Dool - стр. 4

It was difficult at first. But the autumn poured down with dull rains, the winter swept through with snowstorms, the early timid spring snowdrops blossomed – and from the old Marius, who fiercely wanted to learn, but in the explanations of the master who understood well if one word out of ten, only the name remained. Now he could distinguish one herb from another by smell and touch, even in dried and mashed form. I discovered that thoroughly washing the floor before drawing a circle of invocation on it perfectly sets the mood for the ritual. And the mad creature Garo caressed, accepting the treat, allowed him to comb his mane and pat his terrible face and did not try to bite off his fingers right up to his shoulders. And the master moderated his sarcasm, making remarks about the dubious intelligence of some high-born blockheads.

And at night, through sleep, voices were heard at the very edge of consciousness. They whispered something incomprehensible, called, promised. In his dream, Marius thought that in the morning he should tell his mentor, ask what kind of strange dreams he had, who was calling him and whether this call was dangerous. But in the morning I forgot.

Before entrusting a student to lead the ritual,

Take a safety test!

Marius didn’t completely forget the promise he made to his father, but put it on the farthest shelf of his memory. Well, really, where should he look for a bride now – in the forest? In the ancient dungeons of the Tower, shrouded in eternal darkness? Or in cemeteries, where the master began to take him so that he could learn to smell the emanations of decay and dust and work with them? How old is he, he'll have time! Breaking one’s own promises, of course, is not right and is completely disgraceful, but perhaps the father will understand and he himself will free him from the word given in the heat of the moment. And anyway, there are still six months before the harvest festival, you never know what can happen. Why worry in advance? Moreover, very soon – one of the eight Axes of the Wheel of the Year, day and night, when very special rites and rituals are performed. For three years already, Marius had met a necromancer as a student, but until now he had been admitted to these rituals only with the rights of an unreasonable child: “stop, look, don’t touch anything, where I tell you, repeat after me.” And this time the master promised to allow more. He said that the student would need help in a very important and special matter. How about brides here?

On the eve of the long-awaited day, Master Turvon ordered the student to rip out the floor throughout the entire tower, from the basements to the guard area on the roof, and not to forget the stone-paved area between the stables and the vegetable garden.

– Why there? – Marius was amazed.

“When you finish, find the answer in the treatise “On the rituals of the annual Wheel,” answered the master and, without saying anything else, he was transported somewhere by a portal. And Marius, sighing and looking lustfully at the library window, trotted off to the well.

He would have preferred to start with a treatise rather than with the work of a scrubber, despised for a high-born person, but the master said – the student did, and nothing else. And be quicker, otherwise there won’t be any time left for reading!