broke forth.
The sledge turned over.
It’s too late.
The boy was lying still, crushed by the heavy sledge.
The sledge burst into silver blue flame, soaring to the sky…
Vlad shook his head, banishing the horrible scene from his mind.
“I was late,” Vlad whispered with tears in his eyes. “Just a second late.”
Vlad and Freya
“You tried to save your friend,” Freya consoled him. “What you did was not black magic, was it? That is why you need the Academy: So that you are not late next time.” Freya placed an emphasis on the last words.
Vlad failed to find objections. Hating the defeat, he had to admit that Freya made a very compelling argument.
He was overwhelmed by conflicting feelings. Joy and excitement were mixed with anxiety and confusion. What awaits him? Will he like the new place? Is he going to find himself? And what about his friends? His choir? What will they do without him?
“Life is a book,” Freya said as if she was able to read his mind. “It’s time for you to turn the page over and get to a new chapter.”
They both relapsed into silence for a while. The boy was watching the play of the purple energy in the woman’s gown. The chain of events of the day was falling into place little by little: The strange words of Father Konstantin, the tale of old Fedotya. Did they know? Were they preparing him for this? He drew a sigh, closed his eyes, and whispered hollowly:
“When should I get going?”
“Today,” she gave a ruthless reply.
“Today?” Vlad looked around the priest’s house that had become his home, his heart sank. “But I must say goodbye to Father Konstantin.”
“He knows about you,” the master said, preventing further questions. “But you can write him a letter.”
“A farewell letter?” Vlad swallowed hard.
“Yes,” Freya nodded, “a farewell letter.”
She knew how he felt.
“When you leave the village,” Freya was giving him instructions, “find a solitary spot and squeeze this stone hard with your hand,” she pointed at the crystal on the chest of the womanlike hologram. “Don’t be afraid of anything, and don’t be surprised. You will not be alone on your way to the Academy.”
“Who is coming with me?”
“Someone who knows the right way! Good luck and see you soon!”
The lines of her body began to fade and, eventually, the woman disappeared. The remaining shapeless glow flowed into the crystal that slowly landed on the table.
Vlad went to his room. It was small but cozy. The daylight easily came through the only window with no curtains and kept the room light even in the early morning and during the evening hours.
There were two icons on a special shelf in the far corner of the room: The Virgin Mary and Nicholas the Wonderworker. There was also a bookshelf to the right from the God’s corner, filled with a dozen of various books. There were three more icons above the bed, including the icon of Saint Vladislav of Serbia, Vlad’s patron saint. A shabby Bible was lying on the bedside table.
Vlad looked around the place, where he had spent most of his life, for the last time.
There was nothing left to do but to write the letter. But how hard it was! Vlad felt such deep sadness that it made his heart shrink.
“All you have to do is say farewell,” the inner voice told him.
“I am scared,” Vlad admitted to himself and felt tears well up in his eyes.
“No wonder that you are scared,” he heard the encouraging inner voice. “And yet you have to do this.”
Vlad was about to ask himself what was going to happen when he left, but he didn’t dare. He felt that he already knew it.
“It will be hard. It will be really hard. But you can make it, Vladislav Viggin,” his inner voice whispered.
Vlad was still looking at a sheet of paper and a pencil in his hand. It all happened right here. The appearance of Freya, the invitation to the Academy, which wasn’t really an invitation, rather a statement of the fact. He realized he just didn’t have any choice, didn’t have any alternative. What was meant to happen would have happened regardless of what he felt or what he wanted.
Everything became clear.
“I don’t want to leave,” he whispered.
Tears flowed from his eyes, first slowly, and then plentifully.
He went on writing. He was writing in his neat handwriting, and the tears he failed to dash away were falling down on the paper.
He wished he could hug loving Father Konstantin, cheerful bell-ringer Mark, caring cook Anna, old Fedotya, and all his friends.
He had a gut feeling that they were going to disengage from his embrace, no matter how tight he would hold them.
“My dear Father Konstantin, I know that what I am going to do will please your heart, but my heart is breaking. Forgive me, father, and do not banish me from your heart, for I will see it as a bad sign discouraging from the journey.”
With his eyes cast down, Vlad walked along the village road unusually fast, almost running. He knew he would give it up and stay, if he spoke to a villager or even cast a glance back. He looked back only when he was outside the village.
Tears were still rolling down his face. But now, when he held the past tight in his heart, he could let it go.
Chapter Three. The Admission Trial
Words can hardly describe what Vlad felt when he was writing the farewell letter. You can try to understand the twelve-year-old boy who had to leave home, his warm bed, a hearty meal, and most importantly, his loving and caring family. If anyone asked him about the reason for his doubts, he would easily find an answer.
The boy was always obedient to the priest who was like a father to him. Father Konstantin and the church were his only home and his only family. But there was something deep at the core of his loving heart that made him dream of the place the woman from the magical crystal had invited him to. In an inexplicable way, Vlad knew that the new world was the place where he would find all the answers. Old Fedotya’s tales, the utterances like “This is not the place where you should be” and “You’d better leave”, which he had heard repeatedly, the words of the sorceress calling herself Freya, all of that encouraged him to make that step. After all, he was still a child and subconsciously longed for mysteries.
Vlad traveled light. He set his heart on this: Either he enters the new world with nothing that would remind him of the past or…
Longing for Father Konstantin and his home, he made it to a small bridge over the river before he even knew it. A dark forest stretched beyond the river.
Vlad was standing at the edge of a big forest. With a heavy heart, he looked back at his house, the village, and the church rising above it… The boy was on the verge of tears.
He drew the crystal, which called him for the road, out of his pocket, and squeezed it hard with his hand. To his surprise, the hard gem crumbled into sparkling purple dust and slipped through his fingers.
Vlad thought that he messed everything up. He must have missed something in Freya’s explanations, and now he had to go back, disgraced. The few minutes he was walking from his house to the forest brought a dramatic change in him. Now he saw his involuntary return as a retreat, an unfair punishment.
“Keep