The storm hit them in the middle of the battle. The siege of the lizards had broken down before the arrival of the Western reinforcements. They were now fighting a last-ditch effort, surrounded by the ruthless shadow-like and bloodthirsty polymer warriors lead by the Mad Professor. But it was not until pieces of ice hit the blondish head of the Professor that the warlords ran headlong toward the house to avoid further damage and casualties. After a while, they were lying sprawled on the mattress in the attic, soaked and out of breath. An icy torrent of hail poured out and the thunder alternated in a vague and not very soothing rhythm. The girl sighed deeply and wiped her wet forehead.

"It's beautiful," she said after a moment, spreading her arms. "It's wonderful to be alive."

"That's right. You got lucky with the storm," the black-haired boy muttered, listening to the rumble. "Otherwise you wouldn't be alive for long. I hid such reserves that I would disperse you in no time."

"Silly," the girl said absently. "Who cares about the battle anymore? I'm interested in what I'm feeling right now. Do you feel it? How nice it is to be wet, to breathe the cool air, to be startled by lighting... To be alive."

"Yeah right. I prefer to be dry and warm. Dara, aren’t there any blankets around?"

"Shut up, Yavor, you're ruining the moment. And this is exactly the moment I want to last forever. To remember it forever."

"To be wet, forever trembling and not be able to go out because of the storm?" The blond bony boy asked ironically. She smiled mysteriously.

"You boys don't understand a single thing.”

"Care to explain?"

"The feeling, Boyan. The feeling of being alive. To experience different things. It doesn't matter what things. To see, to hear, to smell ..."

"To fart," Boyan chuckled, but she didn't pay any attention to him.

"... even if it hurts and you tremble ... I want it to last forever. I don't want to die. I want to be immortal."

Boyan got up on his elbow and wiped his rain-darkened hair with his palm.

"Won't you get bored doing the same things forever?"

Dara muttered 'no" without looking at them. Her eyes wandered, becoming huge and dark as they always did when she was thinking or was trying to make sense of something.

"I'm sure I'll get bored," Yavor said. "The storm is cool, but after a hundred storms I will stop noticing. And what will I feel? I’ll just feel wet. Being wet sucks."

"There's always something new," Dara said quietly. "Something different. Can you imagine how many new people we’re going meet, how many things we’re going to learn, what discoveries are going to be made and how different the world will be in, say, thirty years ... There will always be something new ..."

"Even the novelty will bore you in the end. Ask your grandmother. When she is tired, she says that she no longer wants to live."

"Nonsense," said Boyan. "She only says it because she gets sick and tired of us. I haven't seen her preparing to die, no matter how old she is. But I don't think she's having much fun anymore either."

"Such fools you are. You don't even know if you'll have the time to get bored. If I live as long as my mother, I have exactly twenty more years to live. Can you imagine? It's as if you’ve been sentenced to death. You know when it will happen and you count every day. The moment things get interesting I will kick the bucket. And if my mom hadn't died so early, she could be with me now, right? She would see who I am, would talk to me. Do you think she would be fed up with me by now? I believe not. Even my grandmother isn't really tired of us, she's just trying to discipline us." Dara's voice became hoarse and she fell silent.

"Then why don't you wish to live as long as your grandmother instead of being immortal?" Yavor asked.

"Because, you idiot, when I become as old as her, there will still be things I want to see. People are going to write new books, make new movies, draw new pictures ... There are going to be more places I want to go to... How long do you think we have to live for humanity to reach other planets or finally meet aliens? It could happen in our lifespan, but I don't believe it will. If you are immortal though, what could stop you from travelling for years, even for light-years ..."

Silence fell in the attic. Boyan disappeared for a while, then appeared holding a couple of dry towels and handed them out to the others. Dara smiled at him and jumped nimbly, her long black hair scattering raindrops everywhere.

"Maybe we won't get so bored," Boyan continued after a while. "Life was very different in your grandmother's youth. There were hardly any cars. Did the people back then think we would step foot on the moon? And besides, I need time too. I would get a Nobel Prize anyway, but if I could live forever, can you imagine what I could do more? I could discover teleportation. And then you will be able to see what change means. The world will be turned upside down. Imagine, being immortal, and being able to teleport... I would go so far back I would see the beginning of the universe."

"So you want to be immortal, too? Like some dumb god? Boyan-Zeus. Dara-Diana."

"No, I do not want to be a god, it looks nasty and not much fun. I want to be human, but not die. Is that bad? Death doesn't seem like a good thing to me."

"Being immortal is not a good thing. It is not right. Everyone dies. That's how it should be. It has always been so. As in the biology textbook - the cycle of nature. We need to turn into something else."

"Egghead. People have always been saying so many things were impossible, and then hop, someone invents or discovers something and boom. The world is changed. People like you burned Copernicus. Why not become immortal?"

"It doesn't matter," Yavor frowned. "Anyway, it can't happen, so it's best to stop talking nonsense."

"I think it's possible," Dara said, looking at them with a wide smile that made them both feeling hot. "We must forget. I dreamed we had to forget."

"Oh, you dreamed ..." Yavor began.

"Shut up. We must forget about our mortality. And not listen to people like you. People who keep muttering that we have to die or that something can't happen. We must forget, but forget for real, and then our bodies will start behaving as if they’re immortal. And that’s it." 

Yavor laughed sharply.

"Darka, you are not twelve, you are five if you believe such idiocies. But I'm dying to see exactly how you're going to do it."

"Not just me, we'll do it together," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Together."

"Remember? I'm one of the bad guys, and this is such incredible nonsense."

"And what if it’s not? Imagine if it really works out? What, are you going to leave us just because you're stubborn and that's what the biology textbook says? You can't leave the group. We will do it together and that's it."

Yavor laughed again. Dara narrowed her eyes and he fell silent.

"You'll do it because I want you to. And because I don't want to be immortal if the two of you are not with me. And if you're bored, you can jump off of a cliff or something and you will be done for. Death will not escape you, it will wait for you as long as you ask for it. If you remember its existence."

"When I get bored, I'll remember it alright. But, look at your logic. Can immortals commit suicide?"

"Intelligent people never get bored," Boyan ignored him, and Dara rewarded the blond boy with a smile. Yavor's cheeks warmed. It was a saying Dara's grandmother used frequently.

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"You’re trying to say I'm a fool, aren’t you?"

"You're a moron, rather than a fool. You've always been a moron. You don’t have a single drop of imagination. That is why we will take care of you and you will listen to us. We will become immortal and great. Boyan will become the greatest physicist in the world and discover teleportation. Afterwards, he’ll discover the time machine as well. You will become a philosopher and spend as much time thinking about what is right and wrong as you want. Although I can't imagine anything duller than that. You better become a psychologist. Actually no, you would make a crappy psychologist." Dara laughed again and Yavor frowned.

"And you? What are you going to be? A great and eternal director? A high school principal, or rather an army general, so you can eternally give out orders. And have everyone salute you, forever. Or even better, just become a dictator."

"I ..." Dara sat down on the tattered sofa in the corner and stretched her tanned legs. "I don't know what will become of me. I only know drawing and fairy tales. I’ve read every fairytale in the entire world ..."

"Ha, all of them!" Boyan stretched out on the mattress again, pleased that it was all for him now. "Do you know how many fairy tales there are in this world?"

"Maybe not all of them, but all of the ones in my grandmother's library. There are many, many books in there."

"This is not a job though, it's even worse than being an artist. You have to find something closer to a real job. Otherwise, you won't be able to feed your eternal body."

Boyan chuckled.

"He is right, if you marry Yavor, you two will become beggars. What are you going to do without me then? But when I receive the Nobel Prize, I will both be rich and eternal. Oh, and also famous. I won’t keep living here, we’re all going to move to the West."

"You can't flee. No one can escape"

"You can. As long as you want it very much. Grandma said the neighbours' son ran away after being invited to a conference. And he stayed there."

"Yes, but now his family is having a hard time without him"

"It doesn't matter, Yavor," Dara interrupted. "If we are immortal, who’s going to stop us? We would go wherever we want, even go to another planet. We would travel constantly and do whatever we want ..."

"I’m not going to become a philosopher. I will become a physicist." Boyan stood up and looked at Yavor with one eye. "What, do you think I can't? You think I’m not as good as you are?"

"Enough, enough." Dara rolled her eyes. "Morons. Who cares what we do if we have all the time in the world? We would do whatever we want. As long as we are having fun."

"What about kids?" Boyan asked. “Are we going to have children?"

"No," Dara said firmly, staring at the dirty toe of her foot. "No children. I talked to Grandma the other day. The women in our family ... well, at least most of them die soon after giving birth. I think we are cursed. You give birth - you die."

"Maybe you can live as long as your grandmother," Yavor replied.

"Maybe, but I’m not going to take any chances. And why would I need children if I’m going to live forever?"

"You talk about it like it’s reality. Why are you so sure?”

"I'm sure," she whispered. "I can feel it. Don't you feel it? We can't die. We are special. We are not like the others."

"That's right," Yavor sighed and gathered the towels in a pile. "I have a very, very special tooth right here and it grows upside down … You’re just imagining things. It must be from your long hair and too many feathers in your brain."

"You can’t feel it, because you are dim-wit, but you will get smarter if you keep hanging out with Boyan and me." She jumped abruptly from the couch and rushed into the corner, where she dug out a crumpled notebook from under the pile of old newspapers, then pulled a small glass cup and a thin paintbrush from the broken cupboard.

"What is this?" Boyan asked suspiciously.

"This is your diary from when you were in second grade."

"You read my diary?" he shouted. "How could you!"

"Yeah, I read it, and then I analyzed it in my diary. Shut up now, it doesn't matter, it was a long time ago. Don't ruin the moment." She dropped to her knees in the middle of the mattress and opened the notebook. "Come, we have to make a promise"

"What kind of promise?" Yavor asked, but still sat down next to her.

"Promise that we will live forever. That we will be friends forever and always help each other, no matter what. We won’t ever separate, won’t ever abandon each other. We will not marry because the others will not be immortal, but even if we do so, our bond will still come first."

"And we will live in Kolver. At least for a while, because they will invite us there", Boyan added.

"That's right, in Kolver. In the perfect city. There we will have a big beautiful house in which we will always feel at home. Even if we separate for a while, we will gather there again and tell each other about what we did while we weren’t together. Are you going to make that promise?"

"Yes, I promise," Boyan replied firmly, scratching his peeled nose.

"Wait, we’re not done yet. Yavor, do you promise? Just dare to say no. I will never speak to you, and since I’m going to be eternal, that’ll be a pretty long time."

"Ugh, all right, I promise," Yavor said grimly. "Whatever ..."

"Boyan, give me your knife." Dara smiled contentedly and looked at her friends. "Now - each of you cut your hand, better cut the wrist to flow more blood and squeeze it into the cup." Yavor shifted uneasily beside her. "Don't be afraid, why are you such a scaredy-cat? There’s no need to cut deep, and the blood will stop on its own almost immediately."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. My grandmother told me that there are some substances that not only make the blood clot but also close the wounds. Squeeze into the cup and mix. Then we will promise and sign with this brush. I painted my best paintings with it. So it is very special."

"Aren't we going to write an oath?" Boyan asked. "This could be our blood contract. Treaty of immortality and greatness." Dara giggled happily.

"Yes, we’re going to write one, but the brush is not thin enough and I think we won't have enough blood for everything. We could use something else, and sign at the bottom. Is that fine? Yavor, give me that pencil over there." Yavor reluctantly got up to look for the pencil.

"It's too small and it's not very sharp."

"It will do. Sit down now. Who is going to write it? Yavor, you do it. You have the best handwriting out of the three of us." Yavor sighed resignedly and picked up the notebook. After a while, the text was ready, and the three of them stood in the middle of the attic, their faces solemn, illuminated occasionally by the flashes of lightning outside. Dara looked at each of them and shivers ran through Boyan's body. At this moment, she didn't look like an ordinary girl with sore knees and dishevelled hair. She looked like an experienced sorceress to him, with those dark eyes and a knowing smile. At that moment, he was willing to do whatever she asked. He would go wherever she told him to. He would do it even if he was sure he would regret it later. On the other hand, Yavor grimly thought that they were both crazy, and that he was scared, and that it was not right to do such things. That the wound would get dirty and then Edwina would scold them, and when she quarrelled with her grandmother, Dara was getting uncontrollable and reckless ...

First Dara cut her hand and without even blinking from the pain she handed the knife slowly and ritually to Boyan. Boyan hesitated for just a second, then slid the blade across his wrist in one quick, smooth motion, then clenched his fist over the glass. He smiled contentedly and handed the knife to Yavor. Yavor took it with two fingers and saw his hands trembling. He could not stand blood. He didn't like to get hurt and didn't understand why they had to do stupid things.

However, Dara looked at him sternly, Boyan's smile became a little bit mocking, and he squeezed his eyes tightly before cutting his wrist. The sharp pain subsided almost immediately, and with tears in his eyes, he reached over the cup, which already had blood on the bottom. Dara mixed the blood with the back of the brush confident movements. The three of them took a breath and read the oath together.

"We, three future geniuses and most honourable inhabitants of Kolver swear in our lives that we will forget about death, become immortal and change everything. We will remain friends forever and never be apart for long..." Yavor had insisted that part to be included because to him it seemed absurd to never separate at all. "... and we will always meet in Kolver to share our experiences. We swear not to get married and to have no children. To never talk about death, never use that word to forget about it forever. Whoever does not keep the oath shall fall ill prematurely and die before reaching immortality. We swear solemnly!"

At the end of the oath, Yavor crossed his fingers behind his back and horror brought tears into his eyes. What if it worked? Or if it was real? How could he not think or talk about death and never use that word? How could they both be so crazy and so stupid? Why did he agree with these freaks? Now, most probably the wounds would get infected and they would die because of their stupidity. They should have at least thought to take alcohol for disinfection. But Dara continued to smile confidently and mysteriously, Boyan smiled smugly, and Yavor fell silent swallowing his fears. Then the three of them dipped the brush into the blood and signed the oath one by one.

As they finished, a blue flame erupted from the notebook, flashing right into their faces. Yavor shouted and dropped everything on the floor. The children jumped back and silently watched with wide eyes as the notebook burned at their feet and the brush rolled to the corner like a tiny glowing magic wand. Dara staggered and crashed into Boyan, as they both rolled onto the mattress. Yavor sat straight on the floor, unable to stand on his feet. The three were silent until the fire burned itself out. Dara was the first to come to her senses, as always. 

"What was that?" Boyan reached for the notebook with trembling fingers and pulled it carefully towards them. The three children's heads, two black and one blonde, came together. The notebook didn't look burned. It looked the same. But the oath page was empty. There were no signatures nor carefully written text with a pencil. Dara flipped through the notebook, to check if everything else was still there. They looked at each other. Dara's eyes shone with excitement, Boyan was pensive, Yavor was getting paler and his eyes were watering again.

"What the hell just happened?" he asked them in a very low voice as if there was something on the attic that could hear him.

"Shit," Boyan whispered. "It burned."

"How could it have burned?" Yavor continued to whisper, almost choked with fear. Then Dara laughed and stretched out on the mattress.

"Don't you understand?" she asked in a clear, ringing voice. "Someone took our oath. We just became immortal"

Thunder exploded loudly outside and the two boys jumped. Their shadows smeared on the walls of the darkened attic.

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