Тёмная Башня. Dark Tower. Премия им. Э.Т.А. Гофмана / E.T.A. Hoffmann award (Билингва: Rus / Eng)
rather, I fell out of there!» I pointed my finger at the sky. «Sorry!»
«Well, „there“ is an elusive term. Better tell me who are you? And where do you live?»
«I lived on Earth, but suddenly I got here. My Angel says I have to go back. That’s what decided Upstairs. And at Customs, I accidentally stumbled.»
«Ah, you are an exception! I get it! Remember, there are no coincidences! Let’s go, I’ll take you to Customs. If you were an ordinary ghost, we would use the Portal.»
We went into the distance.
«And you… who are you?» I decided to break the silence. «Tell me about your World! I’m interested, really!»
«You know, everyone has their own little world here. In terms you can understand, similarly to the World of Illusions, where souls incarnate and live, we have many countries, for example, the Land of Mists. It borders on the World of Illusions. Any soul passes through it, going down or up. Many souls get stuck there until they solve their issues on Earth. There is the Land of Dreams, a neutral visa-free territory, where all souls can meet without exception. Those who are close to the Creator live in the Land of True Light. Some say that only spirits dwell there, not souls. Spirits, freed from attraction to the Wheel of Time. However, this is just partly true, because in each Land there are several Spheres, or Levels.»
«Is the City of the Sun located in the Land of True Light?» I wondered.
«Yes, it is.»
«And where do you live?»
«Not far from the City of the Sun.»
«So you’re not a witch, are you?»
«Of course, I am not,» the girl laughed. «I’m just used to. In one of my incarnations, I was burned by the inquisition, although I didn’t practice witchcraft.»
«Excuse me… And where do witches and sorcerers live?»
«Down there.»
«On Earth?»
«And there as well. By the way, they can also be found in the Land of Mists, although less often than in the Land of Dreams, but they can’t get into the Land of Light. They shouldn’t, at least.»
«Do you miss Earth?»
«No, but sometimes I return to the chapel… Usually, those who miss earthly things, or are somehow attached to Earth, get stuck in the Land of Mists. Those who come to the Land of Light are no longer particularly nostalgic.»
«And what do you do in the Land of Light?»
«I work in the Mental Sphere. Inventing antidote formulas in the laboratory of one of the first alchemists.»
«It turns out that souls don’t rest, they work.»
«They serve. Just like on Earth. The only difference is that here they serve consciously. Some souls even consider life on Earth a vacation. Someone, indeed, goes down to have a rest, someone has a business trip.»
«Do souls choose themselves where and with whom to have a rest?»
«Almost always themselves, yes. Business trips, of course, can’t be chosen, but, in any case, options are agreed with you.»
«So am I on vacation or on a business trip on Earth now?»
«Somehow, yes.»
«Then… the Warriors of Light are not a fairy tale?»
«Of course not! And what do you do on Earth?»
«I write fairy tales. For adults.»
«Wow! Sometimes I visit the Library of the Universe for work. I’ll have to find you there and read something!»
«Am I there, too?» I was surprised.
«Of course, you are! Everything and everyone that worth being is there.»
«Even unwritten yet?»
«Yes. Otherwise, it won’t be written.»
«Why?»
«First everything appears here, and then on Earth.»
«Will you tell me your story while we go to Customs?»
«Something earthly? Or local?»
«I don’t know, but, apparently, the one that is already in the Library of the Universe,» I supposed, smiling, and my companion smiled back.
«Okay! I’ll tell you about my Dark Tower. Although, there are a lot of stories here.»
…My Angel was sitting on a bench near the Customs, waiting for me. I thanked my red-haired guide, and she instantly disappeared. I went up to the Angel.
«Sorry, I accidentally stumbled and fell into the fog,» I apologized.
«Nothing happens by accident. Neither here, nor on Earth. You needed that for some reason, and it’s good for you. Here is your passport with the return visa, hold it. All necessary corrections and comments were made in the Tablets. Let’s go!»
The Angel got up from the bench and held out his hand to me.
«Listen,» I said, embarrassed, «I’ve been told there is the Library of the Universe somewhere around here.»
«Not here, in the Land of Light, yes,» the Angel smiled.
«Are we in the Land of Mists now?» I supposed.
«Quite right. You’re already pretty good at it!» the Angel smiled again.
«Well… They say the Library contains even something yet unavailable on Earth.»
«That’s true,» the Angel nodded. «There is absolutely everything there.»
«Is it really possible to read what hasn’t been written yet?» I was surprised.
«You are reasoning from the earthly point of view. Everything has already been written, but not on Earth,» the Angel clarified. «So, of course, you can read it. Some souls have access to the Reading Hall even during their incarnation in the World of Illusions. They can go into the Library and find any book, newspaper, magazine – whatever is there.»
«That girl who helped me not to get lost…»
«Karina?»
«Yes, Karina, she said she would go there to read my books. Meanwhile I don’t have a single book on Earth yet. So I thought…»
«Would you like to visit the Library?» the Angel scanned me.
«Yes, of course, I would! To be honest, I’m scared. What if there…»
«…there are no books of yours?» he finished my thought and smiled.
«Yes… You see, I write just as… Well, uh… as notes in the margin… in a notebook. Perhaps it will remain in my notebook, in a drawer of my desk, and never see the light.»
The Angel hugged me and led me in the opposite direction from the Customs.
«Nothing happens by accident, my dear soul! You stubbornly refuse to take my word for it. However, since we are still in the Timelessness, nothing prevents us from staying a little longer. Let’s fly!»
We disappeared into the fog, and when we got out of it, I found myself in the corridor of a giant Reading Hall with numerous shelves on both sides. Dense and utterly ghostly souls, dressed in clothes of completely different centuries and nations, were looking for something, climbing ladders or simply walking through the air, periodically hovering over their discoveries, and some were sitting with books at tables by ancient lamps and lanterns and drinking tea or coffee.
I turned to the Angel in confusion.
«There are so many books here! Where should I look for mine?»
«Whatever is truly yours will