Due to the tense, almost military situation in the country, though why "almost"? Anyway, because of this, courses related to combat, security, and medical care were accelerated and shortened. Many mage students and cadets left their schools, colleges, and even institutes early.
This was especially true of the "tough middles," who were immediately sent to the battlefields to assist, not in combat, but for internal needs. Stronger and more promising young mages were sent to the peaceful frontiers, to quick reaction services with minimal danger, and so on.
The young mages, Alexandra Katkova and Pavel Astakhov, who were muggle-born child of magic, had a strong magical aptitude and a preference for the combat branch of magic. In addition, their pairing was always unusually effective, so they did not break up such a promising duo, and "one set" was sent to the border departments. It was now the third day that the young men were in the personal guard of the young guest from Japan.
Pasha and Sasha, as they were called, could not at first believe that such a young magician deserved a government contract, but when they arrived at the first place, they began to change their minds.
The first two contracts were in Moscow, where, during another reconstruction of an entire district, excavations were underway and an ancient burial ground was discovered, and in the second case, a kapishche. Five minutes after his arrival, the Japanese refused to work on the temple. Sasha and Pasha were astonished by the strange sight. The unusually tall Japanese man got out of the car, went to the excavated pit, looked around for a minute, then shuddered and started looking around as if he smelled a threat.
Then he takes out a strip of paper with some hieroglyphs on it and just "hangs" it in the air, and the amulet burns in a flash of green fire in a few seconds. The magician turns around and with a quick step and a tense face returns to the car, and already inside he declares that he will not work here, why, he did not explain. There was no problem with the funeral. As quickly as with the kapishka he declared that he would go to work and did not put it off for a long time.
A call on the car radio, a short conversation, and the thing began. Here the young people were surprised and respected the young magician for his diligence: fifteen hours in the ritual circle, singing some prayers (or are they spells?), burning herbs and branches — you have to be able to do that. But what struck them most, and the mages of the cordon who maintained the dome of "distraction", was the end of the ritual.
The Japanese abruptly breaks off the prayer, throws out a branch of some tree, and it burns in the air. The magician spreads his hands, raises his face to the night sky, and his silhouette is covered with a visible blanket of the blue and orange colors of magic. A few seconds of absolute silence, it seemed to the people that not only sound, but also colors and smells disappeared, and then a deafening murmuring sound, the earth shaking, and a silver stream in the sky, in which human silhouettes were clearly distinguishable.
The pillar of light lasted about ten seconds, maybe a little longer, but the sight of it sent chills down my spine and froze my insides with otherworldly fear. The sight of the huge excavation, the pieces of the buildings, the machinery, the absence of people, and despite the thaw and the warm sunshine, a chill settled here, as if nestled in the bones, causing shivers.
The smell of ash and ashes, of decay, of frost on some surfaces, and a huge chunk of ice in the center of the ritual. The low dark clouds and the silver pillar seemed to have drained all the colors from the world and taken on a life of their own. After the deathly tired Japanese man, whose face had even turned an earthy color, was taken away, everyone present was sent to the hospitals. It was said that several people turned gray that night.
The next day, after quality help and healing sleep, Sasha and Pasha returned to the task and found that the Japanese man was disgustingly awake and full of vigor. So, on the morning of the third day, they visited the magic quarters, where the Japanese spent a huge fortune in gold and in the stores of ingredients and materials paid by barter.
Neither the boy nor the girl knew anything about minerals and stones, so they didn't know exactly what the dull yellow stones in the vendor's hands were. But the happy face and the rare volume on working with common ingredients as a gift to the Japanese spoke for themselves.
At three o'clock in the afternoon, the young Japanese, Sasha and Pasha, as well as four other mages of the guard, who were given as reinforcements, went down to the underground for rituals under train station. According to rumors, in addition to strong local magicians, Altai shamans and even some old masters from Yakutia took part in the construction of this bunker.
The Japanese seemed to sense the level of this place right away, which made him smile for a long time. Sasha and another girl from the guard, Zhenya, even looked at the exotic, handsome man, which did not please the other magicians.
No, there was no sexual or romantic connection, but none of the men wanted to see their friend toyed with and abandoned. The appearance of the old ghost woman made the guards tense, but when the Japanese man started talking animatedly to her and gesticulating vigorously, the threat level was quietly lowered.
For the next three hours, most of the mages were bored as the Japanese man was busy drawing symbols and complex figures on the stone floor, arranging bowls and frying pans, and making other preparations. Only one of the guards watched with interest, and after receiving permission, even drew something after receiving detailed explanations.
The ghost, however, brought the Japanese fresh and dried herbs and branches, loaded bowls and frying pans, while the mage placed his briefcase in the center of the ritual pattern and covered it with strips of paper. For about fifteen minutes, the mage examined everything, checking and rechecking directions and timing. A clap of his hand, and sparks flared in all the bowls and roasters, and streams of fragrant smoke rose.
— Now, all of you, do not distract me, and do not let others distract me. — Without turning around, the mage said in a serious tone.
No one noticed when the staff appeared in his hand. A wide movement of the wand in front of him and the whole ritual pattern was filled with blue light. The magician crouched down and struck the ground with his palm.
The center of the pattern was engulfed by a golden flash, and after that, a uniform glow of eight rays of red starlight remained. Smoothly lowering his hand with the wand down, the mage turned to the left and abruptly raised his hand. A pillar of blue light rose in one of the knots in the pattern.
The mage did the same thing seven more times until the circle closed and silver lines intertwined between the columns of light. Again, the wand moved in a circular motion, and wide streaks of blue light from the columns struck the center, creating an almost transparent dome of blue haze. The mage raised his free hand in front of him, sweeping the open palm away from his face and over his head, lowering it to chest level and sharply to the side.
Broad bands of light broke into thin "strings," and the blue sphere was pierced by several rings of blue and blue light that began to twitch and turn like the gears of a clock, each in its own rhythm. Lines and columns of hieroglyphs hung in the air near the wizard.
The symbols pulsed around him, appearing and disappearing, and the mage himself waved his free hand from time to time, somehow controlling them.
At the same time, he held the wand in his outstretched hand, surrounded by a swirling blue haze of magic. The pressure of the energy, the power and the amount of currents the mage gathered shocked the fighters. None of them had ever seen anything remotely like this before, so this "light show" affected them as much as fireworks would a Neanderthal.
Only one of the guards remained more or less collected, trying to remember as much as possible, for he was beginning to learn artifacting, and such a powerful enchantment made him think of something the thirty-year-old mage had not even suspected. The ritual ended with the abrupt collapse of the sphere, drawing all the surrounding patterns and light into the diplomat, and the excess magic dissipated in a wave of wind.
***
POV Oversight
— Report, Lyosha, how is our guest? — asked an older man in a stylish gray business suit, all gray, with a neat moustache and short beard.
— Yes, Comrade Major General. — replied a man in his forties, overweight, round-faced, in a dark blue business suit. — The guest justified the suspicion and fulfilled one of the Moscow contracts, but not the second.
— Why, as I recall, the price of the contract there is decent? — General's voice sounded involved, and the atmosphere of the office gave the impression that you are not in the office of the head of intelligence of the magical direction, and at his own grandfather.
— That's right, everything is according to the world's standards. However, the guest refused, saying that other people should work on this case.
— Hmm? Did you investigate the case?
— Yes, I did. It turned out that the head of the distribution committee had a personal interest, so the full-time master of ritualism and occultism was sent to the Caucasus. His place was taken by the chief's youngest son, who had the rank of apprentice ritualist. His commission found nothing dangerous and issued the standard conclusion in such cases. Our investigation revealed that the shrine is active and still connected to its god. And the cleanup means...
— Yes, I know, it means an attack on that god, and there may be retaliation. What kind of god?
— One of the dark ones we haven't been able to pinpoint yet. The Magi responded quickly to the request, and their group will be in Moscow by tonight.
— Keep the case under your personal control. — The general looked carefully into his subordinate's eyes. — We don't need another Chernobyl. — After receiving an answer, the general continued. — As for the details of the guest's work, you will make a detailed report. What else have you found out?
— Not much. The documents are standard, the name and surname are real, so you know better than I do about the potential of the bearer of the surname "Hoshino". — The general nodded in agreement, and the colonel continued. — We have not made any recruitment attempts until we have a complete psychological profile, not ...
— I know the mechanism, you can skip that. As for his background... — the general remained silent for a while, tapping his finger on the heavy tabletop. — I'll make a request to the foreign intelligence service ... yes, we'll do that. — The man nodded his thoughts. — What about ours? Does the aristocracy already know or not yet?
— Our man promises six days without today: General Demidov's department discovered a supply channel for Chinese contraband, and the report to Prosecutor Menshikov got lost in the courier.
— Very well, — the general smiled contentedly. — It's more important for us now to fulfill the Peter contracts as soon as possible, and if the aristocrats start playing their games, the case will drag on and we'll have to ask for the return of some of the specialists.
— I understand. — The man nodded seriously. — That's why First Lieutenant Eroshin was killed in a raid today.
— Wasn't it a shame to cut such a cord?
— No. His replacement, Lieutenant Morozov, a vassal of the Panfilov family, will arrive in a week.
— Well, you're as good as always, Alyosha. Keep working with the guest, we need such a specialist...