Chapter 74.1 A Midsummer's Dream

The soft darkness enveloped me gently, tenderly, irreversibly. Without thoughts, without emotions, without anything that could be called a fraction of my self. But at some point the "I" appeared, began to awaken, reached for the purple spots, every second, every moment, flooded with light. As if from deep water I emerged, remembering what I am, who "I" am — the knowledge came a little later.

Gradually, all my perceptions turned to gray fog, my mind began to awaken as if it had fallen into hibernation. It woke up violently, groaned, slumped from side to side even though it didn't want to. I looked around but saw nothing. What am I doing here? And where is this "here"? Although... yes, that's right, how did I end up here?

My thoughts rattled around like blocks of stone, with a similarly real effect — a painful rumbling. The astral was somehow lazily responding to my wish, as if doing me a great favor. The gray clouds of fog shivered and began to move, swirling and banging. I couldn't get a clear order, so I had to accelerate the fog with short jerks, so as not to fly to the wrong places, in my current state it was better not to take any risks.

I don't know how long I've been walking, time is relative in the astral and you can't measure it by sensations alone. The worst thing was that I could not regain consciousness or feel the "silver thread" that connected the mind and the body. Leaving the body without the "thread" was a guaranteed way to lose it.

 Did I really die? But there were no prerequisites, my health was perfect....Or was I killed in my sleep? Could it be? It's possible. But it's still strange, because I'm more profitable alive, although no one knows what I really have, they could have gotten their hands on artifacts and my work log.

The treasure vault and the library can't be opened by anyone, even if the soul has been deliberately thrown out of the body and the flesh has been controlled. The spiritual lock is VERY serious, it does not use the light of the soul, or rather, not only that, but also the imprint of an intelligent spirit — one of the shells of the soul, not even a planetary god can forge such a thing.

And yet, what happened? I don't feel fire or water, so the soul-body connection is broken.... That's a shame. Well, at least I still have my magic and the knowledge I've picked up. Well, if I am to believe the Chinese Masters of the Way of the Spirit, I must now look for signs and hints of opportunity, and if it appears — do not miss it....

I spent some more time wandering in the fog, thinking about all sorts of things, but nothing complicated, because my consciousness was still in a kind of depressed state. Something I can't remember what that might mean.

A sharp, lightning-fast jolt to my back, and as I tried to regain my balance, a hard blow to my shoulder threw me through a cloud of sparkling blue sparks with an emerald green light pulsing in its center....

— ...you fool! Your naivety will not only destroy you, but them as well! — shouted a bearded brunet in his early forties, waving at the two beautiful women.

— No, — shook his red-haired head stubbornly, a sturdy big man in a leather hunting suit with a brigantine over it and a one-handed sword at his belt. — You are wrong, my friend! The time for change has come, and we are the ones to lead it!

— What makes you think they'll let you? Can't you see their thoughts? Their desires? Or do you want Elena's fate for your children?

— This tragic... — Red started to say, but he was interrupted.

— Don't you dare. — The brunette's confident, steely voice seemed like the cold of space, suffocating Red's will. — Elena's been subdued — you've all seen the marks.

— That's not necessary...

— You read the past as well as I do, so don't let yourself be deceived. — The brunette spoke in a stern voice, but already without absolute coldness. — Each of us understands whose work this is.

— But that doesn't mean we have to be like them! We must become the light that will warm their cold souls, melt their icy hearts!

— If we do what you do, they will burn our castles with our knowledge! Our children will go to their altars and feed their magic!

— I have made my choice. — The stubborn fire never left Red's eyes. — And I will not back down. Knowledge must not be hidden, it must be shared!

— Well, — the blue-eyed blonde's voice, calm as a windless fjord but full of the power of the sea, sounded for the first time in the whole argument. — You are free to dispose of your legacy as you wish, but don't expect us to do the same... — The woman looked at her now former comrade and called brother with a pained but unyielding determination. — ...not after all that has happened... ..... — The last words were almost a whisper, the sound of fallen autumn leaves.

— Know this, our former brother. — With bitterness and longing in his eyes, but with a fire of confidence, the brunet in a wide black robe and a silver oval medallion on his chest spoke. — Our decision is this: only those who can master this knowledge, who can use it wisely without falling into the darkness of madness, are worthy of it. Never, none of the unworthy will see it in the common library. Only our descendants, the most worthy, will know it, and they will choose their disciples. — The bearded brunet's voice was not loud, but solemn, echoing off the stone walls of the magnificent castle.

— You dare not keep this from the people! They have a right to know!

— So let them rediscover her for themselves. — The brunette's voice sounded like a fallen block. — If they can, they'll prove you right, if not, they'll confirm our conclusions. Our clan does not pretend to be someone else's and does not limit anyone's choice. But everyone has to prove that he is worthy, that after receiving knowledge without effort, it is impossible to evaluate it correctly...