10-21-2016, 07:50 PM
Illarion swept between them. "You stand before Глаз Христы (Eye of the Khylsty)!"
He clenched the hatchet, ready to strike at the old man before him, but Valeriya put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him away. "Brother,"
she said, voice unsteady, but her arm was sure. He turned to look at her through the folds of his hood, but did as she said and retreated.
A snap and wave of her fingers bade Marat carry the blue flame torch near. She stepped forward, angling the light toward his face.
Then she gasped.
She saw the eyes first. Blue as the torch, blue as the Above, but they were flanked by swathes of burnt flesh. The left side of his cheek and face bubbled and oozed as she had only seen a few times before. His hair was matted against his forehead. What she thought was gray with age was also singed black by soot. Ash and dirt smeared his cheeks, but only made the blue of his eyes all the brighter as they peered out of the darkness. She had the distinct sensation of peering into an abyss, only to have it peer back into her.
Elation. Joy. Salvation! Hope. It was him in flesh. The face poised before The Eye within. She'd seen his face a thousand times. It taunted her from the flicker of a flame, from behind the ripple of water. She saw it danced in the facets of crystal. She wasn't wearing the phallus, but if she had, she might have gripped it like a lucky charm.
At Valeriya's slightest movement, Illarion was poised to strike from her side. When she dropped to her knees, slipping slightly on the blood, he jerked in response, but stopped when he realized his sister bowed on purpose.
"The Eye has seen!"
She yelled, uncaring about the echo of her voice giving away their position. She gripped his ankles as though afraid he might run away. He was grievously injured. She could smell the ash on his legs.
Illarion snatched the torch from Marat, holding it high to see for himself. When Valeriya uttered the name to follow, both men gasped as well, pulled their hoods low and bowed.
"Rasputin!"
Their father had returned, the one foreseen by every Eye since his death. The Khylsty would go Above. She would see the blue horizon for herself. The Eye never failed.
He clenched the hatchet, ready to strike at the old man before him, but Valeriya put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him away. "Brother,"
she said, voice unsteady, but her arm was sure. He turned to look at her through the folds of his hood, but did as she said and retreated.
A snap and wave of her fingers bade Marat carry the blue flame torch near. She stepped forward, angling the light toward his face.
Then she gasped.
She saw the eyes first. Blue as the torch, blue as the Above, but they were flanked by swathes of burnt flesh. The left side of his cheek and face bubbled and oozed as she had only seen a few times before. His hair was matted against his forehead. What she thought was gray with age was also singed black by soot. Ash and dirt smeared his cheeks, but only made the blue of his eyes all the brighter as they peered out of the darkness. She had the distinct sensation of peering into an abyss, only to have it peer back into her.
Elation. Joy. Salvation! Hope. It was him in flesh. The face poised before The Eye within. She'd seen his face a thousand times. It taunted her from the flicker of a flame, from behind the ripple of water. She saw it danced in the facets of crystal. She wasn't wearing the phallus, but if she had, she might have gripped it like a lucky charm.
At Valeriya's slightest movement, Illarion was poised to strike from her side. When she dropped to her knees, slipping slightly on the blood, he jerked in response, but stopped when he realized his sister bowed on purpose.
"The Eye has seen!"
She yelled, uncaring about the echo of her voice giving away their position. She gripped his ankles as though afraid he might run away. He was grievously injured. She could smell the ash on his legs.
Illarion snatched the torch from Marat, holding it high to see for himself. When Valeriya uttered the name to follow, both men gasped as well, pulled their hoods low and bowed.
"Rasputin!"
Their father had returned, the one foreseen by every Eye since his death. The Khylsty would go Above. She would see the blue horizon for herself. The Eye never failed.
The Eye of the Khylsty