«Closing the soul of history: Revel collection» 2
«Closing the Soul of History2»is a mystical tale in medieval Revel, blending history and the supernatural. Apothecary Burkhardt, knight von Palen, and witch-cat confront dark forces linked to the cursed monk Brother Eligius, who sought forbidden knowledge. Artifacts like Lucifer’s Tear and the Heart of Judas hold destructive power. Through time travel, battles, and rituals, they strive to prevent catastrophe, exploring themes of faith, sacrifice, and the struggle between light and darkness.
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© Pavel Groznov, 2025
ISBN 978-5-0065-7986-6
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«Closing the soul of history: Revel collection» 2
«Even in the deepest darkness there is hope for the light.»
The trouble is the venerable (Latin Beda Venerabilis) -the English monk-Benedictan, theologian, historian and writer. The first scientist who used the reckoning «from the Nativity of Christ» (Anno Domini). (c. 673—735)
Introduction. Celtic rune
«Even in the deepest darkness, there is hope for light.»
Bede the Venerable (Latin: Beda Venerabilis) – an English Benedictine monk, theologian, historian, and writer. The first scholar to use the dating system «from the birth of Christ» (Anno Domini). (c. 673—735)
Introduction
Celtic Rune.
On the blessed day of Easter, when the bells rang out through the streets of Revel, reminding the congregation of the miracle that occurred in Jerusalem when life triumphed over death, the hearts of the townspeople were filled with joy and hope. In the pharmacy located on Town Hall Square, there was an atmosphere of peace and tranquility. Warm sunlight streamed through a small window, making the dust particles floating in the air appear as golden sparks.
Apothecary Jens Burkhardt, waking up, raised his head and looked around. Damn it, he had dozed off, and just now, when the ancient tome, bound in darkened leather, concealed secret recipes, forbidden spells, and mysterious prophecies recorded by dozens of laws of alchemists and magicians, was finally in his hands. He had searched for this book for sixteen long years across Europe, and it turned out to be right next door, in the library of the neighboring town of Tartu. The double price paid to the courier for speedy delivery weighed heavily on him, but the book was worth more than any precious trinket. And now, as soon as he opened the tome, sleep overcame him – it was the strain with which the scholar had longed for this book.
The alchemist was sure that hidden within these pages was the formula for the prima materia. Not that he sought to turn lead into gold – no, the pharmacy provided a stable income, and greed did not consume his soul. His faith in Christ gave him the knowledge that immortality had already been granted to man by God. His true dream was to create a universal medicine – a panacea for all ailments. The air, filled with the anticipation of a miracle, lingered in the room, illuminated only by the dim light of a candle. The scent of herbs and medicines mingled with the smell of old leather and dust, creating an atmosphere of mystery and antiquity. Burkhardt’s heart raced in anticipation of a discovery that might change the world.
To shake off the drowsiness, Jens washed his face with icy water, invigorating him as well as strong coffee would. After brewing a whole pot of contraband coffee, he offered a silent prayer for the blessing of his endeavor and opened the book once more. Jens Burkhardt leaned over the ancient tome, his fingers carefully turning the pages covered with mysterious symbols. The heart of the alchemist raced in anticipation of a discovery that might change the world. But, it seemed, it was not meant to be today to delve into the ancient work. An unexpected knock at the door, familiar and recognizable, announced the arrival of an old friend, Wolfram von Palen. Something was clearly amiss, for a visit at such a late hour did not bode well. The apothecary sighed and went to open the door.
«She’s burning again,» Wolfram said as he entered the room.
On the chosen one’s arm, the Celtic rune flickered ominously – three intertwined spirals, symbolizing the past, present, and future. This sign, obtained by him through magic, served to warn the knight of impending danger to the city from dark forces.
«What could it be? The city is calm right now,» Wolfram asked, his voice filled with concern.
«Calm?» Jens scoffed. «Peace is just an illusion. Darkness is always nearby, ready to break free at any moment.»
Warmth and light filled Revel on this festive day. Tomorrow, an Easter fair was to unfold in Town Hall Square, promising a gathering of people coming from all over Livonia.
«We need to be on guard,» the knight said, rubbing the magical sign that pulsed restlessly. «Let’s listen to what these merchants and onlookers are gossiping about. Perhaps we’ll hear something useful.»
The apothecary, a man with a curious mind and an insatiable need for new adventures, nodded.
«Do you remember the innkeeper at „The Herring’s Tail,“ the red-haired rogue known as Cunning Hill?»
«He won’t miss a single word spoken over a mug of ale in any corner of the tavern. We need to warn him to pay attention to what will be said about the manifestations of dark forces.»
They postponed their plans until morning, deciding to enjoy the last moments of peace over a cup of coffee. But fate, as always, had its own designs on them. The door, though oiled with particular care, creaked open, and destiny itself decided to disrupt their tranquility. An icy air, as if from a tomb, swept into the room from the corridor, causing the friends to shudder.
