The Story of Kai and Gerda

Dear readers! This story was written for a contest, and it rewrites an old film about the New Year and New Year's magic. I invite you to guess which specific film I've reinterpreted in my own way))

A woman hurried through the long, gloomy passages of a Gothic palace. The staccato of her heels echoed off the ancient walls, scattering the shadows lurking there. Suddenly, her path was blocked by a pillar of golden light.

"You," the stranger was not surprised by this apparition. For a woman, she was very tall. Her correct, symmetrical face was too pale, with slightly puffy bright red lips and a small straight nose. But the main feature in the face of the beautiful witch,

the highest-level energy vampire, Cassandra Mallian, were, of course, her eyes. They drew attention, seemed to see right through anyone, all passions, desires, all the secrets of the human soul were open to those light-blue indifferent eyes.

"Me," a male voice answered her just as quietly and calmly. The golden glow grew more and more muted, outlining a male silhouette. Tall and broad-shouldered, the man stretched out his hands to the woman. Then he quietly said something to her.

"For the seventh time, I answer—I agree," she smiled.

The dark corridors were again flooded with soft golden light. But the witch frowned, waved her open palm, and the light went out.

"Gor, I have absolutely no time. Tomorrow is my birthday, and so much needs to be prepared..." The man only sighed and handed her an elegant vial on a golden chain, inside which crimson highlights shimmered.

"I have thirteen hearts, gifted by you. Let's stop at this lucky number," Cassandra smiled, admiring the reflections in the vial.

"You need strength, Cassie..."

"If you became mine, you would have no need for the humiliating search for donors..."

"I know, my love," Cassandra replied calmly, "but I don't want to become too dependent on you..."

Slowly and smoothly, the golden glow left the god, and before the woman again stood a tall, broad-shouldered man.

She impulsively hugged him, looked into his bright blue eyes:

"Is it hard to love a witch?"

"It's hard. Knowing you are not loved."

"You are loved..." A kiss muffled Cassandra's voice.

Their kiss was as hot as it was brief. Not daring to delay his beloved any longer, Gor ran his hand over her back in a tender, loving gesture, and when she disappeared into the dark passages, he opened a small portal and stepped into it.

He found himself right in the inner courtyard, where he almost knocked over a young witch, Cassandra's assistant.

"Oh, Master Gregorio... Blessed be you."

"I will be, Gerda, I will be. By your lips, may I drink honey, blessed be you too. You are glowing so, even my old heart rejoices. Let me guess, you're in love?"

The girl lowered her eyes and blushed. She had no idea of Master Gregorio's true nature, considering him simply a powerful light mage.

"Yes..." the little witch whispered quietly, "he... He's wonderful!"

"I'm happy for you. Allow me to give you a small gift," and Gor handed her a vial on a golden chain.

"What is this, Master Gregorio?" Gerda asked, admiring the crimson highlights.

"It's a heart. A loving heart," Gor said, calming the frightened girl, stroking her lush blonde hair. "Its owner died defending his beloved. So let his heart protect your love, dear girl," and he himself put the chain around the young witch's neck. She beamed, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed the mage on both cheeks. After which they said goodbye very warmly, Gerda traced a tender vortex of her movement towards the small drawing room, and Gregorio created a portal and went about his business.

Neither the god nor the young witch knew they were being watched from a balcony. A gaunt man squinted his eyes maliciously, snorted, and smoothed a long strand of hair on his balding crown with his palm. He twisted his thin lips, turned on his heels, and left, heading to his chambers. As soon as he entered under the palace vaults, something emerged from the wall, having merged with it until then. The golem was the personal servant of the dark mage Massacre, which gave him considerable advantages. Like no other creature, it could hide among the stonework, making it an ideal spy in the castle. This ability of his compensated even for the creature's incredible stupidity.

"Follow her. Be silent. Report to me."

"Report silently?" the golem froze, puzzled.

"Report to me! You don't have to be silent in my presence, idiot!"

"Understood. Report not silently, idiot."

"Don't repeat 'idiot,' idiot!"

"Don't repeat not silently, idiot, idiot," Massacre waved his hand irritably and the golem disappeared.

In the small drawing room, Gerda was surrounded by friends—witches and mages, a couple of incubus friends Ubri and Obri, and even the werewolf Mark Tullius, tamed by one of the witches.

"Well, tell us, who is he? Where did you pick him up? Is he human?" questions poured in. She sat down on a small sofa, gratefully accepted a glass of red wine offered to her by the silent werewolf, and began her story.

"We met at Beltane (the night of April 30-May 1, author's note). Remember, I flew to relatives? And there was a celebration there. He's a mage, light and very powerful. Oh, and do you know his name? Kai! Evan Kai!"—the curtains billowed from the collective laughter and several candles went out—"and tomorrow I'm flying to him too..." Gerda smiled shyly.

"I did a divination—a ring awaits there!" one of the little witches shoved a tangled ball of thread into her hands.

"Well, you blew it, buddy, nothing was in the cards for me!" the tall, fair-haired Ubri poked his friend in the shoulder.

"Well, I don't know, it's Beltane—everything can still turn around. May is pendulous and that's it!" the short Obri winked slyly at his friend.

"Don't feed me that line, philosopher. Pay up the debt, since you lost the bet!"

"Ubri, I... it's..." the short one lowered his eyes, shyly hiding his lecherous green eyes.

"What? We just recently... Turned all your share's water into wine again?!" Obri's cheeks, pink from constant indulgence, turned even redder. But they weren't heard—the conversation in the small drawing room continued.

"But, Gerda, tomorrow is the birthday of the... herself..." The dark-haired Bast eloquently pointed her finger at the ceiling, "and you are her assistant."

"I've already done everything. The menu—the chefs are already working, the wine list is written. And the invitations were sent out even before Samhain (Halloween, Oct 31-Nov 1, author's note). Only the music is left—and I was looking for the best of the best," she smiled slyly, "and I found them! Here, look," she gently ran her finger over her smartphone screen and everyone heard the lively "Zvyenit yanvarskaya viyugaaa, i livni khleschut upryugaaa, i zvyozdy mshatsya pa krugu i gremyat garadaaa!" (A playful, distorted version of a Russian New Year's song lyric, implying a band's style)

"I was afraid they wouldn't come to us, because tomorrow people celebrate the New Year. But... considering how much we're paying..." Gerda straightened up proudly, "tomorrow morning I'll fly to get them, direct them here, and I'll stay. Evan will be there, and I'll ask the mistress for permission to celebrate the new year with my relatives."

"Clever girl! Talking these Vanillas into it—that's worth a lot!" Ubri kissed the girl on the cheeks, ignoring his friend's jealous look.

And even the sensitive werewolf didn't notice how a face appeared on the stonework of the wall. And immediately disappeared.

Evan Kai sat in the greenhouse and looked at his phone screen. Suddenly, someone snorted into the back of his neck. He turned around and almost dropped his phone.

"Holy tangerines! What is that?!"

"An experiment," a sky-blue unicorn with violet eyes paced before him, lightly tapping its hooves, "calculating the morphing scheme of a mythological creature. Judging by your reaction, successful."

"You'll give me a heart attack with your experiments," but Evan had already calmed down, looking lovingly at his sister in her new form. Niin, his twin, was exactly five minutes older than Evan, and it was she who got the morphing abilities, thanks to which she could transform into any organic (and, if desired, inorganic) creature. Of course, with a certain limitation: its structure had to remain complex enough to contain a mind. Evan became a light mage. Very powerful, but only a mage.

The little unicorn stretched towards her brother and glanced at the phone display. On it, a brown-eyed, blonde-haired girl kept blowing a curl off her cheek, wrinkling her nose amusingly and smiling.

Evan looked at his sister:

"Well, what do you think of her?"

"A witch. But seems kind of plain. I know her—Madame Mallian's personal assistant."

"I hope she becomes light."

"Yeah right, in that kind of environment..."

"That's why I'm trying to win her over."

"You're doing a poor job. Our girls say you need to..."

"Oh, listening to your girls—you'll end up walking into the dark side yourself!"

"And you will—for your beloved!"

"Hey, don't try to sell me your glittery stuff, okay! Go on, you're being waited for in the stall, little unicorn."

"Says the mage! By the way, to alter a morphing scheme like this—a mage wouldn't manage."

The guy raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

"Agreed. Perfect calculation and you're a perfect mythological creature," he glanced at the gif once more and put away his phone.

"Evaaan... Have you two already... had it?"

"Had what?"

"Well, that..."

"I'll show you right now what was and what wasn't!" Squealing, Niin galloped away, and Evan sat down again, thoughtfully plucking orchid petals.

He remembered the previous Beltane (night of Apr 30 - May 1, author's note), when he saw the laughing blonde at the celebration. One dance, then another. He was tormented by a strange shyness, and she smiled only with her eyes. And a long conversation, when it seemed to both that they had known each other for an eternity. A walk under the bright May stars. He squeezed her miniature fingers in his large palm, as if not believing himself, stealing glances at her upturned nose and unruly curl that kept falling onto her cheek. She blew it off, wrinkling her nose amusingly. And the dawn met on a bridge. Hiding her from the morning chill, he hugged her fragile shoulders—and was amazed at how familiar and dear this gesture felt.

Then there were texts—thousands and thousands.

"Good morning, kitten!" — "I don't want to get up, I don't want to!" — "And I'll kiss you!" — "I love you"

They repeated the word "love" hundreds of times a day—and each time it seemed new...

Short meetings, tender kisses, her timidity and shyness—all of it formed a picture, laid down with brushstrokes, highlights, droplets of happiness.

Gerda ran into the hall excited, flushed. The wind had tousled her hair, she was joyfully dancing on the spot.

"I won! Broom races—and I was the first to finish!" she jumped around Evan, laughing.

"I saw. I was rooting for you, kitten," hugging her, he gently kissed her upturned nose, "want some champagne?"

"Yes. And to sit down somewhere quieter," she brought the glass to her lips but didn't drink, gazing thoughtfully somewhere.

"My love, maybe... forget them all? Come to my place?" the girl looked into his eyes, smiled, distantly and tenderly.

"Let's go," Gerda stood up, and he led her away, and with each step the noise of the ball receded, finally, the door to his room closed, leaving them alone.

Evan looked at the girl—bright makeup and a dress with a revealing neckline made her look older and even a bit alien. Perhaps that's what helped him decide—he kissed her on the lips, then on the neck. Gerda pressed against him, returned the kiss, and didn't pull away when the young man's fingers found the zipper of her dress. The bright red silk slid down with a quiet rustle, leaving the girl in her underwear, stockings, and shoes. He picked her up in his arms, carefully seated her on the bed, and himself knelt beside her. He took off one shoe, styled like an old-fashioned slipper, and was amazed—it was so small it fit in his palm. As he pulled off her stockings, he covered the tender skin of her thighs and round knees with kisses, sometimes looking up at her from below. Gerda sat, her fists pressed into the sheets, watching Evan's face intently and slightly tensely. And he straightened up, took her hand and kissed the tender palm, smelling unfamiliar tropical flowers.

Carefully undoing the bra clasp, he freed her breasts, and the young man's hands seemed the only possible vessel for these cool, snow-white rounded shapes with protruding dark berries of swollen nipples. He didn't want to hold back—and, trembling with excitement, pressed his lips to the teasing cherry. He felt Gerda's breath catch and her heart skip a beat. Evan stood up, not taking his eyes off the girl, unbuttoned his shirt, which had long been choking him. As if hearing his thoughts, Gerda silently, without breaking eye contact, lay on her back, awkwardly covering her breasts with her hands.

The girl's breathing became more and more ragged, she began to moan softly.

When Evan pulled down the gossamer panties, she flinched slightly but lifted her hips, helping him. He admired the closed petals of her virginal bud, touched them with his finger. Gerda gasped raggedly and clenched the sheets with her fists.

The guy began to caress the pink folds with his tongue, keenly listening to his beloved's state, catching every breath and quiet moan. He found a tiny, firm bead, touching which elicited the loudest moans, and now he teased it rapturously, licking the tender juices. Gerda gasped, moaned, writhed—and this gave the young man pleasure. With some incredible instinct, he understood she was on the edge, and intensified his caresses. The girl's body arched helplessly with pleasure, she