Crystal Garden читать онлайн

О книге

Автор: Ewa Bash

Жанр:

любовно-фантастические романы

Издано в 2021 году.

У нас нет данных о номере издания.

Аннотация

When fifteen-year-old Walter met the Mentor, he thought that he had found his way. He gave up his old life in order to learn how to control the minds of people, but the price was too high. He fell in love with a girl he had no right to love and tried to make friends he could not have. How to make the right choice and remain honest with yourself? How to win a war that you have not declared? This is a story about growing up, responsibility and decision-making, on which depends no less than the fate of the world.

Ewa Bash - Crystal Garden

Prologue

The moonlight barely penetrated the narrow lancet windows of the medieval Bohemian church. Small candles dimly lit old frescoes depicting saints. The church was quiet and deserted, except for an elderly priest who was dosing over a book. The door opened almost silently, letting in an icy wind. A young man lingered in the doorway, as if considering his next move. He stepped in, closed the door behind him and walked up the aisle straight to the altar, the sound of his footsteps echoing from the stone walls. The snowflakes that sparkled in his blond hair melted, leaving footprints on his white coat. He held a long canvas package, and as he knelt before the altar, he placed it down and unfolded it to reveal an ancient sword. Upon the sword were engraved words that glistened in the candlelight. The young man folded his hands, bowed his head to the side, and looked up at the crucified Christ above the altar.

“So, here I am.” He spoke quietly in English with a slight German accent. “You know, this time I did everything I could.” He fell into a thoughtful silence before speaking again. “I ask only one thing of you – take care of them.”

Part I

I was born in Western Germany on a cold, rainy day in October 1986. My mother once told me that she had to travel to the hospital all alone in the pouring rain that night, as my father was at work – as usual. He was always working, day and night. His days were spent at the timber works, and at night he worked as a warehouse operative. Of course, on such a schedule, he didn’t have time for his family. As for my mother, she wrote for the local newspaper, giving tips on how to build relationships or grow gladioli. She was a perfect example of how you can give advice without actually being a specialist in anything. In our family, everyone was on their own. We were not even a family in its primary sense, just a collection of people under one roof.

It’s no wonder I became a troubled teen. I wasn’t a brawler or a drug addict, oh no. I studied well and came home on time. My “problem” was that nobody knew how to communicate with me. People around seemed so boring that I stayed silent most of the time, simply not understanding why anyone would bother to discuss such mundane things as weather, football or a film they watched last Sunday. In a way, I was a rebel, as I didn’t give a damn about public opinion. I was living in my own world by my own rules. I did what I wanted, the way I wanted.

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