Too Old

* * *

The rumble of an airplane taking off caused a dull stir in the small woods, disturbing the birds that lived there. Sluggishly, because the birds had got used to the roar of the machines and now paid little attention to it. Much more their small minds were worried about two-legged men, busy since yesterday morning with incomprehensible activity on the hill sheltered by bushes from prying eyes. There was something frightening about them, something that made little hearts clench in fear...

The short girl, who was sitting in a massive wooden armchair, mysteriously appeared far away from the city, looked at the plane, and then looked at her companion. He, however, did not notice the attention to his person. He walked around the wide stone slab, painstakingly sketched an intricate pattern on its surface, occasionally taking a break to check the manuscripts lying nearby. When he had finished his drawing, he sighed with relief, proudly looked at his creation, and began to place candles on the edges of the primitive altar.

Only then did the girl speak.

"Are you confident of success?"

The Wizard did not interrupt his activities but answered immediately: "Tonight is a lucky night, Mistress. Several threshold conditions coincide, which happens once in a millennium... No, even rarer!"

"In my opinion, too complicated," she looked at the stove with faint skepticism. "In my experience, the simpler, the more reliable."

"In your case, Misstress, simplicity is unattainable," the man objected respectfully but firmly. "Your descendants, your vassal oaths, the Guilds' oaths, your agreements with humans create an incredibly strong web that cannot be broken by conventional methods. Even the complete destruction of your physical body offers no guarantee..."

"I know," the girl's aura grew powerful for a moment, and the air around her grew dangerously cold. "That's why I needed your help."

The magician bowed briefly, accepting the warning. Indeed, to whom is he telling it?

"I am a faithful servant of my Mistress, as are thousands of other children of the Night."

"Unfortunately, they are less willing to comply with my requests."

"They admire and respect you, Mistress," the man shrugged. "For many of them, you are at the center of the universe. Which, by the way, is true in a certain sense."

"Nonsense. I have long since handed over most of my connections to the King and the Council."

"And yet, the remaining number is still too high," the mage stopped preparing the ritual, raised his head, and, after a short hesitation, cautiously began. "I am obliged to ask, Mistress. May it be eternal sleep?"

"Sooner or later they'll wake me up, and I'll have to meddle in their primitive squabbles again," snorted the girl. "I'm sick of it. Don't try to talk me out of it!"

The grass around the chair blackened and dried, the man's shoulders trembled, a trickle of blood appeared from his nose. He mumbled a hasty apology and went back to work. There was silence. The girl sat upright in her chair, listening to the birdsong, staring at the sun without blinking.

"How long will it take you to perform the ritual?" After a quarter of an hour of silence, she asked.

"The ritual will begin at midnight and will take about..."

"It doesn't matter," she twitched the corner of her mouth in displeasure. "They've already found us."

As if to obey her words, the shadows of the trees stirred, grew thicker, with a frightening depth and volume. The mage sighed with ill-concealed relief and began to put the items he had placed on the altar back into the bag. When he looked up again, a dozen dark-skinned figures surrounded the clearing.

"My Misstress..."

The girl looked grimly, displeased, at the kneeling leader of the uninvited guests. She hesitated and, with a faint gesture of her hand, allowed him to rise.

Quietly inquired: "Is it so hard to leave me alone?"

"Forgive me, my Mistress," the warrior dared to raise his head and look her in the face. "Your people need you too much."

We can't allow you to die.

* * *