Book: Mnogabukav. Book for

She lives and waits. Lives and hopes. She dies last and it never dies.
She cannot die because she will come Hatred. Hope should stick to the latter.

Bonfires. Dozens of fires, in several rows, and each writhing burning alive a witch.
Burning from thrown matches the forest.
The flaming cars.
Ovens of the crematoria in the concentration camps.
Red-hot pliers in the hands of the executioner.
Fields, covered with the powder smoke.
Bonfires of manuscripts.
And much, much more.
- But there is a bright side! in desperate objects to Prometheus. - Fire's warmth, it's light, it's hot food. The fire's progress!
Eagle slowly turns the mirror back to the blanket. Mocking caws and flies away.
- You should liver extracted...

The dragon crawled into the cave, and in a moment dragged out the Princess.
- Here, take it.
- She's my-Ah-Ah-Ah! - howled in the cave. - I found it!!!
- Shut up, snake! sternly barked the dragon's shoulder. - I told you not to bring into the house all living creatures? You see, her owner was found. And you're already in crocodiles the aquarium, nowhere to go.
He turned to knight and awkwardly shrugged.
The child that it take. The cat on the street will pick up, then the sheep. Now the Princess dragged. And my princesses are allergic!

The dragon stood up and, limping, went into the cave. After some time he reappeared, leading by the hand the Princess.
- On. Here's your prize.
- Are you kidding??? - yelled the knight. - What do I do with this woman??? I'm a Templar, a servant of the Church!! Where Is The Holy Grail??
- How do I know?
- And who should know?
The dragon shrugged his shoulders and gasped when his left shoulder was very painful.
- Man, that's your problem. Take it?
- FIE on you!
The knight cursed, gathered his weapons, he sat on his horse and left.
- What if he came for me? - asked the Princess.
- Well, then I would put him the Grail - chuckled the dragon.

- Good... very good - mused the dwarf and pulled ears. - Knees, of course, tense, and the rebound is weak... but overall quite bearable. Let's record book, young man.
- Offset? - enthusiastically whispered the knight.
- Ladder, ' said the dwarf, and with a flourish signed the parchment.
- I? - blandly asked the dragon, prilazhivaya head.
- And you, - has frowned the dwarf, to prepare for the retake. Losers!

The dragon took out the account book and opened to the last page.
- Here sign. And here. With you forty-eight rubles sixteen kopeks. Split into payments?
"No," sullenly growled Ivan, counting the money.
- Keep the receipt - dragon handed Ivan a piece.
"Taken:
comb - 1 PC.
mirror - 1 PC.
towel painted - 1 PCs.
the horse in the gray/brown/shaggy (underline) - 1 PC.
Vasilisa Mikulishna - 1 PC.
Condition:
Beautiful.
Received:
I. D. Prince.
Passed:
Z. Dragon
The number: _________
Signature:______ _______"
- That's it! - Dragon slammed the Ledger and didactically raised a clawed finger. - Most importantly - accountability!

The Princess pouted. Of course she knew that no knight on a white horse would voluntarily propose to her - tall and lanky pimply. And no knight himself is foolish not to mess with a dragon. But if you combine these two stimuli... Yes, then she has a chance.

- So this is what... the dwarf blinked confused, is coming out, right? All that You said? What about the fact that life is a game and we are all doomed in it... in a circle, without end, without a choice... You will not be deceived these... these...
- He lied, of course, - smiled the Lord, and in his smile was apparent triumph. You always have a choice. There is not one label, but two. You can start the game again, but you can...
What?
- To exit the game.

I don't like this place, ' muttered the Dwarf.
- It's not obliged to like anyone, - shrugged his shoulders the Half-elf. - Importantly, this is the place.

The ability to manage and ability to reach the top - it's two completely different talent. And they very rarely go together.

In high school, the future Dark Lord, then still a teenager, taught: "When the hour of the decisive battle, ask that the main character has against you personally. Will be that you killed his father, or uncle, or mentor, or best friend. And then you bitterly laugh and say that you are his father/uncle/mentor/friend. The Goodies in this plan is very trusting."

Moreover, his prophecies always unpleasantly struck by the abundance of concrete details. Real prophets do not write. Prophecies are supposed to look hazy and ambiguous, and to present them should the archaic language, it is better in poetry - this style Athanasius was never able to master.

Worlds each creates for itself and from itself. No more of that.

It is very easy to have good relations with those to whom can't reach it.