Swan Lake

Conspirators

The dark night has spread its gloomy veil over the whole kingdom. No one from the castle should have known that a special world wakes up at night, a world of secrets and witchcraft, in which fairies and elves dance under the moon, and ugly witches do their black deeds, which only an initiate in the secrets of witchcraft could know. Today came a special night when a person conspired with unclean forces in order to take possession of some drop of earthly power, but it could not bring him joyful days, because he forever became a prisoner of dark forces. The castle was asleep, and even the watchmen on the towers were ready to doze off from the tiredness of the night. A dark shadow slipped out of the castle gates and ran along a straight moonlit path to a distant forgotten cemetery.

It was a girl in a black cape that completely hid her dress and face. In her hand was a basket, from which snakes hissed from time to time. The girl took with her not only a basket, but also an exquisite purse from which a sharpened knife peeped out and some strange blue powder was visible, every now and then illuminated with a strange radiance.

Only a sorceress could run out of the castle on such a night, and she was already almost her. The road was long and dangerous, but the girl ran without stopping. The snakes hissed hoarsely in her basket, but did not bite her. There was so much poison in her heart that their bite could not affect her.

A cemetery appeared in the distance. It was a dark, gloomy place, even the light of the moon dimmed over the crosses and headstones of long-abandoned graves. Approaching the cemetery, the girl lowered her hood, and the light of the moon lit up Rosalyn's ugly and deathly pale face. Her hand touched the gate, and a long bloody scar flashed on it, around which a black snake coiled, it disappeared during the day and appeared at night, disfiguring the body and heart given to the forces of evil. She pulled off her cloak, exposing her shoulders. Her dress was more like the attire of a servant of the devilish sect than the dress of a princess. On her shoulder burned a sign in the form of a five-pointed star.

Rosalyn took her basket and dumped everything in it on one of the graves. The snakes nibbled and crept along the ground, and immediately black crows flew from the sky and sat on the gravestones around the girl. Dark four-footed creatures with white fangs in the dark dragged a huge cauldron to her, in which some hellish witch's brew was foaming and hissing.

Rosalyn opened her purse and threw a whisper of blue powder into the cauldron, and as soon as the grain touched the burning water, a fire broke out in the cauldron, and Rosalyn took out a knife and stood with it in ominous anticipation. Today all her troubles will end, and she will receive the heart of a young prince.

She cut her arm open, her thick, scarlet blood flowing into the cauldron and mixed with the dirty gray liquid. The villainess's blood was just as thick. like the witch's brew.

Rosalyn leaned over and looked into the cauldron, a flash blinded for a moment, but then the fire died down and she saw the ugly figure of a red-haired witch right in front of her.

“I came,” said the girl, firmly and clearly, like a witchcraft spell, “I came, and I want the prince to marry me and I become a queen, and all my rivals took hellish death.”

“Wait,” the witch hissed, “I'll give you everything, but you have to promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” she replied boldly.

“The soul of a young prince,” the diabolical agreement sounded.

“Yes,” said Rosalyn, “yes, I agree.’

“One more thing,” the witch hissed, “you have a rival, another girl is able to get the hand and heart of the prince.”

“I’ll kill her,” Rosalyn hissed, but the witch made a warning hand.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “She is not only your enemy, but mine.”

“Who is she,” was Rosalyn's first question, “who is this wretch?”

“Beautiful princess,” came the answer.

“Not that she should be beautiful, the prince has disgusting taste.”

“Yes, and unfortunate fate, she is not just a girl, she is a princess - a swan,” explained the red-haired mistress of the dark cemetery.”

“Look here,” said the witch, bending over the cauldron, Fire flashed on the water, and a reflection of distant lakes appeared in it. White swans swam in the water, only in the middle, on an island, was a girl in a white light dress, and her blonde hair was blowing in the wind. She was fabulously beautiful. Rosalyn almost died of envy when she saw her light and delicate silhouette. Not only did the prince love another, he loved such a beauty.

“Well, then - revenge,” Rosalyn whispered, gritting her teeth.

“Yes, revenge,” the witch agreed.

“What are you up to?” a clear and beautiful voice rang out from behind them. Both turned and froze in place with a shock that was the same to Rosalyn and the witch. Again this devil, this damned daughter of Rothbert was here.

But there was nothing to say, she was a real beauty and a complete repetition of Odette, like her mother. Black hair streamed down her back, the skin of her hands and face was whiter than marble or snow, which gave her a truly fabulous beauty. She was wearing a luxurious burgundy dress with black forget-me-nots framing her bare white shoulders, her neck was adorned with a gold chain with a magical, almost violet, not like a ruby, her powerful eyes were full of anger.

“What are you up to?” she hissed, right into the terrible face of the red witch.

“It's none of your business,” she replied rudely.

“Mine,” Odile responded whimsically and imperiously, “everything that happens in the dark world is my business.”

“Do you think that if you are Rotbert's daughter, then you can do anything?”

“Yes, and besides, I’m not going to put up with intrigues against myself, otherwise I’ll order Edwin to tie you and all your friends like witches to a horse's tail.”

“This devil, he is in love with you!”

“He will do whatever I command him.”

“In the end, you will become the dragon's wife.”

“We’ll see that,” Odile proudly threw up her head, her upturned nose and lips glinting powerfully in the glare of the night fire.

“You’re not a man, you’re a devil, a sorcerous beauty,” her rival burst out with hatred.

“Yes, I am,” Odile nodded mockingly, “and I will kill anyone who gets in my way.”

The witch wanted to say something, but suddenly the moon above the cemetery turned red, thick, almost scarlet and unusually bright. There was a wild and ominous roar in the distance. The roar was approaching, there was something powerful and invincible about it. It was the voice of not only a wild beast, but also a dark soul, so gloomy and arrogant that even the red-haired witch did not have.

Suddenly the air around him became hot, like in a red-hot stove. Against the background of the gloomy sky, a winged monster appeared, a golden dragon of enormous size, so terrible that it was difficult even to look at it.

His golden scales sparkled, his eyes burned with fire, flames burst out of his nostrils, it burned everything around him, and the clouds of night gloom parted before him, before his magical and gloomy beauty. His eyes were the wild eyes of a predator, not a man, but this dragon knew how to take on human form as easily as he could turn into a terrible monster, before which they tremble and who are feared as the lord of hell himself, as the devil himself, or just the dark ruler of the enchanted land - King Rothbert.

The dragon opened its mouth, and streams of smoke and fire erupted from there, it flapped its wings and sank to the ground near the graves. The moon went out and the dragon began to shrink until its paws and claws turned into human hands, until the long ears grew back and the golden body shrank to its usual size. Instead of a mighty dragon stood a handsome richly dressed man. Even Rosalyn recoiled involuntarily, only Odile remained calm.

“What are you doing here,” she said imperiously.

“Of course, I'm looking for you,” he answered incomprehensibly, in front of her he could not boast of his power, “we searched everything around what happened to you.”

“Don't I have the right to leave the castle even for a moment,” she insisted accusingly, “or have you now become my father's spy? Isn't it, Edwin?”

“Sorry,” he said, only in front of her did he notice his weakness, the green eyes of Princess Odile could subdue any villain.

“But the ball is coming soon in the castle, everyone is preparing for it,” he continued.

“So what,” burst out from her, “you might think that I have not seen balls.”

“But it will be special.”

“They are all the same.”

“No, not all,” he hastily objected, “at this ball you promised to dance with me, and therefore for me he will be special, not like everyone else.”

“Why don't you dance with someone else?”

Her green eyes opened wide, and her eyelashes and eyebrows arched, who could resist her, before her charm, before the sheen of her sparkling hair.

Edwin would never have thought that love would touch his proud soul. He always lived in the world of witchcraft, the prince, then the dragon, he did not love anyone. When he met Odile, he changed. He fell in love and his worst enemy was Prince Christian, but now he was out of the question. Edwin thought one thing, let the boy entertain himself in Spanish taverns, and at that time he will be able to win Odile's hand, and, perhaps, her heart, which was still far away.

Odile was always proud and narcissistic. Young people never liked her, although they were ready to die because of her. Only Prince Christian was able to awaken some feelings in her soul with his dedication. She knew he would love her forever, her and no other, but now he was far away.

“So are we going home?” Edwin asked.

“Of course,” Odile replied, she clapped her hands and several bats, which had appeared out of nowhere, were brought to her by the reins of a black horse with a shiny glossy mane. Edwin helped her climb into the saddle.

“ Hey, let's go,’ Odile shouted impatiently to Edwin, and now the beauty was rushing on a fast horse, her black hair was blowing in the wind, and a golden dragon flew behind her in the air, and his roar accompanied them all the way.

“What can you do,” said the stunned witch Rosalyn, “the guy fell in love with this girl, like another handsome man, but they have to sort out their feelings themselves, and we will help her get rid of one of them.”

The witch, hiding in the darkness, shook Rosalyn with the index finger of her long, gnarled hand and hissed:

‘Remember our agreement!”

Rosalyn left the gloomy cemetery. She had to see it through to the end.

She was never beautiful, but the lack of beauty did not diminish her opinion of herself in the least. She was attracted by the royal throne and the golden shine of the crown. The obstacle arose in the face of the beautiful princess, which meant that it was necessary to destroy her. Rosalyn had an ally, and now should have come to terms with her.

Rosalyn hurried to the castle. They were already waiting for her. There was a girl in a room full of candles. She wore a long dress with overly tight sleeves at the wrists.

“I'm here,” she said.

“You have to help me, Marie,” Rosalyn said.

Marie came closer to her and stared straight into her eyes. They looked at each other for a minute, each assessing for their part how fraudulent their deal would be.

“This will be our contract,” Rosalyn said.

“Yes,” she answered unwaveringly.

“And we can help each other.”

“I don’t need help, I came here to take revenge on Prince Etienne,” the girl said, “I’m ready for anything so that he doesn’t marry the one who has become ...”

She hesitated.

“ Yes?” Rosalyn asked, but there was no answer.

“I have a rival,” Rosalyn stepped aside, “and I hate her.”

‘I hate it too.”

“But why?”

“It's not easy to explain.”

“So explain, and everything will become easy.’

“I can't,” said Marie.

“Why?’ burst out from Rosalyn, but deathly silence fell in the room, no one dared to utter a word, and the girls looked at each other, each trying to unravel the secret of the other.

“Why do you hate Etienne?” Rosalyn continued to insist.

“You want to know?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” the villainous babbled excitedly.

“Well,” said Marie, “then I'll tell you.”

“So get started,” Rosalyn ordered.

“Everything is very simple and at the same time not.”

“You're talking in riddles!”

“No, any of the living people can understand this, any of those who enjoyed life and loved, and, in the end, became a prisoner of fate, you must understand this.”

“But I do not understand.”

“Then listen to my story!”

Marie stepped away from the candles and stood against the cold stone wall, from which, as if anger emanated.

“Once I was a little girl too,” began Marie, “but life played a cruel joke on me. Prince Etienne played with me as a child, we liked each other, but then something terrible happened. I grew up beautiful and was noticed by King Rothbert. His gaze fell on me, and I almost turned into a girl - a swan. What saved me was that I swore to serve the red-haired witch.”

“But how can I know you're telling the truth,” Rosalyn blurted out.

“Look,” just said Marie and slowly, as in a dream, lifted the sleeve of her dress. Instead of a human hand, it had a swan wing, but not completely. It was half a human hand and half a bird, and it was impossible to tell what was more in it.

“You were once kind,” glancing sideways at her. said Rosalyn.

“Yes, and look what the good girl did to me, she crippled me.”

“But you didn't become a swan.”

“But I became unhappy for the rest of my life, and I hate the prince because, as soon as I disappeared, he fell in love with another.”

“Yes, I saw her.”

“But you don't know who she really is.”

“She's a princess,” Rosalyn said, confident that she knew the answer to the question.

“Not only.”

“Who else is she?”

“Will you believe me if I tell you?”

“Of course.”

“Swear you will.”

“Yes,” Rosalyn almost cried out, and heard the fatal reply that echoed in her ears.

“She's a princess - a swan,” Marie said.

“ A Swan Princess?” asked her accomplice in surprise, “but this is impossible, this cannot be, she is such a beauty, and, moreover, a blonde.”

“I swear to you, Rothbert bewitched her, but even in the world of witchcraft she was given an advantage, she is not just a swan girl, she is the princess of all swans and enchanted girls, and the prince loves her.”

“I will avenge this love on him.” Rosalyn gritted her teeth in impotent rage.

“Just think, he loves the princess - the swan,” she shouted, she was ready to tear and throw.

“But how will we take revenge on the prince?” asked Marie.

“We,” Rosalyn grinned, “first we will leave him without this beauty, she must die, and the red-haired witch will help me become the queen of this country. As soon as the prince leads me to the altar, the very next day he will accept his death.”

“But maybe even better,” said Marie, “we will call here all the forces of the red witch, and they will help us to raise the rebellion. We will derogate the prince from the throne, and you will become the heir to the throne, like his bride.”

“That would be very nice,” Rosalyn laughed, followed by Marie.