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The Tale of Delicious Pies
The girl pursed her lips and pointedly turned away, beginning to intently examine the collection of wooden cutlery hanging on the wall. Another batch of delicious pies was sizzling in the oven, and a pleasant smell of stew wafted from the cauldron.
- I'm not going!
Her mother threatened her with a steaming ladle, then immediately dipped it back into the cooking food and tasted it.
- I don't want to hear any more, Drakkoshka! – the woman said sternly.
- But it's so far! The pies will get cold! And by the time I return, it'll already be evening!
- If you hurry, you'll be done in two or three hours. Come on, come on, go, the pies are getting cold!
Drakkoshka sighed, took her long yellow cloak from the hanger, put on her boots, took a still-warm basket covered with a white towel from the table, and went out into the yard.
- Did you forget your magic wand? – the woman shouted after her.
Drakkoshka felt for the fire rod fastened to her belt, said goodbye to her mother, and set off. Along the smooth sandy path, through the forest to the river, then across the bridge, a little bit through the swamp, and there was grandmother's house. The sun was shining, birds were singing, workers in the field waved their hands at the girl; in short, it was a wonderful day!
Quickly reaching the forest, she came to a fork in the road. One path led along a safe route, past a forest farm, through bright clearings full of ripe berries. The other, barely visible in the thick forest, led through dark ravines but allowed her to significantly shorten the distance to her destination. After thinking for a couple of minutes, the girl chose the short path; she really wanted to get home earlier, and grandmother would appreciate the freshness of the pies.
Nothing foretold trouble, except that she slipped on a moss-covered log, nearly falling into some nettles, but otherwise, the forest was completely harmless. A few times she encountered squirrels rustling overhead, and she also found a wild raspberry bush, which was very tasty. But just as the road to the river became visible behind the trees, a stranger appeared before the girl. Dressed in worn leather pants and a black vest, he studied her intently, leaning his shoulder against a tree. A stiff wolf tail, a pair of black ears, and two sharp daggers hanging from his belt gave him away as a notorious bandit known in these parts.
- What is that you're carrying in your basket, girl? – the wolf asked.
- None of your business, robber Vistrit! – Drakkoshka replied imperturbably. – I am in a hurry.
- Wait a moment, dear, I smell...
Without waiting for him to finish the sentence, the girl ran forward, jumping over rotten tree trunks and trying not to get too scratched by dry branches blocking her path. The wolf rushed after her, quickly closing the distance. Running out of the forest, Drakkoshka collided with a hunter strolling along the road.
- Oh, dear, are you rushing into my arms yourself? – the man asked, touching his chest with his fingers. – Are you my new muse?
- Wolf Vistrit is chasing me, help me!
- Wolf Vistrit! Ah, that own little rogue!
The hunter named Arandor whipped a rifle from behind his back and prepared to fire. The robber who ran out after the girl was forced to jump away from the bullet flying at him. The hunter pompously blew the smoke trailing from the barrel, slightly lifting his wide-brimmed hat.
- In the name of the law, surrender, robber!
- Never!
Daggers appeared in the bandit's hands; another shot rang out, followed by the clang of steel. Vistrit instantly moved toward the shooter and now tried to stab him. Hunter Arandor jumped back, performing a backflip while firing his rifle during the move. The hunter managed to deflect the dagger attacks with his weapon, jumping across rocks and trees with incredible speed. Bandit Vistrit, in turn, deflected bullets with his blades, unsuccessfully trying to find vulnerabilities in his enemy.
Drakkoshka, who was initially interested in what was happening, now began to think about continuing her journey. But she couldn't just leave those two like that, could she? They would fight until morning! Throwing her cloak on the ground, the girl grabbed the rod hanging from her belt and launched a fire bolt at the duelists. The effect was exactly as needed; both froze in place, staring at a burning tree slightly ahead.
- I'm in a hurry, so continue next time! – the young sorceress declared.
The fighters, covered in scratches and bruises, turned to her. Arandor again lifted his hat, which had remained intact during the fight, and smiled. As for Vistrit, he was simply stunned by what he saw. Oh, a goddess of the forest in striped green-yellow woolen knee socks, honey-camouflage shorts, and a yellow tank top; her green eyes, like deadly poison applied to an assassin's daggers, captivated the unfortunate robber. Drakkoshka, feeling his dazed gaze upon her, became frightened.
- Why are you looking at me like that?!
- Oh, most beautiful one, be my wife, - answered the wolf, struck by the toxin of love.
- What-t? No, no, I'm in a hurry, I need to get to grandmother! The pies are getting cold! – the girl replied, grabbing her cloak from the ground.
- It is not a short way; I will escort you, dear, - Arandor declared.
- No, I'll escort her! – Vistrit countered.
- Go take a walk, r-r-rogue! La-la-la! Ha-ha! – the hunter sang.
- Was that not enough for you?! – the robber growled.
- Now then! Quiet! – Drakkoshka interrupted. – I don't have time to break you two up again; if you want, escort me together!
And so they did, reaching the bridge leading across a wide river as a trio. But what did they see? Someone had dismantled the bridge! The culprit, like the stolen materials, had long since vanished; only a small troll, left without a roof over his head, was crying loudly by the river.
- Troll, where did the bridge go? Who stole it? – Drakkoshka asked.
- Yyy gygygy bridgge, hooom, - the troll answered through tears, - bridge, home, ygygygy club home yyy.
- Don't waste your time, dear, - Vistrit advised, - you won't get a sensible answer from him.
- I suggest we shoot him, - Arandor proposed.
- Good idea, - the bandit agreed.
- No! Leave him alone! We will go by another bridge! – the girl reasoned.
- It wouldn't be bad to rest; my mana is almost gone, - the wolf complained.
- Pff, using mana! What barbarism! My skills work through inspiration and I don't need rest to replenish it!
- And what do you need? – Drakkoshka asked.
- Well... ahem... various things, muses or the right mood. - The hunter began to smile, - By the way, wolf, you're quite a looker; do you want to go somewhere tonight?
- No!
- I'm just joking, ha-ha!
- Keep your distance!
Traveling along the riverbank, they reached a large hut. The door was unlocked, so the travelers decided to rest inside for a while until the owners appeared. The spell keeping the pies fresh was already starting to fade slightly, so every minute counted. The house was quite cozy: three beds, a large fireplace, and tables cluttered with various interesting things. Arandor flopped onto a bed, burying his face in a huge pillow featuring a full-length anime girl. Vistrit rummaged through a stack of anime discs, tossing them aside. Drakkoshka sat at a table and rolled twenty-five-sided dice on a board for a tabletop game. This is how they spent the next hour.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps and coarse voices were heard behind the door. The uninvited guests instantly scrambled into a pantry, observing what was happening from there. First, a knight in heavy armor decorated with a crest featuring an anime girl on the chest stumbled into the house. Second, a man entered wearing a wide-brimmed hat and an eye patch. Last came a young fellow with a revolver hanging from his belt. The owners of the house immediately suspected something was wrong. The knight, tossing his helmet onto a chair, approached his bed and found a crumpled pillow.
- Who cuddled with my waifu?! Show yourself, coward, in the name of light!
The one-eyed man, discovering chaos on his table, became indignant.
- Who touched my wonderful dice?! Demonic fire!
The owner of the discs, finding his treasures scattered across the floor, was also unhappy.
- Who dared touch my beautiful collection?!
Meanwhile, a substantial portion of dust accumulated in the closet got into the hunter's nose, causing him to sneeze heartily, hitting his forehead against the back of the robber standing before him. All three flew out of the pantry at once, sprawling across the floor.
- Ah, there they are! Who are you, answer me! – demanded the knight.
- We were just passing by! Forgive us for the intrusion! – Drakkoshka tried to apologize.
- Didn't your parents tell you that touching other people's things is bad?! Now we will teach you a lesson!
- Be glad we didn't burn your house down; that's practiced here at every turn! – Arandor replied, loading his rifle.
- And your anime is trash! – Vistrit added, drawing daggers from his belt.
- Well, that's it, come over here! – the knight roared, raising his sword.
- And what's in the basket? Have you already managed to steal something? – asked the one-eyed man.
- These are just pies for my grandmother, who lives on the other bank! – Drakkoshka explained.
- Ha-ha! On the other bank! The bridges are dismantled! – said the chief anime lover.
- We'll find whoever dismantled them and kick their ass, - the wolf growled.
The owners of the house looked at each other and whispered about something.
- Are we bothering you, cuties? – Vistrit inquired. – Are we going to fight or what?
- O-o-o I am full of inspiration; just imagine what a ballad could be composed, - Arandor fantasized, - brave heroes protect a miserable girl from hentai perverts...
- Shut up already, idiots, - came the response from the enemies.
After whispering for another minute, they finally turned around and spoke:
- We know who is stealing bridges, - the one-eyed man began.
- But there are too many of them; we cannot handle them alone, - the knight continued.
- By combining our forces, we can try to achieve victory, - concluded the revolver lover.
- And who exactly? – Arandor asked.
- Bloodred and the Seven Thugs, one of the most dangerous bandit groups on this side of the river.
- We agree! – Drakkoshka immediately decided for everyone. – Just no fighting between us, please!
Now a group of six people marched forward. The knight of the order of the two-dimensional girl called himself Heroist. The one-eyed sorcerer, endowed with the extraordinary ability to always roll "25" on his dice, introduced himself as Molden. The pistol shooter was named Revan. On the way to the bandit camp, they climbed a high hill topped by a small grove. Here Revan left them, disappearing somewhere deep into the trees. Returning after twenty-some minutes, he brought a seventh fighter – a priestess in sunny robes named Sesame.
By the time the squad reached their destination, evening had already arrived. A campfire burned in the robbers' camp, meat was roasting, and beer flowed like a river from barrels. Bloodred herself, also known as Neyra Drake, sat on a table in her lavish red ball gown, strumming something on a small guitar. The names of the other gang members were no secret; everyone knew them on this side of the river. A man with an eternally unhealthy smile, busy coating arrows in poison, was Vicious Lizard. An unshaven soldier with a shield and poleaxe and his companion, a dark-skinned swordsman with a pretty face, were none other than Morning and Silverfail. A giant with a skull tattoo on his chest, armed with a giant two-handed sword and greedily tearing meat with powerful teeth, called himself Mortulus Deadman. A tall shooter in a tricorne hat, preparing cartridges for his rifle, was known as Cop. A long-haired archer dozing by the fire had earned the nickname Shaman. And finally, a mustachioed brute with a huge shield on his back and a heavy mace at his belt was called Madgerson. The bandits were resting, unaware of the coming battle; pieces of the bridge not yet fully dismantled by the rogues were visible nearby.
Heroist ran forward with a shout, raising his sword; the thugs immediately jumped up from their seats, ready to defend themselves. Neyra stepped out toward the evening guests lined up in a row.
- What do we have here? – Bloodred's gaze lingered on the wolf. – What brings you here, Vistrit? Hasn't the sheriff set a substantial reward for you?
- Maybe he has, but why are you breaking bridges?
- Look, the anime-lovers have arrived, - someone among the seven thugs said.
- Anime is crap! – another supported.
Thunder sounded; a bullet hit Morning's shield, knocking him back half a meter. The barrel of the revolver in Revan's hand was smoking, ready to fire several more bullets at any second. In an instant, the conversation turned into a slaughter. Fireballs flew, swords clashed with a clang, bolts and arrows pierced the fighters' bodies, forcing them to endlessly drink healing potions. An illusory dragon flew over the battlefield, raining fire on the ground; sparkling stars hit armor, dealing shocking damage. Arandandor, full of inspiration, dropped to one knee and fired his rifle in bursts of twenty cartridges, which shattered against the advancing giant Mortulus, who held up his huge sword like a shield. Morning desperately hacked at Heroist's armor with his poleaxe, defending himself with a shield from heavy blows of the sword. Vistrit's daggers struck the swift Silverfail, who wielded a short sword, with incredible speed; healing potions flowed in streams down the opponents' chins, and empty jars crunched underfoot.
Finally, the moment came when everyone without exception ran out of strength, and some even ran out of inspiration. Neyra, lowering her heavy crossbow, stepped forward again.
- Why... did you even come here?
- Bridge... put... back... - Heroist demanded, breathing heavily.
- I cannot! An ancient evil will pass through it and enchant our fields!
- What other evil? – Drakkoshka wondered. – My grandmother lives there! I'm bringing her pies!
- Hm, together we could defeat this evil, - Neyra said thoughtfully.
- Evil must be destroyed! – Heroist agreed.
- I won't allow any evil near grandmother! – Drakkoshka decided.
After a short rest, the crowd of people moved toward the bridge. Having returned the stolen boards to their places, the people calmly crossed the river. On the other bank, the grass was gray, the darkness was terrifying, and the trees were unusually black. A path of black brick soon led the forces of good to a luxurious mansion of gray stone, the roof of which was decorated with statues of unknown creatures.
- But that's my grandmother's house! – Drakkoshka recognized.
- It cannot be; this is the same as the home of ancient evil! – Neyra declared.
- Shall we knock? – Revan suggested.
- Well, sure, why not.
The door was opened to them by a blue-eyed maid in a dark blue dress.
- Come in, the master awaits you, - she said in a quiet voice.
Finding themselves in a spacious living room, they were surprised by a set table; mountains of hot, appetizingly smelling pies lay in deep plates. After a couple of minutes, the owner himself appeared. In a gray jacket and black shirt, he looked like an important aristocrat. He invited them to sit and enjoy dinner.
- And... where is grandmother? – Drakkoshka asked uncertainly.
- In reality, there is no grandmother; there is only I – Sky.
- But what about... grandmother... the pies...
- And in reality, there are no pies; there is only aspiration, desire, and effort.
- And what about the ancient evil?! – Neyra exclaimed.
- And in reality, there is no ancient evil; there is only a desire to do good, existentialism, and non-existence; please enjoy the pies.
- Mm... delicious, what are they made of? – Arandor asked, chewing the offered treat.
- From pain, suffering, and despair, - the owner explained.
- Who would have thought that someone's pain, suffering, and despair could be so tasty? – Morning noted.
And so ended this difficult journey full of adventures. It was good that it concluded with a quite pleasant acquaintance! No one dismantled the bridges anymore, and the pies didn't have time to get cold.
Returning home across the bridge, Drakkoshka suddenly discovered that it wasn't very warm at night, and she had forgotten her cloak while visiting Sky. Shivering from the cold, she stepped onto the road when a loud rustle was heard behind her. Frightened, the girl dashed toward the trees, but after a couple of minutes, the mysterious pursuer caught up with her. Pressing herself against a tree, she held out her magic rod, ready to meet the enemy with a fireball. A wolf appeared from the darkness, carrying her cloak in his hand.
- What are you doing here? – Drakkoshka asked, lowering her weapon.
Vistrit approached her much closer than she had expected. The robber touched her chin with his fingertips and whispered:
- I brought you something.
And what happened next is a completely different story!
А, вот почему.
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