The Girl with No Name
Copyright 2013 by Edward -EC-
EC's Erotic Fiction - http://www.asstr.org/~caligula97030/

(warnings: public nudity, sex between adults, corporal punishment, maledom, 
humiliation, war violence, occult, language)

Chapter Six – The Graveyard of Virtue

The architecture of Sevérckt nad Gorádki was similar to the northwestern section 
of Danka's hometown of Rika Héckt-nemát, where the city's wealthier families 
lived. However its setting was completely different. Instead of sitting in a flat 
river valley, Sevérckt nad Gorádki was built on a hill and surrounded by steep 
hills and mountains. The only fields were located along the road approaching 
from the south: the forests began immediately on the north side of the town. The 
city's inhabitants were mostly wealthy, because apart from working as a house 
servant, there was nothing in the area for poor people to do.

Bagatúrckt took his companion to a friend's house, which was one of the largest in 
the city. The friend was absent on a hunting trip, but he had left instructions with 
the servants to let Bagatúrckt stay overnight and use the guest suite. The servants 
led the travelers to the nicest room Danka had ever seen. For the first time in her 
life she saw vases that had been imported from China and rugs imported from 
Persia. There was a huge fluffy bed with the covers turned down.

Bagatúrckt ordered the servants to bathe his woman, re-braid her hair, and make 
sure she had something to eat. The experience turned out to be very strange and 
unsettling, because the servants told the penitent that she was to keep her hands at 
her sides and let them wash her and fix her hair. She stood quietly as the women 
soaped and lathered her body, paying special attention to her vulva and bottom. 
They volunteered only one observation: "everything must be perfect for the 
Master." Even after eating, Danka was not allowed to clean her own teeth. One of 
the servants held her wrists while the other carefully rubbed fine salt mixed with 
mint extract around her teeth and gums.

In the meantime, he retired to the bathhouse and got cleaned up as well. He did 
not bother to get dressed. Oddly enough, even though they had just spent two days 
traveling together, she had not yet seen him unclothed. In a few moments that 
would change.

When Danka entered the room, she was a bit shocked to see her love naked, even 
though she fully expected to surrender her virginity that day. She was 
excited...she was about to find out what it was to quit being a girl and start being a 
woman...and with the best man she possibly could have.

Bagatúrckt started out tenderly. He wanted to make sure she was aroused and 
relaxed to make the session as pleasurable for him as possible. Virgins didn't 
come along very often, so he was careful to take full advantage of one whenever 
he had the opportunity. He moved her hand to his stiffening penis.

"Grab it. Not too tight. Move your hand up and down, slowly."

When Danka complied, he went completely erect within seconds. He moved his 
fingertips to her vulva, gently tracing the opening to make sure she was wet. Yes, 
she was. He touched her clitoris and teased her. Good. The girl was ready.

"Lie on the bed. Spread your legs. You will understand the first time will hurt, but 
that pain is the Creator's way of letting you know you are fulfilling your duty to 
me. Your suffering is a blessing in the eyes of the Creator. You would be wise to 
remember that and obey what I tell you."

The mood of the room immediately changed as soon as Bagatúrckt got on the bed. 
He pushed the penitent's thighs upward so he could get in better. He rammed into 
her as hard as he could. She felt the tissue inside tearing apart and was shocked at 
the pain. She cried out and tried to push him back, but he grabbed her hands and 
pinned her to the bed. He grunted and thrust as hard as he could...over and over. 
After-all, for a woman to understand her place with him, it was important to make 
the first time as painful as possible.

Danka cried out again, from both pain and terror. She felt like she was being 
completely torn apart.

"Bagatúrckt! Please! Hurt!"

He slapped her hard across the face.

"Of course it hurts! It's what you deserve!"

She felt his penis pulsating as he climaxed and unloaded his first round of sperm. 
He pulled out of her and she instinctively covered her injured vagina. Blood was 
coming out. Her upper thighs were covered in red. It seeped through her fingers 
and soaked her pubic hair.

Bagatúrckt didn't give her the chance to worry about her injuries. He dug his 
fingers into her hair and yanked her off the bed. Danka was crying as he 
positioned her in front of him.

"Put my penis in your mouth. Lick it off and suck until I'm hard again. I'll break 
your neck if you dare bite down on me."

Danka gagged on the taste of semen and blood, but she was terrified and 
desperate to obey. In a few minutes he was hard again, ready for another round.

"Get on the bed. On your knees. Just like you would at the Temple. Kneel before 
the Creator, Penitent."

Danka complied, even though she was shocked at the blasphemy. She spread her 
knees, arched her back, and extended her arms in front, lewdly exposing her 
bloody crotch. She was crying and trembling with fear. Bagatúrckt was totally 
aroused at the sight of blood trickling down her thighs and the girl's submissive 
posture. Her trembling body and quiet sobs added to the erotic spectacle.

"Stay in position. Do not move. If you want, you can cry out, but do not dare 
move."

Bagatúrckt picked up a heavy strap and struck hard at the girl's upturned bottom. 
She screamed and he hit her several more times. She was sobbing loudly and her 
whole body was shaking. Lovely...the blood, the welts, the crying, the fear...this 
was what made fucking a virgin so great. It was what made spending several 
weeks patiently seducing her worth it.

Bagatúrckt was more than ready for a second round. His penis was as hard as 
before, ready to pump another batch of semen into her. He moved behind her and, 
as roughly as he could, pushed inside. He was determined that nothing would 
remain of the girl's virginity when he finished with her. He was rewarded with 
more crying and more blood, although not nearly as much as the first time.

Bagatúrckt left the room to get cleaned up. Danka remained on the bed, lying on 
her side with her hands between her legs. The pillow beneath her face was soaked 
with tears, and the sheet beneath her body was soaked with sweat and blood. She 
couldn't believe how much it hurt. She was in shock, because she had not 
expected sex to be so...awful. She certainly hadn't expected her lover to be 
so...awful. 

Danka dozed off. She woke up when Bagatúrckt re-entered the room. He was still 
naked and had yet another erection. She noticed that he had a shiny glob of pig-fat 
on his fingertips.

"Lie face-down on the bed. Take that pillow and put it under your hips."

Danka was bewildered at the command. When she moved too slowly, Bagatúrckt 
picked up the strap. The penitent quickly moved to get the pillow under her and 
position herself as directed. It didn't do her any good. She screamed when he laid 
two cruel blows across her naked backside.

"You will learn to obey me, girl. You're mine now...until I say otherwise. I expect 
complete obedience."

"Yes...yes, Bagatúrckt."

"...until I say otherwise..." Those words were another severe blow to Danka's 
illusions, but she had other things to worry about. Bagatúrckt got on the bed and 
spread his lover's bottom-cheeks. He dabbed the pig lard around the girl's anus 
and put some on the tip of his penis. He pushed down, using his bodyweight to 
force himself completely inside. Danka's sphincter and intestines immediately 
protested in pain. She struggled, but he pinned her arms to the bed and held her 
tight. Once again, he wanted the experience to be as painful as possible so she 
would remember it for the rest of her life. When he finished, he hit her with the 
strap again and left the room.

Danka curled up into a fetal position and resumed crying. She would not be able 
to get back to sleep. The raw pain in her violated sphincter and the deep ache in 
her intestines added to the burning coming from her vagina and the welts from the 
strap. Besides...what other horrible things was that awful man going to do to her?

Just hours before she had been full of love and was giving thanks to the Creator, 
but now that love and gratitude were gone. She hated the Creator. She hated 
herself. She most certainly hated Bagatúrckt.

She remembered the words of her the young Priestess, spoken just a couple of 
weeks before: "...we are not supposed to hate, but I hope the Creator understands 
that my hatred of Bagatúrckt is quite justified."

Yes, Priestess, your hatred of him is justified...very justified. So...you couldn't 
have warned me? 

But Danka knew the answer to her own question. The Priestess did try to warn her, 
but was trying to avoid being too obvious. Anyhow, even had the Priestess been 
more direct about the warning, she wouldn't have listened.

----------

The house servants entered the room at sunrise and ordered Danka to accompany 
them to the bath house. She struggled to get out of bed while they watched with 
indifferent expressions. Danka blushed upon seeing all the dried blood, semen, 
sweat, tears, and smeared feces on the bed sheet. The servants didn't react, apart 
from pulling off the bedding as soon as she was on her feet. She tried to cover 
herself, but two women ordered her to put out her hands. They grabbed her wrists 
and led her out of the room.

A warm bath already was awaiting Danka when she entered the bath house. An 
older servant placed a chamber pot in the corner and ordered the guest to relieve 
herself before getting in the tub.

"It'll hurt and you won't want to do it, but you have no choice. You'll heal faster if 
you get all the piss and shit out of you now. It might feel like your Path in Life 
has ended, but it hasn't. All the virgin lasses go through this and all of them 
survived. You'll survive as well. You're no different than any of the others."

"The others? How many others?"

"Many. Every time the Master or one of his friends finds a virgin lass, they take 
her up to that room. They even gave a nickname to it: the 'Graveyard of Virtue'.

"...and Master Bagatúrckt?"

"He doesn't come here as often as the Master's other friends, but Master 
Bagatúrckt's Path in Life has taken him to the foreign lands, where he indulges 
himself, to be sure."

"...but...he's come here with other girls...virgins?"

"Yes, but today is the first time we've seen him in two years."

"Two years? And...the last time...did he have a girl with him?"

"Oh, yes he did. And that one was special. A seminary student from the Temple in 
Starívktaki Móskt. I heard him tell the Master of the house it took him months to 
convince her to come up here. He was quite proud of himself, proud that he 
indulged his desires with a virtuous woman of the Church."

As she sat on the chamber-pot, wincing while she painfully emptied her intestines, 
Danka thought about what else she should ask. The servant attending her seemed 
chatty and she needed to take advantage of that. The penitent was still devastated 
and traumatized, but she knew feeling sorry for herself wouldn't help her. She 
needed to extract herself from the grasp of Bagatúrckt, but she was in a strange 
town and couldn't do anything without more information. She decided to ask 
some more questions about the seminary student as soon as she finished and got 
into the bathtub.

"I...I was curious...how did he...convince a Temple apprentice to come up here? 
And, how did he get her out of the Temple?"

"The same way he convinced you to come up here, I'd imagine. Poetry...love 
talk...gifts..." The servant thought for a moment. "Yes...and with the seminary 
student Master Bagatúrckt talked about the Lord-Creator and the forest...yes, 
that's it...he used the name of the Lord-Creator to seduce her. He talked about the 
forest and how she'd see the best and most beautiful place the Lord-Creator had 
given to the Realm of the Living. And he did take her there, but I'd imagine, after 
what the Masters did to her, she no longer cared."

"Masters? As in...more than one?"

"Oh yes. Master Bagatúrckt humiliated that student as much as he could. After he 
deflowered her, he wouldn't let her bathe until he took her before our Master and 
two others who were visiting at the time. He made her show herself to them and 
then asked her what she thought the Lord-Creator would say about her virtue, now 
that the only memory of it was the dry blood running down her thighs. She cried 
and the men made fun of her. Finally, he did let her bathe. He indulged himself 
with her again. On the third day he took her to the chambers of the my Master and 
then presented her to the others. On the fourth day, as promised, he took her to see 
the forest." 

"But...I don't understand...why? Why would he do that...to a seminary student? 
Why humiliate her like that? What did she ever do to him to make him hate her so 
much? And...what did I ever do?"

"That question is easily answered. Master Bagatúrckt hates virtue. More than 
anything, he hates women who consider themselves virtuous. Everywhere he sees 
virtue, he tries to destroy it. My Master and the others feel the same way about 
virtuous women, although perhaps not as strongly as Master Bagatúrckt."

There was a pause and the servant continued:

"Master Bagatúrckt did not hate the seminary student and he doesn't hate you. He 
hates no one. But he hated your virtue, which is why he brought you to this house. 
Now...let me ask you something. Did you go through the door into that bedroom 
willingly, or did he force you?"

"I...I guess I went in there willingly."

"You guess, or did you enter that room according to your own wishes?"

"I went in there because I...I thought he loved me. I wanted to give myself to 
him."

"Which is indeed what you did. You willingly went through that door, and you 
willingly presented your body for him to enjoy. That is the way it has been with 
all of you. There is not a single woman who ever was forced into that room. Each 
one of you walked in there willingly."

"But it was because we were tricked..."

"No, not because you were tricked. You went in there because you only saw what 
you wanted to see. The only deception was the deception you inflicted upon 
yourself."

"But...I did it out of love..."

"Yes, just like all the others, you did it out of love. That is a problem, isn't it? 
Love is very dangerous. Love can be a blessing from the Lord-Creator, or a curse 
from Beelzebub the Destroyer. Of the two, which do you think is the most 
common?"

"I guess...for me it would be the curse."

"Not just for you. For most people it would be the curse. That is the lesson you 
will take away from this house. Love is a curse much more often than it is a 
blessing."

"So...what should I do now? Can you help me escape?"

"There's no need for you to escape. Master Bagatúrckt already took from you 
what he wanted. He'll keep you for a month or so, and then he'll find a place to 
leave you. I advise you to stay with him until that time comes, because he will 
want to be assured you are safe."

"Safe? How can I be safe? He just ruined my life!"

"Remember what I said earlier. He hates virtue and wants to destroy it. If there's 
no virtue left in you, you'll be more than safe with him. He'll want you to stay 
alive and pass that lesson to others."

"I don't want to stay with him for a month. I don't want to see him...ever. I'd 
rather..."

"Yes, you'd rather die, I know. All of you say the same thing. And if you die, 
what good would that do? Do you really want to hold up your mirror to the Lord-
Creator with your Path in Life as it is now? I wouldn't. When the month passes 
and you are left to make your own decisions again, you can fix most of what was 
broken in that room. Not all of it, obviously, but you'll be surprised how much the 
simple passing of time can repair your soul. And if Master Bagatúrckt wishes to 
take you into the forest, you should go. It has places that are worth seeing and 
knowledge you'll never obtain in the city."

When Danka did not reply, the Servant added: "There is something I can do for 
you to make sure you pass the next month without having your life disrupted any 
more than it is already."

The servant pointed at a set of shelves near the door. Mostly they contained soaps 
and perfumes, but there was one shelf containing some small brown ceramic jars.

"Take a couple of those jars on your way out and put them with your other 
belongings. As soon as your insides heal from 'the loss of your virtue', you need to 
take a finger-full of that paste and rub it completely around your womanhood. 
You need to rub it on the inside, as deep as you can. Do that once each day and if 
you can, right before sex. Do it right, and that paste will prevent you from getting 
pregnant."

"Paste? That actually works?"

"I don't know how it works, but it does. You might have noticed on the way in, 
this town does not have nearly as many children as most places around the Duchy. 
The only children who live here are the ones that were actually wanted by their 
mothers. If a woman doesn't want a baby, she uses Babáckt Yaga's paste, and the 
moon passes her by."

"Babáckt Yaga? Who's that?"

"She's an alchemist who lives up in the mountains. She's been there as long as I 
can remember, and I'm not young. Her alchemy is something to behold, because 
her potions can heal many of the curses Beelzebub the Destroyer has inflicted on 
us. Her potions can't heal everything, and she'll tell you that herself. But many 
evil things can be healed...or simply prevented, including an undesired baby. I'd 
imagine you don't want to carry Master Bagatúrckt's child?"

"No."

"That's how I can help you. Take two of those jars. You will need to wait until 
your injuries heal, or that paste will burn your insides. But once you've healed, 
you should be able to use it with no problem."

Danka stood up and reluctantly took two jars.

"I will take you back the 'graveyard of virtue'. I know the masters, and I can tell 
you something important about all of them. They become bored very quickly. Do 
what Master Bagatúrckt says. Don't resist him. Don't challenge him. Don't let him 
see your suffering. Follow that advice and he'll probably return you to the Temple 
before the next moon."

As she accompanied the servant to the guest room, Danka pondered the advice. 
She had no reason to mistrust the servant: if anything the servant had placed 
considerable trust in her by giving her those jars of Babáckt Yaga's paste. She'd 
follow the advice concerning Bagatúrckt. She'd hide her emotions, put up with his 
depravity, hope Babáckt Yaga's birth-control paste actually worked, and wait for 
him to dispose of her.

Bagatúrckt returned to the 'graveyard of virtue' a few hours later, after Danka had 
the chance to eat, rest, and accustom herself to her unpleasant circumstances. He 
ordered her to get on her elbows and knees on the edge of the bed and hold that 
position. He roughly fondled her sore vulva and shoved his fingers into her vagina. 
She bit her lip and closed her eyes, but stayed quiet.

"Hmmm...not much blood. Looks like you've healed."

"Yes, Master Bagatúrckt."

In a flash of inspiration, Danka decided to call her lover "Master Bagatúrckt" 
instead of "Bagatúrckt". She would distance herself as much as she could every 
time she had to talk to him. She would address him with the formal form of "you" 
instead of the familiar form, once again, as a means of establishing social distance. 
She would be obedient in the same way a servant had to be obedient, but she 
would be cold and indifferent around him. She would consider herself his servant, 
not his lover.

He took off his clothes and roughly took her from behind. The experience was 
painful for Danka, because she was not aroused and still was recovering from 
losing her virginity the night before. However, except for a few grunts, she did 
not make any noise. Frustrated by the lack of emotion, he grabbed the strap and 
hit her across her upturned bottom. She cried out each time she was hit, but 
struggled to keep still and keep her crying to a minimum.

"So you enjoy the strap, my little slut?"

"I am here to please you, Master Bagatúrckt. My body is for you to enjoy. What I 
want doesn't matter, does it?"

Bagatúrckt was at a loss how to proceed. He had wanted to further humiliate the 
penitent, and then drag her before his friends, to break her and make her cry even 
more. The seminary student had been a lot of fun...crying, praying...insisting that 
she loved him...and totally incredulous over everything he did to her. It seemed 
the peasant girl wasn't falling for any of that. She would not resist anything he 
wanted to do to her, but she would obey him as a mistreated servant, not as a hurt 
lover. Her attitude about having sex with him would be exactly the same as if she 
were ordered to sweep the floor or gut a chicken.

He ordered her to lick his penis. She obeyed and managed to get an erection out 
of him. He pushed her to the bed and entered her. She lay quietly, neither 
cooperating nor resisting, as she waited for him to finish. She thought to herself - 
I just have to get through this...just get through it...a month...the house servant 
told me it'll be a month...I hope it's not any more than that...

Bagatúrckt was completely disappointed. He left the room and did not return until 
sunrise the next day. He went out drinking with his friends and did not mention 
the peasant girl he had deflowered and who was still locked up in the guest 
bedroom. With her quiet sullen obedience, it was very possible the others would 
have made fun of him had he attempted to pass her around.

----------

Bagatúrckt decided to head into the mountains a couple of days sooner than he 
had originally planned. Breaking the peasant girl had turned out to not be nearly 
as much fun as he anticipated. However, as much as he wanted to get rid of her, 
he still needed an assistant to accompany him into the mountains, to attend to 
things such as cooking and grooming the horses while he searched for his 
mysterious mushrooms.

The couple rode into the hills overlooking Sevérckt nad Gorádki. The view was 
exciting: rolling sheep pastures rising higher and higher, leading up to the dark 
forest beyond. The day was beautiful and clear, allowing Danka to look south and 
observe the entire central region of the Duchy. She could see portions of the Rika 
Chorna River in the distance and, if she had a telescope with her, she would have 
been able to make out Rika Héckt-nemát and Starívktaki Móskt. It was 
fascinating to be able to see so much at once. For a few moments she enjoyed 
herself as she managed to ignore the fact she was traveling with a man she loathed.

As they entered the forest, Danka's attention was turned to keeping up with 
Bagatúrckt and trying to maintain control of a horse without knowing anything 
about riding. The spectacular view vanished: now there was nothing to look at 
except huge trees and her companion's back. They traveled slowly, because 
Bagatúrckt frequently stopped to look at a compass, consult a map, or write some 
comments in a journal. The terrain became much steeper as the afternoon wore on. 
Finally, just as the sun was setting, they arrived at clearing with a small alter and a 
campsite where they would spend their first night.

"Get us enough firewood to make it through sunrise. You are responsible for 
maintaining it. Also, start a pot of water to boil and fix us a portion of the dry 
meat in my saddlebag."

"Yes, Master Bagatúrckt"

Bagatúrckt gave Danka an irritated look but said nothing more.

After they ate and Danka washed their utensils, Bagatúrckt went to sleep. Danka 
looked at the sleeping man with complete disdain and hatred. Her acting and the 
effort to hide her emotions had been perfect, but still she was devastated by what 
he had done to her and by what he had planned to do to her. Now he was silent 
and helpless. It was nice to not have to hear his voice or deal with his stupid ideas.

Although her nemesis now was asleep, Danka never contemplated seeking 
revenge by attacking him. She still considered herself inferior to most of the 
people surrounding her. She may have become literate over the past year, but she 
remained an impoverished unmarried young woman with no title, living in a 
culture dominated by married men who owned property. Regardless of what he 
had done to her, Bagatúrckt remained a "Master" who was socially superior to her. 
After-all, he was the son of a Senior Priest. It was safe to assume that if she killed 
him and was caught, she'd face execution regardless of the motives or 
circumstances. Besides, she could not imagine the Creator was pleased with her, 
living a life of lies under a fake collar. Maybe what had happened was the 
Creator's way of punishing her for all the lies she had told over the past year. 
Certainly a murder would not improve her prospects in the After-life.

Another issue weighing on Danka was the reality that she had little experience 
dealing with men or boys. What she had witnessed during her childhood would 
not have persuaded her that women had any rights. She was used to seeing her 
father routinely beat her mother and many of her neighbors doing the same to 
their wives and daughters. She had no way of knowing whether Bagatúrckt's 
treatment of her was acceptable in the view of Danubian society. She suspected 
that it was not, but her past experiences gave her no guidance. 

As she tended the fire, the main question in Danka's mind did not concern 
Bagatúrckt at all. She was more worried about whether or not she should return to 
the Temple in Starívktaki Móskt. Apart from a safe place to sleep, there was 
nothing waiting for her there. The seminary student who had mentored her was 
gone and she had no other close friends. She certainly would never have any 
respect for the Senior Priest or Senior Priestess, considering they had raised a son 
who was so depraved and whose soul was so broken. She didn't want to study for 
the Priesthood, nor end up like those two older women who had spent most of 
their lives in the same place and doing the same thing, year after year. 

She understood that it would be better not to go back...but if she didn't, then what 
should she do?

----------

The following day the couple continued their journey, passing through a forested 
valley and crossing in front of some spectacular waterfalls. Their trek took them 
northwest and towards several streambeds. Bagatúrckt began searching in earnest 
for his mushrooms, following maps and copies of journals. A couple of times that 
day he ordered the peasant girl to get on her hands and knees. He'd take off his 
pants, enter her, and mercifully was finished within a few minutes. Neither he nor 
the girl considered it making love. For him it was little more than stress relief, for 
her it was nothing more than one of her obligations as his servant.

At the end of the second day they made camp in a clearing near a stream. It was 
an idyllic spot, worthy of a poem. Bagatúrckt scribbled one into his journal while 
the peasant girl collected firewood. As he watched her, he admired her naked 
body. He decided to include a few lines about her as well, even though he no 
longer was very interested in her. Still, she could be the source of fantasy and go 
well into a poem...

Danka started the fire, cooked, and ate a silent meal with Bagatúrckt. When he 
dozed off, she took the utensils to the stream to wash them. She decided to jump 
in and rinse off. It was a lovely evening, with a moon that was almost full and 
fireflies dancing in the woods all around her. An occasional bat or swallow passed 
overhead.

A much larger shape passed over, completely silent. Danka's heart stopped, 
because it was way too large to be a bat or swallow. She must have been 
imagining things. The shape passed over again, this time very close. It looked like 
a bird, but incredibly large. She tried to figure out where it went as it vanished 
into the black forest. The bird flew over a third time and landed on a branch near 
the river. Danka couldn't run: it seemed the streambed held her feet tight. 
Whatever that bird was, she'd have to face it or chase it off.

"Hello? Bird? Is that..."

A pair of huge eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, suddenly emerged into the 
peasant's view. She was so scared that her knees shook and her breathing became 
difficult. She felt very cold. 

From a distance she heard the hooting of an owl. Then the one close to her 
answered with a loud hoot that shot straight into the girl's bones. The eyes, which 
seemed suspended in the darkness, did not budge. They became the only thing she 
was able to see. Nothing more than a pair of large hostile eyes.

Then the owl spoke to her. He did not speak through hoots or by making any 
other sound. He spoke to her soul.

"You know your true Master, Danka Síluckt. It is I."

"No. I don't. I don't know you."

"Ahhh, but you do, Danka Síluckt. Remember what the scripture says: ' The 
Destroyer enters the Realm of the Living through the mouth of the liar'. You will 
not escape from me, liar."

Danka said nothing, but the cold terror completely filled her soul. The voice 
continued:

"You tried to ignore the warning last year. You convinced yourself it was just 
your imagination. Thought I would just go away. Why would I do that, Danka 
Síluckt? Why would I just go away and leave you in peace? Why?... Why?... 
Why?..." 

The owl's final words faded into hoots. The bird took off and flew over her head, 
so close that she felt the brush of air from his wings.

----------

The couple traveled deeper and deeper into the mountains, checking streambed 
after streambed. Bagatúrckt collected samples of rare mushrooms, but for several 
days the "the Joy of the Ancients" eluded him. He did not despair, because he 
knew the mushroom would be hard to find. His Vienna friends would not have 
wagered a purse of gold had they suspected searching for "the Joy of the 
Ancients" would be easy. He had all summer to locate his elusive treasure and a 
girl to make his life comfortable during the search. He liked the forest, at least 
during the summer and enjoyed writing in his journal.

Danka, meanwhile, lived in mortal fear. At dusk, everywhere she looked, she saw 
owls. Usually they were ordinary owls, but every so often, she'd see that owl, the 
one that carried the Destroyer's messages. 

She knew the Destroyer was watching her and waiting...but waiting for what? 
Was her own death approaching? Danka thought about the separation of her soul 
from her body, as she followed Bagatúrckt from streambed to streambed. If her 
death was about to happen, was that necessarily a bad thing? Was there any joy in 
life that she'd be leaving behind? Anyone she cared about or who cared about her? 
Did she really have anything to live for at all?

Two nights later, Danka stood in another streambed after cleaning up the 
remnants of dinner. A large black bird approached in the darkness, flew over her, 
and landed in a branch near the water. The cold feeling returned. When she tried 
to move her feet, the ground tightly held her ankles. The bird looked at her. Once 
again the moonlight illuminated his eyes.

"Danka Síluckt. Our Paths in Life merge again."

"Yes, Owl. You're...you're planning to separate my soul from my body?"

"Not yours. At least not yet. Someone else's, perhaps. Maybe I'll grant you 
another wish."

"Another wish? You haven't granted me any wishes. My only wish is for you to 
go away."

"Liar. Of course I granted you a wish, liar."

Danka momentarily saw her mother, uncontrollably sobbing and cradling a body. 
It was her sister, Katrínckta. Danka's sibling had her hair braided and was wearing 
a white dress, but she was no longer pretty. Her face was horribly swollen, with 
darkened features and an agonized appearance. Danka saw her mother's 
expression in detail. She was shrieking and mad with grief.

The illuminated eyes reappeared.

"So you see, Danka Síluckt, I do grant wishes."

The owl took off and flew over Danka's head. A cold gust of wind swept by as the 
bird passed. The ground released Danka's feet.

She fell on her hands and knees and threw up. She drank some water and tried to 
clean her teeth. She returned to the campfire and contemplated Bagatúrckt's 
sleeping body. 

That reminded her... Babáckt Yaga's paste...she hadn't the chance to put it in that 
day. She went to her bucket and retrieved a jar. Once she finished she returned to 
tend the fire. It seemed that eyes were staring at her, but she knew that nothing 
would approach her in the presence of Bagatúrckt.

A wish...well, I wouldn't mind seeing this man dead...

That thought was answered with a sensation of extreme cold sweeping through 
her body.

----------

The next day Bagatúrckt took his companion past a waterfall, the highest they had 
seen so far. He decided to leave the horses tied near the stream and find a way 
past the cascading water, to see what was above it upstream. They spent the entire 
morning climbing a steep slope, but by noon they had made their way into to a 
picturesque valley with vegetation Danka had never seen before. She looked at 
the mountain beyond, and noted that its top was covered with grass and moss, not 
trees. She would have been curious to go that way...see why there were no trees, 
but she figured Bagatúrckt would not be interested in exploring in that direction.

Bagatúrckt took off his pants and ordered her to get on her hands and knees. As 
always, she complied, but she was irritated he had to spoil her memory of the 
lovely place by wanting sex at that very moment. He finished within a few 
minutes and pulled his clothing back on. 

Danka rinsed off in the frigid water. When she glanced around at the nearby rocks, 
she noticed a strange sight among all those strange plants; mushrooms totally 
different from any she had ever seen. They were metallic bluish-green in color 
and perfectly round. They were one of the strangest things she had ever seen in 
nature: they really did not look like something a person would expect to see in the 
Realm of the Living. 

She wondered if she had found what Bagatúrckt was looking for. She was not 
thrilled about helping him, nor did she want to see him destroy those beautiful 
mushrooms, but she did want her outing with him to end and to have him depart 
from her life.

"Master Bagatúrckt. I found something. Some weird mushrooms. Maybe it's what 
you're looking for, Master?"

Bagatúrckt approached. As soon as he saw the mushrooms his expression changed. 
Danka was frightened, because his look was one of unrestrained evil glee.

"Yes. This is it. This is what I wanted. And they doubted me. All Vienna will 
know me now. The purse...it's mine...all mine...the gold...mine."

Bagatúrckt ordered his companion to stay with the first batch of mushrooms while 
he wandered up and down the stream looking for more. He returned with a cloth 
sack half full of specimens. He then proceeded to pick all of the mushrooms 
where Danka was sitting. She looked at him with disgust. If his purpose was 
merely to prove the existence of "the Joy of the Ancients" then, why not just take 
a few samples and leave the rest? Why did he have to clean out the entire 
streambed?

"All mine...'the Joy of the Ancients'...belongs to me...yes..."

Of course, there was not a single word of thanks to Danka, the person who 
actually discovered the mushrooms. After-all, she was nothing more than a 
servant and not worthy of sharing any credit.

The return trip was difficult. The slope was very steep, there was no marked trail, 
and both the man and the woman were weighted down. He had the bag of 
mushrooms that he had to be careful not to bump, and she was weighted down 
with everything that he had carried up. It was dark by the time they returned to the 
horses.

Bagatúrckt laid the mushrooms out on a cloth while Danka stumbled around 
looking for firewood. As soon as she had a fire going, the master pulled the cloth 
close to the heat to begin the process of drying the fungi. He and the servant spent 
the entire night carefully brushing off the dirt and separating the stems from the 
tops. The next day was hot and sunny, so Bagatúrckt decided to stay in the 
clearing and try to dry his loot as much as possible before returning to Sevérckt 
nad Gorádki.

They stayed two days. Except when she had to pick berries or collect firewood, 
Danka finally had the chance to sleep. She was exhausted from having spent days 
riding all day and tending fires all night. She also found it hard to close her eyes 
in the dark after being totally traumatized by her nighttime visions. During the 
day everything seemed different, which allowed her to rest.

Bagatúrckt was too worried about his mushrooms to worry about his companion. 
He built a stick platform in the sun, where he laid the cloth to allow the air to 
circulate underneath. He carefully counted the specimens and drew pictures of 
some of them. Danka knew that if she tried to take any samples or even touch 
them without permission, her master would kill her. Not touching "the Joy of the 
Ancients" was fine with her. She suspected the mushrooms were cursed by the 
Destroyer the moment they were picked and had no desire to be anywhere near 
them.

On the third morning after harvesting the mushrooms, Bagatúrckt announced that 
he was ready to return to Sevérckt nad Gorádki. The mushrooms were dry enough 
to transport. The master carefully rolled up the cloth with the mushrooms tucked 
inside and looked around for a good container. He spotted Danka's bucket. 
Without asking her permission, he grabbed it and pushed in the rolled cloth. He 
took no notice of Danka's other belongings lying at the bottom. He mounted his 
horse and tied the bucket to his saddle. Danka despaired at the thought of those 
evil mushrooms being kept in her bucket and her bucket being take away from her, 
but she said nothing. All she could hope for would be that she'd have her 
possessions returned to her as soon as they returned to Sevérckt nad Gorádki.

They moved quickly in the direction from which they came, covering in a single 
day the same distance that had taken them four days coming out. Darkness fell 
and Bagatúrckt reluctantly dismounted. They already had covered more than half 
the distance towards Sevérckt nad Gorádki, but the rest of the trip would have to 
wait until the next day. They couldn't go any further in the dark.

Danka was not thrilled about stopping. She could feel the Destroyer's presence, a 
premonition confirmed by the occasional dark shape flying overhead. She heard 
the twittering of bats...but it was not the bats that scared her. It was the owl...that 
owl...the one that was waiting for her.

Fortunately they stopped at one of their previous campsites where there was some 
spare wood left over from their last fire. Danka gladly lit it and started dinner. 
While the peasant girl was cooking, the master examined some of the mushrooms, 
to make sure they were still dry and fresh. He decided to keep three tops and three 
stems in his hand before putting the others back into the bucket. He set the bucket 
next to his bedroll and contemplated the magic he held in his hands. 

"'The Joy of the Ancients' is mine now. I am worthy of it, and it is worthy of me. 
My Path in Life is to deny myself nothing, to experience every pleasure the 
Realm of the Living has to offer. This is it: the joy that the Ancients left behind, 
the joy that transcends mere mortality. I found it, and I will share it, but before I 
do, I will not be denied. I will indulge...experience...it is my Path in Life."

Danka watched as, one piece at a time, he placed the mushrooms in his mouth and 
thoughtfully chewed them. For a while nothing happened, apart from Bagatúrckt 
staring blankly into the fire. His gaze eventually grew more vacant, but apart from 
that he seemed very relaxed. His mouth started to move, as though he were 
speaking silently. The fire was starting to die, but Danka was terrified at the 
thought of wandering into the darkness to find more firewood. She was as 
immobilized by fear as he was by his trance...or by whatever it was that was 
happening to him.

"Honor and greatness are mine...honor and greatness are what I deserve...my Path 
in Life...lead the Enlightenment....my honor..."

An owl...that owl...landed on a branch overlooking the clearing.

"Why?"

"What? Girl, what did you say?"

"I didn't say anything, Master Bagatúrckt."

"Why?"

Bagatúrckt angrily looked around: "Who said that!? Who's questioning me?"

Shaking with fear, Danka pointed at the dark shape sitting above them.

"Why?"

"Ha! Beelzebub! You! You came to take what is mine? That won't happen, 
pathetic spirit! You're nothing! A bird! A fucking owl! You can't do any better 
than become a dishonored bird, you loathsome, tiny, puny, helpless, pathetic 
apparition?"

"Why?"

Bagatúrckt ran to his horse and unsheathed his sword.

"You won't mock me, pathetic apparition! I'm so much more than you! I am the 
Creator! I'm more than the Creator, I'm the God of Rome! I'll strike you down and 
eat you for breakfast, pathetic Beelzebub!"

"Why?"

"How dare you! Now I will chase you! Now I will kill you, Beelzebub!"

Bagatúrckt mounted his horse. It was obvious that he was completely insane, 
believing he had transformed into either the Creator or the Roman God. However, 
he was more than simply a madman riding around on a horse. It seemed there 
really was something much larger in him, struggling to get out. And, why not? 
After-all, he had defiantly eaten food reserved for the Ancients. Perhaps that food 
was far more than a human body could withstand.

Mocking Bagatúrckt, the owl flew from one side of the clearing to the other, 
passing immediately in front of the master's face. He chased the bird, but the owl 
took off again and flew towards the stream.

"Why? Why?"

"How dare you! How dare you defy me! I will cut you, Beelzebub! I will cut 
you!"

Bagatúrckt led his panicked horse into the stream, but the owl changed course and 
flew back towards the camp. It landed on Danka's horse. The animal shrieked in 
panic and tore itself loose. Danka screamed as her horse galloped along the path 
and disappeared into the darkness. Bagatúrckt was wild with rage. He crashed 
around in the woods as the owl flew ahead of him, barely keeping out of his 
sword's reach. He was howling like a mad wolf. The sounds coming out of his 
mouth were no longer those of a human.

Danka stood helplessly as her master rode through the dark woods around the 
camp, screaming and cursing. The owl re-emerged into the clearing, with a man 
savagely swinging his sword in pursuit. The horse nearly trampled the penitent. 
The owl flew directly towards Bagatúrckt and openly challenged him. The man 
backed his horse directly into the fading campfire. The horse shrieked upon 
feeling the embers' heat and became as uncontrollable as his rider. He charged 
back into the trees. Suddenly in the distance there was a tremendous crash of 
breaking branches and thrashing leaves. The horse whinnied and re-emerged into 
the clearing, riderless. He did not stop. He ran towards the path and, like Danka's 
mount, galloped along the trail that led to back to Sevérckt nad Gorádki. The 
sound of hoofs became fainter and fainter. 

Danka was left standing in total silence. As much as she hated Bagatúrckt, she 
was hoping to hear his voice, even if it was nothing more than a moan or a call for 
help. For a long time she listened, but the only sounds reaching her ears were the 
normal sounds of the nighttime forest. No. He was not going to call out to her. 
She'd have to investigate, go in the direction of that crash, and see what happened. 
With every bit of courage she could summon, she carefully picked her way 
through the trees and brush, feeling her way through the darkness. 

She touched countess tree trunks, but eventually her hand landed on something at 
eye level that was not a tree. It was a large object that was not fixed to the ground, 
but hanging. She explored with her hand and realized she was touching a boot. 
Yes, and there was the other one. She felt upwards and touched a pair of legs 
clothed in thick trousers. She tugged at the corpse, but apart from swinging it a bit 
more, she was not able to budge it. And a corpse it indeed was; there was no 
question she was touching a body that had been separated from its soul. She let 
out a shriek as pulled back her hand. The sinister cold feeling swept through her 
body. She couldn't breathe. 

Calm...calm...breathe...must breathe...calm...go back...wait...  

She immediately realized how bad her situation had become. Yes, she had hoped 
to see Bagatúrckt as a corpse, but not like this. Now she was alone, in a pitch-
black forest, with no weapon except a dagger that was not even with her, no food, 
no supplies, and no horse. She didn't even have a fire, because she had neglected 
to keep it burning. Instinctually she groped her way towards the clearing, although 
really there was no point, because without a fire the clearing was no safer than 
anywhere else. The worst detail was that she couldn't see anything. The leaves 
completely blocked the sky and all source of light. She continued stumbling 
around, but she had lost all sense of direction. She was so panicked that she forgot 
about the first rule of being alone in the forest: to be a quiet as possible and listen 
for anything or anyone approaching.

Finally Danka did see light. It was a strange orange color. She was so desperate to 
see something, anything, that she instinctually stumbled towards it, without 
thinking it was very likely that light would be leading her towards, and not away 
from, danger. She continued pushing through the brush. To see...just to see. The 
light moved down and vanished. Danka despaired, because now she was 
hopelessly lost. She couldn't control her breathing and was letting out panicked 
gasps. She tried to hold her breath. To her horror she could hear the sounds of 
movement all around her.

The orange light reappeared, much closer. She screamed when she saw what it 
was, an illuminated skull. When she turned around, there was another orange 
skull behind her. There were two more on either side.

"Beelzebub... Leave me alone! What did I do? What did I do, for you to torment 
me like this?"

An old woman's voice answered back.

"Trespasser, don't you dare speak the name of the profane one in this forest!"

"You're...you're not Beelzebub?"

"I told you not to speak that name! And no, I am not!"

"Who are you?"

"And who are you, trespasser?"

"I...I'm a penitent...from the Temple...in Starívktaki Móskt."

"You're lying, trespasser. You're not from there. They don't use the Christian 
name for the profane one at that Temple. So, tell me who you are, trespasser, and 
where you're from. If I have to call you 'trespasser' again, it will be the last time 
anyone will call you anything."

"I...I'm Danka Síluckt. I'm from Rika Héckt-nemát, originally. But I was at the 
Temple. I'm not lying about that, Mistress."

"Very well, Danka Síluckt. Are there any other names in your life? Other things 
people might have called you?"

"No, Mistress...well...at the Temple they did call me 'the bloody one', because I 
was the only penitent that butchered animals...the others didn't like doing it."

"Very well, Danka Síluckt, 'the bloody one'. You will now explain to me why you 
are in these woods...what brought you here."

"I came here with my master."

"Who is your master, Danka Síluckt, 'the bloody one'? What was his business in 
this forest?"

"He's...his name is Bagatúrckt. He's from..."

"I know Bagatúrckt. And I know where he's from. And I know who he serves. Do 
you know?"

"Yes, Mistress. I know who he serves."

"Which is why you were calling out to the profane one..."

"No, Mistress. That wasn't the reason. It's...I was being chased. I wanted to be left 
alone."

"So, Danka Síluckt, 'the bloody one', where is your master now? Can you lead me 
to him?"

"I think he's dead, Mistress. And it was...the...profane one...who killed him."

Danka explained the circumstances of Bagatúrckt's death and the escaped horses.

"We saw the horses. They ran by us as we were coming up the trail. Now, we will 
return to your campsite and find your master, or his body. If Bagatúrckt is dead, 
that would be good news for the Duchy, but bad news for me, because I wasn't 
able to kill him myself."

The group's leader moved her skull-lamp in front so Danka could see her face. 
She was dressed in black clothing. She looked very old, but her eyes were still 
clear and powerful. Her hair was completely gray, but it was done up in braids 
just like the hair of every other Danubian woman.

"Danka Síluckt, I want you to understand that your fate is in my hands. I have not 
yet decided what your fate will be, because I haven't learned enough about you. I 
may spare you, and I may not. Either way, the decision will be difficult. If you 
can accept that I now control your destiny, I won't have to restrain your hands. 
But, restrained or not, you will understand that you'd have no chance of 
escaping."

"I...yes Mistress...I know that."

Oddly, the old woman's words calmed Danka considerably, even though she had 
just spoken of the possibility of killing her. The terrible cold feeling that 
tormented her over the past several days had vanished.

"Come."

The old woman's three companions led Danka though the forest. Even though she 
knew that her life was still in danger, she felt at peace, partly because she was 
grateful not to be stumbling around in total darkness. It also was a relief to know 
she was traveling with people who had declared themselves enemies of both 
Bagatúrckt and Beelzebub the Destroyer. 

The skull-bearers and their captive made their way to the path. They turned left 
and walked several minutes before arriving at the dark campsite. Danka looked up 
and noticed the sky was beginning to lighten. 

Light...sun...oh yes...so happy not to be in the dark...

"From this place, can you tell me in which direction you think Bagatúrckt was 
riding, when his soul separated from his body?"

Danka pointed in several directions as she spoke: "He started fighting with the 
owl here...then rode in that direction...then that way into the stream...then he came 
back...was over there...and then he went that way...and that's where I heard the 
crash...and his horse came out there...and ran off in that direction..."

"When we have the benefit of light, we will investigate your claims. Meanwhile, 
you will state your business with Bagatúrckt."

"He was looking for mushrooms, Mistress. A special kind he called..."

"...the Joy of the Ancients."

"Yes, Mistress."

"I trust you were unsuccessful in your quest?"

"No...Mistress. That's not true. He did find a place with a bunch of those 
mushrooms. He got enough to fill a bucket."

"A bucket? That's impossible. There's only one place that has so many...and 
there's no way you would have found it."

"There was, Mistress. A stream, in a pretty place...with a lot of strange plants. It 
was above a waterfall, really high up."

Danka could tell, even in the faint pre-dawn light, that her captor was dismayed 
upon hearing her last words.

"Show me your bucket, Danka Síluckt"

"It's over there, where Bagatúrckt set up his bedroll."

The old woman signaled to one of her followers to retrieve the bucket. She was 
horrified when she opened the cloth and looked inside.

"Mercy of the Ancients...by the mercy of the Ancients...what have you done?"

"I...I was thinking he shouldn't have taken so many, Mistress, but..."

"Taken so many? Do you realize...have any idea...what you just destroyed?"

"Not really, Mistress. I just know that Bagatúrckt wagered a purse of gold in a 
foreign city...I think it was called Vienna...that he'd find some of those 
mushrooms. And when he found them...he wanted to take as many as he could."

"You don't have anything else to say for yourself?"

Danka realized that she had participated in something terrible. She also 
understood that she probably was only a few minutes away from meeting the 
Creator in the After-life. And yet, she was strangely calm. She'd tell her captor 
what happened, find out what was so important about those mushrooms, and then 
face judgment.

In detail, she described her trip with Bagatúrckt. She described his obsessions and 
"the graveyard of virtue". She talked about her conversations with the house 
servant in Sevérckt nad Gorádki and the trip into the forest. She talked, not to 
plead for her life, but to explain the facts. She concluded:

"I didn't want anything to do with those mushrooms, Mistress. I always thought 
they were evil, from the moment they were pulled from the ground. When I 
watched Bagatúrckt eat them and saw what happened, I realized I was right."

By the time Danka finished, it was light enough to see through the trees. The old 
woman again asked where Bagatúrckt had been when Danka last saw him. The 
trespasser led the others towards the spot she thought he had been killed. After 
looking around for several minutes, she saw him. His body was hanging, with his 
neck wedged in the fork of a low tree branch.

The old woman's companions struggled to take down the corpse. It was not a 
pretty sight, because the neck was distended and the face bloodied and deformed 
from the blow. Danka noticed the dead man's sword lying in the brush. She 
picked it up, and without understanding why, held it out for her captor to take. 
The old woman seemed surprised, but she accepted the sword.

The assistants dragged the body to the campsite. They stripped off Bagatúrckt's 
fine clothing (which they would sell), turned the body over, and drove a stake into 
his back. One of the assistants left for a few minutes and returned with a large 
square piece of wood and an inkwell. The old woman wrote:

The love of money is the root of all evil. 

Because I loved money, I stole from the Ancients and destroyed what can never 
be replaced. I showed my evil face in their presence and received what was 
rightfully mine. Do not mourn for me, because I was a tool of the Destroyer, and 
this is where my service to the Destroyer led me. I am now safely in the 
Destroyer's arms, enduring the Hell-Fire.

The old woman turned to Danka.

"You are ignorant about the mushrooms. Later I'll explain their significance. I will 
trust that your were a mere witness, nothing more, to your former master's 
depravity. As angry as I might be, I cannot condemn a bystander. I will ask you a 
question. If I spare you, do you think you can atone for what your master did to 
the Ancients?"

"I don't know, Mistress. I'll try, if you tell me what to do."

"Then we'll start by having you address me properly. I'm not a 'Mistress'. The 
people of these woods call me Babáckt Yaga."

"Yes, Babáckt Yaga."

"The next thing you will do is take off that counterfeit penance collar. I'll let you 
keep it for the future, but for the time you are in my service, you are not to wear it 
or show it in my presence."

Danka was shocked that Babáckt Yaga knew right away her collar wasn't real. It 
had fooled everyone else, but not the old woman. Reluctantly she took it off.

Babáckt Yaga picked up the bucket and handed her skull staff to Danka. Her 
followers gathered the other items scattered around the campsite and emerged 
onto the trail. 

As she carried one of Babáckt Yaga's staffs and walked behind her followers, 
Danka realized that her Path in Life had changed. She would not be returning to 
central Danubia, at least not any time soon. 

The staff she carried symbolized that she now was committed to staying in the 
mountains and serving Babáckt Yaga.

----------

The two Temple horses were captured by the townsfolk near Sevérckt nad 
Gorádki. A junior Priest from the town's cathedral took the horses south to 
Starívktaki Móskt. The Temple's Senior Priest read through his son's 
correspondence and found a stack of poems. They were all dedicated to "the 
bloody one". He must have loved her dearly to have written all those beautiful 
poems. 

Leaving Bagatúrckt's writings at the Temple, the Senior Priest frantically returned 
with the messenger to Sevérckt nad Gorádki. A group of Clergy members left the 
town to search the trail for the unfortunate Bagatúrckt, and also for the penitent 
who was the subject of his admiration. They finally found his badly decomposed 
body, at a campsite with a stake wedged in his back and a wooden sign with a 
very sinister message next to his head. Obviously poor Bagatúrckt had been 
horribly betrayed and murdered by that evil penitent. 

Yes, from the first day he saw that peasant girl, the Senior Priest had known that 
something wasn't right about her. Unfortunately, he failed to act on that suspicion. 
That failure to confront true evil had cost him dearly: the life of his favorite son.

Bagatúrckt was buried with honors at the cathedral in Sevérckt nad Gorádki. 
When the Senior Priest finally returned to the Temple in Starívktaki Móskt, the 
place was full of hushed gossip about the evil penitent girl who had destroyed the 
life of a fine young man. More rumors came in from the west, from Rika Héckt-
nemát, which recently had lost almost its entire population to the plague. There 
had been an evil peasant girl there too, the one who set off the sickness by calling 
out to Beelzebub the Destroyer when the city guards tried to execute her. 

The rumors speculated that the peasant girl who killed Rika Héckt-nemát's people 
and the penitent who killed the Senior Priest's son must have been the same 
person, a true servant of Beelzebub the Destroyer.
 

----------


Note: Most likely the owls Danka saw were greater highland owls, a species of 
owl that inhabit old-growth forests and currently are protected under Danubian 
law. The Danubian word for "why" is "somú". Traditional Danubian folklore 
associates the hooting of the greater highland owl with the origins of "somú", 
which was one of the first questions given to humans during the Epoch of the 
Ancients.

- Maritza Ortskt-Dukovna -