Together with her, the entire gloomy cave suddenly came to life. The light of the fire spread over the darkness and illuminated the bizarre stones of the walls, endowing everything around with a magical, ominous beauty, and the terrible figure of a girl in the middle of the cave by the fire shone with an otherworldly light.
Her light clothes fluttered in a fiery whirlwind, her hair in the darkness looked like tongues of flame, and her hands, white as snow, extended towards the fire in a silent, witchcraft gesture.
He slowly walked closer to the girl and stood right behind her. His lifeless gaze now shone with something malevolent.
“Show me everything, Madeleine,” he whispered to the beauty, “tell me what fate has in store for me.”
His words sounded like an incantation in the silence, and, obeying his command, she straightened up to her full height. A bright fire was reflected in her huge eyes, there was no real life in them. They sparkled with deathly emptiness, and she herself lived the magical life of the vampire. She was killed by a vampire, she lived and at the same time was dead, she was a living dead, a ghost of flesh, a ghost of a fire witch. At any moment she was once again serving the demon and the secrets of witchcraft.
She crossed her arms over her chest and quickly began to whisper indistinct words that echoed in a whirlwind of madness over the fire. Madness was reflected in her eyes, which at that moment became the eyes of a wild forest beast, a beast of fire. The depths of the flame and the depths of the blood of centuries parted before her gaze.
“From century to century,” she whispered, “you are the bloody legend of centuries, you are the king of devils, the lord of nightmares, the lord of eternity, you are the bloody curse of the earth, death from hell, but the power of blood is not eternal. Death will pay with death, love will kill you.
“Speak,” he whispered, and the uncontrollable fierce anger that sounded in his voice echoed in a threatening echo throughout the cave, “make the fire tell you all who she is, in whom the power of life is stronger than the blood of centuries.
“There has never been and never will be like her on earth,” Madeleine whispered as if in deep oblivion.
“She will combine beauty, daring and noble, and the heart of a hero. She will be half human, half dream. Even a magical dream is unable to reflect the purity of beauty that will be embodied in it. She is the one that is more beautiful than anyone in the world, she is eternal love herself, and her name will say everything for herself. Dreams and dreams will merge in it, and the only sincere love in this world of darkness.”
Words with sharp pain burst from her chest, as if someone else spoke for her, causing her unbearable pain, her body shook in silent sobs. The desire to know everything instilled even greater madness in his cruel heart.
– Who? he said. – Tell me who is she?”
“A dream,” the girl whispered, and the fire in her eyes flashed with renewed vigor, “the daughter of the most beautiful queen in the world, the beauty of her heart will become your death.”
She slowly, with difficulty, turned to face him. Her weak body was trembling violently, life was leaving the dying soul, but the power of the fire gave determination to her heart. She held out her hand to the man in black, and the fire illuminated the girl’s beautiful face. Slowly, drawing out the words, as if in some kind of dream, she. With difficulty moving her dead lips, she whispered barely audibly:
“Maerlin, beware of her,” these words, the last words of life before death came, echoed madly and menacingly through the caves.
Her prophecy confirmed what the bloody demon had known for centuries.
No matter what evil has settled in this sinful world, no matter what pain the darkness and hatred of misfortune may harbor, but, like eternal love, a true dream is immortal, and it is able to avenge itself with an even greater evil of its beauty. Having uttered the last words that took the last drop of life from the dying body, the beauty shuddered. The last cry of pain and inhuman fear froze on her lips, and her eyes stared into the void with their unseeing gaze. The imprint of death again lay on the beautiful face, the last spark of life extinguished, giving way to cold and terrible death.
The death of a young beauty could not strike pity in the demon’s cruel heart. He silently looked at her bloody corpse with his icy gaze, in which there was a glimpse of gloating.
“You are dead, fire witch,” he whispered with a cold grin, “but your flame in its last hour could not tell the truth. The joys of life will not destroy me. I am eternal with my bloody curse. As long as it lives, so do I. You are my death, but of the two of us, it is not I who will die, but you, Maerlin, the eternal dream.
He clenched his hand into a fist, and the witch’s body jerked in the last moment of life and froze, bleeding. At that very moment, at the other end of the cave, the blonde beauty cried out in horror, and the gaze of the black devil immediately turned to her. She was here again, against all odds, like an angel of light and revenge for her lost love. Her lush hair was disheveled, and an expression of horror and pain was frozen on her face and in her blue eyes in the light of the darkness. They stood opposite each other: an angel of light and an angel of darkness, black and light beauty, an idol of revenge and an idol of darkness, but something brought them closer together in the moment of witchcraft death.
“Why did you do this,” she whispered as if in disbelief. – Why did you kill her?
Her questioning gaze could not find an answer on the impassive face of the bloody demon.
“You killed my love, and you killed my life,” the fear on her beautiful face suddenly gave way to wild rage, “I hate you, I hate you,” she shouted, “let the fire witch’s prediction turn out to be true. You cannot defeat the dream itself.
She darted from her place with her last cry of rage and rushed out of the castle, and the bloody demon grimly looked after her, bursting into evil and cruel laughter.
He turned and looked at the fire that flashed with the anger in his eyes.
“Forces of darkness, forces of blood, forces of hell,” he whispered, and his wild whisper merged with the hiss of fire, “catch up with her, hold her back, instill fear in her soul, defeat the dream of her beauty.
She did not hear his words, she quickly ran out of the castle into the cold of the dark night. She felt evil around her, wanted to run away from him, but she did not know from which side it could attack her. She looked around. The summer night was quiet. The full moon shone in the gloomy skies above the gloomy castle and its rock, illuminating everything with its golden light.
The beauty rushed away along the narrow path, but immediately a thorn scratched her. Thickets of thorny branches grew in her path, where before there was no shadow of them. Her hands were scratched, and blood oozed from them to the hem of her tattered dress, but she ran forward through the thickets of thorns, farther and farther from the blue hell that had taken her love and life, and now threatened her with death. The thorns grew thicker and thicker, a whole forest of it grew around a small path. It clung to her hair, tore at her dress and scratched her face. On her way, bloody ghosts stood up, crying, threatening, beckoning, demanding that she returns.
“Turn around,” shouted the fiery ghost of a bloody Madeleine, “look what your dreams have done to me, my sister.
She ran on, oblivious to the screams of the ghosts or the numerous scratches from the thorns.
“Help me, Emily,” Madeleine shouted to her.