Feast Life

Stepping onto the dusty stone path, she stared in surprise at the wooden door with a heavy metal handle in the middle. For the second time in her life, she was invited to a party, and for the second time, she had the honor of passing through a portal inside an old but surprisingly well-preserved ship that had been slumbering for years. When the coastal waves lashed its pale stern, and the last beams caressed the scarlet sails ripped in places, it made weird mournful sounds, as if begging to be released. Perhaps to sail the seas and oceans again, or to finally set off towards the last journey.

The girl fixed her light blue bow and knocked three times insistently — the door immediately opened, inviting her to come in.

Dozens of different guests emerged on the horizon as soon as she crossed the low threshold. Someone was hanging out at the smorgasbords located near the shelves of fantasy, eating prickly roll and fending off the arrows of tiny dragonflies, someone was sipping the caustic "Azure Delight", talking with friends, and someone — Gaku, for instance — was timidly wandering from room to room, marveling at the grandiosity of the feast, which was held only four times a year.

The founders sincerely believed that in the spring the minds of skillful readers woke up to celebrate light life-giving lines, in the summer they suddenly became butterflies and grabbed books with unusual plots — a thunderstorm constantly raged over their heads, in the fall they sought solitude in the gloomy yellowed pages of old novels, and in the winter — eternal peace under the snow dunes of stories, and this was quite enough for an exciting pastime. But there should be moderation in all things, they wrote.

She heaved a sigh of relief, smiled at some creature that had scattered on the shabby floor, and waited for her friends.

A single flame suddenly flared up in the half-ruined fireplace, in which the pages of the gutter press had been smouldering until that very moment, and a second later a white-hot head and then the whole body showed up from it — the beast of the shimmering forest had finally reached the shelter for this wonderful long night.

When Gaku saw him, she gleefully waved him over.

"Hey, the girl in the polka-dot dress!" the massive window shutters slammed open, and a furry ochre cat burst into the room.

She held a book in the shape of a fat, glossy mouse tightly in her teeth, and her fur was furrowed by light swirls that sometimes turned into real sandstorms.

"You have no idea what I'm going to tell everyone today," she meowed, her eyes narrowing in satisfaction.

Several guests standing nearby looked at them questioningly, and Gaku laughed loudly, "Dread to think."

Surprisingly, her friends hadn't changed a bit, although she was probably just deeply mistaken again: it was all about the masks. They confused, mixed up, distracted with their beautiful patterns, sequins, foil, gold and silver, and didn't allow you to look inside, open and read a person like a book.

Everyone entering swore not to remove their carnival mask under any circumstances. This was the main and only rule that everyone followed strictly. The eyes are a mirror of the soul, the face is a worldly shell, and together they can tell a lot about a person, constrain him, prevent him from opening up like a beautiful flower and tell the whole world about the lines that excite him. And the magic masks didn't allow that to happen.

"You smell like the sea. Was it that ship again?"

"Yeah."

"It is said that once it was a copy of the Library of Alexandria, the same one that burned down centuries ago, but then the hands of a Midnight Wizard got to it. He destroyed the copies of the great works stored in Brucheion, so that no one would know what he had found there. Years later, the ship was retrieved, restored and used as a portal in memory of its former greatness."

"Weird, but I've heard it's a ghost ship from a book... Have you heard anything about Assol?" the snow-white-masked fire beast finally reached them, taking a glass of pure water with it.

"You must be kidding?" Gaku stared at him with her mouth open. "Incredible... I have to write about it!"

There was a rustling sound, the faint tinkle of June bells, and a light, thin book flew up to them, and the next moment it was perched next to a cat in a Venetian Lady's mask. She opened its perfect white pages so that the guests could write down their impressions in a few words, and on the next visit they would again feel the sweet taste of joy and a shiver that went all the way to the tips of their fingers.

"Well, today, on this beautiful summer night, I will tell you the story of the beautiful Lavender Lady, whose beauty, sprouting a noble flower through bitter tears, even the vile robber mice have heard..." the cat sighed blissfully, sniffing the cool fresh air with a neat pink nose, looked thoughtfully at the stars twinkling high in the dark sky, and, enlisting their support, began the story.