Читать книгу The forest’s legends - Natali Stoyanov - Страница 3

A white unicorn MirrEl seemed silver in the moonlight. His silent figure, his power and greatness, beauty and beauteousness made him the most amazing of all fantasy creatures. The appearance of a unicorn was always surprising. Both MirrEl and his friend Yarok, kept an eye on the manner, the laws and the natural phenomena. Both served faithfully and devotedly to others, although they were the wisest among these mountains. They understood every whisper of the forest and all halftones of the sky symbols well.

And suddenly both felt that something should have happened now. Perhaps that idea occurred because of the fact that birds suddenly became silent, or perhaps because of dump cold air and fog that unexpectedly shielded the part of the lake.

– I think we have an uninvited guest – Yarok grumbled and his feathers bristled.

– Yes, it seems that – MirrEl said quietly. – The cold fog is loyal companion of Sytr-Akhr *.

– I would not like to deal with this evil sorcerer. He’d better sit on his swamps!

– Who is hiding behind this fog? Whoever it is, come out! – MirrEl said powerfully and at the same time quietly.

The watchful eagle owl peered intensely into the fog for a few seconds trying to identify the intruder according to the characteristic contours but only the black water could be seen. The crystal water’s azure became blue-black under the willow plant. Suddenly it was covered with small ripples and the reflection became completely blurred. Yarok strained like a warrior who is ready to throw himself into battle with an enemy. A moment later a black swan came out of the fog that disarmed the guard with her grandeur and pompousness.

– Wow! – it was the one thing that Yarok could only breathe in amazement.

His eyes were perfectly round and swan’s amazing dance reflected in them like in a mirror. The circle patterns spread on the surface of the lake that looked like the black lace. She approached slowly and her dance was like precise movements of the brush in the hands of an artist who paints in watercolours. But the artist could display only a moment but the swan was like a soft melody… Can the words describe a dance?! It is beyond the words!

– Who are you? Tell us your name – MirrEl broke the silence gently.

Yarok was pleased to hear this question like no other. Beauty always affected him hypnotically, so he was a little afraid of that what he saw was the part of sorcery. Thus, it was something in the swan’s dance that Yarok could not understand. As if it was the usual moves in a circle and his heart sank in anticipation of premonition of Secret. Swan’s outlines, consisting of curved lines, drew very lightsome silhouette in all its details. She just floated slowly gliding on the water. Quiet and silent. The swan knew about something incomprehensible, about the Secret, Yarok was powerless to know it. The eagle owl felt unintelligible anxiety but he did not raise the troops. He froze with wide-opened eyes and enjoyed the beauty of the dance.