Methodius Buslaev. The Scroll of Desires. Дмитрий Емец

were looking back a little, having a barely noticeable sharp bend. If the bronze wings had the likeness of an eagle’s wings – these more resembled the wings of a storm petrel or an albatross.

      “What, are you also a guard of Light? But why are your wings not quite right?” Daph asked already much more peacefully, however, without lowering the flute. “Yes, I’m Light. But I’m not from Eden. I’m not among those who consider you a traitor and thirst for punishing you!” the stranger said with a smile. “Hmm… Sounds somewhat drunk. Then where are you from?” Daph asked not without a challenge. Fate again began to tempt with its opportunity for everyday rudeness. “I’m from the Transparent Spheres, my dear child! I’m your guard-keeper! My name is Essiorh!” Daph grew numb. The flute in her hands lowered by itself. The Transparent Spheres, situated at the top of Seven Heavens, were home to those who stood over the guards and protected them. Even Troil’s guardian was there. “You are my guard-keeper? You?” she asked distrustfully. “And why not?” the stranger was astonished.

      Daph stared at him with suspicion. It goes without saying that she knew her guard-keeper undoubtedly existed. But that he would look so… eh-eh… unconventional. She must admit that she had visualized something much more respectable. So bald, with tortoise-shell glasses, slightly boring, drawling, with a music folder under his arm, and a tiny speck of green on his cheek, under which hid a small and decent teacher’s pimple… But here… ahem… military boots, all in leather, provocative belt… hmm… to analyze in general, amusing. After securing such a guard-keeper, here she would also be able to remain in her usual style.

      Essiorh, after bending his head, looked with a critical eye at his own figure and the belt with the buckle in the shape of a skeletal hand. “Is my body troubling you, my child? Perhaps you don’t know that keepers from the Transparent Spheres, in contrast to you Eden guards, cannot be on Earth in their true bodies? Must admit, this brutal appearance, a mountain of muscles and the chin of a savage also disturbs me; however, it appeared there were no other bodies in our terrestrial storage. Selection was poor to almost nil. Taking into account that a talking dog is somewhat frivolous for a first meeting of a guard and his keeper, I nevertheless would take a human body. Moreover, there were still… hmm… a few other reasons.”

      Daph nodded. “Good it’s not a dog. My cat… On the whole, I want to say that we could slightly scratch a dog easily. People would then think that the dog had been frolicking, excuse me, with a circular saw.” “Even a talking one?” Essiorh was horrified. Daph nodded dejectedly. “Alas. I don’t think that it would have time to speak. Even with the word ‘hello’ it would only reach the letter ‘e’…”

      Essiorh reproachfully shook his head. “Ahem… Well, so there it was… My good child, I hurried in order to inform you: your immortal essence and your wings are in great danger.” Daph dropped her eyes. Essiorh looked at her with the well-developed incinerating severity. Daph learned severity № 27 of the General Catalogue of Reproaches and Moral Admonitions for Influence on Mortal and Immortal Essences Endowed with Conscience (program of class 97 of guard-educational high school). “Wow, they teach our keepers using the same textbooks!” she was mentally enraptured.

      “Listen to me, unhappy child! Listen and be frightened! It’s not enough that you – voluntarily or not – stepped on the slippery path of service to the guards of Gloom, not enough that your new masters steal eide! Not enough that the circle of your contacts is composed of agents, cursed witches, pagan tramps…” he was rattling like a machine gun. After perceiving that he had made a slip of the tongue, Essiorh winced slightly; however, he did not begin to correct himself. He thought it would probably just slip through. “Who are these pagan tramps? Surviving Trojans grown wild? Dangerous specimen probably? Perhaps you had in mind pagan gods?” Daph asked pitilessly.

      However, her sting did not succeed. Essiorh already knew how to wriggle out. “…Don’t interrupt! I have no other designation for these pagans imagining themselves as gods… And the succubae, disturbing the righteous sleep of mortals with exciting visions, perhaps they belong to the society, which a guard of Light needs? But the speech is not even about this! After all, all this can be written off as an accident and errors of youth. You did something more terrible, quite nightmarish!” Essiorh lifted a finger and traced an inspired line, one end of which rested against the nearest cloudlet, and the other on Daph’s nose. Daphne waited with trepidation for the continuation. And it followed immediately.

      “An impression of your Light wings has turned up on the scroll stolen by one of the servants of Gloom. With your action, you have stuck a dagger into the heart of Light! You have messed up the veins of good and evil! Do you at least understand what you have done?” Essiorh got carried away. His voice rose increasingly higher. The entrance glass started to vibrate. The code-lock grew warm. The bright buttons began to weep with the scorching metal.

      Daph coughed politely but persistently. “Can I ask a question?” “Ask!” Essiorh said, clearly grieved by the desire to be contrary and to refute all her arguments. “You said: ‘An impression of your wings has turned up on the scroll.’ On what scroll?” Essiorh frowned. “What? Are you pretending? You dare to deceive me? To lie to your guard-keeper?” “But I’m not lying. I saw no scroll… That is, I saw three railroad cars of scrolls, but something that special, I would remember… And I didn’t leave an impression of my wings anywhere!” Daph stated, after looking at Depressiac. “And what do you think of that?” The cat kept its opinion to itself.

      Essiorh started to seethe with indignation. He aimed a reproachful finger at Daph and was about to continue the disclosure, but unexpectedly stopped short. “Eh-eh… What day of the week is it today?” he asked absent-mindedly. “Monday,” announced Daph with doubt. She knew the moronoid days of the week rather poorly. “Yes, exactly. It was Monday morning, since the agents trooped over to Ares,” she added, after thinking it over.

      Essiorh held his head. “Oh, woe is me! I mixed up everything! Having travelled here from the Transparent Spheres, I didn’t consider the difference in Earth time, didn’t think about the natural celestial lead, and warned you about an event, which hasn’t yet occurred, thus destroying the immutable law of freedom of choice.” Here Essiorh, not sparing his body, hit himself hard on the forehead with one of the rings. He did this with such zeal that an imprint appeared on his forehead. “Now I’m forced to take leave of you! But remember what I said to you!” he stated and started to move back hurriedly, clearly intending to disappear.

      “Stop!” Daph shouted. “But was it you in the limo? May I use the informal ‘you’ or is this impudence?” The keeper stopped. “Informal ‘you’? This is impudence, but you may,” he said after some wavering. “Where, where was I?” “In the car following me. Well, tell me, this is important to me! Why were these tricks necessary? In order to play a little on my nerves?”

      Essiorh looked at her in bewilderment. “Well, it’ll be known to you: I found you only twenty minutes ago. Found with the help of that indissoluble tie, which always exists between a guard and his keeper. I was in shock. I’ve become a complete stranger to the mortal world. I was last here during the times of ancient Babylon. I remember I found a whole crowd of idlers and, in order that the people would not lounge around with nothing to do, I proposed to them to build a tower. The usual small tower. Who knew that the moronoids would get so carried away? My boss was very unhappy.”

      “Fine, not you, so not you. But did you see the limo?” Daph continued asking. “No. I must assume you have in mind one of those vehicles with a nice young woman at the wheel attempting to knock me down when I was pondering something on the pavement?” Essiorh tried to be more specific. Daph looked searchingly at him and decided that it was possible to believe his words. That Depressiac related to Essiorh benevolently served as an influential argument in favour of Essiorh speaking the truth. Taking into account its specific character, of course. In any case, it did not strain itself and did not hiss at him as at the limousine. “It means, not only are the golden-wings and the keeper from the Transparent Spheres interested in me… I’ve become popular. Only this form of popularity somehow is not much to my liking,” decided Daph.

      “Why haven’t you been in the mortal world for so long?” Daph asked, after deciding to appear attentive. It would