that they had no chance to escape from that huge wave. That was the wave which for continuation of existence needed to eat. And that day it had lonely souls of the travelers who had not found love for lunch. She saw a stroke of hope in the eyes of those who appeared near the soulmate there, and suddenly understood that there was not love in her heart. It was empty, and that tasteless lunch for certain would be pleasant to the devourer of empty hearts. At the same moment Aurelia gave up because she understood that she really didn’t care…
To rather real atmosphere Aurelia was returned by very notable jolting. Already waking up, she was thinking that thought about need of love stuck in her mind, but she was living somehow without it before. Up to her age of twenty two she had been in love– had fallen out of love– had been disappointed-had taken offense and had not forgive… And actually she didn’t really suffer from her freedom, more precisely even opposite, she liked not to belong, not to depend, not to miss… However jolting was getting stronger, and Aurelia understood that for her own safety she had to open eyes. At the very same time jolting stopped. The silent servant in a gray loose overall pointed by gesture to a table there was a soup plate with the food which distinctly reminded to the girl of an empty stomach.
«I definitely miss coffee – thought Aurelia, eating the last spoonful of some hot porridge– coffee taste would be understandable and familiar.»
In the executioner's castle Aurelia spent seven days; each of them was painfully similar to the previous. After awakening and a poor tasteless breakfast the silent servant saw her off to the torment room where she spent the whole day at the prisoner's headboard, she was unable to take away hands and a look from his face. Physically he was quickly recovering, vital forces of the girl, flowing in almost breathless body, recovered his health. However Aurelia felt that something wasn't enough for her because for all that time the prisoner hadn't recovered consciousness. She peered at features on which only the intolerable fatigue imprinted, and it was visible, what even the deep sleep wouldn't help him to restore his strength. In the evening, almost fainting for fatigue, she with the help of the executioner reached a bed and failed in a chasm without dreams.
In the morning of the eighth day the silent servant who was shamelessly shaking her for a shoulder didn't show as usual on a table with a plate, and by gesture specified to follow him. Aurelia had already got used to silence in those walls and didn't try to find out from servants where she had got, all questions she decided to leave for conversation with the unfriendly castle owner. Gray gloomy confused corridors weren't going to come to an end; she was glancing with the missing look on walls there was nothing to catch a look. The same gray figure of the servant faceless and silent was sliding ahead, carrying a torch – the only sparkle of the real life in lifeless labyrinths.
Monotonous movement ended in an inconspicuous side door, there was a spacious room with a burning fireplace behind it. The idea of heat, which she had already missed, brought Aurelia to the fire without looking around. Silent servant disappeared, silently closing the massive carved door. The girl went to the fire and held out her arms forward. She did not even realize at first what was wrong. Only later she felt the searing heat instead of tingling coolness that turned into a prickly cold and sucked the girl, depriving the ability to pull out her hands from the cold embrace…
The cold moved the girl to the glade… cold, snowy, filled with the sunlight… in the center of which there was the waterfall of stunning beauty…
Aurelia spent another three weeks in the castle of the executioner. During this time, she learned that his name was Borg and that his emotions were expressed only through color of his eyes, changed frequently. She also learned that the executioner loves to be silent and especially appreciates the silence during the meal. They always ate meals together, enjoying every flavour of dishes, carefully prepared by somebody. However, none of these dishes had nothing in common with a tasteless porridge, that girl had to eat at the very beginning. This time they as usual were sitting at the table in silence. Candle lights were trembling, producing barely noticeable crackling sounds, reminding just a little about their real power and drawing the bizarre figures on the walls. The fire sizzled with white pure flame. Cold stone walls kept the echo of the distant events, Aurelia had already learned to catch their shades, however, sometimes it was quite difficult for her to understand them, and even if she was able to recognize, she didn't always like them.
– Where are my skulls?
– Your… what?
– Well… Metal balls, which later turned into skulls, and then – into stone tablets!
– So skulls or tablets? You should be clear about what your need…
– Are you making a mock of me?
– What color are my eyes right now?
– Golden. Light.
– What does this color remind you of?
– It is laughter!
– What color is a mockery?
– Golden with red and green flashes!
– Than tell me, whether I am laughing now or making a mock of you?
This form of dialogue was a bit embarrassing for the girl, she always had to look narrowly at his eyes and often she saw there something that she could not explain, shade of something hidden, but still very important, something that was a major component of his essence. However, Aurelia didn’t want to think about it for a long time, because after this feeling always came an endless falling into the strangest depths of the unknown world of the executioner.
Not only at the table they talked a very rarely, if Borg did not consider necessary to explain to Aurelia about his world order, then, perhaps, she would never get answers to any of her question. However, the responses also rarely satisfied the curiosity of the girl, though they significantly increased her understanding of the existing laws. Borg never asked about the world, from which Aurelia came. All his questions were only intended to verify whether the girl understood all aspects that he explained earlier to her or not. Sometimes she wanted to share her thoughts, her memories, her dreams, and, finally, to tell about her reality. But the executioner never asked the girl about her world. Aurelia remembered one article that she read one day. This article was about a certain phenomenon – emotional affection that prisoners begin to feel to their jailers after some time. She could not remember the reasons caused this certain phenomenon. Maybe – every living creature has the need to feel such affection to somebody, and, since there are no other candidates, the prisoners are guiding it to their jailers. Maybe, scientists have another explanation. «Interesting, – Aurelia thought somehow, – whether the jailers themselves began to experience something similar to the feelings of their prisoners?»
At that moment the girl heard a hum of disapproval of the executioner, although he said no words. However, it was enough to interrupt the flow of her thoughts and gave the girl the opportunity to focus on food.
Time passed. Over the past three weeks Aurelia had visited the prisoner, who was lying motionless, only for three times. She noticed that after those sessions, his skin got its pinkness living, breathing which was heavy and hoarse became pure and deep facial features became softer, and lifeless fatigue left them. However, he never opened his eyes, Aurelia thought more than once about the color of his eyes, but did not dare to look.
Big hill. On the one hand it was covered with green plants, grass, trees. On the other there was a wasteland – a lifeless land, frozen with waves like lava. In her dream, Aurelia saw that hill from the side. That wasteland as if had a contour shaped like a circle superimposed on the slope. Suddenly, the girl happened at the center of quite large circle. There was grayish-brown soil underfoot; it was like dry, lifeless dust. She looked up; there was gray heavy sky. And nearby there was some large man in dark gray, almost black