Прохор Озорнин - On the Wings of Hope - Prose

They have been sitting quietly, having strongly compressed each other's hands. So ten minutes passed. Finally, she managed to calm down.

“Have a rest, warrior,” she whispered silently and left the room.

***

The first day, the second, the third… Week, another, third…

He finally completely recovered from his wounds and they have got a possibility to talk every evening. She missed these simple human conversations greatly now – and so did he. They shared the same trait in this – they both have become exiles, both lost their relatives.

Gradually she started to come visiting him more often. When she, suddenly, started remembering of these memorable grief days of her recent past – he consoled her. Sometimes she asked him to tell of his former battles – and listened to what he was saying with such an attention and care, which he hasn't noticed in any woman before.

Then their days of joint walks on monastery vicinities have come. These were remarkable days – bright and sunny days of spring. Winter snow has finally thawed – and has apparently taken away all worries with him. It was a wonderful time. Perhaps, one of the best in both his and her lives.

They were standing, having embraced, under a crone of some tree, through the foliage of which a sun was playing with its beams on their faces. He was saying these words that moment – ones of his heart. He has sworn that they will never part ways and always, forever, both in life and death – will be together.

Eternally will be together. Forever.

With her, unique her – he has truly fallen in love. Unlike he loved anyone else he loved her. He is still loving her. And will always be – in life – and in death.

***

“Get ready! Move away! Ignite!”

The flame rushed upwards, desperately trying to devour in a flash of time a tenacious piece of a tree together with a man, bounded to it. Here its tongues are coming closer and closer – already dancing before his eyes. Soon it will all come to an end. It ends all so very soon…

Their common happiness didn't last for long.

A new raid of his horde came a year after – and only two defenders remained to protect the monastery – he and she. They have been captured – and he was recognized. At first, they have considered him as the Messiah – a one revived from dead – but shortly afterward someone has declared that he simply hasn't managed to thrust this traitor through a breast well enough with his ax. He didn't observe the one speaking these words – only his voice seemed somehow very familiar to him…

Traitors are never forgiven. Death is the fate of theirs. Through burning. Unprecedented execution for his people – they were usually killed in a fair fight. Probably he didn't even deserve such a fight judging by his brothers' decision – only a stab in the back.

She too must be burned to the death – as his accomplice – and that was the most terrible thing of all. But, as it came out, not for her – only not for her.

“I will remain with you forever – remember? In life and in death.”

“In life and in death – always,” he answered. And they embraced – for the last time in this life.

She was dragged away. Then she was fastened with iron ropes to the same pillar. And then a fire was ignited.

The flame assaulted with blinding and burning waves, devouring its legal victim. But the pain wasn't felt any longer. Two burning pillars. Two courageous persons.

“Together – forever!” he cried out with all remaining powers.

“Always!” her words reached his ears.

A new impact of elements – and they both have disappeared in the fire.

The crowd was shouting in ecstasy.

And only a few ones, who have turned away from this fire-site, swore to themselves – were giving a sacred oath of true warriors – to never in their lives allow such a thing anymore. To struggle for justice. Always. Only these few ones have seen, how two light spirits have soared high from burning columns. How they embraced and smiled to each other – and have risen up to the heavens.

“Together – forever,” they have overheard.

“Always,” repeated they.

03.01.2005

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

Heart-breaking howl of wolves, supported by two dozens of throats, escaped into the night sky, lit with a pale moon.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

Everything was mixed in this howl – pain from the losses of his companions, hatred to ruthlessly killing them hunters, a hunger that was beating with a faint echo in their stomachs…

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

There she is, the moon. A yellow circle in blackness. Attracting and frightening. Lighting the road in darkness for them. Light of night.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

He is now a part of the pack. Strong pack. They accepted him. Though he was different once. Doesn’t matter when.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

Tomorrow new hunting awaits. Such is the order of their leader. Attack of dwellings of the big beings, walking on two paws with their sticks, shooting with beams of light, which have turned many of his comrades into piles of ashes.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

Fight for their pets, whom they were eating. Not to starve to death. Fight to the death.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

Many of those, whom he knew during these three years, was already taken away by the great queen of the night, who has given them the moonlight. Death from hands of orthograde hunters. Death of the brave.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

The smell of their pets, the sound of the cartilages, torn apart by his canine teeth, blood, streaming from their wounds. Such a sweet meat. Sweet prey.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

Hunger. The stomach, clenching from it in pain. Tomorrow this pain will stop. They will attack under the hood of night. Will be sated. Will then hide from hunters. Confuse traces. Tear with claws.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

He remembered that he was different once. Not one of their kind. Didn't remember when. Long ago. Not important anymore.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

He had an owner. House. Big house. The owner died. Someone another lodged in the house. Expelled him away.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

The pain of loss. He strayed on roads. On fields. Through woods. Had no more powers. Wanted to die. Hunger led him into depths. There he found the Pack. Found his brothers. Became one of them.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

He sings his praising song to the great moon and twilight of the night. They are their cover. They are their support. Will not survive without them.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

Yellow eyes of the moon. Almost like their own.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

They bit hunters to death too. Those that have strayed away from their pack. Their meat was rigid. Cannot argue with hunger, though.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

When he had lived in the big house with his owner, colorful pictures came to him during nights. Cannot recall their name any longer. Too old reminiscence.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

Images were strange. He had two legs instead of four in them. He was orthograde. Almost like hunters.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

It is dreadful to remember. Images. In them, he was a… person? Strange word, almost forgotten, almost lost. Striking with intolerable pain.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

The person in his night pictures was pitiful and mean. Worse than a dog. Wolf in sheep's clothing. Wolf… a strange word.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

The person deceived and betrayed others. Did foul things. Bad person. Bad!

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

Bad! The person was told, that he is worse than a dog. The person only laughed, showing his golden canines with a smoking stick inside. Lots of evil came from that person.

A-a-u-u-u-u-u!

Then the person became an inveterate drunkard. Was left alone. No longer necessary. Both he, and to him. Worse than a dog.