The most pleasant thing about hiking is comfortable and lively solitude. The sound of foliage, the gentle play of light and shadow, music in the ears and a relaxing change of scenery. No people and no way to contact them. I remembered the algorithm I had sketched out for processing calls at a work PBX, and grinned vindictively. What joy it brings to any subtle mind to skillfully do something nasty... even to a friend.
The path suddenly split into two, causing me legitimate doubts. It seems that this one leads to the ascent... or the next one? Damn, I'll have to check the map.
I take my tablet out of my pocket and turn on the GPS module attached to my backpack. A couple of minutes and I saw where I was. After making sure that the path was correct, I headed down the right-hand path leading up the mountain. It immediately became harder to walk, but the climb is not too long, and the final goal fully pays off all the torment. If, of course, I find her.
I stomped for another hour, checking my position from time to time. My legs were already a little sore, subtly hinting at the need to make a stop, but I decided to first get to the abandoned forest guardhouse, which was now occupied from time to time by hunters and hikers. Ilya said that the house was overgrown so that it was difficult to notice even up close, and gave extremely accurate coordinates. Yeah, but there's a problem.…
Irritably, I reset the receiver and mutter obscenities under my breath. Despite the fact that I'm standing still, the navigation arrow is slowly creeping somewhere to the upper corner of the screen. The information window happily demonstrates an accuracy of ± 50 meters. Thinking gloomily that by the time of the next hike, I would need to solder an external antenna to it, I turned off the device. There is nothing to do, it remains only to search the entire radius in a spiral.
It was getting dark. Light clouds quickly gave way to thunderclouds — a common thing. There are thunderstorms here almost every evening at this time of the year. By the way, perhaps it is because of the thunderstorm front that my GPS is so mercilessly buggy. It's going to rain soon, and I still haven't found the hunting lodge. Damn, do I really have to turn the tent around? Wait, what the?.. Yeah! Found.
The house is really so overgrown with ivy or something else that I walked around it for several minutes and thought it was part of the landscape. There were small trees growing on the roof, among which I only noticed a chimney by pure chance.
I expected the cabin to be at least damp, but it looks like people have been here quite often. One room: a stove, a woodcutter, two mesh single beds placed on logs for height, an inverted galvanized bucket next to them and a pair of stretched ropes to dry clothes. The ultimate rationality.
So, I found the house, so there must be a lake somewhere nearby. After a whole day on my feet, the thought of a geothermal bath, for which I actually came here, was extremely tempting. And even twilight. And the rain... I love the rain! I'm basking in the warmth, and a cold rain is pouring down from above... that's it, it's decided!
Throwing off my backpack, I quickly took out a flashlight, a large towel, soap and a change of underwear. Hmm, perhaps I should melt the stove so that I can return to the warmed-up room... and I'll wash the smell of smoke off myself right away, before it starts to give me a headache.
I usually like to look at a slow-burning fire, but now I wanted much more to get to the lake before it finally gets dark and the rain starts, so after quickly checking the draft, I threw in some dry logs, generously poured them with a kindler, threw a match. After making sure that the flames had caught, I put the necessary belongings in a bucket and went outside. It's still light enough, but when I come back, I won't find this house so easily. But running around in the dark is not an option either. I'll have to leave the flashlight here, blink in beacon mode, and get back, lighting myself with a keychain.
So, how do you get to the lake there? "Standing with your right hand to the door, walk eight hundred steps straight, then turn right, another hundred steps, there will be a stream, then up along it." The description seemed to come off the pages of a children's book about pirate treasures, but Ilya, who suggested this place to me, always preferred relative values to absolute ones, justifying himself by saying that he had enough accuracy at work. Yeah, sure.
I walk, intently counting my steps. There was a rumble in the sky, the first drops hit the leaves. Eight hundred, I turn right, and soon I really hear the murmur of a stream. I lightly touch the water with my fingertips — it's a little warm. Smiling, I hurry upstream. Oh, oh... that's it!
The lake was small, about ten meters in diameter. Steam rose from the hot water—forty to forty—five degrees. Undressing quickly, I rammed things into a bucket and put it upside down on a stone to protect the contents from the rain, and then plunged into the water with pleasure. The lake turned out to be unexpectedly shallow — in the deepest place it barely reached my buttocks. And that's good, so the water is being renewed quickly... if someone from the older generation of relatives were here, now there would definitely be chatter about its healing properties... br-r-R. I hate pointless chatter.
With an effort of will, I force myself to put all thoughts out of my head and relax, leaning against a warm stone. The rain is gradually increasing. Bliss... everything is exactly as I wanted it to be. Thunder overhead, the rustle of a small waterfall and hot water washing over the body…
Maybe, well, to hell with it? Should I quit my job, spend my savings on minimal amenities, and settle here, slightly rebuilding the hunting lodge? Winters are mild here, I'm sure this source does not freeze, so there is a place to wash... it's not a problem to get electricity either, a couple of solar panels and a windmill, and then… No chatter, colleagues, lies, eternal manipulations from which you can only wash off in hot springs ... Read, walk, think, enjoy peace and quiet. And then you can come back, in a year or two. Oh, dreams.
I smile a little. The rain massages your face pleasantly, its noise mixes with the rustle of the waterfall into a sweet lullaby. The head slides off the stone, and the next moment I took a good sip of bitter water with a noticeable smell of hydrogen sulfide. Coughing and trying to drain the burning liquid from his nose, he jumped up carelessly, immediately slipped on a slimy stone and fell into the water like a Greek colossus again, repeating the procedure of drinking "healing" water. Normally, such an adventure would have made me angry, but now I just laughed, imagining how it all looked from the outside.
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— Oh, okay ... — I said softly, having stopped laughing. — I need to wash up, otherwise I'll be completely lazy later.
Taking a washcloth with soap, which I had set aside in advance, I began to vigorously scrub off my hiking sweat. Still, the water is a little hot, but this was a plus - I was so warmed up that now the downpour only slightly chilled my skin. An extremely pleasant feeling.
After washing up, I plopped back into the water to wash off the foam. In general, washing in natural reservoirs with soap is a so—so idea, but since the water here still does not allow something more complicated than bacteria to live, then figs with it, I will not scratch the ecosphere especially.
When I was done, I moved to a rock a little closer to the waterfall to wait for the soapy water to be carried away by the stream. I'll sit here for now, and as soon as the rain stops, I can go back. I didn't have to wait long — the main phase of the downpour passed even before I started washing, and in less than ten minutes only a light drizzle fell from the sky. But the storm seemed to be just gaining momentum — the thunder did not stop for a second.
"That's awesome, of course," I said, stretching. "But if it goes on like this, the hell I'm going to be able to sleep."
Getting up, I return to the bucket, turn it over to its normal position and remove the towel. After rubbing myself thoroughly, I got dressed without leaving the water. After checking the fasteners on the pockets of my hiking jacket and making sure they were closed, I gathered up the rest of my belongings and headed to the source of the stream. The undergrowth near the lake turned out to be unexpectedly dense, and the shore turned into a real swamp of liquid mud after the rain. The original plan to get out on the grass and continue walking on it has gone to waste — I'm going to get dirty like a pig. The second way to return is to walk along the stream, as I got here initially, but now there is ankle—deep mud, and the chance of slipping is unpleasantly high.
Cursing, I still decided not to storm the shore, but to walk barefoot along the stream until there was some opportunity to wash off the dirt and put on shoes. Walking slowly along the muddy bottom, I had already reached the turn when my attention was attracted by something glowing in the clearing. Looking closer, I almost screamed — a skull surrounded by ghostly fire was floating in the air…
I felt frozen to the spot. Without looking up, I followed the movement of the flying skull, until common sense finally suggested that the skull somehow already looked like a skull and did not look like one. Damn, fear has big eyes... it's just some kind of sparkling glowing sphere. It's unusual, of course... but it's a ball lightning! I never expected to see such a thing!
Intense fear was instantly replaced by delight, and I pulled the tablet out of my pocket, but I could not capture the glowing ball slowly flying across the clearing — the camera was completely unsuitable for night shooting. The lightning on the screen looked like an overly large welding light, writing monograms in the air. It's getting bigger. Oh my…
The sparkling ball slowly but very purposefully flew in my direction. I instantly remembered everything I had ever read about fireballs, and, frantically turning off the tablet, put it in my pocket. The lightning slowed down slightly, but did not change its direction. Throw away the tablet? Throw something at the ball? Run away? It's a pity for the tablet, lightning can explode, running through ten—centimeter dirt is a dead number, and even if it did, it could be pulled after me by an air stream. So, nothing to destabilize her... no harsh sounds, no sudden movements... maybe she'll pull away from me or dissipate on her own. If only she didn't explode, otherwise I've been reading stories.…
I carefully backed away, not turning my back on the lightning—if I was going to die, then at least I could see from what. It was already difficult to walk in complete darkness through the slurping mud, and it was a nightmare to walk backwards and with busy hands. Without stopping backing away, I bent down slightly and dropped the bucket of shoes on the ground. I'll pick it up later, if I still have any "later".
The lightning continued to chase me and even slowly shortened the distance! Well, yes, she doesn't need to pull her legs out of the bottom. I even heard a slight buzzing, like three meters from a transformer station, and also a light, light crackle, as if someone in the distance was tuning an ancient radio receiver. And it's fascinating... damn it! What familiar feelings…
I've always been tempted to kill myself. Probably. I have never talked about this with anyone other than the Google search bar. As soon as I was at a more or less sufficient height and looked down, I began to tear apart from fear and delight at the same time. Fear pulled back, delight pulled forward. I knew perfectly well that after such a fall, bones would not be collected from me, but I could not deny myself the pleasure of hanging out on top ... until, quite by accident, I discovered that the fear was weakening. "Completely by accident" is waking up from a half—trance, standing on the parapet of the balcony. Then I staggered back, hit my coccyx painfully, came to my senses for a few more minutes, and then began to avoid such situations. At first I thought that this is how the fear of heights manifests itself, but, as it turned out over time, no. When I was almost hit by a car, I felt the same wild delight. Time passed so deliciously slowly... and yet I took a step back. Then there was the case with the plane, when a bird got into one of the engines on takeoff in the air. The fear came only when I was on the ground. Then they threatened me with a knife, and I almost ran into him myself. And all these cases were united by one thing — a mad, passionate delight. It can't be explained by adrenaline, adrenaline was always later... it couldn't be explained by the fact that I was a purposeful suicide — otherwise I would have jumped off back then. I found my answer in a very controversial term of psychotherapy — "mortido". I was not drawn to death until I saw a real opportunity to kill myself, but when such an opportunity was presented, when the chance to be destroyed loomed so beckingly before my eyes, feverish ecstasy rolled over me in waves. Just like now.
I want to touch the zipper.
But really, why not?
Because I'm probably going to die right there.
Well, so what?
Well... I want to live.
Really?
Hm…
I want to touch the zipper.
Well, really, why not?
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Because I'm going to die.
So what? Everyone will die! But I will be the only one who touches the fireball at the same time.
And I want to touch her. That's how it buzzes invitingly.
Touch it.
Well, uh... no?..
Isn't it?
I'm arguing with myself. And I want to touch the zipper. Is it worth living at all? I avoid people, and it's mutual. There are no friends. There is no family. More precisely, there is, but they will live without me. There are no emotional attachments. The letters are written. What keeps me in this world? Just the fear of dying? Yes, fu to be like that!
Yes, I think I'll touch the zipper.
I find myself standing knee-deep in the hot water of a geothermal lake. Wow, I got far while I was thinking. I stopped. The lightning flew a little closer and froze, humming and crackling like a distant flame.
—Age quod agis,— I whispered, reaching for the zipper. She seemed to lick my fingers, sparkled…
The last thing I remember is the feeling of hair standing on end, a bright flash in front of my eyes and the thought: "rough."
Author's Note
The author categorically disapproves of the hero's actions in the prologue finale.
I woke up. To my boundless surprise. After all, he had just stroked a rough ball lightning, which seemed to exclude such a development of events, and now... what now?
There were some melodious trills nearby. I open my eyes and... nothing has changed. Utter darkness. I want to raise my hand to touch my face, but I can't. The body does not obey. There was a series of muffled clicks, and then I heard someone's voice. More clicks. Now there are two voices — both very gentle, melodious... pleasant. It was even nicer that I didn't understand anything. It's like I'm listening to "Adiemus" a cappella. Something like "Song of Aeolus" [ https://youtu.be/lZqQRi-zQfI?t=5 ]. I couldn't help but smile. The voices immediately fell silent, and after a couple of seconds one of them said something with an obviously questioning intonation. A couple more seconds and the question was repeated, in any case, the words seemed similar to me, although they were arranged in a different order.
They seem to be talking to me.
"I didn't understand anything," I said in an unexpectedly hoarse voice. — Generally.
Some nonsense again, but this time alarmed. I was reminded of "Adiemus" again, this time "Song of the Odyssey" [ https://youtu.be/VhzwwpYPZMM?t=172 ], I grinned at the comparison, and my dry throat immediately began to ache unbearably. I coughed, and then a glass was brought to my lips. I greedily drink its contents in two gulps. Uh... yeah, that's better.
There were more clicks, this time more fractional, the rustle of an object being moved, and the voices faded away. It seems that there is no one around me now.
So... so I have time to think, though these thoughts will be sad. The only thing worse than jumping from the twelfth floor and dying is to jump from the twelfth floor and stay alive. I did not expect such a trick from lightning at all. And now... well, now it's bad. "Purchase paralysis from us and you will get blindness for free!", heh.
Moreover, both are most likely caused by extensive damage to the nervous system — it is unlikely that the doctors really sang a cappella over me. If I'm in the hospital at all... hmm, probably in the hospital. Some elusive, but easily recognizable smell is present… And, come to think of it, where else could I have gone after being struck by lightning? Either to the hospital or to the cemetery, and I'm thinking too much for the second option.
Going back to the doctors. Unless it's the Indian Krishna Song and Dance Hospital, then most likely they spoke Russian normally, and I just can't recognize the words.… If you think about it, I even know what such a canoe is called. Mmm... asphyxia? Aphasia? No... agnosia! Auditory-speech agnosia.
Well, at least I still have my wonderful memory. Blindness and paralysis are bad. But agnosia is a gift from heaven! Oh, if only it could be artificially induced! I would pay any money for it! Within reason, of course. Just imagine — you go, and everyone is singing around, like in some (any?) A Bollywood movie…
They didn't leave me alone for too long. The rustle of an object being shifted (the door, probably), clicks and a pleasant a cappella. But then a third, somewhat younger, was added to the two familiar voices. Perhaps the girl doctors decided to just chat among themselves while no one is watching, but I, as an exception, do not mind at all. The owner of the third voice spoke at first somewhat uncertainly, someone objected to her, she answered more decisively and at the same time with a certain note of curiosity. Then something sharp was placed in the middle of my forehead, and I started in surprise. A third voice said something with a soothing intonation.
"It's okay," I replied, trying to completely copy the other person's emotion in case I also have aphasia. It does not seem to affect the emotional coloring of speech…
The tip of the sharp thing seemed to start to heat up, and then there was an instant, strange feeling, as if a festive firecracker had been shot in my face, and confetti from it flew through my head. The bed seemed to bounce under me, and I reflexively jerked to grab something and stay in place, but my body refused to obey again. The dizziness passed as quickly as it started, and then…
— Do you understand me? That third voice said.
Wow, damn, that's a surprise! I wonder what kind of device it was that she so famously set my brain right?
"Alas... yes," I sighed, but then I came to my senses. — I'm sorry, don't take it personally. It's just that the only advantage I found in my condition was a lack of understanding of the speech of others.
- why? There was genuine curiosity in the question.
— It was like music... — I timely came up with the idea to talk less about the business, so I moved on to more pressing issues. — Are you my doctor?
— Oh, no, no, I just helped here ... — the voice was slightly distant.
"Thank you for your help, Twilight," said one of the two voices that had been in the chamber from the very beginning. — We couldn't have done it on our own.
"No problem,— the third voice sounds pleased, either from the praise, or from the help provided, or... from both.
— So, I'm your doctor, — the voice that thanked a certain Twilight approached me and now sounded to the right. — How are you feeling?
The names sound strange. Is this a remnant of agnosia? Maybe I should ask them to hit me again? Okay, then.
"Nothing hurts, so you can say that it's surprisingly good," I said, a little thoughtfully. — To be honest, I didn't expect to wake up at all.
— You're on painkillers. This is temporary until your skin is completely restored," she explains the reason for my well—being. — Do you know what happened to you?
- yes. Approximately, — I catch myself. Admitting such stupidity to doctors is a sure way to compulsory treatment and bad consequences. They'll consider me suicidal, and that's it, you won't wash off later, so I'm only telling a third of the truth: — I think I was struck by lightning.
— Yes, the injuries are similar ... — the doctor replied thoughtfully. — There was no place for you alive.
— I guess, — I smiled knowingly and asked the most burning question. — Doc, what's wrong with my eyes?
— They were also badly burned, but we managed to regenerate the damage. So far, the fabrics are too delicate, so you will have to wear a bandage for a while.
"So I'm not blind?"
"I can't tell you anything yet,— she sighed. — It will be possible to say for sure only in three days. But the chances of a full recovery are quite high.
— And that's bread. Also, I can't move.
— Don't worry, it's a side effect of your painkillers. We will gradually reduce the dose throughout the day. Most likely, by tomorrow the effect will completely disappear.
— This is amazing news. Thank you very much," I was relieved to think that the lightning hadn't burned my brains out after all.
— You're welcome, — her voice warmed up, I'm sure she's smiling now. — It was nice talking to you.
What a strange confession! Those who liked talking to me could be counted on the fingers of one hand. And there would still be a margin of two fingers ... however, you should not take everything so literally. It's just common politeness—I didn't show myself to her in all my irritable glory.
I hear clicks, and then the noise of the door. The clicks... didn't seem to be double.
"Is there still someone here?" I guess out loud.
— Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot ... — there is some embarrassment in the voice. "I've just never seen anyone like you."
— People who would have survived a lightning strike? I suggested. — I haven't seen it yet either. If I'm very lucky, maybe I'll see it in the mirror in three days. Are the burns really bad?
— Yes, they were terrible... but we fixed everything!
—Thanks,— I smile.
Well, "everything was fixed"... there are no such ways that could cure deep burns. I'll probably be covered in scars. If only my eyesight would return! I will never listen to that inner voice again. Touch the zipper, touch the zipper... touch it! Heh, it's rough... it turned out funny.
— What are you laughing at? "What is it?" she asks with genuine curiosity.
—On my own thoughts," I replied, after I had finished laughing. — Don't pay attention. Sometimes you look at your actions after a while — and only laughter gets through.
— Um... I see.
By the way.
— Why are you here? Are you one of the medical staff?
— I'm Sister Cross, I'm looking out for you. If you need anything, you won't be able to press the button.
—Nice," I smiled.
Wow! Where did I get to? The hospital is clearly not one of the last.
— Thank you, of course, but if I need anything, I can shout. You don't have to watch over me all the time.
— Nothing will be heard outside the ward.
"Well then... maybe you'll just check on me, say, once an hour?"
— Am I bothering you? There is a slight note of sadness in his voice.
— No, I just think that you have more important things to do than look at my motionless body. It's boring.
—Okay, I'll visit you once an hour," I think I hear a smile in her voice again. It is true that if one of the senses fails, then the rest become sharper. — Oh, excuse me for asking, but what do you eat? Dinner is coming soon…
"What are you eating?" If I hadn't regained my understanding of the language, I would have already decided that I had been taken to another country. The hospital is really very high-level... I hope staying in it will not cost me a lot.
— Anything, — I did not invent any frills. — I'm not picky.
— Good! — it seemed that my interlocutor was pleased with this. Clicks, the sound of a door... and complete silence.
Mmm, my favorite is the deep, jam-thick silence. And the darkness, which I have never seen before in my life... hmm, is it possible to see the darkness? Oh, it doesn't matter... something makes me sleepy.
I woke up feeling like something had changed in my surroundings. Turning my head warily, I strained all my remaining senses to identify exactly what was going on. The room is quiet, but still somehow less quiet than before. The smells... are the same. The skin is sore. Oh, I can feel my body! No, it's later, it's just that I don't wake up.
"Is there someone here?" I asked uncertainly and literally felt with my skin that I had guessed right. Damn, if this continues, I'll start imagining myself using echolocation as a bat.
Strange. The longer I listened, the more two feelings grew in me. One confidently stated: "You're right, and there's someone here!" The other insisted no less confidently that I was dreaming.
—Come on, really," I decided to bluff. "You didn't just come to admire me, did you?"
— Indeed, — a deep, sensual contralto... the voice is both strong and, at the same time, soft as velvet. When the last sound disappeared into thin air, my audiophile nature demanded only one thing: more!
— Then... read some poem. You are welcome.
— What?! There was immense surprise in the beautiful voice. — Why?!
- Mmm... just like that? — I decided that giving the true reason would be too much like an unscrupulous flirtation.
— Just like that?! her voice sounds almost indignant, but then she laughs. "You're a strange creature.
— I won't argue with the obvious, but maybe it's still a poem? — I give my request a jokingly pleading intonation. Since they called it a "strange creature", then we must match it. — A beautiful poem for a poor blind cripple?
— Okay, okay, — I think I amused her. — And what should it be about?
— It doesn't matter, but if possible, it's more authentic.
"Well, listen," a mischievous note slipped into her voice, and then she began to read…
Oh-oh-oh! It's an amazing feeling… She also reads in another language, which I didn't dare ask for, and it was like I was back at the first concert of the season of the bolshoi symphony orchestra, in the new Philharmonic... goosebumps run down my spine, both from the sound and from the intonation. I was so taken aback that I didn't even immediately notice when the room became quiet again.
—Uh, that was..." I quickly find the right word. — It's exciting. Thank you. Thank you very much.
— Do you understand what it's about? — my interlocutor was surprised.
"I didn't understand a word of it," I said honestly.
"Then what are you thanking me for?" — this time she is at a loss.
— I got what I asked for, — I smiled like a cat who had eaten sour cream. — You have a magical voice.
— The voice? She seems to be barely holding back her laughter. — So you asked me to read a verse just to listen to my voice?
— I immediately liked the sound. Of course, I understand that this is arrogance, but maybe... but maybe you can read me something else?
In response, she burst out laughing, sincerely and selflessly. Even her laugh sounds nice, and I find myself smiling again.
"You really are a strange creature," her voice still echoed with laughter. — Maybe, but another time.
"I'll be looking forward to it,— I nodded.
Door noise, clicks, door noise, silence. I enjoyed the echoes of her visit for a while before a simple thought brought me to my senses.
— Why did she come at all? I muttered to myself.
And, as soon as I broke away from my dreams, my body reminded me of itself. The skin burns and itches mercilessly. The entire left side of my body seemed to be mercilessly bitten by mosquitoes while I was sleeping, but this is tolerable, but my right arm itches unbearably up to the elbow! But I couldn't scratch properly. Although my hands obeyed me now, they were so ridiculously bad that even to bend my fingers, I had to make remarkable efforts. Naturally, instead of the furious stroke I needed, I got only a gentle, uncertain stroking, which made the itching even worse. I stopped trying with a groan — I wanted the best, but it turned out as always. Now my hands are like cast iron. I need a distraction. At least for something. For anything! Oh, oh, how it itches… Where's my player? Oh no, no! Surely my things are somewhere else! If there's anything left of them after the lightning strike.
—Holy shit,— I said grimly.
There was absolutely nothing to distract myself without a player and sweet-voiced visitors. Even the hospital clock, which usually ticks as if the mechanism inside is from Big Ben. Silence. Darkness. And the fucking itch!
"So you won't touch the lightning next time," I hissed through my teeth. — Look, it sounds tempting to him…
Although it would be great to scratch. Like a ball of pumice stone. Nah, don't think about it! You'll just want to itch even more.…
I had to endure it for a long time. For a very long time. It took at least several hours before I fell back into a life-saving sleep.
I wake up again, but this time the visitor is not hiding, although he seems to be trying not to wake me up. Yeah, it's a dead number... I just wake up from someone else's presence, and now it's being given out by quiet, quiet clicks.
— Who's here? I asked calmly.
—Oh, you're awake now," Nurse Cross said. — Did I wake you up?
—What time is it?" I asked. — It's always night for me.
— Early morning. It was just dawn.
— Oh. Okay, — I listen to my body. The unbearable itching has almost gone away, and now I feel only a faint, faint, slightly painful tingling, as if I gently stroked a nettle. — Can I have some water?
— Of course, — she brings the glass to my lips again, but now I gently intercept it with my hand. — Oh, you can move now…
For a second, it seemed to me that there was a shadow of fear in her voice. Why would that be? Oh... my burns must look disgusting.
— How long have I been here? — that's right, I didn't ask about it yesterday.
— You were found the day before yesterday.
— The day before yesterday? I was amazed.
After finishing the water in one gulp, I found a horizontal surface next to me and put the glass on it, and after that I felt my right hand. Smooth skin. No scars. I touch my cheek, then run my fingers over my shoulder—just smooth skin. Perhaps even too smooth, not a single hair. But no scars either!
— It's amazing.
- what? The shadow of fear in Nurse Cross's voice had already disappeared.
"I don't have any burn marks on me. I thought there would be scars or something.… You are real wizards!
"We have the best doctors in the world," she confirmed proudly.
I'm more and more wondering where am I? Maybe I was mistaken for someone else, and now I'm lying in a VIP hospital? Perhaps I'll leave this question for later, now something else is more important.…
"Sister, could you walk me to the bathroom?"
— Oh, of course. Can you stand up?
— I think I can, but I haven't checked yet... — I swung my legs off the bed and was surprised to find that it was unusually low, as if it were a child's. Rising unsteadily, I struggled with a bout of dizziness for a couple of moments, and then took a step forward, feeling the space in front of me with my hands. — Yes, I definitely can. Where to go?
She tugged at the sleeve of my robe. It's strange, why not just take me by the elbow, well, or by the shoulder... however, she knows better.
The toilet seemed a little big to me, but its functionality was not affected. After flushing (for some reason, the good old rope flushes were in use here instead of modern push-button ones) and washing my hands in a somehow low-hanging sink, I returned to the ward, touching the wall with my fingertips.
"Sister Cross?" I called softly. — Are you still here?
— Of course.
"I think I missed dinner last night,— I smiled sheepishly in the direction of her voice. — And now I'm very hungry.
— Wait a couple of minutes, I'll get something ... - she left, and I headed towards the bed, uncertainly feeling the floor and the air in front of me.
The desired piece of furniture was found quickly enough, although I took it a little to the left than necessary. Sitting back, I began to feel the blindfold.
Hmm... interesting. It's made of fabric so soft and breathable that I can't feel it on my head. Not very wide, wound in two or three layers, no more. It's even strange that she doesn't let a single grain of light through. Either she misses it, but I don't see anything. An unpleasant thought.
However, what did I want? What my father taught me was to be responsible for my actions. Stroking the zipper is his own fault. It is possible that you will have to get a guide dog and walk with a light telescopic wand ... a third of the beauty of the world! That's what my fleeting wish cost me.
— Your breakfast, — a series of clicks, and something flat gently landed on my lap, - I hope this will suit you.
— Thank you, — thanking the nurse, I sniffed at the plate. — Judging by the smell, I'll even like it.
They turned out to be flatbreads with incredibly delicious fruit jam. I couldn't get enough of them, but the hunger receded. I got out of bed again to go wash my hands, and this time I did without the help of a nurse, which did not go unnoticed by her.
"And you are surprisingly ... graceful,— Cross says with a smile in his voice, when I almost confidently returned to bed. — I would probably tear down everything that is not fixed if I could not see.
"I can imagine how 'graceful' I am right now," I snorted. — I walk like a wounded snail, and even feel the air with my hands. Thank you, of course, for your kind words, but you are exaggerating.
"I just said what I thought," she seemed a little offended. I didn't have time to apologize to her, because the door opened and someone new entered the room. I turned my head at the noise.
— How are you feeling? — Yeah, this is my doctor. — I see you can move now.
— good. It itched terribly last night, but I feel much better now.
— That's fine. Do your eyes hurt?
— No, but I don't see anything.
"It's okay," she assured me. — The bandage does not let in any light. Doesn't it bake your eyes?
"No, everything else is fine," I smiled at her.
—Wonderful," she says with obvious pleasure. — If you need anything, you can contact us.
— Yes, something. Do you know where my clothes are?
She thought for a second. — To be honest, I don't know. You were brought to us without her, probably she was cut off at the local hospital. You were found on the outskirts of the forest in the center of the fire that started, so you were given first aid there.
"I see,— I replied. The player is not available to me. If he's even still alive. — Thank you.
— You're welcome. Are you able to walk already?
— Of course, — I got up and walked along the already familiar "bed-toilet-bed" route. — As far as I can tell from my unprofessional point of view, my body is fine.
"You're recovering very quickly," she replied in surprise. — Probably, the bandage can be removed tomorrow. Do you mind visitors?
"Who's there?" — I sigh heavily, having guessed. — If it's one of my relatives, could you tell that I'm asleep? They'll worry too much about the bandage, and... I'd rather wait for it to be taken off.
—No, they're definitely not your relatives," the doctor hastened to assure me. She seemed very amused by the possibility. — They asked not to say who they are.
—Good," I smiled. — You intrigued me. I don't mind visits at all, on the contrary. I must admit, I'm desperately bored.
— Then I'll write to them that you don't mind. And now, please forgive me.…
Judging by the clicks, she left with Sister Cross. By the way, I'll have to ask her what the doctor's name is. I wonder what kind of clicks accompany them? It's like some kind of shoe prints. Maybe it's for blind people like me to warn that someone is approaching? It is quite possible.
I sit back down on the bed, no thoughts in my head. Boredom is slowly beginning to creep up. Hmm, I wonder what the blind do for fun? Music, books... nothing else comes to mind. Am I going to stay like this forever? Goosebumps ran down my spine, and somewhere in front of my inner eye there was an image of the unstoppable power of an approaching train. I felt a faint echo of delight.
No, no, no... I won't think about it yet.
The door opened and I turned my head towards the sound, making it clear that I was awake. It's unlikely that while I'm in a blindfold, it can be defined in any other way. Hmm... and who could it be? There's no need for Cross and the doctor to come back, so maybe these are my mysterious visitors. They rushed over quickly.
Silence. Exactly the same as yesterday, but now I had no doubts about someone else's presence.
"I have deja vu," I said. — If you understand what I mean, read the poem.
A muffled chuckle. And silence again.
"Luna, aren't you going to answer him?" An unfamiliar voice asked, and I swam again. No, nothing to do with the one at night, except that it's also female. But completely different. Soft and melodious, rich in overtones, it looked like weightless silk, but at the same time it was warm and affectionate, like a downy scarf. Another chuckle brought me to my senses.
— The moon!
"I don't mind at all if you talk to me,— I said quickly. — But first, if it's not too much trouble, can you read some verse?
— A verse? The owner of the voice was clearly taken aback by my request, but when she answered, there was already a familiar mischievous note in her voice. — No, I'm afraid I have to refuse this request.
"Please,— I begged. — It's not even too long. You are welcome.
"He seemed to like your voice as much as mine, Sister," I recognized my late—night visitor. "How can you refuse this little request?"
Is it just me, or is she egging her on?
— So you like my voice? The one who is not the Moon asked me curiously, ignoring her sister's teasing.
—Very much,— I answered honestly.
— And you ask everyone whose voice you like to read poetry to you? There was a hint of laughter in her voice.
— N-no, I usually don't ask anyone for anything at all, — I suddenly came to my senses and realized the wildest idiocy of my requests. Feeling myself blushing, I bit my cheek. — I'm sorry. Having lost my sight, I became too addicted to sounds.
— And who has a better voice? Luna asked sarcastically.
— It's hard to compare. They are different, but both are beautiful. Yours is like aventurine," I nodded in the direction from which Luna's voice was coming. — And your sister's is like amber.
They laughed merrily. They seemed to like the comparisons.
"So you're the visitors I was warned about?" I asked resolutely, trying to finish the topic of strange requests as quickly as possible. — I am very pleased that you decided to visit me, but I have no idea who you are. And even though I don't see you, I know for sure that I haven't met you before.
"Yes, we wanted to visit you as soon as we had the opportunity," no-Moon's voice became more serious. — Could you answer a few questions?
Yeah... questions. Apparently, these girls are police officers.
— Of course, — I also tuned in to a serious mood.
She sighed and asked the first question. — Do you know where you are now?
"In the hospital,— I replied confidently. Luna chuckled, but her sister didn't seem to pay any attention to it.
— Do you know where this hospital is located?
— I have no idea. All I know is that she's the best, and they didn't find me here.
— What is the last thing you remember?
— I was relaxing in the forest, swimming in a geothermal spring during a thunderstorm. I was struck by lightning there.
Actually, it's not exactly like that, but going through a bunch of psychiatrists and staying in the hospital for God knows how long I didn't like it at all. I'm really not suicidal. I was actually struck by lightning. I don't remember exactly, but it seems that I was also hit from above, and not just by a ball lightning explosion. Nothing surprising, perhaps. Most likely, touching her changed my charge strongly enough to attract another discharge from the sky. So I didn't tell a single lie.
"After that, I woke up here," I finished my extremely short story.
— Thank you, — there was deep thoughtfulness in my interlocutor's voice. — What's your name?
— My name is... — there was an unpleasant twinge in my head. — My name is... hmm. Oh, damn it. I do not remember. It's on the tip of my tongue… But I can't remember.
— Do you remember the rest of your life?
I mentally ran through the memories.
"I remember,— I said confidently. — I think I'll remember the name too, it's just some kind of freak, after a lightning strike. And what is your name?
— Celestia. And my sister Luna is also here.
—Celestia and the Moon,— I said. — A little... strange names. But, they suit your voices.
However, it's not for me to talk about the strangeness. I don't remember my name, hello, we've arrived. It is not surprising that other people's names sound "somehow wrong."
— Thank you, — a smile in his voice. — Now we will leave you for a while.
— So you're going to leave me without poetry? I asked jokingly in the end.
"Unless the Moon decides to stay late..." replied Celestia sarcastically.
— Really? I asked hopefully.
"No," Luna laughs. "We really have to go."
"It's a pity," I sighed. — Well, it was nice to meet you.
The door closed behind them, and I sank back into silence and boredom.
***
"He doesn't seem to realize where he really is," Celestia said as they walked away from the room. "He thinks he's surrounded by his kind.
"It looks like it,— her sister agreed. "When your student put the knowledge of Equestrian into his head, this illusion only strengthened. Maybe our worlds aren't that different, since he hasn't noticed anything yet.
—Perhaps,— Celestia sighed. — It's too early to talk about it yet. We must wait until the bandage is removed from him.
— I hope his reaction won't be too violent.
— So what did he say about poetry? The voice of the eldest of the Alicorn sisters became a little snide. "You didn't mention anything like that when you dragged me here."
— You saw everything yourself, — Luna was a little embarrassed. — He did almost the same thing with you.
— Only I refused, — the sarcasm in his voice became a little more.
— He stunned me with his request! And besides, he begged so fervently... didn't you feel sorry for him?
— This is not a reason to follow the lead of a creature from another world. Did you try to look into his dreams yesterday?
— I wanted to, but he never slept after I started watching him. Perhaps his kind doesn't sleep at all.
—It's strange... the unicorns didn't mention anything like that.
***
Yesterday's impatience seized me as soon as I woke up, only now it was mixed with a slight fear. Although Cair (that was my doctor's name) was absolutely sure that I would be able to see, the closer the time for removing the bandage approached, the more nervous I became. Almost like before graduation.
Finally, the time had come—I realized this when a whole council entered my room... judging by the clicks that resembled frantic castanets.
"Well," Dr. Care said with a kind of exaggerated enthusiasm, "it's time to take off your bandage.
"On the one hand, I can't wait, on the other hand, it's scary," I sighed. — But let's not delay this. Can I take pictures?
"The first time it will have to be done in a dark place so that the light doesn't burn your eyes."
— Oh, that's how ... well, lead on, — I got to my feet.
"It would probably be better if we drove you," says a familiar voice.
"Oh, Luna, you're here too," I said, a little surprised. — I'm pleased, of course, but why?
"Just in case," the girl replied evasively. "My sister and her student are also here.
A sister and a student. Hmm, maybe they're not police officers, but just senior doctors?
— How much attention, — I was a little embarrassed. — Is my case so interesting from a medical point of view?
"To some extent," Luna evaded the question.
"Hello, Celestia," I said, only to hear her magical voice in response.
— Hello, — judging by the audible smile, she understood my motivation perfectly. "You still don't remember your name?"
—Nah,— I said cheerfully. — Yesterday, half a day after you left, I tried to remember until my head hurt. I decided that it would come with time. Won't you tell me?
"I don't know him," Celestia said with a smile.
—Oh... okay.
It's true, I didn't have anything with me that could identify my identity. The tablet is encrypted, and I didn't have any paper documents with me.
"Then perhaps you could introduce me to your student?" I asked.
"I thought you already knew each other,— Celestia said, a little surprised.
— Really?
— I helped you with knowledge, — the familiar voice faltered, — that is, with understanding the language.
—Oh, yes, I'll find out," I smiled. "Dr. Care called you Twilight, I think."
- yes. My name is Twilight Sparkle.
— I'm sorry, I can't tell you my name yet, — I spread my hands and smiled. — But I have a good reason.
"It's okay, I'll wait," she seems to smile back at me, too.
— I talked to you, and the jitters passed. Doctor, I'm ready. Where's my stroller?
They gently pulled me by the edge of my robe and sat me down in a wheelchair. Like everything else in this hospital, it was a little low, but I had already come to terms with this feature. Maybe I'm just disoriented?
They rolled me somewhere, lowered me on the elevator (it fell down so abruptly, as if the cable had broken, I suddenly clutched the arms of the chair so tightly that they creaked plaintively) and took me to some room. It seems to be quite spacious — I was wheeled for another thirty seconds before the stroller stopped.
— Are you ready? Dr. Care asked with some apprehension in her voice.
"More than ever,— I lied flatly in response.
The bandage slipped gently over my face, and I opened my eyes. It was dark in the room, but even the light that is in it now is enough to hurt my eyes a little. After absolute darkness, the candle will seem like the sun.
— I see it! I was glad to note. — It's cloudy, but I still see it!
— Now we will gradually turn on the lamps so that your eyes can adjust, — the concern in Dr. Care's voice only increased.
—All right,— I agreed enthusiastically. — Come on. And don't worry so much, Doc, I can really see the outline of the hall.
— Okay. If you suddenly feel uncomfortable, tell me.
A few more weak lights came on. The light became twice as much, and the eyes quickly adapted to it. I look at my hand — the outlines are still cloudy, as if there are no visible boundaries between me and the surrounding space.
— Doc! I said loudly. — You can turn on the light faster, I'm fine.
She didn't answer, but a few more lights came on. There was enough light to make the objects finally clear. I waited a few more seconds.
— Let's do it again!
She seemed to understand the speed of my addiction, and now the lights were getting brighter and brighter. I realized that we were in the hospital gym—a huge room with the curtains drawn.
— Doc, can I lift the curtains?
— Are your eyes all right?
"It couldn't be better," I assured her.
The curtains on all the windows, one by one, began to open, as if invisible hands pulled them in different directions with a sharp movement. The gym was flooded with bright sunlight. I squinted slightly, but my eyes instantly adjusted to him. I see. I SEE IT!
— URRRRAAA!!! I jumped to my feet with a shout of joy and leapt to the nearest window. — I SEE IT! I SEE IT! JESS!!!
I looked out the window eagerly. Bright greenery, beautiful blue sky, horizon... I've never been so happy in my life as I am now! I turned on my heel and ran to hug Dr. Care. However, I did not reach my wheelchair even half the distance that I ran to the window. Because there was a group of... horses behind that carriage?
I decided to ignore it. I don't like to fall for other people's jokes. — Dr. Care, where are you?
"I'm here," one of the horses, a dark pink one with a purple short mane and tail, came forward, but did not come close to me, stopping at a sufficient distance, as if to run a little.
— Ah... ha.
To say that I am confused is to say nothing. What the hell is this? There are two most likely explanations. I confidently walked towards the horse, but it began to retreat backwards from me at the same speed.
— Nameless one, what are you doing? Celestia's stern voice called out to me. — You're scaring her.
—I'm sorry," I stopped dead in my tracks and turned towards the voice. "I just need to make sure of something."
— I am ready to personally help you with this, — a snow-white mare, at least twice as tall as Dr. Care, came out of the diverse formation of horses and slowly headed in my direction.
I couldn't help but admire — the large and powerful body gave the impression of lightness and grace, despite its size... I suddenly thought that her confident approach to me would be good for the song "Dusya-aggregate" [ https://youtu.be/S4I095lWaLE ], but I tried to put this thought out of my head. She stopped right in front of me, her mane the color of the morning aurora continued to float in the air, as if caught by an invisible wind. The special effect, however… Shifting my gaze to her muzzle, I was faced with a determined look from violet eyes. And she's tall! Her eyes are only slightly shorter than mine, and I'm five feet two tall. And the muzzle does not look at all like a horse's... so, stop, do not look at it. The more details I remember, the worse it may be for me later. Wow, what a horn she has! The length of my arm, no less... ah! Don't look! I'll fix the image!
I closed my eyes and put my hand on her neck. Unconsciously, I lightly stroke the warm fur. I must say that Celestia reacted stoically to my actions. She didn't even twitch.
I made sure that my palm was pressed tightly against her throat. "You're Celestia, aren't you?"
Bli-I-in... I opened my eyes. She continued to look at me with an expression of confident calmness and mild curiosity.
— What did I do when you came to me yesterday?
"He asked me to read you a poem," she smiled.
I took my hand away. Holy shit. That's what she says. The sound vibrates in her throat, and her lips articulate, forming words. And she doesn't look like a horse so much that it's a prank. The simplest option disappears.
"Thank you, Celestia,— I said in a dejected voice. — I hope my actions didn't seem too crazy to you.
"Maybe a little weird," she smiled mischievously.
I walked like a zombie to the wheelchair and carefully sat down in it. — Dr. Care? I'm sorry for scaring you.
"N—it's okay,— she cautiously approached. She was the smallest of the group—even sitting on a low wheelchair, I was taller than her.
Dr. Care, I think I should be transferred to a psychiatric ward.
- what? — the doctor was taken aback.
— It seems ... — I took a deep breath, internally resigned to the fact that I was here for a long time. — It seems that I have complex hallucinations. Vision and touch are definitely affected.
— What makes you think that? — there is a clear shock on her face.
"Instead of you, Celestia, and the others, I see... uh... colorful talking horses. You articulate, I can understand your emotions, touches cause feelings of fur, everything is in accordance with my expectations. I wanted to touch you just to make sure. I'm sorry again for scaring you, I must have looked crazy.
— What did you expect to see, nameless one? Celestia came up to me. Now, when I'm sitting, she towers over me like a tower. With a spire.
—People like me," I looked up at her in disbelief. — Certainly not colorful ponies.
— I want to reassure you, you will not need the services of a psychiatrist, — she smiled at me tenderly, as if to an old friend. "Because we are the colorful ponies.
— Really? I frowned.
—Absolutely,— Celestia assured me.
He's not lying. I felt a completely idiotic smile spread across my face.
"Dr. Care, are you a pony too?"
—Yes,— she answers me, confused.
I smiled even wider and got up from the wheelchair. He approached a black mare with an ethereal mane the color of the night sky. She is noticeably shorter than Celestia, the tip of her horn is somewhere at the level of my chest. "Are you a pony too?"
—Yes, I'm a pony too," she confirms to me in the voice of the Moon.
"Wonderful," I admired and squatted down next to the lavender unicorn so that our eyes were about the same height, after which I approved. — And you're a pony.
"And I'm a pony,— she smiled at me sincerely.
I got back on my feet, walked to the wheelchair, collapsed into it and, still with the same smile, declared into space:
— That's a shizya-ya-yak…
