I remember, as soon as we ran out of the hall, a huge meteorite flew at us. I used my sphere. We escaped. It was blue and white. The sphere is good, but it can't be compared to the black one. Generally, I saved myself and the young lad, although just a minute ago, oh... I don't even want to think about it. After the boy teleported to the Planet of the Endless Water, I cut off communication with it, so the enemies won’t get there. At the end of first day of war, when the fighting stopped on the first day, I was very sad. I was upset that I didn't die on the battlefield. No wonder they say: "Even one who wants to die will fight for life."
On the first day, the war showed me its true colors, and the souls of people, their true desires. And everything was covered in darkness. I really wanted this hell to end the next day. It's a pity that it’s impossible. Those who were trapped in the bowels of the underworld were doomed to burn until the very end. Until their souls turned to ash and was carried by the wind. My ancestors will forgive me for thinking this, but part of me still envied the dead, they were lucky enough to see the end of the war, and I didn't see it for several centuries. In the last year of endless battles, I even forgot what I was fighting for, because I lost everything. It was tempting to give up this war, and fly away, somewhere far away, where there is water, fish and mountains.
Malum, bleeding, writhing in agony, caught in the hot grip of death, felt his consciousness fall like an anchor to the very bottom of the ocean. Using the last bit of his strength, he recalled the times when he felt great. The sphere activated, and the wounds began to heal. Life began to fill every cell of his body. A dull tinnitus passed in his ears, and he heard the sounds of the street. His vision was restored. Malum laughed with joy, he could not control the happiness that you can only feel when you come back from the dead. But that was before the first cough. The lungs didn't completely recover. He took the inhaler, which was covered in blood. He made two injections; looked up at the sky. Then he glances around.
There were people standing around, frozen in fear, looking at him like Christians who had just seen the second coming of Christ. One man standing at a distance ran away, waving his arms and shouting in another unknown language.
Malum ignored them and looked at his watch. Still works.
The time is 12: 40. Date: 31.07.2020
"It's been forty-eight hours…"
Malum set the timer. Then he remembered the last scene, when someone tried to kill him by stabbing him in the left side of his chest.
"I wish you could hear this, but this is the first time I'm ready to thank you, mom, for my situs inversus with dextrocardia."
He looked down at the sand with blood-caked patches under it. He raised his head slightly and looked around at the local people gathered around him, who were clearly in a state of worry, because it's not every day that you see a person's wounds heal on their own, let alone that they appeared out of the void. Some looked at each other, some muttered to themselves, some pointed at the black sphere with their index finger and covered their astonished mouths with their hands. Girls dressed in white "La Malinche" huipil, men in long cloaks of the same color, beneath which was visible the tunic or shirt with long sleeves and tight pants to his ankles. All of them wore wooden-soled shoes.
A little further down the street to the right were some shabby-looking merchants. Malum couldn't make out what exactly they were selling in their wicker baskets, or what language they were using to invite customers. The view in front of him was akin of a picture that was reminiscent of an ancient world full of unknown secrets of the universe, where you can buy not only lost magical knowledge, but also buy elixirs and learn alchemy. On the left side of the street, children from young to old were running and fooling around, creating an atmosphere of celebration and ease with their behavior.
I teleported to the wrong place again, but at least there are people like me here. I just need to find out if I'm on Earth, and if I am, I need to find the nearest airport.
The street is littered with small one-story houses made of Sandstone; roofs made of long-stemmed wheat straw; wooden window frames and dull glass with road dust embedded in them. Each house stood close to each other. The road is covered with hot sand with small stones. The smell around him was stale, like the stench of a grave mixed with the smell of a toilet.
A woman in a black raincoat was running through the shopping aisles from the East. The face was young, without a single wrinkle. Dark skin, slim build, long black hair. When she got closer and looked at the black sphere flying around Malum, she knelt down on one knee and lowered her head. The people who were standing around did the same. The girl began to speak. Malum listened, hoping to make out the local language. It seemed to him that he had already studied it before. When the woman spoke again, he realized that it was Medu Neter, the language spoken in ancient Egypt about five thousand years ago. There was no limit to his surprise, since up to this point; he believed that such an ancient dialect was no longer used by anyone.
Malum looked at the people kneeling in front of him, his head bobbing from side to side, he had no idea what to do next. He looked at the sphere, thought for a moment, stretched out his hand in its direction and imagined that he knew this language. Then he said the phrase "Where am I?" but instead of Russian, the language of the local population was heard, which seemed to come out of his mouth, but asynchronously to the movement of his lips.
The girl raised her head and answered:
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"We are in a town called Tuhinmua. My name is Ismila. I am the chief of the city. We are very happy to see you. I did not think that the predictions of my ancestors would fall on my age. I thought you would be older, Your Excellency Motso. I'm glad that you could beat time."
Ismila stood up, snapped her fingers and nodded in the direction of people.
- Prepare for Irin-Ajo. I'll handle it myself.
The people rose, bowed first to Malum, then to the chief, and went about their business.
"Please follow me." I'll take you to my living quarters. They might notice if you're outside."
"I'd like to know more about where I am…"
"You were born not far from here. Don't you remember?"
"I'm afraid you took me for the wrong person. My name ain’t Motso. I'm Malum. I’m from Russia. Do you know where it is?"
Ismila looked at him with a surprised look.
"Is this the ancient name of the city where Mokosh lived? Many centuries have passed since it was destroyed. I am very sorry."
"What year is it?"
"Let's get off the street first, and we'd better hurry. They might notice you when they come. You can't hide from them."
"But first I'd like to get an answer to my question." This is important, believe me. Repeated Malum.
"Five thousand one hundred and twenty."
"From the birth of Christ?"
"Who?" she shrugged. "I don't know." When the Rod family overthrew the Mokosh government, they made a new countdown. Mokosh have a son, his name was Avoneru - my ancestor. But I don't know anything about Christ. It is now 5120 years since the beginning of the Rod era."
"And in what year did this happen? According to the old calendar."
"In the one million four hundred thousandth year of the birth of the first life."
Malum sighed, realizing that he was back on another planet. But there were several things that bothered him: First, Motso's name was also mentioned by the old man. So this person is some kind of link between the worlds, but why he, Malum, cannot teleport to where he wants? Where is the error? And how do people from another planet know the language used by people from Earth? Again, so many questions and no answers.
"Can we go now?"
Malum nodded in agreement. They walked together to the East side of the city without saying a word to each other. He could see that something was frightening Ismila, but he felt that it wasn’t the right time to ask, just as he was too shy to ask who "They" are.
Many people were walking the streets. On the wall of each house on the outside, next to the entrance door, torches burned (installed so as not to accidentally set fire to the roof of the house) and lanterns glowed, despite the fact that the sun was at its Zenith, Shrouding the city in yellow colors. The desert road was melting from the heat, small puddles appeared in the distance and then disappeared. The houses at the end of the street were distorted in the chaotic dance of the heated air. It became especially difficult to breathe in such an environment, and there was a catastrophic lack of oxygen in the air. The body seemed to turn into water, immediately evaporating along with the strength and energy. Each new step was difficult. The sun was blinding, and Malum kept his hand over His eyes and moved as if trying to find his shadow.
As he made his way deeper into the unknown ancient realm, Malum constantly caught the eye of merchants and people passing by. But as soon as he turned in their direction, they immediately turned away their astonished expressions and fell silent, and after a while the street noise increased again.
At one of the street intersections, a little girl, who looked to be about twelve or thirteen, ran up to them. She said her mother was sick. She hasn't been out of bed for days. The girl stared at Ismila with her black teary eyes, not noticing anyone else. The chief said that she will take a look at her mother. The girl ran back to the house.
Ismila turned her head in the direction of Malum; looked at him for about ten seconds. The wind died down and the rumble of a black sphere was heard. He was silent, looking back.
"Do you want something from me?"
"Can you wait here? I'll be fast."
"Ok."
She went into the house. There was a smell of urine and candles inside. The girl’s mother didn't move at all, and when she saw the chieftain, she barely opened her eyes.
"She'll help you," the girl said.
Ismila examined the woman. Her body is partially paralyzed, the nervous activity of the body is disrupted. Gumma appeared on her skin, blood vessels of the body became larger.
"You will help her, won't you?" the girl asked, tugging at Ismila's black cloak.
"Of course," nodded Ismila and smiled.
In a dark corner sat an old man who looked neither alive nor dead.
"Are you looking after both of them?" Ismila asked.
"My mother used to look after my grandfather, and now I'm trying to look after both of them. However, I’ve already sold almost everything on the market."
"Your name is Lily?"
"Lily White, not to be confused with Lily Orange."
Ismila smiled and felt like someone was watching them from the window. She turned around, but there was no one there. The woman in the bed turned her head and said:
"My Lily is special."
"It's true" confirmed Ismile.
"Not like the rest of us. You keep her safe if anything happens to me."
"I know."
"And don't let her do what I do."
Ismila nodded. The girl ran to her mother and began to cry.
"I'll call my personal doctor to help your mother."
"You're lying! I can see in your eyes that you're lying! What will happen to me?"
"I won't let you get hurt."
The girl again began to sob.
"Go away, please," said an old man sitting in a dark corner of the room. "Leave us alone."
"I'll get a doctor." He's an angel."
"There are no angels in this world. All that's left are the demons that devour us day in and day out."
"I won’t watch my people die."
"Then close the door and don't come back."
Ismila lowered her head and went out. A militia member was passing by. She ran to him.
"Call my personal doctor here. He's at home now."
The man nodded, turned, and walked away. Ismila grabbed him by the shoulder and shouted with a furious look:
"In Vyshen’s name! Run!"
The man ran.
Ismila went back to Malum.
"Sorry for the delay. Please follow me."
Malum nodded, and they moved on in silence. Halfway up, rain clouds suddenly gathered in the sky. Deafening thunder rang out. A strong wind began to blow, raising hot sand from the ground, which now burned and scratched the skin of anyone who stood in its way. The storm appeared out of nowhere. The fire in the torches was thrown from side to side. The shadow covered the city like lightning, plunging everything into the pitch-black darkness of the night. The people in the streets stopped, raised their heads, and then stood on one knee, like soulless terracotta statues. Ismila's face changed.
"It doesn't get any easier."
She quickly took Malum's hand, opened the door of the nearest house, and, ordering the residents not to leave, pushed him inside with all her strength, telling him to be silent and not move, no matter what.