Methodius Buslaev. The Midnight Wizard

Дмитрий Александрович Емец

Мефодий Буслаев #1

Р’ РљРЅРёРіРµ Судеб записано, что Мефодий Буслаев пройдет лабиринт Храма Вечного Ристалища РІ день своего тринадцатилетия. Мальчишка, родившийся РІ минуту полного солнечного затмения, впитал тайный страх миллионов смертных. Р?менно тогда РІ нем пробудился дар. Благодаря своему дару, РЅРµ осознавая того, РѕРЅ аккумулирует РІ себе самые разные энергии окружающих: любви, боли, страха, восторга, злости – Рё трансформирует РёС… РІ абсолютную магию. Его дар Рё то, что РѕРЅ вынесет РёР· Храма Вечного Ристалища, нужны стражам РўСЊРјС‹, нужны Рё стражам Света… Как, сделав выбор между Светом Рё РўСЊРјРѕР№, остаться СЃРѕР±РѕР№? РќР° этот РІРѕРїСЂРѕСЃ Мефодию придется искать ответ самому…

Dmitrii Emets

Methodius Buslaev. The Midnight Wizard

Prologue

Tibidox. Office of Sardanapal.

Three years after the birth of Tanya Grotter and seven years before her appearance on BuyanIsland.

A fire was blazing in the fireplace of Sardanapal Chernomorov, the head of Tibidox. The pithecanthropus Tararakh was sitting by the fireplace and roasting shashlik threaded on a sword. The meat was sizzling tastily and intermittently shooting drops of fat. “Of course, it’s not bad mutton, but no comparison to mammoth nonetheless, some tears!” Tararakh grumbled. “And what am I roasting with? Seven magicians in the school, all smart – horror, one is even an academician – and you’d think at least someone could find the time to conjure up a normal skewer. Thankfully, Two hundred years ago I took away Marshal Davout’s sword. A good sword – just right for twelve pieces.”

Tararakh did not exaggerate. In the office of the academician were actually all seven Tibidox instructors – Sardanapal himself, the Great Tooth, Yagge, Slander, Medusa, Nightingale O. Robber and Professor Stinktopp. Moreover, they were in a situation, which could not be called pleasant in any way.

Sardanapal’s moustaches intermittently trembled hopelessly. A gold clip firmly kept their rebellious tips at the back of his head. This was a sure sign that the head of the Tibidox School was disposed to a serious manner. “I have two pieces of news: poor and abysmal. Which one should I begin with?” the academician asked.

“Sardanapal, take pity on an old woman. Begin with the poor. I’m finishing knitting a cap for Yagunchik. If I make a mistake now, I’ll have to take apart a lot,” Yagge remarked carefully, raising her eyes from the knitting needles.

“No-no, don’t be over-modest! Don’t age the old folks, they’re younger than fine young folks! Has she forgotten how to charm knitting needles so that they knit by themselves?” the Great Tooth smiled.

“My Yagunchik doesn’t like conjured caps. He said that his ears cannot find room in them,” objected Yagge. Little Yagun, lively like mercury, was the pet of Granny and a big problem for the rest of Tibidox. He could not stay in one place at all. They had removed him several times from the vacuum half way to Bald Mountain, and once they found him by the Sinister Gates, which he was trying to open with a nail, using it like a master key. A minor detail prevented him: the nail turned out to be a centimetre short. “Yes, Yagunchik’s ears are rare. I won’t be surprised if the boy plays dragonball well. They’ll allow him to decrease flying speed rather well, gradually and smoothly, and make sharp turns,” nodded Nightingale O. Robber.

Sardanapal reproachfully gave a cough. “This morning I finished some calc