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Chapter 2
Through her dark sunglasses, Sophia gazed at the midday sun. The ultraviolet rays couldn’t harm her vision, but they could attract the attention of those who were more vulnerable. Holding a blackcurrant leaf in her hand, she absentmindedly rolled it between her fingers.
The sharp beep of her wristwatch pulled her from this aimless activity. There was no doubt that on the touchscreen, the Ephor would see the coordinates and the name of her new charge.
Feeling for the wooden ladder beneath her feet, Sophia took one last glance at the hills.
"What a beautiful view from the roof of that one-story house!"
Once, a familiar person had told her that, and adhering to that sentiment, the Ephor sometimes found solace sitting on the roof. This isolation also helped her avoid meaningless conversations.
Jumping down to solid ground, she headed toward her car.
“Leaving already?” her neighbor called out cheerfully, leaning over the low fence.
"Speaking of meaningless conversations," Sophia thought to herself.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Sophia nodded.
“S-Sophia, talk to Esther. She really doesn’t take care of herself. And, by the way, she just turned 60! What is she doing? Still planting s-strawberries—”
Sophia tried not to stare openly at the creature leaning against the slightly crooked fence next to her neighbor. In the sunlight, it resembled a snake basking in the warm rays.
Its bright yellow eyes bore into Esther, while its long tongue flicked out, splitting at the tip and significantly longer than a human's.
“That’s not my business,” Sophia whispered softly, glancing at the dirty wheels. The roads here were far from ideal, and the mud always puzzled her. An insatiable urge to scrub it away would wash over her.
“Come by my place! I’ll show you my new flowerbed. It’s simply lovely!” the neighbor said, removing her gardening gloves and waving her hand in invitation.
“Maybe next time, ma’am. I really am in a hurry.”
“No, don’t leave!” the creature insisted, undeterred. “It’s s-so boring here. Why can’t we jus-st go somewhere in Holland? There are tons of tulips there!”
Sophia lifted her head and noted that if you stripped away its unusual coloring, the creature resembled a young woman with African features.
Nothing new. When your guide is Nomadum, life becomes a journey. Nomads, who have no permanent "nests," find like-minded people (if they’re lucky) and travel often. They are sociable, have a sense of humor, and know how to dream. But they aren’t suited for family life and quickly begin to feel bored. Stuck in the same relationships, the same job, the same place. They are in a constant search for comfortable stability, yet can’t stand it. It’s a paradox. Even if you’re sixty, the thirst for adventure will drive you – at least to the dacha, and at most, to the airport.
Jumping into the car, Sophia turned on her playlist and cranked up the volume.
"I want to be confident in the future," sounded encouraging from the speakers.
Throwing a leaf from a plant out the window, Ephor rolled up the windows and drove on.
At this stage, it's important to bring clarity to what’s happening.
The soul voluntarily chooses a new life path and returns to Earth until it becomes multifaceted and purified. Only after completing all the preparations can the soul remain and no longer need to go back to Earth. Celebration!
Human beings' temporary needs have always overshadowed their true ones. They carefully distracted their consciousness from the only real cause of their unhappiness: the lack of independent choice. This was a nearly perfected Masonic conspiracy. But the Masons were merely a handful of guides – beings who believed themselves to be the Messiah. And while one writer warned that "A
Each Guide represented a set of specific emotions and desires – a subtle, higher force, a lifelong companion. A kind of energy cluster containing a certain program.
Formally, a person had a choice. They could take an alternative path and would even encounter alternative acquaintances and obstacles along the way. But in the end, the final constant remained unchanged. A constant value, known as fate among people and as protocol among the guides.
So, the coordinates on her watch indicated that the new patient was already at the "Sleeping Dolphin" clinic. It wasn’t a short drive, but Sophia’s stash of rock music kept her entertained. She always turned the volume up, popping chocolate after chocolate into her mouth. In the human world, they would have called her a sweet tooth, but in reality, Ephor had long studied their harmful habits, including the craving for food.
Stopping at a gas station, she noticed a boy about seven years old. He was staring at the vending machine filled with sweets, uncertainly tracing his finger across the glass from one candy bar to another.
“Need some change?” Sophia asked, approaching the boy.
“No, thank you—” he mumbled. “Mom gave me some money, but I can't choose. All the candy bars look so good.”
“Banana with chocolate seems pretty good,” she said, pointing to the middle of the shelf. “It's just sweet enough and has the right amount of syrup.”
"That’s what the advertisement claimed," she thought to herself.
“I like it too!” the boy exclaimed. “I think I'll choose that one.”
Two unhappy figures appeared near the vending machine.
“If you think about the essence of choice, our perceptions shape our desires. Every day, we have to analyze countless little things. And perhaps, in this very moment, we are drastically different from who we were just a minute ago. It feels like the day is packed with denial.” The twin girls, the same age as the boy, in light lace hooded capes, stared at Sophia with their red eyes.
Flavuses saw better in the dark and tried to hide from the light.
One of the girls pulled back her hood, revealing a face resembling a bat, with a snout instead of a nose, and shook her blonde hair, tied in braids, with hostility.
“What's your name?” Sophia asked the boy, trying to ignore his unfriendly companions.
“Lucas,” he mumbled, yawning.
“You know, Lucas, you don't have to spend so long choosing just one chocolate bar. You can grab the first one you see. Next time, you can try the one next to it. That way, you'll always have a variety of flavors,” the girl tried to encourage him.
“I don’t know, what if I don’t like it—”
“You'll end up like a product of the apricot after a worm gets into it – There's a fine line between "I want" and "I was convinced to want this,"” the blonde girl muttered.
“The road ahead isn't short, and all that will remain is your own reflection in the glass and reflection,” the second girl countered.
“Son, there you are,” an adult woman approached them. “Sorry, he’s already started gathering a line here. What are you stalling for, Lucas?”
“Oh, it’s fine, I’m not in a hurry,” Sophia replied.
“Mom, I don’t know which chocolate bar to choose. Help me.”
“You always have the same problems,” a middle-aged man in a perfectly pressed, starched white shirt rolled his dark blue eyes.
"Great. Just what I needed – Lombask here," Sophia thought, studying his chiseled Asian features.
He looked like a Japanese man with a tall, athletic build, broad shoulders, and muscular legs. But at a certain angle, his appearance was distorted, and the man with hair as black as oil resembled a crow.
“Son, I’m not rushing you, but we still have a long way to go. We need to make it before dark. You know how your dad dislikes driving at night.”
“Then help me out, Mom.”
“Why waste so much time?” Lombask said irritably, brushing his fingers through his hair and slicing through it with his sharp, long nails. “This boy can never make a quick, well-considered decision.”
“Alright, Lucas. How about we try this one this time?”
The woman pressed the button on the machine, and it spat out a candy bar in a plain wrapper with a crunch.
“Nougat – Even the waves wash up more selective treasures from the sea floor,” one of the girls wrinkled her nose.
“They spit out what isn't tasty,” the second girl sighed.
The twin girls turned toward the boy, pulling up their hoods.
“They at least know what they don't like,” Lombask scoffed, his patience wearing thin. His black hair fluffed up as if he were preparing for an attack.
“Goodbye, Lucas,” Sophia waved to him.
“Goodbye,” the boy replied shyly, awkwardly waving back as he unwrapped the unwanted candy bar and shuffled after his mother.
The boy's Guides walked behind him, holding hands, trying to avoid the direct sunlight streaming into the store through the dusty windows. Their gait was weary and slightly awkward, as if they hadn't slept for hundreds of years.
In contrast, Lombask strode confidently with his shoulders back, slightly ahead of his charge, glancing back only once toward the boy.
"What is that look – contempt?" Sophia thought.
After the gas station, she didn’t stop anywhere. Meeting the Flavuses always left an inexplicable residue. Timid, albino children who rarely engaged in conflict. Anyone assigned such a guide would be very unfortunate, as positive thinking would be out of the question. However, a melancholic mood was guaranteed, for that was like medicine to the Flavuses.
Lucas was a very nice and clever boy, though extremely shy, but it couldn’t be any other way with such Guides.
Lowering her left hand into the pocket of her denim jacket, the girl retrieved a banana chocolate bar without letting go of the steering wheel with her right hand.
“Well, it really is tasty,” she mumbled, taking a bite.