Chapter 1

Hello, my dear friends! I want to tell you a little about what prompted me to write books. Several dozen of them have already been written, they were originally published by the Ridero publishing house, now they have already spread to many writing platforms.

I write books on elven themes, the work of John Reuel Tolkien, Muriel Barbery, Joan Rowling is very inspiring. She learned to play the recorder and hanga from musician Elizbar. I started writing books because a lot of information began to come from a subtle, mental plan about life processes. It's very good that I'm an artist, and I like to illustrate my texts. I try to write easily, unobtrusively, with irony. The books contain fairy tales, travel stories, descriptions of my research in the field of psychology. I believe that in the soul of every person who loves art, there is an elven part responsible for interaction with harmony and an inner child.

The inner child can calm down and freeze as a result of traumatic events, but it is possible and necessary to resuscitate him. This is what I try to do when I write my books and conduct fairy-tale therapeutic and psychodramatic processes. Inner children love to play. Received a certificate "Working with psychotrauma", studied ways to bring the psyche into a stable state. I tried everything on myself, it is important to resuscitate your elven child first, give him attention and love. The first book "The Land of Uninvented Fairy Tales" contains descriptions of magical worlds and travels in order to gain integrity. It is suitable for reading for children from six years and older. I'm recording an audiobook now. One of my last books is called "Awakening of unconscious memories. In attempts to penetrate the inner Rivendell." The books are written as a result of the search for inner harmony, inspired by music, elven legends and travels. I am an artist, a member of the International Art Foundation since 2007, I illustrate my books myself. I write under the pseudonym Mariagus. Books can be found on a large number of platforms, well distributed in electronic versions. I want to warn you that there may be no author's illustrations in the free versions, and this is very important, since I am a writer. I draw only to the music, so the books sound.

I want the books to find their readers, sophisticated and musically minded.

I made the first version of the translation of my fairy tales into English. I don't speak this language very well, so it's hard for me to assess the quality of the translation. I hope you will like the fairy tales, please rate them, if it's not difficult, and then I'll understand whether to continue doing it or write only in Russian.

               The Tale of the Fox

It was a beautiful, sunny spring day. Lena was sitting on the bank of a river when, quite unexpectedly, she noticed a small fox running through the grass. Its golden coat shimmered in the sunlight.

With great curiosity, Lena watched the little creature as it darted along the riverbank. The fox slipped behind a tree, and a minute later, a young woman stepped out from behind it.

She was a beautiful red-haired girl, graceful and light-footed. She looked at Lena attentively, then walked toward her.

Lena was a little afraid of talking to shapeshifters. After all, how would you have felt in her place? But the girl looked so warm and friendly that Lena soon relaxed and opened herself to conversation.

The Fox Girl introduced herself as Liu Xing. She told Lena that she had not learned to transform into a fox simply for the sake of it. Life had been difficult for her.

Her mother had been mentally unwell, and military conflicts were constantly breaking out in their country. Liu Xing had been forced to seek safety and protection through magic. And, as it turned out, she had a natural talent for it. She became remarkably skilled.

“Would you like me to teach you, too?” Liu Xing asked Lena. “I can see that you have magical abilities as well. We can bring them to life and make them stronger. Come back here tomorrow. I have a lot to teach you.”

The next day, Lena returned to meet her new friend.

Liu Xing spread out a beautiful blanket and carefully arranged several musical instruments upon it. After a short introductory lesson, she explained how important it was to remain connected to one’s own spirit — and that one of the easiest ways to reach it was through music.

Then she picked up a small harp and began to play.

And that was when the real magic began.

Lena felt as though she had suddenly come home.

Only this home was inside her.

It was warm and peaceful there. The air smelled of coffee with cinnamon and freshly baked rolls. Her grandparents were alive there. So were her dogs and cats, her hamsters, and even her little albino hedgehog.

Everything she had been longing for throughout her life seemed to exist in that place. It was as though the very essence of love and all the wisdom gathered through a lifetime had been distilled into one luminous space.

My spirit lives there, Lena thought when the music finally faded away.

“You have just received the most important lesson of all,” Liu Xing said. “Now you know the most essential thing about yourself. And you will always be able to return to your own essence. Now, let us move on to the next lessons.”

The next lesson was about healing oneself and others through music.

Lena learned to hear and feel the subtle vibrations within her body and to bring them back into harmony through sound. She was remarkably good at it.

Once, she even managed to cure a headache by placing a singing bowl against her forehead and gently tuning its vibrations to those of her body.

Liu Xing gave her a short lecture.

“All matter is made of waves of sound. Through vibration and changes in frequency, the world itself can be transformed. This is a very ancient and powerful instrument, and it must be approached with great care and respect.

“Never again allow the life around you to be polluted by low, coarse vibrations. Find your own frequency and do not be afraid. Sooner or later, the world will begin to resonate with you. The space around you will change. Interesting and important things will begin to happen — things you will be able to influence.

“But you must understand that possessing such a powerful instrument is a great responsibility. It must be used with pure intentions, and you must remain in harmony with yourself.”

“How do you manage to turn into a fox?” Lena asked.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” Liu Xing replied.

How Liu Xing Learned to Become a Fox

“I have always resembled a little fox.

“When my life became unbearably difficult, I went into the forest to commune with the spirits of my ancestors. I stayed there for five days.

“I decided to live in the forest for a while because it felt safer there. It was summer, so I was not cold. I made a fire and spent hours simply watching the flames.

“Without knowing why, I began to sing ancient songs that seemed to rise from somewhere deep within my subconscious. That night, the spirits came to me in a dream and told me they would try to help.

“On the third night, a fox came to me.

“She looked remarkably like my grandmother.

“She spoke to me telepathically, and I could feel some kind of warm ancestral current flowing through her — something familiar, protective, and deeply connected to me.

“The fox stayed with me through the night and into the following day. The next night, she slept at my feet.

“When I woke in the morning, I saw that she had died.

“I believe the spirit of that fox passed into me, and with it I inherited all her experience and all the gifts she had developed throughout her existence.

“It was a true treasure.

“Within her lived the memories of many lifetimes, lived in many different forms.

“In one of those lives, she had been an apprentice of Merlin. He had taught her how to transform the body and take the shape of animals.

“I received that knowledge with gratitude.

“Becoming a fox was the easiest and most natural transformation for me, because I already understood the psychology of that animal so well.

“Now you know my story.

“This ability saved my life more than once in the years that followed. You are capable of it, too. But first you must encounter your own animal guardian — and truly desire to master the art of transformation.

“It takes an enormous amount of determination and courage.

“My own circumstances led me to it. And I have no doubt that you, too, will learn this skill if the time ever comes when you need it.”

That was how Liu Xing ended her story.

Lena listened intently. She felt as though the story were somehow happening to her, too.

Evening was falling.

Lost in thought, she made her way home.

“Now, let’s talk about time,” Liu Xing said the following day.

“That is a very important subject for me. I have a complicated relationship with time. I often become distressed when I am late or when there is not enough time. And I become frustrated when time seems to fly too quickly.

“I want to learn so many things and accomplish so much, but at the same time, I do not want to rush. I would rather live slowly and deliberately, with a sense of inner comfort,” Lena confessed.

“I understand what you mean, dear,” Liu Xing said.

“We have to learn how to build a relationship with time. We need to harmonize our inner creative flow with the flow of time itself.

“Music can help us here — our inner sense of rhythm, along with a philosophical attitude toward life.

“You will have time for everything.

“And if there is something you do not have time to accomplish, someone else will carry it forward and complete it. You can trust that.

“Neurosis, haste, and anxiety will not help us. We must remain calm and confident in our own personal rhythm of time, and in the way we choose to use it.

“Think about what makes you nervous. What is it that you believe you should have done, but did not?”

“I did not get to say goodbye to my grandmother before she died,” Lena answered.

“Your grandmother understood, and she forgave you. You can be sure of that.

“It is this unfinished moment that continues to trouble you.

“Say goodbye to her now. She can hear you,” Liu Xing said gently.

Lena realized that there was nothing stopping her from saying goodbye. It could be done at any time.

She quietly reached out in her thoughts, searching for a connection with her grandmother.

And then she heard a message:

You will have time for everything.

Her grandmother had been generous and understanding. She had never been angry that Lena had not said goodbye.

What saddened her was seeing her granddaughter suffer because of it.

When the silent conversation was over, Lena felt peaceful again. She sent her grandmother her love and gratitude.

Her grandmother smiled.

Then she dissolved into light.

A great weight seemed to lift from Lena’s heart.

At their final lesson, Liu Xing looked at Lena and said:

“I have tried to pass on my experience to you. I hope it will be useful.

“We must not hide our knowledge or keep it locked away, because it does not truly belong to us. This experience belongs to everyone.

“Please share what you learn. Do not hide it. Do not claim it as your own.

“Only then can you continue the chain of masters that began in ancient times.

“Do not be afraid of uncertainty, or of things you do not understand. We all live and act within uncertainty. None of us can see the whole picture of life.

“That is what makes it so fascinating.

“And everything has its own time.

“Now is the time to absorb what you have learned and move forward — upward, outward, inward, in every possible direction.

“I must leave you now.

“Thank you for not being afraid. Thank you for not closing yourself off, and for accepting what I had to pass on to you.

“You are a person of light, and people like you are deeply needed in this world.

“Goodbye, dear.

“I must continue on my way.”

With those words, Liu Xing, just like Lena’s grandmother before her, dissolved into light.

The air filled with delicate musical sounds, like the ringing of tiny Chinese bells...

Lena woke up.

She was lying on the grass beside the river.

My goodness. What a dream.

It felt like a true treasure.

I have to write it all down before I forget.

With that thought, she opened her favorite turquoise notebook and began to write...

      The Land of Unwritten Fairy Tales

The sky was already glowing with разноцветные stars when a little cat named Mushka caught the scent of honey, roses, and sweet cheese buns. All of these delicious things were being carried in a bag by a girl with two mischievous ponytails on her head.

Her name was Marta, and she was on her way home to the little seaside cottage her parents had rented for the summer.

Marta was curious and possessed a truly extraordinary imagination. At that very moment, she was a ballerina wearing an invisible crown upon her head. She had smelled every flower along the way, talked to them, confessed her love to some of them, and walked along the edge of the pavement as if it were a tightrope—without falling even once.

She had just decided to stop for a sweet bun when she spotted a tiny golden snake in the grass.

The snake swiftly slipped between the bushes, and Marta dashed after it.

Pushing her way through the bushes, Marta suddenly found herself in an ancient park.

The trees there were astonishing in both shape and size. Enormous trees stretched all the way up to the pinkish clouds of the evening sky.

The little snake disappeared into a tiny opening in the bark of one of the trees.

Marta began wondering how she might get it out when she suddenly heard a voice:

“Don’t worry. It will crawl out by itself tomorrow.”

The voice belonged to a bird with violet eyes and a rosy beak.

For some reason, it seemed perfectly natural to Marta to talk to a bird.

“Hello, Bird! Could you tell me where I am?” she asked.

“You are in the Land of Unwritten Fairy Tales. And now you won’t be able to leave until someone in your world invents a fairy tale about you. You must do something truly remarkable here—something so vivid and wonderful that someone will get the idea to write a story about you. Then I will help you return home,” the bird replied.

“Well, that won’t be difficult. I’ve always wanted to become the heroine of a fairy tale. I’ll go and look for adventures!” Marta answered cheerfully, and set off down the path leading into the forest.

Marta walked on.

She wandered through the forest park, watching the lives of its inhabitants and examining brightly colored little bugs. The insects pulled funny faces at her.

“Why is nothing happening for so long?” Marta wondered. “I think it’s time to start imagining properly.”

She closed her eyes.

And when she opened them again, she froze.

A huge, multicolored octopus was descending from the sky. Sitting on its back was a dark-skinned woman with a dazzling smile.

“Perhaps this is a little too much,” Marta thought, “but I simply wanted to fly. And this world seems to have a wonderful sense of humor.”

“Hello, Marta. My name is Rosa Mirra. I’m a transporter. Where would you like me to take you?”

“Could you take me somewhere where people live?” Marta asked.

After making arrangements with Rosa, Marta climbed onto the octopus’s back, and they soared above the park.

They flew over such beautiful places that Marta could hardly breathe from wonder.

Mountains, rivers, lakes, fields—everything shimmered and glowed in countless shades of color and light.

Then little villages appeared below them, with stork nests perched on their rooftops.

At last, they began to descend gently into the center of a city, beside a beautiful arched gateway.

Marta was left standing alone in front of the gates.

“What could be behind them?” she wondered. “Perhaps a fat giant… No, I don’t think so. Or maybe a family of wizards. Yes! I like that much better.”

And Marta knocked.

The door was opened by a boy of about twelve. He was not surprised to see her at all. Instead, he happily invited her inside.

“My name is Dan. My sister is Agatha. Our parents aren’t home right now—only our grandmother, Margot, is here. Our parents are at the theater. Mom is an actress, and Dad is a director.”

They entered a dim, mysterious room.

A girl with a magnificent mass of red hair came to greet them. This was Agatha.

Their grandmother, Margot—a slender former ballerina—brought them some delicious tea.

“We were just getting ready to go to the theater to see our parents. Would you like to come with us, Marta?”

“Of course! I love the theater,” Marta said, nodding eagerly.

And off they went.

The play was called The Fairy of the Island of Dreams, and the children’s mother played the leading role.

The theater looked like an enormous cream cake decorated with marzipan.

“Just be careful, Marta,” Grandma Margot warned her. “There are many spirits in the theater. Spirits adore the theater, so they fly here from everywhere to watch new performances. They usually hang beneath the ceiling. So when you enter the auditorium, remember to greet them.”

Marta had never seen such an unusual theater.

She looked up at the ceiling and saw delicate, multicolored shadows gathered on either side of the chandelier.

When she greeted them, she felt a warm, friendly wave flowing from above.

The play was breathtaking.

There was dancing and singing. The actors whirled across the stage and soared toward the ceiling. Fireflies and butterflies fluttered through the auditorium.

At the end of the performance, fountains of shimmering glitter burst from the floor of the stage. The glitter settled onto the audience’s clothes and seats, only to vanish by itself moments later.

The leading role was played by the children’s mother—a delicate, graceful woman with a magnificent voice.

Whenever she sang, everything around her seemed to fall silent.

You could almost hear the audience’s hearts beating.

When they returned home and sat down for tea, their mother, Jeanne, and their father, George, began asking Marta where she had come from.

Then Jeanne said that, as it happened, they needed Marta’s help.

“Your fairy tale must be very interesting,” she explained. “And for that, it needs some difficulties. Unfortunately, difficulties have appeared in our world as well.

“Holes have opened in the fabric of space. They lead here from another world—a world that is less harmonious and peaceful than ours. Through these openings, dark and negative beings are finding their way into our world.

“We must close the holes. But it has to be done carefully and with love. Otherwise, it simply won’t work.

“Tonight there will be a service at our temple. We will pray and meditate for the safety of our world. You can join us at the Temple of Unity.”

That night, they went to the temple.

The adults explained:

“Look, children. The service is about to begin. The priests will walk around the temple carrying candles, and everyone will follow them. And together we will sing about our unity: One Heart, One World, while holding hands.”

Marta stood there, spellbound by the beauty of the ceremony.

She could feel that the power of unity and love growing among these wonderful people was driving evil out of their world.

By its very nature, evil was divided and fractured. It could not withstand such energy.

After the service, Marta had the most extraordinary dreams.

Marta was asleep, dreaming of her mother.

Her mother spoke to her, and Marta told her everything that had happened. She begged her mother to write a fairy tale about it.

Her mother promised that she would.

Then Marta walked through fields and forests with her cat, telling her about all her adventures.

The cat listened carefully and said that she, too, knew many interesting things and would certainly share her secrets one day.

In the morning, Marta began thinking that she really ought to return home, wonderful though this world was.

She remembered that the bird with the violet beak had promised to help her.

“I have to concentrate and call her,” Marta thought. “I need to imagine her flying here.”

And there she was—the bird appeared on the windowsill.

“Hello, my dear! Your fairy tale is being written, but it isn’t finished yet. In the meantime, there is still time. Ask this world whatever you would like to know. It will surely answer you.”

“I want to play a game of searching for something hidden and mysterious,” Marta said. “Or perhaps play house, or mothers and daughters, or some other interesting game.”

“Clever girl! It is while we are playing that answers to the most important questions often come to us. You can play anything you like.

“Well, your time starts now. One, two, three…”

And the bird disappeared.

Marta went downstairs for breakfast and saw that everyone looked terribly worried.

“Marta, Dan disappeared right out of his bed while he was sleeping,” Jeanne told her. “But he left a note. It says: I’m visiting the Cat of the Night. It’s obviously a riddle. We should ask the theater cats. Perhaps they know something.”

And Marta went to the theater to speak with the cats.

The cats told her that, judging by everything they knew, Dan was probably with the Fairy of Dreams, on the shore of the Sea of Ideas.

Marta needed a transporter.

And Rosa Mirra did not keep her waiting long. She arrived smiling, as always.

They reached the place very quickly.

Marta saw a small violet-colored house standing on the shore of a sea that shimmered with every color imaginable. There was no fence around it.

Before saying goodbye, Rosa warned her:

“Just don’t swim too far out. Remember, you’re still little.”

Marta suddenly had a great desire to swim.

The moment she stepped into the water, she felt the heavy thoughts inside her head begin to loosen. They became lighter, brighter, more transparent.

Ideas floated past her like fish—ideas for novels, films, and even technical inventions.

You could catch them, but it wasn’t easy.

You had to know exactly what you wanted: what book you wished to write, what picture you wanted to paint, or what particular problem you wanted to solve in your life.

And, most importantly, you had to be able to hear the voice of your truest desires.

Marta thought:

“I want to find Dan and rid the world of evil.”

She caught the first idea quite quickly.

But the second one required her to dive very deep.

“I’ll come back here when I’m grown up,” she decided.

When she climbed back onto the shore, she already knew how to find Dan.

Marta knocked on the door of the violet house.

A very pleasant middle-aged woman in a simple house dress opened it.

“Hello, Marta! I know you. We have met in your dreams. There is one of your dreams I love to revisit—it is such an interesting one.

“I know you are looking for Dan, and it is time for him to go home. He spent the whole night wandering across the rooftops with the Cat of the Night, and now he is resting.

“There she is—our Aurora. Isn’t she wonderful?”

The cat Aurora was white and pink and shimmered with every shade of the sky.

She led Marta upstairs.

There was Dan, already awake. He was watching his baby dreams again because he wanted to find answers to some of his questions.

“Danny, how could you disappear like that?” Marta scolded him gently. “You can only be forgiven if you had a very good reason.”

“I did,” Dan replied. “I really wanted to know where I was before I was born. Now I know the answer, and we can go home.”

As they flew back, Marta asked him where he had been before he was born.

“I simply know and can feel that place,” Dan said. “I’ll try to describe it to you, although it’s difficult.

“It was something like a children’s summer camp. There were different groups, and each group had its own counselors. They prepared us and taught us how to live in this world and how to carry out certain tasks.

“Then they sent us here through a cave. Before we came, we drank a potion of forgetfulness.

“Before that, we made a promise to each other—that we would try very hard to meet again. We were all like brothers and sisters.”

“Danny, how wonderful it is to remember what existed before you were born!” Marta exclaimed.

They quickly reached home.

Dan’s parents accepted his explanation, although his little sister Agatha was somewhat upset that he had not taken her with him.

Marta began thinking about how she could return to her own parents. They must have missed her terribly by now.

The bird with the rosy beak did not keep her waiting long.

“Yes, my dear. It is time for you to return. Your mother has already written your fairy tale. Now she is thinking about how to finish it, and we will help her.

“Let’s fly to the forest park where it all began.”

Marta said goodbye to the family who had become like her own.

“Goodbye! I will definitely come back. I’ll write fairy tales about all of you. And we will meet again—I have no doubt about it,” she said.

When Marta reached the old forest park, she tried to find the tree where the little golden snake had hidden.

The snake was a guide for traveling through space.

Marta followed it, and soon she found herself beside the very bushes through which she had first entered the Land of Unwritten Fairy Tales.

She said goodbye to the bird, crawled through the bushes, and suddenly found herself back in our world.

And if you stop to think about it, our world is quite magical and extraordinary too.

And so, completely happy, Marta ran home.