Elmira trudged along the road, tears streaming down her cheeks. She felt no fear in the dark, dense forest that surrounded her. Fear had given way to an unbearable pain, an icy grip that had frozen her heart. Everything else in the world had ceased to matter.
Even when bright headlights sliced through the darkness behind her, she didn't turn, lost as she was in her grim thoughts. But the car was approaching rapidly, swerving on the road, and some unknown force, warning of the impending danger, finally compelled her to look back. It was too late. The car was hurtling towards her at full speed...
Elmira woke with a start to the shrill ringing of her phone near her ear. Still disoriented from the terrifying dream, she blinked in confusion, looking around. Next to her, in the cozy bed, Denis was sleeping soundly. Not even a cannon blast could have roused him at that moment.
Gathering her thoughts, Elmira hurried to answer the insistent call.
"Hello!... Hello!"
She managed to catch someone's breath before the line went dead.
The digital clock on the bedside table glowed 08:05. They were late for the first class. And since that was the case, she could luxuriate in the warm bed a little longer, savoring the last moments of peace before the hectic pre-holiday day descended.
Just as Elia hugged her pillow and closed her eyes with a sigh of contentment, the phone rang again. She had to slip out of the warm bed and go to the kitchen so as not to wake Denis. It was amazing – he didn't react to the phone's ringing, but he always woke up at the sound of her voice.
"Hello!" she said quietly.
"It's impossible to get through to you!" Her friend and classmate, Sophiko, shouted into her ear instead of a greeting. "El’ka, I'm doomed!"
"Hi! What's wrong?" Elmira began to examine her sleepy reflection in the gleaming silver kettle.
"Mom will kill me if she finds out where I am."
"Where are you?"
"In Paris!"
"Where?!" In surprise, Elia sank onto a tall, round stool at the marble counter that separated the cozy kitchen area from the spacious living room.
"In Paris! If you don't believe me, check Instagram[1]. Yesterday, Dania surprised me. I blurted out that I wanted to stroll along the Champs-Élysées, and he bought us tickets for the next flight! We partied all night at the 'VIP-room' club, and now we've popped into a café for breakfast. Dania stepped away to make a work call, and I decided to call you. Elechka, sweetie, if my mom asks, please confirm that Nika, you, and I are preparing for our French test at her dacha[2]. She might suddenly decide to check on me."
"Isn't your mom following you on Instagram?"
"On my old school one," Sophiko giggled. "I post something there once a month for show, but this new one is a secret for friends. So, will you cover for me? I'll be back tomorrow early in the morning and rush straight to university."
"Sure! Sonya, don’t forget, we also have a history test tomorrow. And Nika doesn’t have a dacha in Moscow. What if your mom… Hello! Hello!..."
Hundreds of miles away from Moscow, in one of the most romantic places in the world, Sophiko was chatting on her phone. She was nestled by the window of a charming café not far from the Place du Trocadéro when, out of nowhere, a man with a travel bag slung over his shoulder approached her and snatched the iPhone right out of her hand. The sheer gall of it stole Sophiko's breath for a moment. Then, indignation blazing, she demanded in English, "Hey! Give me back my phone!"
But the man, as if deaf to her pleas, silently dialed a number and spoke in Russian. "Seryi, my battery's dead. I'm in position. Expect my call tonight."
After that, he deleted the dialed number from the call log, shoved the phone back into Sophiko's hand, tossed a single euro coin onto the table, and strode toward the exit as if nothing had happened.
"Idiot!" she called after him. "I can still see the number in the statement on call details!"
Meanwhile, back in Moscow, Elmira remained perched on a kitchen stool, staring at her phone with sleep-heavy eyes.
Sonya had blown off her impending exams and, throwing caution to the wind, had taken off on a romantic getaway. But she’s cool! Sometimes we just had to live for today, not get bogged down in the future. We had to know how to savor happiness in the here and now, in the moment, instead of waiting for it to arrive sometime later. What if it got tired of knocking on closed doors and decided to go to someone like Sophiko, who certainly wouldn't miss her chance and would greet it with open arms?
Elmira had already washed her face and had just finished brushing her teeth when Denis walked into the bathroom.
"Who was that on the phone? Who were you talking to?" he asked, barely concealing the jealous undertones in his voice.
"It was Sonya. She's got another adventure going on," Elmira said, placing her toothbrush in the holder and turning to face her boyfriend. "And we overslept again! I'm going to get kicked out of MGIMO for being late and skipping classes."
"They wouldn't dare! You're a straight-A student!"
"Don't forget I'm on a scholarship, and they can easily find a reason to pick on me. And you, a graduating student, won't be allowed to defend your thesis if you skip classes!"
Denis didn't say anything in response, only smiled and pulled her close.

[1] Instagram and Facebook social networks owned by Meta Platforms Inc. were declared extremist by the Tverskoy Court of Moscow on March 21, 2022 and banned in Russia
[2] Dacha is a country house.

The Italian Boulevards in Paris were particularly bustling on this bright spring morning. The excitement was all thanks to an elderly gentleman who, despite his venerable age, clearly over eighty, strode along the sidewalk with a sprightly and confident gait. Passersby turned to watch him, some with silent admiration, others whispering joyfully as they scrutinized him from head to toe and secretly snapped photos on their phones, while still others dared to stop him to ask for an autograph. Tourists, surprised by the reaction of the locals, wondered what had sparked such unusual interest in the silver-haired monsieur. Only a few recognized him as the famous French actor Patrice Laurent, who had risen to fame in the golden age of cinema in the fifties.
On one of the narrow streets near the Grand Opera, the movie star entered a small bookstore. There, wandering between the rows, Patrice Laurent's gaze accidentally landed on a young, charming Asian girl whose radiant smile graced the cover of a fashion magazine. Her name, "Ethel Lourier," shimmered in silver letters against the backdrop of an evening black dress.
For a moment, the blood froze in Monsieur Laurent's veins. His face paled, and, disbelieving his own eyes, he reached for the magazine. Running his bony fingers over the smooth face of the young model, the old man whispered softly, "Gillian, Gillian... Guilyana..."

In a small classroom at MGIMO[1], located on the fourth floor of the right wing of the building stretching along Lobachevsky Street, French classes had already begun. Elmira hurried down the hallway, for the hundredth time scolding herself for giving in to a fleeting weakness and allowing herself to linger over breakfast with Denis at their favorite coffee shop on the way to university, resulting in her now being late for her second class.
Elia burst into the classroom, rattled off apologies in French with a guilty look, and slipped behind the desk to her friend Andranika. They were eager to share the latest news with each other, so as soon as the teacher, Maria Vyacheslavovna, turned away and began writing the assignment on the board in chalk, they, like two mischievous schoolgirls, began taking turns scribbling messages to each other on colorful sticky notes with the Eiffel Tower.
Elmira: S flew away with D to Paris. Will be back tomorrow.
Andranika's reply was more verbose:
S called, saying we're at my “dacha”preparing for the test.
I met a guy in the library this morning. A graduate, like your Den.
Elmira: More details!!!))
Andranika: Vladislav, 25 years old, a la Jensen Ackles.
Elmira: Who?
Andranika: From the 'Supernatural'. A blue-eyed hottie.
Elmira: Wow!)) Are we going to 'Afimall'[2] after classes? Or better tomorrow, after the tests?"
Andranika: Tomorrow.
Indeed, a walk through the shopping mall on the eve of two tests was a foolish idea. They had planned it the other day, completely forgetting about their studies. And now, because of the looming exam session, they had to adjust their plans.
Fifteen minutes before the end of the lesson, there was a knock on the door. Maria Vyacheslavovna looked out into the corridor and, with a smile on her face, turned to Elmira:
"It's for you, mademoiselle. A mysterious young man."
Andranika, unable to restrain herself, whistled and leaned back in her chair:
"If things go on like this, Den will have to accompany you to all your classes. He's the most terrible jealous type the world has ever seen."
"It's Denis! Who else?" Elmira got up from her chair, trying to calm her amused friend.
"Now, mademoiselle Nika, repeat your last sentence in French," the teacher smiled.
While Andranika was trying to get out of her predicament, Elia left the classroom. She was one hundred percent sure that Denis was waiting for her outside the door, but, to her surprise, there was no one in the hallway.
Who on earth would want to play a trick on me?
Elmira was about to return to class when a muffled voice reached her ears, mysteriously calling out her name in a singsong fashion. Looking around, Elia noticed a silhouette at the far end of the corridor, disappearing around the corner leading to the Dean's office.
"This is ridiculous!" she muttered, but nevertheless hurried towards the sound, imagining herself as Alice in Wonderland, chasing the White Rabbit.
However, at the end of the corridor, just around the corner, it wasn't a mysterious stranger who awaited her, but merely a white envelope lying on the floor, addressed to Elmira Gerasimova.
Frowning, Elia leaned over it, hesitant to pick it up, but curiosity once again took hold. She cautiously lifted the envelope, turned it over in her hands, and finding nothing revealing on the outside, extracted a small sheet of paper from within. Printed in large letters were the words:
"You will pay for everything. I know everything about you. EVERYTHING!"
Elmira froze, the note clutched in her hand, utterly bewildered.
What is this strange message? Some kind of stupid prank?
A shiver snaked down Elia's spine, an unsettling prickle born from the sudden awareness of being watched. In the oppressive, ringing silence, there was something deeply wrong, even sinister, about the feeling of unseen eyes boring into her. Elmira, standing at the crossroads of two hallways and the staircase that once, in bygone days, housed the smoking lounge, glanced around hurriedly, but found no one, just as before.
Then, her gaze snagged on the slightly ajar door of the men's restroom further down the corridor. Determined to get to the bottom of things, to dot every "i" and cross every "t," Elia steeled herself to venture into the lavatory, to seek out the author of the strange note that had been plaguing her thoughts. She was just about to push the door open when, as if conjured from thin air, the head of her course materialized beside her.
"Gerasimova, why aren't you in class?" the woman demanded, her voice sharp, her gaze piercing Elmira from behind the lenses of her spectacles.
"I... I went to the restroom," Elmira blurted out, the first thing that sprang to mind.
The head of the course cast a suspicious glance at the door bearing the "M" and shook her head, disapproval radiating from her. Cursing her own lack of wit, Elia turned and hurried toward her lecture hall, the stern gaze of the woman burning into her back.

[1] Moscow State Institute of International Relations
[2] Afimall City is a shopping and entertainment center in Moscow, located on the territory of Moscow City.

During the break, the friends descended to the cafe on the ground floor. As always, the radio played softly, and the air was thick with the enticing aromas of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries.
Andranika hadn't had time for breakfast at home and, ravenous, ordered a double turkey and grape sandwich, a banana cupcake, and a large mug of almond latte. Elmira, however, still full from her morning feast at the coffee shop, which had caused her to be late for class, contented herself with a peach bubble tea with tapioca pearls.
"I thought Sonya had already exhausted her capacity to surprise me, but this trip to Paris right before two exams is something special!" Nika laughed as they settled at a table.
"Hopefully, she'll manage to prepare by conversing with real French people."
"Especially in a nightclub! Do you think Danila will let her fraternize with handsome French guys? I think he's just as jealous as your Den, if not more so - сomme le monde n'en a jamais vu,[1]" she added the phrase in French with a laugh, recalling Maria Vyacheslavovna's assignment.
Elia sighed.
"Okay, let's not talk about jealous boyfriends, but about your blue-eyed Vladislav! Spill the details!"
"Well, he's a looker – tall, broad-shouldered, athletic build. You know I never fall for looks alone, but his resemblance to Dean Winchester from 'Supernatural' definitely played a part."
"Is that why you agreed to meet him?"
"Partly for that reason, but the main cause was that he was holding a 'Wuthering Heights' by Emily Brontë, which I'm currently reading for our 'English lady's' assignment."
"And you decided it was a sign from fate?" Elmira laughed. "Nika, he just got smitten with you after seeing you in the library, found you through the university's geolocation on social media, saw your enthusiastic mention of 'Wuthering Heights' in your post, and ambushed you with that book tucked under his arm."
"Except, I don't have social media."
"Oh, I forgot it! But Sophiko posted our photo from the cafe the other day, where you were sitting with that book!" Elia remembered.
"That's precisely why I agreed to meet him," her friend mumbled with a satisfied look, taking a bite of her sandwich. "Let him think I fell for his little trick. Meanwhile, I'll keep an eye on him."
"Oh, you cunning seductress! I already feel sorry for that poor Vladislav. He has no idea whose web he's walked into."
Andranika was known as one of the most striking girls among the freshmen. Before entering MGIMO University, in her hometown on the Black Sea coast, she had been quite successful in the modeling industry. Her long-standing nickname "Chameleon," in honor of her favorite supermodel of the 90s, Linda Evangelista, who frequently changed her image, stuck with her at the university as well. Nika changed her look almost every week, and even those in her inner circle couldn't accurately name her true hair and eye color. One day she would arrive at class with a short haircut à la Demi Moore in "Ghost," or with a bob with blunt bangs like young Natalie Portman in "Léon," then she would flaunt blonde curls in the style of Marilyn Monroe, or wear a ginger wig like Milla Jovovich in "The Fifth Element." And toward the end of the first academic year, Andranika transformed into a sultry, dark-eyed blonde in the style of Shakira, with a mane of unruly curls.
"Since he's a graduate, he's probably acquainted with your Den. Vlad is also from the МП," Nika exclaimed, referring to the Faculty of International Law. "He invited me to the movies tonight."
"Are you going to go?"
"I have other plans for today. Did you forget? We have two tests tomorrow! Listen, maybe after classes we can go to my place together to prepare for the tests?"
"We'll see. I don't think Denis would be too happy about that. I like everything about him except for this wild jealousy," Elia sighed. "Honestly, I haven't had time to prepare for history at all. I was doing a big translation from Japanese, and I didn't have enough time to prepare for the test. I wish I'd get the question about Genghis Khan! I prepared a report about him in school. So, I shouldn't fail the question if it's about him."
"Tell me a couple of interesting facts!" Andranika asked. "Maybe I will get the question about Genghis Khan too. I read about him in school, but I wasn't particularly interested in it. Belka is a specialist in him."
Elia didn't personally know Nika's friend from her hometown, but she had often heard about Belka.
"It's difficult to talk about a personality like Genghis Khan in a few words, and our class starts in ten minutes... Do you want me to tell you the legend about his treasures?" Elmira offered.
"I love stories about treasures!" Her friend's eyes shone with curiosity as brightly as the Khan's dazzling jewels, which she immediately pictured in her imagination.

[1] Like the world has never seen one.

“Okay, then listen. After capturing the capital of one of the kingdoms, Genghis Khan's massive army advanced through the endless steppes. When darkness fell, the warriors stopped for the night, and a commotion arose among the prisoners. Khan's attendants brought him an old captive with a mole on his nose, who claimed to be a seer. He told the Khan that centuries after his death, a girl would be born with Genghis Khan's blood flowing in her veins. The seer grabbed a golden medallion from his chest and declared that it would one day be in the hands of this girl. The old man added that she would have the same green eyes and immense power, and she would have to save her people, after which her name would go down in world history. The seer warned the Khan that many people would die because of this gold, but if ever the course of events went wrong for Humanity, it was his jewels that could save human lives."
"Wow! It sounds intriguing."
"Despite the doubts of his shaman Kekchu, Genghis Khan believed the seer and ordered  to let him go."
"Genghis Khan had his own shaman?"
"Yes. Kekchu had great authority in Mongolia. There's a belief that Genghis Khan didn't really believe in his shaman's abilities and kept him around purely for his own benefit. He even became related to him by marrying Oelun-Eke, Genghis Khan's widowed mother, to Kekchu's father, Munlik. Generally, though, Genghis Khan believed in the predestination of the Eternal Blue Sky – Munkh Koke Tengri."
"Oh, how to remember all these names?" her friend laughed, digging into her banana dessert. "Tell me more about the mysticism. Maybe it'll come in handy sometime."
Andranika's close friends knew about her secret passion – she had been publishing mystical stories under various pseudonyms since high school.
"Okay, about mysticism... You know, there were so many amazing things in Genghis Khan's destiny! Even his birth was accompanied by an omen – he was born with a clot of blood, resembling a red stone, tightly clenched in his fist."
"Oh, I know that story. I read a post about it. Maybe it was Belka's. As I recall, that day his father won a victory over the Tatar tribe and captured its leader, Temujin, after whom he named his son. That's Genghis Khan's real name."
"You're absolutely right. What about the Higher Powers watching over him his entire life? Have you read about this?"
"No! Tell me!" Nika exclaimed, her face lighting up with an eager anticipation. She leaned forward, ready to be swept away by the unfolding narrative.
Elmira settled back, her gaze drifting to some unseen point in the distance as she began, "He stared Death in the face so many times, and each time, a miracle occurred. Once, the young Temujin was taken prisoner. They shackled him with a heavy yoke, binding his neck and wrists. Yet, even in such a helpless state, he managed to stun his guard in the dead of night and escape, finding refuge in the Onon River, submerged up to his neck." She paused, allowing the image of the daring escape to sink in.
"Another time," Elia continued, her voice gaining momentum, "when Genghis Khan rode alone, six enemies ambushed him. As he approached, they unleashed a volley of arrows, but not a single one even grazed him. Genghis Khan drew his saber, cut down the archers, and continued on his way without a scratch."
"And then there was the hunt," Elmira said, her eyes widening slightly. "He aimed at a wild boar, but his horse spooked, throwing him to the ground. What happened next was unbelievable – the charging boar stopped dead in its tracks! The famous Taoist monk, Changchun, interpreted it as a sign of Heavenly protection."
The spell was broken by Andranika's pragmatic voice.
"That guy was definitely born under a lucky star!" she declared. "But what happened to his treasures? Where did his golden medallion disappear to?" The question hung in the air, a stark reminder of the present mysteries that needed solving.
"The legend goes," Elmira began, her voice laced with the hushed reverence usually reserved for ancient secrets, "that Genghis Khan's gold was passed down through generations of his descendants. A portion of his treasures ended up with a family of Kalmyk nomads who, during the Russian Civil War, took the jewels to France. Since then...nothing. They vanished."
"That's incredible! I need to tell Belka about this. She's a quarter Kalmyk, her grandmother lives in Elista. She'll absolutely like this story, Belka loves investigations. I wouldn't even be surprised if she managed to dig up information about this family." A hopeful glint sparkled in her eyes. – “Just imagine – the treasures of Genghis Khan himself! They must be worth an unbelievable amount of money!" Nika breathed, lost in a momentary daydream of unimaginable riches.
"Or maybe it's just a tall tale, who knows!" Elmira shrugged, bringing them back to reality. "Maybe those Kalmyks never had any jewels at all."
She glanced at her watch and her eyes widened in horror.
"Oh no! We're late for the seminar again. Run!"
Elia grabbed her friend's hand, preventing her from finishing her banana cake, and pulled her towards the café exit. The allure of ancient treasure was quickly replaced by the urgency of academic punctuality.

Ethel wished the elevator would descend forever, that time would freeze for just a few precious minutes while Étienne was near.
What bliss it was to stand beside him, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his cologne (her Valentine's Day gift), burying her face in his neck, melting under his enigmatic grey gaze...
Only moments remained. Soon these embraces would dissolve into the coolness of the Parisian morning, vanishing as swiftly as the magic of this farewell night. Not in the sense that they were parting forever (God forbid!), simply that today he was leaving for the south for a week to visit his sick mother. A week, seven days – an eternity! Paris would be empty without her beloved Étienne.
How unbearable were these last minutes before parting! Ethel longed to stretch time, but it mercilessly raced forward, bringing the moment of farewell ever closer.
The elevator delivered them to the ground floor. Ethel followed Étienne as if in a fog, as if in slow motion. There he was, approaching the concierge, greeting him, exchanging a few words about the upcoming renovations, playing with his motorcycle helmet, while she, as if spellbound, stood and gazed at him with a mournful, loving look. How Ethel adored that proud profile, the strong athletic figure, and the unruly auburn curls, still damp from his shower.
They met almost six months ago. Ethel stumbled upon an interview with a trendy club DJ in a magazine. She had heard of him before, a certain Etienne, but for some reason imagined him to be much older and less attractive. But from the pages of the magazine, a young man looked at her – tanned, in just jeans, with a bare, muscular torso, laughing with his head thrown back, like a denim advertising campaign model for "Dolce & Gabbana" or "Calvin Klein."
Ethel fell in love with him at first sight. The adventurous aspiring journalist (at least, a journalism student who would soon likely be expelled for constant absences and tardiness) couldn't live without adventure - she found out which club this handsome guy played at on weekends and set off with her friends to meet her destiny.
The magazine with Etienne's interview ended up in Ethel's hands not without reason. In it, she posed on fifteen pages in evening gowns in a section dedicated to the upcoming New Year's Eve.
Etienne had also seen those photos. The girl with the Asian look, so fragile, touching, with a delicate oval face and radiant eyes, had also captivated him.
"Ethel Lurier," he read, "Chance Modeling Agency."
She couldn't believe her eyes when Etienne himself approached her near the bar and greeted her so casually, as if they had known each other for years:
"Hi, Ethel! How are you doing?"
And from that moment, their romance swirled in a whirlwind of pre-Christmas bells, snowflakes shimmering in the light of lanterns during nighttime walks through Paris, and the dizzying feeling of endless happiness.
She spent all her time free from studies and endless castings with Etienne. It didn't happen as often as she would have liked, because he always had a lot of business and work trips. Ethel began to be plagued by guilt, because she had completely stopped visiting her parents in Toulouse, although she used to do it at every opportunity and celebrate all the holidays with her family. But now the thought of being separated from Etienne, even for just a few days, seemed unbearable to her.
Now, several months into their romance, it seemed to Ethel that she only truly lived in the moments they spent together. She loved being at his place, cooking exquisite dinners with him, watching Netflix series, snuggled on his shoulder under a warm blanket while it rained outside, and falling asleep in his strong embrace. More and more often, she wanted to stay with him forever, but at the same time, she realized that it was too serious a step. She herself often needed to be alone, in peace and quiet, after a tiring run of castings and shoots until late at night, and Etienne's frantic pace of life with his constant parties, endless stream of noisy friends, and loud music would drive her crazy.
They went outside. In the fresh spring air, there were still hints of early morning.
Etienne held out a helmet to her.
"Straight to university? I thought you were going to the library before the crowds arrived."
"No. Take me home. I need to grab my notes, I forgot to take them yesterday. I'll go to class with Michelle."
"Okay," he carefully adjusted the helmet on her head, gently pecked her on the tip of her nose, and started the motorcycle.
Ten minutes later, they were slicing through the streets of Paris, awakening from sleep, until they found themselves in front of the building where Ethel shared an apartment with her classmate Michelle.
In front of the entrance, they kissed passionately goodbye.
"Don't do anything foolish while I'm gone," Etienne jokingly threatened.
"What foolish things? While you're gone, I might actually get to studying, finally," she looked tenderly into his eyes and drowned in them.
"After your appearance on the cover of  'ELLE,' everyone recognizes you. What if some cheeky admirer decides to woo you?"
"What admirer? I don't need anyone but you. You know that," Ethel buried her face in his chest and pressed against him.
"Sweetheart, getting on the cover of a magazine like that is a great stroke of luck. Now your career will take off. Even the film studio noticed you. Maybe they really will cast you in the movie about Genghis Khan."
"It's too early to talk about that. The casting is next week. Are you going straight to the airport now?"
"Yes. And I need to go now, or I'll be late."
"I hope your mom gets better soon. Call me when you arrive. I'm worried. You know how afraid I am of planes."
"Silly girl!" Etienne laughed and kissed her tenderly.
With a heavy heart after the parting, Ethel went up to the apartment. Michelle, with curlers in her hair and a cigarette in her teeth, met her in the hallway, as if she had been deliberately waiting for her by the door.
"I saw your touching farewell scene from the window! Such lovebirds! Just like in a movie."

"Why are you up so early? Usually you're still snoring at this hour," Ethel walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took out cherry juice.
"Because I'm so excited that I couldn't fall back asleep after Lucy's call."
"Which Lucy?"
"What do you mean, which? Your agent!" Michelle rolled her eyes and released cigarette smoke into the ceiling. "She couldn't reach you on your cell, it's turned off, and called the landline."
"That's weird! Lucy never calls this early. Something must have happened," Ethel exclaimed in surprise.
"I was so angry! You know I hate it when someone starts ringing early in the morning. Anyway, Lucy said you should call her urgently. It concerns Patrice Laurent."
"Which Patrice Laurent? The actor?!"
"I would say, a legend of French cinema! Yes, that's him. He wants to invite you to lunch."
"Me?!" Ethel choked on her juice from surprise. "Are you kidding? Why me?"
"Call Lucy!" Burning with curiosity, her roommate handed her the phone.
A few minutes later, Ethel put down the phone with a puzzled look and slumped onto the chair as if she'd been struck down.
"Pinch me and tell me this isn't a dream! Tomorrow at noon, Patrice Laurent will be waiting for me at a Russian restaurant near Parc Monceau. Lucy said she received a letter from him in the middle of the night, which is why she started calling me so early. What does it all mean, do you think?"
Her friend shrugged in response, equally puzzled.
"Maybe he wants to invite you to his new film too?"
"No way! Patrice Laurent hasn't been in a movie for decades!"
"Well, then I don't know... Oh, maybe he wants to give you a leg up, so you get cast in the movie about Genghis Khan? Which role are you auditioning for there?"
"The role of his wife, Borte. By the way, I conducted a little journalistic investigation and dug up some interesting facts about her."
"You call searching on Google a journalistic investigation?" Michelle interrupted with a laugh.
"Okay, okay, you got me! Yes, I Googled it!" Ethel confessed. "It's an incredibly interesting role. When Temujin, that is, Genghis Khan, was nine years old, his father, according to ancient Mongolian custom, took him to look for a bride far from home. This was done to avoid consanguineous marriages. On the way, they accidentally met the leader of another tribe who, upon learning the purpose of their trip, suggested they stop by his camp and meet his daughter – the nine-year-old beauty Borte. In the end, the fathers agreed on the marriage, but on the way back, Genghis Khan's father was killed by the Tatars. Temujin's family had to endure severe trials, because he was left with only his mother and two younger brothers. In those days, a woman could not take the place at the head of the clan, and most people abandoned them, also stealing almost all their livestock."
"And how did his family get out of it?"
"Genghis Khan grew up in poverty, and perhaps that's what tempered his character, turning little Temujin into the future great conqueror. He took on the responsibilities of the head of the family early: riding on horseback across the vast steppes, searching for lost livestock, scouting new places for pastures, and constantly making sure not to encounter bands of marauders. Imagine, he spent several nights in the snow without fire, and if necessary, could stay in the saddle for several days in a row, even without food."
"Where did you read his biography? In the 'History in Comics' series?" Her friend burst out laughing. "You describe him as if he were not a person, but a superhero from the Marvel Universe!"
"I'm serious! By the way, he became a superhero thanks to his mother. She inspired me to write the article that I promised to hand in to Madame Gerard this week, but I couldn't pick a topic. And now that Étienne is gone, I'm going to settle in the library and write a paper about how behind every great man there is an even greater woman. And I consider it extremely important to emphasize the role of Genghis Khan's mother in his becoming a legendary conqueror."
"Wow! I'd love to read your article when you write it. So, how did his mother distinguish herself?"
"She raised Temujin on heroic epics and instilled in her firstborn that their poor situation was only temporary, and that when he grew up, he had to return the family to its former glory, as well as avenge the Tatars for the death of his father and punish all those who abandoned their tribe. As a result, Temujin grew up and turned into a strong young man with a tough disposition, patient and capable of achieving any goals set."
"Yes, no doubt it's his mother's doing that he turned out this way," Michelle nodded. "I went on a date yesterday with a guy from Tinder. This Jean, at the sight of a dog running out from around the corner, almost jumped, even climbed, into my arms and squealed down the street like a child. And it's all because his mother fusses over him to this day! She's been coddling him his whole life, and never brought up the Man in him."
"And what did you do after such a show?" Ethel laughed, picturing the comical scene with her friend, the guy, and the dog.
"I turned around and went home, so as not to waste a single minute of my time on a mama's boy. Because of him, I even went to the pastry shop on the corner and bought three whole brownie to eat away my disappointment. So today we're going on foot to university! I need to burn calories," she stubbed out her cigarette and poured coffee into her mug. "What's next with Genghis Khan?"
"And next, the most interesting thing happened. By the way, also on the topic of my article about the role of women in the fate of great men. Despite the fact that Temujin had almost nothing, Borte's father kept his word and gave his daughter to him in marriage. And this became a kind of turning point in Genghis Khan's life. The young wife gave Temujin an expensive black sable fur coat, which cost almost a fortune."
"A fur coat?!" Michelle asked in surprise.
"Exactly! And you know what he did? He went to the powerful lord Toghrul Khan, his father's blood brother, asking him to recognize him as Toghrul Khan's son in memory of their past relationship with his deceased father. As a sign of respect, Temujin presented him with a luxurious gift in the form of that very sable fur coat. Toghrul Khan was very touched by this gesture and not only agreed to recognize Temujin as his adopted son, but also promised to support him in difficult times. Thanks to this patron, Temujin managed to regain most of his people who had left him after his father's death, and become the head of a small band. From that moment on, his great history began."
"Wow! This guy turned out to be very smart!"
"As for Borte, there's an interesting story connected with her. Shortly after the wedding, she was kidnapped. Trying to save his beloved, Temujin almost died, but he was saved by a miracle, and he still managed to bring his wife back from captivity. But when their firstborn was born a few months later, Genghis Khan began to doubt that it was his son, so he disliked him. Although later, when he had other wives and children from them, Genghis Khan continued to single out Borte and dearly loved the children she gave him."
"Sure! After all, she was the main woman in his life, who led him to success," Michelle exclaimed, taking off her hair curlers. "I wonder if he would have succeeded without Borte and her sable fur coat? While you were telling me about his wife, I imagined her with your face. I can clearly see that picture - you galloping on a horse across the steppe, and next to you is your great Genghis Khan."
"And whose face does he have?" Ethel asked with a smile.
"Well, I don't know. Let it be Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson."
The friends burst out laughing, filling the small, cozy kitchen with ringing laughter.
"Listen, we've been chatting for too long," Ethel urged her friend, a tremor of anxiety in her voice. "Hurry up and get ready if you actually want to walk to university. We'll be late for the lecture otherwise. I can't afford to be late. Madame Gerard hinted that I'm on the verge of expulsion, and if I don't submit the article on time, I can kiss this semester goodbye. Everything's piling up at once. Etienne's gone, and now there's this news about Patrice Laurent!"
Michele finished her coffee and placed the cup in the sink with a deliberate, unhurried motion.
"I'm still terribly curious, though... what does a Russian restaurant have to do with any of this?"

Artem had grown accustomed to the fact that even on weekdays, the club was always packed to the rafters whenever his dance group, "The Cossack Spirit," performed. Their popularity had skyrocketed after their triumphant appearance on an MTV show, where Artem had reached the final round of a dance battle. Since then, he'd had no shortage of admirers. And why wouldn't he? What girl wouldn't fall for a tall, muscular guy with a mane of curly, light-brown hair, mesmerizing amber eyes, and a cheeky smile? There was a hint of exoticism in his appearance, inherited from one Kalmyk grandmother and another who was Tatar. His family joked that his Russian grandfathers had a weakness for exotic women.
Artem had been passionate about dancing since childhood. His mother had enrolled him in all sorts of clubs and activities: music and art schools, a dance studio, a young chess players' club, as well as football, basketball, and taekwondo. But only dancing truly captivated him. With this dance studio, which had become famous throughout Kalmykia, he had traveled half the country, participated in children's and youth festivals, won competitions, received all sorts of awards, and then enrolled in the directing department in Moscow. After settling in the capital, he dedicated himself to club dancing. With his new friends, they quickly put together a group and began performing in nightclubs.
After another dance number, Artem made his way to a table in the far corner of the hall, away from the noise and booming speakers, where Grisha was brooding, nose buried in a tablet, a bottle of beer in hand. He always accompanied them, a self-proclaimed talisman and their biggest fan of "The Cossack Spirit." In reality, Grisha attended all their shows to capitalize on the opportunity to meet the pretty girls who constantly buzzed around his attractive dancer friends.
Grisha was in a foul mood. It turned out he'd missed catching "khalyava"[1] with his test book at midnight and was now sulking about failing his test. Artem didn't believe in this student superstition called "Catching khalyava" and genuinely wondered, when during exam sessions in the heat and the cold, every midnight, the windows of the dormitories echoed with a chorus of fanatical shouts: "Freebie, come to me! Freebie, come to me! Freebie, come to me!" The belief was that after these cries, accompanied by waving test books, one had to place the book under their pillow and not open it until the professor himself opened it during the test or exam. This guaranteed unprecedented luck and excellent grades "for free."
"How could I forget about it?" Grisha lamented relentlessly. "It's sacred! I passed all my tests only with khalyava. I'll fail tomorrow, you'll see!"
"Stop whining! We'll figure out. We'll get through it somehow! Just relax and enjoy the evening."
"Easy for you to say!"
At that moment, Artem's phone rang, and he gladly turned his attention away from his friend's moaning, but frowned when he looked at the display.
"Mom?! At this hour... Hello, hi Mom! Is something wrong?"
"Hello, synok[2]! I wanted to tell you that I'm flying to Moscow tomorrow morning."
"What? I can't hear you well," he covered his other ear with his hand, trying to muffle the music.
"Are you at a club? I'm saying, I'm flying out tomorrow!"
"Where to?!"
"To Grandma Aisa's."
"To Paris?!"
"Yes. She was hospitalized after what happened, and she needs care. Aunt Gerenzal and I are flying, and as soon as she gets better, we'll all come back together. We hope, she'll recover before Grandma's birthday."
"But what happened?"
"Grandma Aisa was robbed. They took the family jewels that she inherited from her husband."
Artem whistled softly.
"Poor grandma! What time do you arrive? Do you want me to pick you up?"
"Why bother you with all the back and forth? I arrive at Vnukovo in the morning, then Aunt Gerenzal and I fly out of Sheremetyevo in the afternoon."
"I'll meet you and take you to Sheremetyevo in a taxi, and then I'll return to the city on the Aeroexpress. I'll make it back in time for the test."
"Synok, I don't want to cause you so much trouble. You better go to the university in the morning and calmly prepare for your test."
"No, Mom! It's no trouble for me."
"Thank you, dear! But I'm calling about another matter. What are your plans for the May holidays?"
"Nothing really. I was planning to come for Grandma's birthday a couple of days earlier, around the seventh."
"Could you come earlier? Dad is leaving on a business trip to Murmansk the day after tomorrow for a few days, and I don't want to leave Vika alone with Grandma. She'll definitely drive her to a heart attack: she'll be out partying late at night or running off to sleep at her friends' places. She needs to be watched, you know that yourself."
"Okay. If I have to, I have to," Artem sighed, not at all thrilled at the prospect of looking after his flighty sixteen-year-old sister.
After talking to his mother, he put his phone in his pocket.
"What was that conversation about Paris?" the curious Grisha immediately inquired. "Is Mom going on vacation?"
"Hardly! Mom's aunt Aisa, my grandma's sister, lives in Paris. She was robbed, and the shock put her in the hospital. So Mom, along with my Aunt Gerenzal, are going to look after her and then want to bring Grandma Aisa to my grandma's birthday when she gets better. Besides us, she has no relatives."
"Did they steal a lot, since she ended up in the hospital?"
"Family jewels. Grandma Aisa, fifteen years ago, managed to marry a French Kalmyk. He came to our city to see his historical homeland, and ended up falling in love and taking Grandma Aisa with him to France."
"Wow! And how old were they then?" Grisha was surprised.
"Somewhere around fifty. So, Grandma Aisa's husband died last year, he had no children, and all the inheritance passed to her. Including the jewels. And they were stolen now. That's probably why she collapsed from the stress. I don't know if it's true or not, but Grandma Aisa's husband said they were the treasures of Genghis Khan."
"Genghis Khan?! Seriously?"
"So it seems. I need to ask Belka, my cousin. She's Aunt Gerenzal's daughter. Belka loves stories about treasure hunts. Moreover, she's Grandma Aisa's favorite and definitely in the know. So tomorrow I need to meet Mom at the airport, and in the afternoon, I'll go to Elista to keep an eye on my crazy sister Vika."
"Wow! Then I'm coming with you! Only on the condition that you introduce me to Sweet Oyratka!" Grisha exclaimed, overjoyed.
"Okay," Artem sighed. "I have to go on stage in five minutes. So here's your task, since you want to come with me – buy us train tickets, I'll transfer the money to your card after the performance. Just buy tickets to Volgograd, we'll take the bus from there."
"Why such complications? First the train, then the bus? Why not a plane?"
"Because trains don't run directly to us, and flying would be twice as expensive. We could, of course, go straight by bus, but the train is much more comfortable. Just make sure the timing works so we can get to the station after the test."
"Damn! Tomorrow's the test!" Grisha recalled. "How am I going to pass it? How could I forget about the freebie!"
"Oh, God! Here we go again!"
Artem hurriedly took a swig of beer and fled from his lamenting friend to the dance floor.

[1] Khalyava (freebie) is something received for free. Here is the reference to "Catching khalyava" - a student sign that helps attract good luck in the exam. According to it, at midnight before the exam, you need to open your student test book on the page where this exam should be placed, stick it out of the window and pronounce the incantation formula three times: "Khalyava, come to me! Khalyava, come to me! Khalyava, come to me!” After that, you need to put your student test book under your pillow.
[2] Synok means “dear son”.

Darkness reigned, a bone-chilling cold permeated the air. Rain lashed at Elmira's face with brutal force. Tears, indistinguishable from the relentless downpour, streamed down her cheeks as she trudged along the highway. The world felt unbearable, a hostile wasteland mirroring the turmoil within her. Lost in bitter thoughts, Elia failed to notice the approaching glare of headlights until the very last moment. But something, a primal instinct perhaps, compelled her to turn. A gasp escaped her lips – a car was hurtling directly towards her.
Then, in that heart-stopping instant, Elmira saw the driver's face with stark clarity. Horror froze her in place; the blood in her veins turned to ice. Behind the wheel, impossibly, was herself!
"Elia! Elia!" A persistent voice cut through the darkness, and someone shook her shoulder with firm urgency. "Wake up!"
Elmira's eyelids fluttered open with difficulty, and she exhaled a shaky breath of relief. It was just a dream. She was safe, uninjured, merely a victim of the recurring nightmare that plagued her nights.
But the peace was fleeting. Lately, she'd been haunted by the same chilling vision: she stood alone in the middle of a dark forest, and a car sped toward her at breakneck speed. It felt so real. Every moment was so vivid, so tangible, that Elmira was always deeply unsettled after waking. A strange, inexplicable sense of déjà vu washed over her, as if this nightmare had actually happened to her before. But nothing like that had ever occurred in her life! The same dream, night after night, sent her heart racing, filling her soul with an unbearable ache of longing and dread.
"The same nightmare again?" Denis gently pulled her close, as if trying to shield her from the lingering terror of the night.
Elia nodded.
"Yes," she said, her voice still trembling. "I was walking through a dark forest, the rain was pouring down, and the wind was howling. I felt awful, I was crying for some reason, and then that car appeared again. It was speeding straight at me! I remember the blinding light of its headlights..."
"Okay, okay, sweetie! Just forget about the dream!"
"Wait, Denis, let me finish!" Elmira sat up in bed and looked at her boyfriend with a worried expression. "Something changed today. I couldn't see the driver before, but today I saw the face."
"Oh, really? And who was it?"
"Me! It was me, can you believe it?"
"Are you sure?" Denis asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.
"Well, at least it was the face I see in the mirror when I brush my teeth," Elia chuckled humorlessly. "Of course, I'm sure! It was me!"
A heavy sigh escaped her chest.
"Why am I having this strange dream? What's the point? What could it all mean?"
"It's probably something good," Denis said, smiling reassuringly. "They say when something bad happens in a dream, the opposite happens in real life. And I agree with that. Just think! The holidays start tomorrow, we're going to St. Petersburg tonight, and we'll be relaxing for three whole days. No lectures, seminars, or coursework! Just rest and fun!"
Elmira couldn't help but smile, succumbing to his infectious, cheerful mood.
"You're absolutely right. To hell with all these dreams!" She jumped out of bed. "Are you coming to university with me?"
"A-ha. I have a meeting about my thesis. What class do you have?"
"'MirEc,'" Elia said, referring to her World Economy[1] class with the dean of the Faculty of International Business and Business Administration. "Nika, Sophiko, and I skipped the seminar last week, so we can't miss it today, but we can be late. I'm going to take a shower."
"I'm coming with you!"
Half an hour later, Elmira appeared in the kitchen, already dressed and sporting light makeup. She poured muesli into a bowl and, after taking milk and apple juice from the refrigerator, settled onto a high stool at the counter across from her boyfriend, who was engrossed in reading the news on his iPad.
"I can't wait for tonight! I'm so looking forward to our trip!"
"What time will you be home?" Denis asked, taking a sip of coffee from a mug with the "Friends" logo.
"Around seven, probably. Andranika and I agreed to go to Afimall after class. What about you?"
"Today is April 30th, the last day of the month. I need to stop by..."
"Damn! April 30th!" Elia gasped, interrupting him. "How could I forget! It's Dan’ka's birthday today! And I didn't even send her a gift."
"Whose? Dan’ka's?" Denis asked, surprised.
"Yeah, Dana, my childhood friend from Elista."
"I've never heard of her!"
"That’s impossible! This is so awkward! I haven't contacted her once since I moved to Moscow. I haven't been in touch for almost half a year! And she's probably offended and staying silent. It's just that life here has been so hectic - transferring to MGIMO, meeting you, moving in with you... I'm so ashamed! I'm going to call her right now and wish her a happy birthday!"
Elmira grabbed her phone from the counter and immediately froze, looking bewildered.
"What's wrong?" Denis asked, watching her with curiosity.
"I lost my phone after I moved, and Dan’ka's number was on it. I don't remember it by heart. I'll try calling her home phone, I've remembered that since I was a kid. Maybe she's still home."
Elia dialed the number.
"Hello! Good morning!" she exclaimed a few moments later.
"Hello!" a gruff, sleepy woman's voice answered, clearly not expecting a call at such an early hour.
Elmira was taken aback. It wasn't Dana's mother's voice. Maybe some relative was visiting?
"May I speak with Dana?"
"With whom?!" the unfamiliar voice rasped back, laced with a hint of indignant annoyance.
"With Dana!"
"There's no one by that name residing here!"
"That's impossible! Is this 2-21-23?"
"Yes, it is," the voice confirmed, now laced with a touch of bewildered surprise.
"I don't understand! Is this the Bondarenko apartment?"
"There are no Bondarenkos here!"
"How long have you had this phone number? Perhaps they changed it," Elmira suggested, a knot of confusion tightening in her stomach.
"I've had it for thirteen years! If you don't know the exact number, don't you dare call and bother people at this ungodly hour!"
"I'm sorry, please don't hang up!" Elmira pleaded. "Do you live at 82 Shevtsova Street, apartment 127?"
"Yes! And I'm not answering any more of your idiotic questions!"
"I apologize for the inconvenience!" Elia managed to utter, but her interlocutor had already slammed the phone down with resounding finality.

[1] MirEc – Mirovaya Economika (World Economy)

Elmira was utterly stunned by what she had just heard. Her mind struggled to comprehend how such a thing could have happened – that Dana's apartment had been usurped by some brazen, unfamiliar woman. Could it be a scam, perhaps?
"What did she say?" Denis asked, his eyes filled with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"Some rude woman said that she's lived in that apartment with that phone number for thirteen years! But that's Danka's address and number!"
"Let me call. Maybe you just dialed the wrong number."
Denis recited the number under Elmira's direction and dialed.
"Hello! Good morning! Could you please call Dana to the phone?"
After two seconds, his eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he placed the phone back on the table with a thud.
"That psychopath just cursed me out! Maybe you did get something mixed up or misdialed by one digit?"
"No, that's not it! It's some kind of mystery!" Elia exclaimed, completely baffled. "Danka's had that phone number since elementary school. Maybe they really moved? Yes, that must be it."
"Wait a minute! Something doesn't add up. This woman said that she's lived in that apartment with the same number for thirteen years, not just a few months."
Elmira sighed heavily.
"You're right. One of us is going crazy: either me or that strange lady."
"Call someone from your class," Denis suggested. "Oh, right, you don't have their numbers! Then write to them on VKontakte."
"But I don't use social media, remember? Just Instagram[1]. I only made that so Sonya would leave me alone. She loves sharing all those funny videos from Insta."
"Let me search for Dana on my VK. Does she have an account there?"
"She's always on there, listening to music."
Denis opened the app on his iPad.
After several minutes spent searching for Dana's page, Elia bit her lip in concern.
"That's weird. Where did she disappear to? Let's search the school community among our graduating class. She's definitely there; she told me so herself."
"Looks like your Dana deleted her account," her boyfriend concluded after yet another fruitless search. "Because if she had just changed her username, she would still be in your school's group. But she's not among your graduating class."
"Now I'm even more worried about her. She would never delete herself from social media just like that. That means something bad happened to her."
"Let's still write to your classmates. Maybe someone knows where Dana disappeared to. Pity none of your classmates are online right now."
"Well, it's still early. Even Sonya isn't on social media at this hour."
Elia sent several messages and returned the iPad.
"Crap! We've lingered again. We need to speed things up so we're not late again," Denis said, glancing at the clock and jumping up from the table, stacking the dishes in the sink.
Elmira also stood up, hurriedly put the juice and milk back in the refrigerator, and suddenly, struck by a sudden inspiration, exclaimed:
"Maybe I should fly to Elista on the evening flight? I won't be able to enjoy walking around St. Petersburg, knowing that something happened to Dan’ka and that maybe she needs my help. Besides, I've been wanting to visit my grandmother's grave for a long time."
Denis frowned.
"Okay," he relented after a drawn-out pause, unable to withstand her pleading gaze. "If it's that important to you, we'll fly to Elista. And we'll go to St. Petersburg for May 9th."
Elia happily threw her arms around his neck.
"Thank you for understanding! You're the best in the world!" She showered him with kisses. "But you don't have to come with me. You'd be better off relaxing with your classmates. They did invite you to that countryside party, didn't they?"
"Not just me, us. You were invited too. But you turned down the invitation."
"Well, I don't know anyone there! That's why I preferred a romantic trip to St. Petersburg with you to being stuck at someone's dacha[2] with strangers for the entire holidays."
"But they all know you after the release of the new issue of ‘Mezhdunarodnik’, he said, referring to the university newspaper ‘Internationalist’. "The guys were jealous of me when they saw your photos. You're a university star now!"
"I'm no star! It's all my classmate from the editorial office. She found out that I work part-time translating from Japanese, and that impressed her so much that she decided to write about me in the ‘Mezhdunarodnik’."
"Why don't you want me to go with you?" Denis suddenly frowned again. "Maybe you're planning to meet up with an ex there?"
Elia sighed, barely suppressing a flash of annoyance. Seriously? My friend has disappeared, and you decide to throw a jealous fit?
"Because I won't have time for you," she blurted out. "I'm going to comb through the entire town, turn all my acquaintances upside down, run around Elista back and forth, and if you're around, especially with such a disgruntled look as you have now, I won't be able to concentrate. I'll be constantly distracted, wondering if you liked the food, if the service at the hotel is up to par, if you're bored... I'll be calmer if you go to your friends and enjoy the holidays."
Denis also flared up, listening to his girlfriend's impassioned speech, but he composed himself and, sighing, nodded.
"Okay, I understand. I won't get in your way."
"Oh, don't be offended!" Elia wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. "I would love to go to Elista with you, but not under these circumstances."
The guy's face softened.
"And where will you stay there? You said that after your grandma's death in November, you sold the apartment and, taking advantage of the presidential program, moved to Moscow. You don't have a place to live there anymore."
"I'll stay at the 'Elistina' hotel. Like our city, it means 'Sandy' in Russian. Can you wait five minutes? I'll pack my things in a travel bag and take it with me so I don't have to go home after class."
In the elevator, Denis, continuing to think about his girlfriend's trip to her homeland, inquired:
"Remember, you said that you lived in a suburb of Elista with some strange name as a child? What's it called?"
"Ulan Gol. It translates to Red River."
"Is there a Red River there?"
"No, of course not!" Elia laughed. "Usually everyone thinks that the suburb was named that in Soviet times, when red became its symbol. But in fact, the name originated long before that. It means Bloody River."
"Bloody?!"
"Yes. In fact, there's no river now. Only the name and the legend remain. Once upon a time, there was a small settlement in that place. On its edge, near the small river, lived a family with five beautiful daughters. The sisters had a gift. They could predict the future, interpret dreams, and heal people with herbs. Many turned to them for help, considering them almost saints, while other neighbors were afraid and called them witches. While their parents were alive, everything was more or less calm. But after their death, a tragedy occurred."
"What kind of tragedy?"
"There was a most eligible bachelor in the village named Mingiyan. He fell in love with one of the sisters - Amulanga. Of course, the other girls in the area hated the sisters even more after that. Mingiyan courted Amulanga for a long time, swore his love for her, and eventually won her affection. But after they spent the night together, he stopped coming to her, and soon married another girl. For Amulanga, it was like a knife in the back, because she was already expecting a child."
"Yes, back then, being an unmarried girl with a a baby must have truly been a tragedy."
"But the worst was yet to come for Amulanga. As fate would have it, after Mingiyan's wedding, livestock began to die throughout the settlement. The neighbors were consumed by rage. They blamed the sisters, believing they had cursed the animals, and decided to execute the 'witches'.
On that fateful day, the girls went to the river to wash clothes. That's where the enraged villagers found them. At first, they tried to drown the sisters, but meeting resistance, they started a massacre right there in the river. The water turned crimson with blood. Those brutes killed all the sisters except for Amulanga. She managed to leap onto a horse and escape into the steppe. Later, nomads took her in, and a few months later, she gave birth to a son."
"What happened to her after that? Did she avenge herself on the villagers?"
"A wealthy noyon, a noble prince, decided to marry off his son and, along with him and his retinue, set out for another settlement to meet the bride, whose father he had already made an agreement with. But at night, in the steppe, they were attacked by wolves. The attack was so sudden, and the companions were so exhausted from the long journey, that they couldn't put up a fight. By a miracle, only the noyon himself and his wounded son survived. The father managed to seat him next to him and ride away from that terrible place, where the wolves were having a feast. Eventually, the noyon reached the settlement where Amulanga now lived. His son was practically on the verge of death, but she managed to save him. She not only brought him back to life but completely healed him. Overjoyed, the noyon wanted to shower her with lavish gifts. He even intended to give her the most precious thing he possessed – the treasures of Genghis Khan himself, which had been passed down to him from ancestors who were close to the Khan. But Amulanga refused. She only asked that the noyon take her newborn son, take him away with him, and raise him to be a worthy man. He fulfilled her request."
"Why did she give him away?" Denis exclaimed, astonished.
"Shortly after that, Amulanga died. In the night, in her sleep, completely unexpectedly. I think she knew she didn't have long to live, which is why she gave her son to the noyon. And the river, which was named Ulan Gol, soon dried up completely, because it flowed with dead water."
"Yes, a sad story indeed!"
When Elmira finished her story, they had already descended to the parking lot and were approaching the car.
"We'll leave the bag with your things in the trunk," Denis decided. "As soon as I've taken care of things, I'll come to Afimall for you and take you to the airport."
"I can take the Aeroexpress," Elia suggested. "Or I’ll ask Andranika to drive me. And you can go to the dacha with the guys without any worries."
"You want to get rid of me as soon as possible? No way!" he said with a smile, pulling her close and kissing her. "I'll miss you and wait for your return."

[1] Instagram and Facebook social networks owned by Meta Platforms Inc. were declared extremist by the Tverskoy Court of Moscow on March 21, 2022 and banned in Russia
[2] A summer cottage