Andrew Ognev - The Chronicles of the Elders Malefisterium. Volume 1. The Ordeal of Freya

“Talking about the studies! What classes do you have today?” Anna looked at the boy with respect.

“Hmm…” Vlad hurried to swallow a bite. “Astronomy. We are going to learn more about the solar system.”

“I’d be glad to join,” the cook said and dabbed away tears with a handkerchief, “but I will make a sight of myself, uneducated old woman!”

They finished their meal. Father Konstantin addressed his children with words of encouragement:

“You both have things to do. Go in peace. And you, Vlad, should go to your pupils. I want to have a serious talk with you after that.”

Vlad’s heart gave a leap at these words, but he didn’t give himself away.

The small church school was attached to the church building. Vlad told the other children about the composition of the solar system in plain language he got used to. He told them about the huge and hot Sun, explained why it was shining, and what planets revolved around it. He chalked the planets as circles of different sizes and their orbits, and told a fascinating story.

“And where do we live?” the children asked him.

“It’s the third planet from the Sun,” Vlad showed them.

“Why are you saying that Jupiter is the biggest planet which is three hundred times as massive as Earth, if we can’t even see it? The Moon is small, but we can see it.”

Vlad brought the children to a hill behind the church fence.

“Can you see the hen?” he pointed at a crested hen shuffling its legs back and forth in the dust on the road.

“Yes, we can,” the children nodded.

“And can you see the cow there, on the grass beyond the river?” he looked into the distance.

“Where? Where?”

“I can see! It’s like a tiny dot!”

“What is bigger, a cow or a hen?” Vlad asked.

“Of course, a cow!”

“But you see it as a tiny dot. Do you know why?”

“Because it is far away!”

“That’s right! The same goes for Jupiter and the Moon. The Moon is right there, close to us, it goes around the Earth. And as for Jupiter, a lifetime won’t be enough to reach it, even if you go there by car.”

“And we will run out of gasoline,” the children laughed.

They were standing in circle a while longer and talking of this and that. Their classes always ended this way.

Vlad saw the children off and got back to the church. Father Konstantin walked out from the refectory to meet him and greeted him with a smile.

“Are you done?”

“Yes, father.”

“Very well,” Father Konstantin said approvingly. He drew Vlad to him and held him tight.

“There is something you want to talk about, isn’t there?” Vlad looked up.

“I have a task for you, son,” Father Konstantin was hiding his face. “We’ve got a batch of church candles, and I need you to take them to the old Fedotya. I can never understand why she needs so many.”

“She probably prays a lot,” the boy suggested.

“I wish it was true,” the priest smiled. “Vlad…” he brushed the boy aside and looked into his fair face. “When you come back from her, I won’t be here,” there was a touch of sadness in his voice.

“Are you going to the city?”

“No… it’s just something that I need to do for the church… here, in the village,” the Father assured Vlad. “The candles are on the table in the refectory.”

“I got it, father!”

“When you come back from Fedotya…”

“You won’t be here,” Vlad repeated.

“No, it’s not that… there will be a present waiting for you in the refectory.”

“A present?”

Father Konstantin gave him a warm smile.

“Happy birthday, son!”

Vlad couldn’t even say anything in reply. He just gave the priest a hug.

“There, there,” the priest pushed the boy aside somewhat nervously and hid his face again, “hurry up.”

“Alright, father. It won’t take long.”

Father Konstantin left the church without a backward glance. Vlad went to the refectory. There was a bunch of church candles on the table, just like the priest had told him.

Vlad knew the village well, so he chose the shortest way to the house of old Fedotya. On his way, he turned off into a few alleys and streets, scared off a gaggle of geese that burst out squawking and cackling in indignation. Vlad jumped over a low fence, leaving an old mongrel bewildered with his agility, and knocked on the hand-carved door.

The old lady answered the door almost immediately: She had seen the boy in the window. The boy smelled fresh baked pastries through the open door.

“Come in, honey!” old Fedotya greeted him warmly. “You are just in time, I have just milked the cow and now I am baking griddle cakes.”

The thought of cakes made Vlad’s mouth water (Fedotya’s treats were hard to resist), but he replied in a voice, crisp after the recent running:

“Thank you, but I won’t stay long.”

“Of course, you won’t,” the old lady nodded and let the boy in.

The door closed by itself.

As soon as Vlad stepped over the threshold, he got a feeling he had hopped into another dimension. The air was thick and redolent. He felt like being immersed in warm water; the warmth soaked in, relaxing his body and mind. His train of thoughts slowed down, and his brisk movements acquired smoothness. The need for haste had gone away. With the old woman, Vlad always felt like her well-behaved grandson, mesmerized by her deep throaty voice and loving kindness.

A wide reader, he always gave a good deal of thought to everything and could easily explain such transformations. No magic was involved. The wood stove in Fedotya’s house was always burning hot, even in summertime, and the windows were always closed; no wonder that the air was stuffy. As for the smells, the house was full of dry forest herbs tied in bundles hanging on the walls, fresh spruce branches and clusters of rowan berries.

“I brought you candles from Father Konstantin,” Vlad remembered the purpose of his visit.

“Oh, how nice of him!” the old woman took the candles happily. “I almost gave up thoughts of coming to see you. It’s quite a long walk for my old legs!”

“It is,” Vlad agreed.

“I can still do some chores around the house and milk the cow,” she flung her hands up and turned back to the oven. “My cakes! They are going to burn!”

Vlad helped Fedotya rescue the last of the cakes from the hot hugs of the oven. They smelled wonderful.

“Here you are!” the old woman pushed a hot griddle cake into the boy’s hand. “Go and sit at the table!”

Vlad took a bite of the cake and let out a moan of delight. It tasted even better than it smelled. He was slowly taking one bite after another, and before he knew it, the cake was gone.

“You are a magician!” he thanked the old woman ardently.

“Of course, I am!” she laughed, trying to look guileless.

“Humans can’t cook like that,” the boy reconfirmed, emphasizing every word.

“What are you trying to say?” the old woman turned sharply and fastened her eyes on his face.

“I’m not trying to say anything,” Vlad held her stare. “I’m just stating a fact.”

“So many years of practicing the magic of cooking!” the old woman began to prattle, trying to get off the slippery ground. “Anyone can become a magician after that!” she gave him a glass of freshly drawn milk and moved a plate with cakes closer to him. “Have another one!”

“I can’t stay long!” Vlad tried to refuse, unable to resist the temptation and reaching out for the plate. “Father Konstantin gave me a task.”

“I know,” the old woman nodded. “I know about the task and about many other things. Come on, eat all you can, and I’ll tell you a little tale.”