Before you start reading this unusual tale, I would like to draw your attention to one important fact.
As
you will later discover, the world between worlds is inhabited by many
strange beings, and many bizarre events take place. At first glance, a
seemingly insignificant act—for example, naming either a person or a thing—creates
irreversible tracks and forever influences future events. Some
creatures possess the incredible ability to detect and examine these
tracks. This is usually insignificant, but as a whirlwind of tragic
circumstances sweeps the heroine of our story into an extraordinary web
of events, the discovery of her name could put her in mortal danger.
So,
whether you like it or not, until it is completely safe, or someone
comes up with a better idea, the heroine of this story must simply be
known as “the girl.”
Six hundred and eighty-seven years ago…
The
little witch kept repeating the charm, her eyes fixed on the fire.
Gusts of wind from the seaside blew the flames apart and drops of salty
water hit her face. She didn’t pay attention to any of this. The charm
she was conjuring by far exceeded anything she had tried before. She
had to focus. No more did she perceive the world around her; the whole
universe was concentrated into one fiery center point. The blaze began
to turn blue. The witch felt grains of sand gently pouring onto her
bare skin. Voices of ancestors gradually joined her words, and far
away, a seabird’s squeal resounded. With immense power, a wave of
excitement lifted her high up and drove her towards the cliffs. A cry
came from her finely shaped lips. Her pupils dilated, she watched a
small head with a beak take form in the middle of the flames, then
wings, and soon a miniscule, blood colored bird flew out of the fire.
It headed directly for her left hand. Before it could hit her freshly
treated wound, the little witch caught it in her palm and snuggled it
up to her cheek.
“Wait
here,” she whispered. “I shall return.” And she let it go. The bird
wavered in the strong wind and clumsily circled above her head.
“Go
home!” the witch cried and turned away. She didn’t look back anymore.
Balancing in the wind squalls only with difficulty, the bird hovered
uncertainly above the girl. Then it flew towards the roofs of a big
house outlined in the distance.
The
little witch began to climb down the steep cliff. She was advancing
quickly; she had obviously gone this way many times before. Soon her
feet touched the wet surface of a stone platform. The sea was rough.
The waves beat against the rocks, and here and there, showers of cold
water struck her. She had to hurry so the rising tide wouldn’t catch
her. The girl sighed with relief when she reached the tidal cave. Its
entrance was hidden underwater, so she didn’t hesitate and jumped into
the churning waves.
Soon,
she emerged inside the rocky cavern. The only opening by which the rays
of the setting sun could penetrate was right above her head. She felt a
gentle pull of sea current dragging her into the depths. The thrill
overwhelmed her again; one more look at the gold-colored sky. Sudden
sorrow stung the girl in her heart. Who knew if she would see it again?
Already decided, she clenched her teeth, took a deep breath, and threw
herself towards the gateway. A strong whirl seized her immediately and
spun her ahead.
It
was a fantastic sensation. She flew quicker than ever before, quicker
than she could ever have imagined. A thin film of water between her
body and the rock tickled her naked skin, and she could almost feel
that she was piercing the layers of time. Short of breath was the witch
was euphoric. Suddenly, she fell, like breaking through an invisible
membrane, and a second later, she was shot above the water surface. In
profound darkness, her eyes shone with a green light.
“The Lands of Dragons,” she whispered.
