The story of one sorcerer

Starry night. There were a lot of stars above the forest, they all seemed to shimmer like a bunch of scattered diamonds, they were so beautiful. The moon was a crescent and shone brightly, illuminating the entire forest and surrounding area. On the outskirts of the forest there was a clearing next to which a river that had almost turned into a swamp flowed, and around it grew reeds and grass, and several old willows that seemed to be centuries old. There were water lilies and surprisingly a few water lilies in the river. There was a wooden bridge on chains across the river, which seemed very old. In a clearing right in front of the forest stood either a house or an abandoned small medieval church with a turret. The roof on the tower was tiled and the rest was thatched and looked very old. On the first floor of the tower there was a massive oak door and on the second there were ancient Gothic windows on all four cardinal directions. The light was on in them. The light came from several wax candles in an antique metal candlestick, which stood on an equally antique oak table. The table stood at one of the windows. It was a square room on the second floor of the tower, under one window there was the above-mentioned table, under another window there was a bed made of boards, with rags and hay instead of bed linen. A red cat with a white chest was sleeping on the bed, his right ear was torn. He was sleeping peacefully. Also in the room, along the walls, there were several old wooden bookcases with the same old dusty books, and on one of the wide window sills there was a small portable spyglass. Instead of curtains, old rags hung on the windows, which apparently had not been touched for a very long time, and on one wall hung bunches of dried herbs, lavender and some other field herbs. The room itself was not entirely tidy: there was dust on the surfaces and cobwebs in the corners; whoever lived here clearly did not care about such trifles. A man came into the room: it was a hunched old man, with black shaggy hair at the edges of his head and a bald spot in the middle, he had a large nose with a hump and a little hooked, there were many wrinkles on his face and slightly saggy cheeks, and his lips were narrow due to the absence of more than half teeth. The eyes were large black and above them were the same black expressive eyebrows. The man himself was also thin, and with rather narrow shoulders, either from old age or from birth. He was dressed in a long, loose, faded black tunic, somewhat similar to a monk’s but without a belt; on the elbows and lower abdomen there were light gray patches, obviously made hastily. And on his thin legs were red medieval shoes with flat leather soles. As soon as the old man entered the room, the red cat immediately jumped out of bed, ran up to his feet and began to rub against them, purring. The old man bent down and quickly stroked the cat, simultaneously creaking back and possibly a few more shoulders. Having received the long-awaited attention, the cat lay back on the bed, considering it necessary to fall asleep with a feeling of satisfaction. The old man, on the contrary, was not going to sleep. He opened one of the drawers of the desk, taking out a thick notebook-book with a leather cover, an inkwell and a red bird pen, sat down on a creaky chair and, bending over the notebook, began to write something down.... Meanwhile, the moon was shining brightly above the house.