Swan Lake

Diana

Fiery darkness covered the gloomy dungeon, but Odile was not afraid of either darkness, or fire, or the evil creatures of the night that lived here, she herself was a princess of darkness and evil.

She walked down a long spiral staircase that led deep into the earth, her long hair gleaming black gold in the light of the burning torches. Her eyes were sad, she could not cope with the grief of the first and impossible love for Prince Christian.

Odile walked quietly and soundlessly, no one could notice her, lately one thought and one name that haunted her was spinning in her head - Diana.

Who was her mother? Her dream, her love? She remembered only one moment in her life: the dazzling sheen of golden hair, a face strikingly similar to her own. She herself does not know what she is doing here. Until recently, she was lying in a warm downy bed, surrounded by maids. From the open balcony she could hear the wonderful smell of night roses, and now she found herself in a dark dungeon, and she herself did not understand where she had entered.

Odile knew that every night her father disappears into the unknown and returns only towards morning. Where he spent all those nights, what secrets he hid from her, and why she never had a mother, why her father never told about her. Everything remained a mystery without a clue. Odile was a brave girl and was not afraid of any trials, she walked boldly up the steps, which had no end or edge.

The staircase ended. A gloomy hall appeared before her, it was lit by several burning candles. Odile could make out a table and shelves with many books in black bindings, a skull of a man on a table heaped with papers lined with mysterious diagrams, and a corpse of a young girl on the floor.

In a circle outlined by ten lights, with a five-pointed star drawn in it. her father stood, all in black and with a strikingly changed face. His eyes burned as brightly as the huge bonfire in front of him. On the dais, in front of his head, lay a large book, painted in scarlet ink, more like blood. The sheets of this book were more like human skin. They were painted with whimsical signs and Gothic letters. Odile was smart enough to learn occult rituals and witchcraft books, and to understand that she was not just having a night's entertainment.

Rothbert stood in the middle of the hall. His hands were folded in witchcraft prayer. He easily, like a feather, lifted the corpse of the girl lying in front of him and cut the throat of the corpse, From it, as if by magic, a trickle of blood flowed. The king of the dark forces poured blood on the witchcraft book, which immediately eagerly devoured it.

The girl's corpse fell to the floor and shattered into thousands of pieces, like a glass statue. A pool of hot human blood remained on the floor, and at the same moment Rothbert's hands turned into eagle's wings, his head became monstrous, he turned into a huge deadly bird.

“Rise from death,” everyone whispered around, and suddenly a pale white shadow appeared from the gravestone, illuminated by bright lights, and slid into the arms of the monster, it was a girl in a white dress.

“Forgive me,” the inhuman creature whispered, but there was no answer, it was the secret of his love, which Odile unwittingly and accidentally learned.

Looking at the two figures, monstrous and beautiful, Odile saw the girl's face, and almost screamed, it was her face.

“No!” burst out from Odile, and she rushed forward. At that very moment everything disappeared, she stood in complete darkness in front of a huge kite with a golden crown on a black head.

“My mother,” Odile shouted in despair, “what have you done to my mother?”

But there was no need for an answer, she already knew everything, there was nothing more to hide. The black king of evil hissed in a human voice:

“You have learned my secret, and I have known yours for a long time, you must pay tribute to my witchcraft.”

“What?” burst out from Odile.

“Life of Prince Christian!” as in a nightmare spread over her head. Odile woke up, she saw what happened to her as a child, and now she was sitting in the luxurious royal bedroom in front of the dressing table and looked in the round mirror on the table.

From there the most beautiful face in the whole world looked at her, but this beauty was cursed, she was the princess of black swans and the queen of evil. She was luxuriously dressed, showered with jewelry. In front of her on the dressing table lay, as in a fairy tale, golden combs and jewelry, and several beautiful maidservants scurried alongside her, carrying out her every order.

All the girls were dressed in black dresses, on which a small plumage of swan down sparkled, they were all enchanted swan girls and none of them could get rid of their curse, like their beautiful princess in love with a common man.

Two girls combed her long hair with golden combs and weaved precious ornaments and night violets into them, their hands were delicate and skillful, but every day they were condemned to turn into the wings of black swans.

Odile looked at the lush black dress for the ball, which another servant brought her, no, today she did not want to wear it, did not want to perform the witchcraft and rituals that accompanied her every night, she looked in the mirrors at her face for the last time, at the silk of black hair that poured and sparkled in the hands of the girls - swans and got up to go out onto the balcony.

There was a scent of roses, sweet, fragrant and tender, like the love of the one she had lost, but Odile knew that Christian's heart would always belong to her and to no one else, because it was true love.

Odile looked down at the castle moat, it was not at all needed in the enchanted castle, but it still existed as another deadly barrier for those who dare to look at the vast personal possessions of King Rothbert.

The black swan will fly to the balcony and sit on Odile's arm. The princess smiled and stroked its smooth black head. The black birds were her only friends, apart from the one whom the whole world feared and who was called the golden dragon.

Odile dismissed the bird. and she soared into the high night sky. Odile returned to the room. Suddenly, while Odile turned away from the mirror, it was covered with river waves, and from them the bony, clawed hand of a red witch appeared. She grabbed the golden comb, and at that moment Odile felt as if someone pulled her hair with force. She screamed, but the red-haired witch was already standing in front of her.

“What do you want?” Odile asked imperiously and sternly.

The eyes of the red-haired witch flashed with angry fire.

“You must break Prince Etienne's heart,” she said and disappeared into the darkness, but it was an order of the dark forces.

Odile turned to the blue sky, but now it seemed darker than ever. She had to do another dark deed, and there was no end to them. Before her, as if in reality, as if the reproach of fate itself, the face of Christian appeared, and Odile sighed sadly.

The day was drawing to a close as Christian rode through the woods on his trusty horse. He knew where he was going, but that didn't scare him. He may have been insane, but he was driving to the enchanted castle to catch a glimpse of her, Princess Odile. Who knew if she remembered him or had already forgotten her promise at the hour of their separation, His love for her remained unchanged, but whether a trace of his love remained in the beauty's heart, or she had already forgotten him and rushed into a world full of secrets and witchcraft.

Christian looked sadly at the blue sky. He was handsome, courageous, noble, but did it matter for the proud beauty he loved? His life was intertwined with her memory. He never managed to forget her, forget her green eyes, her wondrous smile and the cold tear that ran down Odile's face at the hour of their parting.

She was an unearthly princess, he knew this, but still there was a faint hope in his soul, so he boldly rode forward.

He drove for a long time. The clear sunlight disappeared from the tops of the trees, and soon the forest was to be plunged into total darkness. He had to find a refuge for the night, but nowhere was there a house or a tavern, and what he could expect from the borders of the kingdom of evil. A wet drizzle began to drizzle, here he looked so much like curly snowflakes, but soon he promised to turn into hail. Christian did not know where to hide from the bad weather at least for a while.

Suddenly, in the distance, behind the trees, Christian saw a gap, some vague ray slid over the foliage and opened him a view of a huge clearing. Where could it appear among the dense forest? Christian drove out into the clearing, and a small old mill appeared in his eyes. Probably, no one lived in it, and who would have lived here, among the dense forest, but Christian did not care where to hide from the rain, and he drove forward to a random shelter.

The mill was old and abandoned. The place is gloomy, but it's still better to spend the night in it than in the forest with hungry wolves and other wild animals. The old mill was at least some, albeit poor, shelter, and he was determined to spend the night here.

The cold wind rocked the wheel of the mill, Christian plucked up courage and entered the creaky door. He stopped at the doorway. The room was large and dark, with no signs of life. The table and chairs were covered with cobwebs, The eyes of a huge spider on the table burned with evil lights. Christian had no choice but to enter.

The floor creaked under his feet, and the echo of his steps echoed in the dead silence of the old mill as if they were the first sounds here in many hundreds of years, but, probably, someone had lived here before, otherwise, where did all these old things could come from.

Dishes were placed on the dilapidated shelves, the tablecloth on the table had long since faded and decayed, there was no trace of its former life, except for dilapidated walls and some things, as if the people who lived in the house had left it in a hurry and forgot everything that was they had.

A pair of bats flew off the ceiling and quickly swept directly over his head so that he barely had time to bend down to avoid an unwanted collision with the evil messengers of the dark forces.

A stone staircase led upstairs to the second floor of the mill, where people probably used to work, but now everything was abandoned. Who could live at the mill7 Christian could have assumed only one thing, but his assumption that the mill was once inhabited by ordinary peasants was incorrect. The prince walked around the whole room, where semi-darkness reigned, everything here was old and dilapidated, but once all these things shone, once life was in full swing here, although not a trace of it remained, but something else reminded of it.

Christian was about to climb the stairs, but suddenly noticed a small niche in the wall. right at the opposite end of the room. In it he saw a small door, but where she could lead, it intrigued, and Christian went there. He stopped at a niche, which was dirty and dusty, but it was still possible to discern strange drawings and carvings on it, which is usually the case on the doors of a rich house. He touched the delicate carvings, which depicted strange patterns and figures covered with thin but strong cobwebs.

The door had neither a handle nor a ring, but no, the ring was attached to it, but it almost grew into the door, and it was impossible to tear it off.

Christian pushed the door open, but it didn't budge. Then he grabbed an iron poker from the floor by the old fireplace and pushed it against the door with all his might, but it still did not give in. This surprised him, but did not discourage him. He started a fire in the fireplace, and as soon as the flame flared up in it, the door creaked by itself and slowly opened. Some kind of trap? Taking a burning branch from the fireplace, Christian went to the door. The flames lit up a small room containing a small table on which lay a few dainty women's hair ornaments and combs. There was nothing more interesting in the room, Christian was about to turn back, but suddenly something creaked behind him, so loud and so long that he involuntarily stopped and looked back.

There was a small opening in the old wall at the level of his head, and a bundle was peering out from there. It seemed to be the only bright spot against a dark background. Christian walked over and thrust his hand into the hole, took out an old yellowed sheet of paper, rolled up into a long tube.

He unfurled it, but nothing was written there. Christian sighed in disappointment and held the piece of paper over the fire. Suddenly he saw small scarlet letters written in ink red as blood.

“I am writing this while dying,” said strange words on the yellowed paper, “but I consider it my duty to warn anyone who comes here, leave, a mad man who has stopped in this damned place, here anyone will accept his death and eternal damnation. I cannot write any further, my doom is close at hand, and I implore anyone who enters here to leave before your love becomes your death.

Christian finished reading. The door began to close slowly behind him. Another minute, and Christian would have remained locked up, but he managed to jump out of the closing door. The strange paper remained in his hands; he glanced at it and was about to scream in disgust. It was no longer paper that fell out of his hands, but the yellowed skin of a frog. Near the mill, near the swamp, there were probably many of them.

Hail drummed on the roof of the old building. Christian threw his few things next to the poor bunk by the wall and lay down there himself, of course it was not a luxurious royal bed in the palace, but everything could come in handy on the way, because his brother Etienne once roamed around the taverns, so why did not he spend the night in an abandoned mill. He pressed himself against the cold wall and fell asleep. In his dream, Christian heard a quiet voice whispering his name, for a moment he saw Odile's sad face in front of him. She stroked his silky hair with her hand, white as snow, at that moment it seemed to him that she loved him, but perhaps it was only a vision, a beautiful vision blurred in the haze of a disturbing dream.

The prince was awakened by a sharp sound, it was a clear tapping on the glass, but already long ago clogged with boards. He looked ahead and saw a black raven on the windowsill. How a bird could enter the house7 The window was tightly closed, even a breeze or a drop of rain could not penetrate here. Raven sat here on all rights, showing that he is the real owner of the house.

The raven was blue-black, its feathers polished to a shine, as if the sorcerous winds themselves were taking care of it. Its beak was as sharp as the tip of a dagger, and its eyes shone like two evil lights. On his head was a golden crown that shone like a crown.

The raven did not wait for a long time, he leaped from his place, flashed over the prince's head with lightning, having managed to cling to his shoulder with its claws. Blood spurted from the prince's shoulder, and the raven disappeared into no one knows where. The pain in the wound did not go away; Christian had never felt so much pain from a simple wound. He was wounded more than once in battles, more than once he was on the verge of death, but now such a sharp pain pierced his shoulder that he wanted to scream. He restrained himself, although it seemed to him that he had been wounded by a poisoned dagger.

He drew his sword, and as soon as the bird appeared again, he struck it with a blade in the neck. He was sure that he had killed the evil creature of the night, crimson blood froze on his sword, but a minute later the raven appeared again. What kind of magic it was, it could not rise from the dead.

The room became gloomy and dark, even darker than before, the fire in the fireplace had gone out, and now nothing further dispelled the darkness of the night. Christian remained in complete darkness, but he saw the eyes of the black raven who were trying to lure him to the stairs leading to the second floor of the old staircase.

Christian dashed down the slippery steps, tearing apart the cobwebs that crossed his path, and soon he was already on the second floor of a small house. It was just as dark here, but the light was pouring into the attic windows, and you could see something around you. Beside him, on the floor, he saw a golden ring, it shone in the darkness, filling everything around him with a faint light.

“This is Odile's ring, but now it will betrothed you not to a princess, but to death,” a triumphant and threatening voice sounded, and Christian involuntarily turned around. He saw a black raven in front of him, which sat down on the floor next to him, and its wings flashed with crimson fire.

The bird began to grow. Its wings increased until they reached a human height, the bird's head took on the shape of a human, only an aquiline nose remained on his ugly face, King Rothbert stood in front of Christian, in all his terrifying guise and threatened him with death.

“You wanted my daughter’s love, but now you will only get death,” he hissed, Christian drew his sword, but what could the strength of a man do against the witchcraft of the one who owned the dark world and the soul of the one that the young prince loved.

Rothbert chuckled, an ominous grimace twisting his face.

“I’ll tell you a story, prince,” he said mockingly, “you will consider it a fairy tale until you are convinced otherwise. At this very mill, where we are now standing, once lived a very beautiful girl with golden curls, blue eyes, she was almost as pretty as a princess. Her beauty blossomed quietly and calmly, she had nowhere to look for rivals, because there was no one around for miles. She was left alone, her parents died, and not a single person came to this quiet place where she lived. Her life passed slowly like a stream under the threshold of this mill, only now it has turned into a swamp and you want to know why?”

Rothbert scoffed at Christian and laughed with a deafening, sinister laugh, but the young prince was calm and gripped his sword tightly in his hand.

“And then one day,” continued Rothbert, “one day, a young baron drove into this quiet, deserted place. He was young, maybe even handsome, life promised him one happiness, but his grief was that he fell in love with a poor girl who lived in this mill. They met secretly, but the rich could not marry an ordinary beauty, no matter how much he loved her.

But there was one more thing, the girl did not know why her parents died, And everything was simple, no one had come to this mill for a long time, because the witch was executed here. This witch was the mother of our beauty. After her death, she appeared to her father and drowned him in the waters of a shallow river. One night there was a knock on the girl's door, the old woman asked for shelter from the rain, and the kind girl agreed to shelter the old woman for that night.

They sat for a long time at the same table that you saw on the first floor, they talked, and the beauty told the old woman about her unequal and hopeless love.

As soon as the conversation ended, and the girl went to the window to look at the rain, a ringing deafening laugh rang out behind her. She turned and saw in front of her, instead of an old woman, a young girl with a red scar on her neck.

"I am your mother, who was once executed for witchcraft," said the stranger, "and I came here for your life."

The witch drowned the girl in the very river that now surrounds the mill. When the baron arrived, an evil ghost lured him to the mill, before his death he wrote in his own blood the few lines that you managed to read, and then the witch drowned him in the river. Since then, the mill has been abandoned, the river, where two lovers died, turned into a swamp. Nobody comes to the mill, but this story is alive. You may think that she is a fiction, but soon you will see for yourself that this is not a fairy tale. Who knows, maybe your body will soon be found in the swamp too, with the prints of long thin fingers on your neck.”

Rothbert finished his story and laughed deafeningly, so that everything around him shook with his evil laugh. His story made an impression on Christian, but he did not let go of the sharp sword from his hand.

“The time of your death is approaching,” said Rothbert, “you shouldn't have come here, you would have lost only Odile's love, and now you will lose your own life.”

“It's the same thing,” Christian said.

“Do not think,” the evil king grinned, “human love cannot be so strong, I was convinced of it myself.”

A sharp sword blade gleamed in Rothbert's hand, and Christian slammed it hard. The battle began, his opponent just grinned, he did not believe that a person could be strong enough to defeat him. Christian could not lose, the most precious thing in his life depended on the outcome of the fight. Christian knew how to wield a sword, over the years spent away from home, he learned all the techniques of owning a weapon.

The sword struck the sword, the sound of steel echoed through the old mill, and Rothbert no longer grinned. He realized how strong his opponent was, he saw courage in his young face, and now it was about the life and death of one of them.

Rothbert had always been slow to resort to witchcraft, but now even it might not help. Nevertheless, he used a magic technique to knock the weapon out of Christian's hands. The prince's sword immediately fell into a shallow source. Rothbert was already feeling victorious, and his face was contorted with an evil smile. However, Christian managed to find his blade in the cold water and splashed it into the eyes of his opponent.

Strange water, like fire, scorched the face of his opponent.

“You’ll pay me for this,” he shouted, but Christian was not intimidated.

“I love your daughter,” Christian said.

He did not care that he was talking to the king of the dark forces, to the devil himself, to the gloomy Rothbert.

“I ask her hand.”

Rothbert just laughed out loud, his eyes flashing before their swords crossed again.

“She’s not for you,” he replied. “She will be my heir. I swore to kill you. I will keep my word, no matter what the cost.”

Rothbert hated the young prince with all his soul, he vowed to kill him. The prince fell in love with his daughter, but she was a cursed beauty and should not have loved a mortal. Her cruel father was going to save Odile from this love, he had to kill Christian, the one who interfered with all his evil plans. Their duel lasted a long time, and Christian was on the verge of death many times, but his love and courage saved him. All the powers of darkness were now fighting against him in the face of the black Rothbert. Christian was already tired, he could barely catch his breath, and his enemy was full of new superhuman strength. Christian contrived and, gathering all his last strength, dealt a decisive blow to Rotbert. His sword pierced the enemy's hand so that the sword fell out of his opponent's fingers, and a long bloody wound remained on the palm, from which blood gushed out in a stream.

“You yourself decided your fate,” hissed Rothbert, “now you will die an even more terrible death than the one that I have prepared for you.”

Rothbert hissed a few unintelligible words, like a witchcraft call, and squeezing his wounded hand with his hand, disappeared into the darkness.

Suddenly a wet, strong hand grabbed hold of Christian. He looked up to see the witch Rothbert had told him about. The witch tried to grab his throat, but he dodged and struck her with his sword, she screeched and lunged at him. Another moment and Christian would have been over, but the prince threw a lighted candle at her, which miraculously turned out to be next to him. The monster screamed, the whole mill and its evil spirits were engulfed in fire. Christian flew down the steep stairs and ran out to freedom, where his faithful horse was waiting.

The prince jumped on his horse and rushed away from the burning mill. His path led to the enchanted castle, to Odile.

Odile stood in the dark marble hall by the huge fireplace, the queen's ermine robes draped over her shoulders. Her father wanted to officially introduce the heiress to his subjects today. A huge crowd of people gathered in front of the palace.

“It's time,” said Rothbert and led Odile out onto the high balcony. Her luxurious dress glittered in the sun, and a royal crown shone on her head. This is how Christian saw her, galloping to the castle, and his heart beat faster as he rode up to the crowd. He looked only at her, and boundless love for the black swan in the royal crown burned in his soul.

He knew she was out of reach for him, but he loved her. Now he saw her as the queen of the dark kingdom, but that did not frighten him. Suddenly their gazes met. Odile froze in place in amazement, unable to utter a word. It seemed to her that she was delirious, but Christian really stood in the crowd and looked at her with deep love. She could not show her feelings, she was the queen of black swans, and she was supposed to be insensitive and not have a heart, but she loved as much as she could not even imagine before. They were separated by a crowd of people, but Christian did not want to take his eyes off her, he was ready to look into her green eyes for eternity.

Odile almost screamed, almost spoke his name out loud. She forgot that the rivals catch her weakness every moment in order to overthrow her from the throne of evil. She could hardly contain herself.

“Christian,” she whispered softly to the one who was also repeating her name at that moment.

“Odile,” he blurted.

It's good that no one heard of it. The crowd screamed and glorified their princess, and Christian was both the happiest and the most unfortunate person in the whole world, he saw her, but there was almost no hope of luck. He did not take his eyes off her until Rothbert took her by the hand from the balcony from the admiring crowd and from the enamored gaze of someone who could not live without her.