them from? — From the evil dragon, of course! Vaska replied. — There is a dragon in the neighboring kingdom, a terrible and fire-breathing dragon who kidnapped a beautiful princess and holds her captive in his castle on the top of the mountain. No one can free her, all the knights are afraid of the dragon! — And I'm not afraid! Christopher declared, a fire of chivalrous excitement ignited in his chest. — I'm going to save the princess! Just help me, Vaska. You know the magic of words better than me! — I will help, of course! Vaska nodded. — I have a hundred ways to save the princess from the evil dragon! Choose any one! And he began to list:

01. Talk the Dragon to death: Use the magic of words to bombard the dragon with boring stories, confusing riddles or endless compliments to his scales.

02. Rename the dragon into a fluffy kitten: Change the essence of the dragon using the magic of words, turning it into a cute and harmless creature.

03. Create the illusion of a giant pie: Trick the dragon into believing that the princess is the filling for a delicious pie.

04. Teach the princess to breathe fire: Make the princess as dangerous as a dragon so that she can protect herself.

05. Make the dragon fall in love with his own reflection: Use the magic of words and a mirror so that the dragon gets carried away with himself and forgets about the princess.

06. Teleport a dragon to a desert island: Send the dragon away by using the magic word "Abracadabra!" and pointing to a point on the map.

07. Grow a giant mountain of treasures for the dragon: Distract the dragon from the princess by giving him what he really loves — gold and jewelry.

08. Arrange a date for the dragon with a beautiful dragoness: Find a couple for the dragon so that he stops being bored and lets the princess go.

09. Hypnotize the dragon with a magic pendulum: Put the dragon to sleep using a shiny object and monotonous spells.

10. Replace the princess with an inflatable doll: Deceive the dragon by giving him a fake, and in the meantime take the real princess away.

... and so on, up to the hundredth method.

Christopher, listening to Vaska, was simply amazed. — Vaska, you're a genius! He exclaimed. — So many ideas! And what is the best way? — The best way, Christopher, — said Vaska, smiling slyly, — is the one that you will come up with yourself! After all, you're a wizard! And your imagination is your main tool! Christopher thought about it. "Come up with a way yourself? It flashed through his mind. "What if I can't do it?" But the fire of creativity was already burning in his eyes. He felt something new awakening in him, something unusual. Something that can change not only his life, but the lives of everyone around him. — Vaska, let's go to the library! — Suddenly he said, jumping to his feet. — I need to read about dragons! And about the princesses! And about magic! And about everything in the world! Vaska, pleased with his enthusiasm, nodded his head. — Come on, Christopher! — He said. — It's never too late to learn! And who knows, maybe you will come up with the one hundred and first way to save the princess from the evil dragon! And they went to the library together, full of hopes, ideas and ... as always, absurdity. The library of the kingdom greeted Christopher and Vaska with the smell of old paper and silence, broken only by the creaking of pens and the rustle of turning pages. The visitors, mostly gray-haired elders and young students, sat at tables, deep in reading thick folios. —Hush, Vaska,— Christopher whispered, looking around. — You can't make any noise here. People comprehend knowledge, and you interfere with them with your hissing. —Okay, okay," Vaska replied in a whisper, settling himself comfortably on Christopher's shoulder. — Just find a book about dragons as soon as possible, otherwise I'm already bored! Christopher nodded and headed for the bookshelves. There were a great many of them here — in all languages of the world, on all topics. Christopher saw books on history, geography, mathematics, astronomy, magic... his eyes ran away from such a variety. — How do we find the right book? — he asked Vaska. — There's a whole forest of books here! "Ask the librarian,— Vaska prompted. — He knows everything here! Christopher looked around and saw an old man with glasses sitting at a table by the window. The old man was thin and tall, with a long gray beard that almost reached the floor. He was reading a book, frowning and moving his lips. —I'm sorry,— Christopher said, coming up to him. — I need a book about dragons. Can you tell me where to find her? The old man raised his head and looked at Christopher over the top of his glasses. His eyes were piercing, as if he could see right through Christopher. "Books about dragons?" He rasped in a voice as hoarse as an old crow's. — Why do you need them? Do you want to learn how to kill them? — No, not at all! Christopher exclaimed. "I want to learn how to... tame them!" The old man raised his eyebrows in surprise. — Tame? "What is it?" he asked. — But it's impossible! Dragons are wild and dangerous creatures! They cannot be tamed! — And I'll try! Christopher said stubbornly. — I need to save the princess from the evil dragon, and I think I can do it if I make friends with him! The old man was silent for a long time, looking at Christopher with his piercing eyes. Then he sighed. —Okay,— he said. "If that's what you've decided, then I'll help you." Follow me. He stood up and led Christopher to the back of the library. They walked past many shelves of books until they stopped in front of a massive iron-clad door. There was a symbol carved on the door — a dragon surrounded by flames. "The rarest and most dangerous books are kept here," the old man said. — Books that are not for everyone. But you seem to be special. I'll give you the key. But remember: knowledge is power, but also a huge responsibility. Use them wisely, Christopher. The old man took out a small key made of silver from his pocket and handed it to Christopher. — Thank you! Christopher exclaimed, taking the key. — I won't let you down! He inserted the key into the lock and turned it. The door creaked open, and Christopher, along with Vaska, stepped inside. The room was small and dark, lit only by a single lamp hanging from the ceiling. There was a table in the center of the room with a single book on it. It was thick and heavy, upholstered in black leather, and on its cover was stamped the same symbol as on the door — a dragon surrounded by flames. Christopher, feeling awed, went to the table and carefully opened the book. "100 ways to train a dragon," read the inscription on the first page. Christopher smiled. "This is it, what I need!" he thought and began to read. The book was written in an ancient language, but Christopher, as if by magic, understood every word. He read about the different types of dragons, their habits, their weaknesses, how to approach them, how to gain their trust, how to become their friend. Time flew by imperceptibly. Christopher read, forgetting about everything in the world. Vaska, sitting on his lap, also listened with interest, occasionally twitching his tongue and making a quiet hiss. —Christopher," Vaska said suddenly. "Did you know that dragons like riddles?" Christopher looked up from his book. — Riddles? "What is it?" he asked. — Why do they need riddles? — Well, they're smart! Vaska replied. — They like to think, solve mysteries. And if you tell the dragon a riddle and he guesses it, then he will be grateful to you! — Wow, that's right! Christopher exclaimed. — Wow, I never would have thought! Do you know any riddles? — Of course I know! Vaska answered proudly. — I'm a Basilisk! And we Basilisks know all the riddles in the world! And he began to ask Christopher riddles, one by one. Christopher, although he was not good at solving riddles, he tried his best. He wanted to be liked Vaska and be worthy of the title of wizard. Time flew by imperceptibly, and they did not notice how night had fallen. The moon peered through the library window, illuminating the room with a silvery light. Christopher closed the book and stretched. "Well, Vaska, it seems it's time to go to bed,— he said. — Tomorrow we will have new adventures. —Yes, Christopher,— Vaska agreed. — Good night. And they settled down on the floor near the table and fell asleep. Christopher had dreams full of dragons, princesses, and magic. And in these dreams, he was no longer a ridiculous student, but a real knight-wizard, ready for any feats. The sun's rays, breaking through the narrow windows of the library, woke Christopher up. He stretched, yawned sweetly, and felt Vaska, snuggled up on his chest, hissing in displeasure. —Christopher, just a little more...— whispered Vaska, burying his muzzle in his neck. — Let me sleep... dragons, you know, like to soak up the warmth for a while. "I'm sorry, Vaska," Christopher said, carefully shifting the snake onto the table. — But we have to go. The princess can't save herself! Remembering his mission, Christopher quickly jumped to his feet as if he had been stung by a bee. He reverently packed "100 ways to train a dragon" into his backpack, said goodbye to the dozing librarian and, together with Vaska, went outside. Carter City was bathed in the morning sun. People hurried about their business, merchants touted their wares, and the air was filled with the aroma of fresh pastries and strawberry milk. Christopher took a deep breath and smiled. — Well, Vaska, where are we going? "What is it?" he asked, looking at the snake. — To the neighboring kingdom, of course! Vaska replied. — Where the evil dragon lives! "How are we going to get there?" Christopher asked. "On foot?" — Oh, come on! Vaska laughed. — We're going to fly on my friend! And he whistled. Christopher looked around in surprise and saw... a giant boa constrictor. He was lying on the roof of a neighboring house, basking in the sun, and, hearing Vaska's whistle, lazily slid to the ground. "Meet Christopher, this is Udovich the Boa Constrictor,— Vaska said, slapping the snake's tail. — He is my best friend and the fastest transport in our kingdom! —Hello, Udav Udovich,— Christopher said, holding out his hand uncertainly. — Nice to meet you. The boa constrictor opened its mouth, showed a row of sharp teeth, and made a soft whistling sound, which probably meant a greeting. "Don't be afraid, Christopher," Vaska said. — The boa constrictor does not bite. He's kind. Just a little... hungry. — Hungry? Christopher recoiled in fright. "Don't worry," Vaska reassured him. — I already fed him this morning. He ate a whole cow. — A whole cow?! Christopher's eyes widened. "Where did you get it?" — Well, — Vaska scratched his head in embarrassment. — I took it where they give it... strawberry milk will be an extra week now! Christopher shook his head. "You'll never get bored with this Vaska," he thought. — Well, did you fly? Vaska asked, climbing onto the back of Udovich's Boa Constrictor. Christopher nodded and, with some trepidation, followed him. The boa constrictor, uttering a satisfied hiss, soared into the air. The flight was unforgettable. The wind whistled in my ears, the sun blinded my eyes, and the earth below seemed like a patchwork quilt made of forests, fields, rivers and villages. Christopher, clinging to the scales of Udovich's Boa Constrictor, looked around with delight, forgetting all his fears. — What a beauty! — He shouted over the wind. — I've never seen anything like it! "There's a lot you haven't seen yet, Christopher!" Vaska replied, smiling. — The world is huge and full of wonders! And they flew on, towards their fate. The wind whistled in his ears, the sun burned mercilessly, and the Boa Constrictor Udovich, like a living airplane, rushed Christopher and Vaska to the goal. Forests, rivers, and cities floated by below, like toys cut out of cardboard. Christopher, clinging to the scales of the boa constrictor, admired the beauty of the world, forgetting about everything in the world. And suddenly — a flash! Images flashed before Christopher's eyes, like stills from an old, forgotten movie. He saw himself... but not as a clumsy youth, but as a mighty knight in shining armor. He stood on the battlefield, the battle raged around him, and he, as if not feeling pain and fear, chopped down enemies right and left. The voice, iron and cold, rang in my ears: "You are the best! You are invincible! You are a real knight!" And he also saw... bullying, humiliation, contemptuous glances… He was lying on the ground, covered in blood and dirt, and knights in black armor were standing over him and laughing. "You are nobody! You're nothing! You are a disgrace to chivalry!" The pictures disappeared as suddenly as they appeared, leaving behind only a headache and bewilderment. — What was that, Vaska? Christopher asked, rubbing his eyes dumbfounded. Vaska, who at that moment was enthusiastically examining the clouds floating below, as if looking for familiar figures in them, was distracted from his occupation. - what? Where? Who! — He hissed, looking around. — Attacked? A dragon? —No, not a dragon," Christopher replied. — I had some kind of visions… They're so strange... like I was already a knight.… And it's like I've been... humiliated.… Vaska frowned. — Visions? "What is it?" he asked. — It's weird.… Maybe Dobrynya did something wrong? He's a sorcerer, after all! — Or maybe it's just a dream? Christopher suggested. "Maybe,— Vaska agreed. — But it still needs to be checked. When we get back to Carter City, we'll ask Dobrynya what it is. At that moment, the Boa Constrictor began to decline. Christopher saw a tall mountain in front of him, the top of which was buried in clouds. A narrow stone bridge stretched like a tongue from the mountain to a small area. Lava bubbled under the bridge, red-hot, and the air was filled with the smell of sulfur. On the landing, like a crow's nest, a castle stood black, surrounded by a high wall with battlements. — Here it is, the castle of the evil dragon! Vaska hissed, pointing with his paw at the building. — The princess is in there! Udav Udovich landed on the platform in front of the bridge. Christopher got off his back and stared at the scene in disbelief. — What a place! He muttered, feeling his knees tremble. — How are we going to get there? This bridge... it's going to collapse! — Don't be afraid, Christopher! Vaska said, jumping off his master's shoulder. — I have a plan! He ran to the edge of the playground and shouted: — Hey, dragon! Come out! We've come for the princess! His voice, thin and sonorous, echoed through the surroundings, reflecting off the rocks. Christopher put his hands over his ears — it seemed to him that he was deaf. — Vaska, what are you doing?! "Stop it!" he shouted as the echoes died away. — You're going to ruin us all! —Hush, hush, Christopher,— Vaska reassured him. — This is a distraction! While the dragon is figuring out who's making noise here, we'll sneak into the castle by a secret passage! — By a secret passage? Christopher raised his eyebrows in surprise. —Where is he?" Vaska smiled and pointed to a small hole hidden under the roots of an old, twisted tree growing at the very edge of the site. — Here it is, our pass to the castle! Vaska said, deftly slipping into the hole. — Come on, Christopher! Adventures await! Christopher sighed, adjusted his backpack and, crouching down, climbed after Vaska. The darkness enveloped him like a cold blanket. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but the excitement that flared up in him with renewed vigor drowned out the fear. He knew he had to save the princess. Must defeat the dragon. He has to prove to everyone that he is a real knight. Well, it means that Christopher and Vaska are making their way through this hole, that the gut of a giant earthworm is winding, cramped, dusty! Christopher will hit his head on the ceiling, then stumble with his foot on a stone. The torch in his hand is trembling, shadows are dancing on the walls, and Vaska, a kind of weasel, is yelling next to him, encouraging: — Don't be a coward, Christopher, it's getting close! You'll see the princess soon! She's a real beauty — her eyes are like violets, and her hair is like golden brown! "What if she gets scared of a Basilisk?" Christopher mutters, squinting at Vaska, who turns green in the light of the torch, like a marsh lizard. — Nah, — Vaska confidently pulls, — we are familiar with her! I somehow flew into her window to ask for strawberry jam. She's a darling, kind, she loves snakes! Christopher stumbled in surprise. — Does he love snakes? — he asks again, his eyes bulging. — Are you serious? — What jokes! Vaska hisses. — He says they are cute, funny, they have beautiful eyes! Christopher shakes his head, thinking: "What tastes the princess has! Although, in this world where cows give strawberry milk, what just does not happen!" Suddenly, bang! The tunnel ended, the iron door grew in front of them, all bolts and twisted handles. Vaska, nimble as a flea, jumped up, pulled the ring — the door creaked open, like a grumpy old woman. And behind it is a huge hall, lit by torches, and in the middle of the table is a mountain feast! And sitting at the table... a princess. Yes, not the one that Vaska described. This one is, well, let's say, for an amateur. She was thin as a pole, had a long nose, bulging eyes, jet—black hair, and warts on her face, as if toadstools had grown. — Hello, hero! — The princess says when she sees Christopher. "You've come to save me, haven't you?" And I thought no one would get there! Boredom is mortal! Christopher was stunned, his mouth opened like a fish on the shore. "Is this the same beauty that Vaska was talking about?" he thinks. "Where's the dragon?" — he finally asks, his voice trembling. "What dragon?" The princess raised her eyebrows in surprise. — Oh, you mean Vaska? So he's already gone! We had tea with him, had a strawberry jam, talked about this and that, well, he said he had to go, things were waiting for the dragon. Christopher almost fainted. — Have you had tea?! — He barely uttered. "But... but he's a feisty dragon!" You should have been held captive! — Feisty? Vaska? The princess burst out laughing, and the warts on her face began to shake. — What are you doing, man! He's a darling, a cutie, there's no kinder dragon in the whole kingdom! He was just bored by himself, so he decided to kidnap the princess and keep himself company. And he respects strawberry jam very much! Christopher's world turned upside down. Everything he believed in—knights, dragons, princesses—all lies! It's a beautiful fairy tale, but it makes zero sense! — Well, since you've come, — says the princess, — sit down, let's have dinner. I baked a strawberry pie, and I poured strawberry milk. She took Christopher's hand and sat him down at the table opposite her. He sits there, thunderstruck, looking at her. And she's... smiling. And her smile was so... real, kind, that Christopher couldn't help but smile himself. —Thanks,— he says. — With pleasure. — Eat, eat, don't be shy! — the princess fussed, puts a pie on his plate, pours milk. —And your Basilisk...— she began, but stopped, her cheeks flushed like the color of poppies. — What's Vaska? Christopher asks, grabbing a mug of milk. "He's... he's so cute..." the princess whispers, hiding her eyes. — His eyes are so... beautiful… Christopher almost choked on his milk. "Are you... are you serious?" He blurted out. The princess nods, all red as a tomato. —Yeah,— he says. — I think I fell in love with him! Christopher looked at Vaska, who was curled up asleep on his shoulder. "Here they are! — He's thinking. — So much for the evil dragon! It turns out that in order to conquer the heart of a princess, you don't have to be a knight. It's enough to be... a Basilisk!" And he laughed. From the heart, contagiously, so that the whole hall trembled. The Princess smiled at him. "I like you, Christopher,— she says. — You're unusual. And they sit, have dinner, chat about this and that, about dragons, princesses, strawberry milk — about the wonders that the world is full of. And outside the window, the stars twinkle, as if winking at them, and whisper: "The fairy tale continues ..." ...And then? Then there is emptiness. A white, silent page, like snow that fell in the middle of summer. Only the smell of burning and a thin trickle of smoke curling from the charred edge of the book remind us that the story was. That Christopher, a ridiculous knight, but pure in heart, went through all the trials that fate threw at him. That he had found not only fame and wealth, but also love and true friendship. And only the inscription, miraculously surviving on the last, burnt piece of page, like a ray of sunlight breaking through the ashes, whispers: "And they lived happily ever after..." And what happened next? The fairy tale is silent about this. But you and I, kind people, know that in a world where cows give strawberry milk and Basilisks fall in love with princesses, anything is possible!

***

Kate was not one of those who sat with folded arms, waiting for the prince on a white horse. She hated the idea of being a prisoner, like the princess from that stupid fairy tale "Knight for an Hour, or How Christopher almost became a bartender," which her grandmother read to her as a child. Tales of valiant knights fighting fire-breathing dragons seemed ridiculous and boring to her. She preferred to act rather than wait. Her red hair, always disheveled like a bonfire flame, reflected her irrepressible energy and thirst for adventure. Her eyes, the color of a summer sky, sparkled with laughter and excitement, and in every movement she felt defiance to fate, readiness to challenge any dragon, even if it was three times fire-breathing. She was more inspired by the story of a pirate named Scarlet Rose, who did not wait for salvation, but captured a ship herself, assembled a team of thugs and set off to surf the seas in search of treasures and adventures. Here is a heroine worthy of respect! Kate knew that in Carter City, this city of steel trees and electronic shadows, her own story was waiting for her, and she was ready to write it herself, without looking back at all sorts of fairy tales. "And let this damn dragon try to stop me!" she thought, clutching a laser pistol in her hand, a gift from her father for her sixteenth birthday. She knew that in this world, ridiculous and ridiculous deaths too often become reality. And she was ready to fight so that her story would not end tragically, but turn into an exciting saga full of danger, passion, and, of course, love.