Book: The forest on the other Side

- Fate is very whimsical. And our gods sometimes like to play a joke with mortals, so that they don’t relax and think that if they make sacrifices on time, then the wind will be fair in all directions and Odin himself will personally patrol around their estate. You should always rely on yourself.

Prophetic Vila no longer helps him. The invincibility it gave is no longer there. But does this mean that he himself no longer owes her anything and is free to live as he wants? This is what seemed most important to him now.

He was right again. The Varangians stayed with her when their own betrayed her. And it’s stupid to blame them for caring about themselves too.

And something changed: he became himself, and not part of the vague mass of people, he began to speak as if from himself and felt less confident. And Zimobor looked at him intently and affably - without a threat, but in such a way that a healthy man, old enough to be the father of this curly-haired guy, felt a desire to lower his eyes. From the brown, shining eyes of the young prince, entire generations of people, accustomed to rule, accustomed to looking at the world from above, from the back of a war horse, looked at him. Their world was wide and vast, and the elder, whose white light had always been closed by the flow of the Sezha - two or three transitions from beginning to end - suddenly became timid in front of this world, realizing for the first time its enormity. He vaguely knew that somewhere there were the Dnieper and Sozh, and this guy saw them and drank their water.

The gods show the way with a ray across the sky, but walk along the earth yourself, feeling all the gullies with your feet.

The chosen one was going to go with the army and even regretted that she would have to stay behind and the road to the battle itself would be closed to her. Danger meant nothing to her, even death seemed like a trifle compared to this painful and anxious expectation.

Smolensk doubted her because she was a woman, and other people’s doubts made her doubt herself.

“Well, show me,” the invisible Zimobor agreed calmly. - So you’ll spend your whole life proving to everyone and fighting with yourself? This is how you live your life in war. Is this your happiness?

- Well, you said it! - Zimobor did not get angry, but laughed, as if he had heard utter stupidity. -Have you seen the sun? Have you noticed that winter and summer alternate, that people are born and die, like grass and trees, like the stars themselves? And if you have seen all this, how can you say that there are no gods? Doesn't this mean denying the obvious?

When Yarila grows up and at the end of spring becomes a husband from a youth, he becomes Perun. And when Perun descends through the circle of the year and grows old, in the fall he becomes Veles. But the three of them are one, but in different incarnations. Unclear? You don't need to understand this. You have to feel it. So... - Zimobor made a movement with his hand, imitating a fish in the water. - Just feel it. That one and the same thing can be different things at the same time and go through all the stages, remaining itself. If you understand, you will know what man is and what God is.

They used to say about this mold growing in unwashed dishes: “Pavsikakiy has started” - in memory of one annoying Greek named Pavsikakiy, who lived in Polotesk a couple of years ago and did not give anyone a pass with stories about the Greek god. Then he went off to preach somewhere in the woods and happily disappeared there, but the saying remained.

All the gods, in the end, one. Only we call them. But the one who really understands at least one of them actually understands all.

They gave her not just a home, a shelter, and dignity - his hope for her they gave her a precious feeling of being wanted, and it turned out to be, was it more expensive for the government itself.

Most importantly, not to drop his honor. And for those who have retained the honor, comes and good luck.