Natalie Yacobson - Bloody Dawn. Daughter of Dawn

Translator Natalia Lilienthal

© Natalie Yacobson, 2021

© Natalia Lilienthal, translation, 2021

ISBN 978-5-0055-2890-2

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

The red color seems to be a mixture of fire, poison and blood. Is wearing red a privilege? The red is color of cardinals. He noticed her, because she was in red. No, not only therefore. In fact, she was more beautiful than everything you can only imagine. But she posed a danger.

Her fast swift gait resembled a flight. A scarlet cloud around her shoulders resembled both the flame and blood. In combination with the gold curls, it just suggested the thought of the sunrise. But now was sunset.

He looked at her again. It should be like a punishing angel. In her beauty there was not the slightest hint of kindness or condescension. Light strands are more reminded of gold left in the darkness than the sun’s rays.

«Sun, gold, and a dawn which are frozen in the gold coins. Is it all not a part of one whole? Fold all together and discover from whom all this is?»

Someone said these words or did it seem? They have a hissing echo reflected from the walls, filling out all the space. The view of the stranger suddenly appealed to him. She did not open the lips, but he clearly heard a single word.

«Dennitsa!»

It echoed not from the walls, from his own heart. Nothing more frightening and attractive and imagined it was impossible.

«Dennitsa is the source of all the wonderful, which is only on the Earth.»

He was amazed

.In front of the eyes, it seemed to flash lightning, brightly illuminating evil and hypocrisy around him. He, the servant of God, the only one who is sinful here. So told her eyes. And then something flashed in them, as if the image of the unearthly battle. He saw a piece of blood-red sky between the massive columns, the supernatural creatures were fighting, they screamed and throw lightning on each other. Meanwhile, the girl approached. He did not immediately notice the dagger in her hand.

Already later, settled on the floor in the blood, he thought that he had just seen an angel. This moment turned into unbearable pain in the eyes and wound in the heart. The blade entered deep into the flesh. And all… There was no living angel near. There was a winged statue in the niche, but it was not alive. He lived until his blood was absorbed into the marble floor.

«Why every time when I close my eyes, it seems to me that you betray me, my angel…»

A beautiful statue in the niche, of course, did not answer. He always prayed to her silently. So today he did not say these words out loud, they sounded somewhere deep in the subconscious, but, as before they burned. It was true. Every time he looked at his heavenly patron, for some reason he had come to the thoughts about betrayal.

Beautiful angel affects impassively. Ferdinand always looked at her carefully, from the bottom up, with endless respect, but the heart fluttered. In front of him in the Majestic Cathedral was his only earthly love for many years. She was from stone. The statue always caused a thrill in him. Infinitely beautiful, elegant, deified. Not a young man and not a girl, but feminine it was much more than even painted the imagination. Reviving, this angel could naturally become only a girl.

Ferdinand shook his head, and blond hair slightly lasted the neck. Someone seemed to whispered him on the ears of the upcoming betrayal. What are thin annoying voices!

Obsession, so would it be called by his order. To hear the tempting voices is obsession. He is tempting by the devil. It is better not to believe him. But words in the brain have always sounded like a prophecy.

Just a few words. And they did not have anything to do with the creature which he prayed.

How can an angel betray him? Or how can he himself betray his angel?

«It’s time!» The harsh hand of the mentor laid on his shoulder. Not for the first time he shuddered from its gravity. It was time to accept the honorable purpose. This time he was chosen.. And it was an unheard honor, because the following elections will take place only after a few centuries.

Ferdinand silently nodded. He knew that it was time to go. The moment of initiation has come, but the statue as if did not let him go. He asked permission from her. He needed her blessing and, perhaps, even help. So that his hand does not flinch into a decisive moment. But it seemed to him that the angel whispered «Go! … with my curse!»

How terrifyingly calm was a voice that was echoed in his brain.

Ferdinand could not understand anything. After all, it is assigned a sacred mission. He will be the right hand of God hitting the devil. Is an angel should not encourage him?

But time has already come. It was impossible to postpone longer. Ferdinand went behind the mentor. He had to feel joy and pride, but did not experience any other. Only emptiness. The feeling that everything is already predetermined and his choice will not change anything, pressed by unbearable severity. He felt sentenced, and not chosen.

«This is an evil spirit tempting you,» said his mentor. «This is he suggests his demons to chip different tricks. So you will see the truth as in the mirror curve.»

They all had a worthy answer. The devil tempted the people of the centuries ago and continued to do it now, naturally and the answers to eternal questions remained those themselves. The religion itself was built so that it was impossible to suspect a lie. But some kind of false was. Ferdinand just could not understand what it was.

Some danger hovered inside these walls, and not from the outside. What is a pity, because he is used to that these walls have become sheltered from the wrongness of people. The outside world is full of sins, and here reigned a blessed peace. But the darkness invaded it.

The heads of the Order explained his condition by the fact that he feels the approaching only an emerging danger, with which they were obliged to fight every few centuries. Therefore, chose him. At least, so he was told. Only he suspected another.

Ferdinand was walking through long corridors and felt something like the wings. They spoke, these are pigeons nest under the roof. It was forbidden to drive them from here. White pigeons! But recently Ferdinand remarked several blacks. They looked at him for a long time, and, it seemed, their tiny red eyes silently laugh.

In any case, the birds were very small, and he heard the rustle of some huge wings. More than the wings of eagle. There were the wings with a size as a human body.

As a nobleman he himself hunted on birds with a bow and arrows. Now he was in a cassock, but the vision of hunt, still did not leave him. In these visions, he often pursued a huge bird, and shot a creature similar to a person with huge black wings. The winged creature is dead on the sand. He woke up with the feeling that his hands are in the blood and a greater heaviness was on the heart, than even if he killed an ordinary person.

«Dream is nothing!» the voice of a priest whispered to him through the cover of the end of confessional. Once Ferdinand looked and saw in this end, instead of a wrinkled face of the priest, an elegant face of an angel statue with bleeding eyes. It seemed to him that it was not marble, but alive. And it was not a dream.

«Keep silence, if you think that others will not understand you,» said the beautiful creature. And the words crashed into the brain as the island of blades.

And yet Ferdinand did not have to talk to another about his visions. He just needed to find someone who would understand it. Many honored elders in the monastery listened to him with attention, but could not really explain anything. From him, he was always separated only by common phrases, and in the air remained a feeling of innocence.