Aragon Masks. Inga Soborova
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Aragon Masks - Inga Soborova страница 3
Название: Aragon Masks
Автор: Inga Soborova
Издательство: Издательские решения
isbn: 9785006485723
isbn:
The mirror is old. It’s muddy. It’s from my great-grandmother. It’s good that it’s cloudy. Maybe it won’t be so scary.
Glory to the First Ones! Just like a dead man’s. Only the eyes are open. It’s just the same. I’ll put the mask back on. Anyone else will see it. I covered the windows in the house before I did it. I shut the latch.
Old Maskmaker:
Different masks I have made. In each mask I left a piece of my soul. When I made a wedding mask, I imagined myself as an innocent maiden. When I made a mask for a battle, I imagined myself as a fierce and sullen soldier. No mercy, no pity. But when I made the mask of Death, I was Death himself.
Terrible thoughts come into my head now. I’m afraid to even think. Glory to the First Ones!
I wish I could make a square mask of the Firsts. But I’m afraid to even think about it. More and more often I imagine myself carving a square Mask of the Firsts out of gray stone. Here are the squares for the eyes. Here is for the mouth. So many times I have imagined it, that it seems these masks are already on my table. Glory to the First Ones!
Aragon:
There’s the Priest’s house. Since he became a Priest, nobody comes near his house much. Even old friends cross to the other side of the street to avoid bumping into him. It’s always like that. Respected and feared very much.
I’d like to talk to him. After all, he’s seen other people’s faces. Dead, of course. Kind of scary to go to him. Will he talk to me? Maybe he’s already mad about his position. I’ll look in his window. Is he at home?
Glory to the First Ones! He stands in front of the mirror without his mask. He’s drawn the curtains, but there’s a slit left. Now I’m even more afraid. He put the mask on. I’ll knock.
Priest:
I began to think. Maybe we don’t need masks at all. I was thinking that if I died, no one would know that the mask was useless. I should tell someone. They will put on a closed mask. The key goes in the lake. It’s the worst thing for me, now I know that it only obstructs me.
Aragon:
The Priest opened the door for me. He let me in. He stands. Silent. I must have tied my mask badly. I bowed to the Priest. And the mask fell off me. I picked up the mask and wanted to put it on. But the Priest stopped me. Came close. Looking at my face without the mask. I thought he’d call for the convoy.
But the Priest says, By the power vested in me, Glory to the First Ones, I command you, come to the mirror. Behold your face. The time has come!»
I came to the mirror. I forgot that I had to pretend to see my face for the first time. I stood there and looked. The Priest realized it wasn’t the first time I’d looked in the mirror. I felt I had not come to him in vain. I stand before him without a mask. I look into his eyes. I see he’s crying.
«I’ve seen you through your window. I’ve seen you looking in the mirror,» said I.
The Priest took off his mask. And then it was so funny to both of us. We both fell down laughing. Good thing the curtains on the windows were well drawn. Since then, I began to visit the Priest often.
Old Maskmaker:
I began to make Masks of the Firsts. Somehow my feet took me to the quarry. I found two stone blanks. Took them home. Started making them. It was as if I was back in my fantasies. My hands, as if they were making the masks themselves. I only watch.
Aragon:
I come to visit the Priest, and on calls, too. I began to accompany him. He needs support, I am just curious. When he changed the Mask of Life into a death mask, everyone who was there turned away. I did not. I looked at the dead man. His face was exactly like mine and the Priest’s. Only pale. And his eyes are closed.
That’s the news!
Old Maskmaker is dead. Now all the masks he has in his house, by law, will be brought to the Priest’s house. And he’ll put them on for whoever needs them. Until all the masks run out.
Helped the Priest move the masks from the house of the old Maskmaker. Glory to the First. What I found in his bags in his room! Away from the shelves with the masks, these bags laid. The Masks of the Firsts were there!
We took them to the Priest’s house. I dread even thinking what would happen if anyone found out. And the Priest, though he’s old, he’s funny. And brave. «Come on, try the Masks of the First Ones,» he says. I even got scared at first.
We got these masks of stone. It’s hot all around, but the masks are as cold as ice. Leather straps instead of ropes. Where did the old Maskmaker get them? Did he make them? Glory to the First Ones!
Old Woman:
A great holiday is coming up. The Day of the Firsts. According to the calendar, on this day hundreds of years ago, the Firsts left us. Now once a year, at the foot of Salt Mountain, we wait for them.
As a child, I was very afraid to go to this festival. Between Salt Mountain and the stone First Ones is a huge bonfire. The crowd. All the people of the town are at the bonfire. Those who can not walk, they are brought. Children with babies in their arms. No one must stay in the city. Whoever has a cracked or broken mask is thrown into the fire. The masks burst with different colors in the fire.
They say if the mask flashes yellow in the fire, it means a good man wore it. If it’s green, he’s cheerful. If red, that person’s love is strong. But if smoke goes black from the mask and sparks, then evil thoughts of the one who wore it. People see all this. They are silent.
If the mask is cracked, only into the fire on the First Day. If you bury it in the ground or hide it somewhere, all the worst that has been and will be will happen at once.
I feel if the Firsts come back, changes might happen. I’m afraid to think about it. I don’t want it to happen on my time.
It’s getting dark. All the people of the city are slowly making their way to the bonfire. I came before the others. I have plenty of time. And I love this holiday. It’s beautiful. The priest stands by the fire. In front of the face of the Stone Firsts.
Whoever brings a cracked mask, gives it to the Priest first. And goes back to his place. The Priest shouts loudly, «Glory to the First Ones!» And the mask goes into the fire. I almost cried then.
The fire burns. The flames are higher than the Firsts. That never happened before. The priest is gone.
What is it!!! The first ones are back! I can’t get off my knees. Glory to the First Ones!
The First Ones:
Here we are, all who waited for our return. All of you have honored the law. The day of the Great Change has come. By the power of the First, today at the Great Fire, under the city wall, each of you must remove the mask in front of the oldest Mirror, that of the city orphanage. Behold СКАЧАТЬ