ANGELIC KISS (ENG)

Early in the morning, at dawn the next day, they were picked up by Georgiy’s shiny brand-new SUV with a huge luggage compartment. 

— Well then, fighters? — the guide addressed them. — Ready? This is exactly how real victories are achieved! 

They took an impressive supply of food with them, a couple of five-liter water bottles, thermal suits, hiking backpacks, and headed toward the Gergeti Trinity Church. Once there, they left the car behind, packed their things, changed clothes, and set off to explore the area. They climbed onto a broad, civilized-looking plateau paved with stone at the foot of the mountains. The view unfolding on all sides was magnificent: the village lay below them as if in the palm of a hand, while towering, threatening snow-covered mountains rose majestically around them, their peaks not sharp, but still imposing enough as they stretched upward. 

— And we still have to go all the way there, — Sophie said, pointing far, far into the distance toward a trail gradually disappearing behind the slopes. 

— Oh, come on, what’s the problem? — Emi replied. — We climbed mountains back home on Mtatsminda and managed just fine! I think this is basically the same thing, just a little longer. 

— Is it alright for a winged one here? — Georgiy asked curiously. 

— Fleya is a mountain spirit, — Mariam assured him. — She feels good here. 

At the center of the plateau stood a majestic church, concealing within its deaf stone walls and ancient icons the voices of many generations of souls. On the first morning after Christmas, many people had come to visit it: tourists with bulky bags, elderly local women in headscarves who had come to pray, and members of the clergy. 

— We actually planned to start yesterday, on Christmas itself. Can you imagine what this place would’ve looked like? Impossible to squeeze through, probably. Good thing they refused us, — Georgiy said cheerfully. 

The group moved toward the entrance. 

— Do you know why the church is built so high up? — he continued. — In the old days they used to say: to come closer to God, you have to make an effort. 

They were enveloped by the scent of candles, by the quiet light filtering out from the altar, while blissful singing echoed through the church. 

— We walked right into a service, — Sophie murmured. — It’s so wonderful! 

— Well then, shall we light a candle for a safe journey and for the health of our loved ones? — Georgiy suggested. 

Sophie walked toward the candle stand, and Emi followed after her. 

— Emi? — Sophie asked. — You’re… coming too? 

— Yeah, just for company. 

They stepped back outside. 

— We could’ve filmed our music video here too, it looks so much like that church in Kvetera, — Emi remarked, noticing the similarity in architectural form, — only this place is crowded. Why is it that whenever I’m with you guys, I keep getting drawn toward churches and temples? Again and again, without even realizing it, I end up in them… 

— Maybe Fleya is leading you there? — Mariam joked. 

Meanwhile, Fleya turned around and noticed a god approaching her, his skin tinted turquoise-green. His soft, relaxed facial features and his curious, piercing gaze revealed a soul that was very young and pure. 

— Hi! Have you been here long? — he asked Fleya. 

— Just today. I came here for tourism. I’m from Tbilisi. 

— I hope you have a wonderful trip. Do you know those people standing beside you? 

— They’re my friends. We live together. 

— That’s wonderful! Sorry for bothering you, I’m just very curious: I want to get to know everyone around here. You know, some people collect coins or samovars, while I collect faces in my memory. I carefully memorize every face, and then later recall them with delight. That’s my ability! Nature created us so beautifully! Farewell, I won’t keep you any longer! 

— Bye. Maybe we’ll meet again someday. 

At ten-thirty, the tourists departed from the church and headed upward. The road still seemed manageable: the path was paved with asphalt, the incline was gentle, and the wind was calm. 

— Save your strength! Seven kilometers until the next stop, then we’ll rest for an hour, sit down, eat something, — Georgiy encouraged them. 

They walked for around two hours. The asphalt road gave way to a vague trail winding between rocks: there were no landmarks or clear direction anymore, everything had been buried beneath snow, and they had to carve the path out themselves. What views unfolded from there — breathtaking views! Thick gray fog spread across the slopes, a snowstorm swirled violently through the air, and there was no village or civilization left in sight anymore — only mountain peaks looming around them like black shadows. Georgiy knew the route: from close up, it was still barely visible. 

They kept climbing higher and higher, still not complaining about exhaustion, still carrying anticipation and a spark in their eyes — everyone except Elvin. Mariam was the first to notice him lagging behind, walking slower and slower somewhere at the back. Sometimes she called out to him, sometimes lost sight of him, sometimes stopped to wait for him. Eventually, Elvin couldn’t take it anymore and shouted: 

— Guys, wait! I’ve decided to turn back while it’s not too late. I’m exhausted, my legs are giving out, I’m frozen through and through… Sorry, it’ll be better for me this way. 

Together with the others, Georgiy also stopped to listen and said: 

— No, friend, that’s not how this works. We travelers have a rule — one for all and all for one. If you really feel that bad, then we’d have to turn the entire group around and go back together at least as far as Gergeti, and by then it’ll probably already be getting dark, so we’d either have to postpone the hike until tomorrow again or cancel it altogether. So think about it, discuss it. Maybe I would let you go back alone, but the weather doesn’t allow it. You could get lost! And who’s supposed to come rescue you afterward? 

— Don’t worry, I know the way back. I won’t get lost, I memorized everything well. 

Mariam turned to him: 

— Elvin? You can’t do that! What do you mean you’re just going to leave and abandon everyone halfway through the route? And what if something dangerous really happens to you? Right, let’s all just wander wherever we want in the mountains with poor visibility! Don’t talk nonsense, Elvin! 

The others stood silently, watching what was happening. 

— It just became too hard for me, that’s all. Isn’t this better than forcing myself to keep climbing and pretending I’m fine? Weren’t we planning to come back late in the evening anyway? 

— What exactly were you listening with when the guide was explaining things? After this stop we still have another stretch to go, we’ll arrive at the top in the evening, spend the night there, and only head back tomorrow morning. 

— Can I stay alone overnight at the guesthouse? 

— No, you can’t… — Georgiy said, noticing a group of skiers approaching from the opposite direction. — Although… alright, blend in with that group and head back, fine, God be with you. Here, take the keys. Alright then, go on, catch up with them! 

Slightly exhausted, by lunchtime they reached a stop with the poetic name “Green Campsites” at an altitude of three thousand meters. The stop itself, however, consisted of almost nothing besides two lonely little huts in which one could barely recognize a transit point for tourists. Inside one of those huts they warmed themselves for a short while, opened canned vegetables, fish, chocolate, and began to eat. 

— How are you all feeling? — Sophie asked. — Are we ready to go all the way? 

— I still feel great, — Mariam answered, — but honestly, Elvin really upset me. 

— Yeah… the important thing is that you’re alright. What about you, Fleya? 

— I’m on wings, after all, — she replied, — and I’m not cold. I’m probably the most comfortable out of all of you. By the way, I forgot to mention — if someone gets too tired, I can carry one person in my arms. Emi? I think this is hardest on you, you’re the most fragile one here. 

— Yeah… sure, thank you, — Emi melted with affection and immediately threw herself into Fleya’s arms. 

— Come on, eat more actively, — Georgiy urged them on. — Otherwise you’ll get hungry later! 

— Thank you! — Sophie replied. — Yeah, guys, eat up! 

— By the way, do you know why out of all the beautiful places in our country, I lead tours specifically to Stepantsminda? 

— Why? 

— Because this place is home to me. I grew up here, in one of the stone houses of this harsh but warm village. I finished school here, met my future wife here… Ah, that was still during the Soviet Union, so long ago! Later work forced me to move to the city, but I constantly returned through trips like these. I can’t put into words how much I love Kazbek! Throughout my life, I’ve climbed it 142 times. 

— No way! Really that many? 

— Really! And do you know when I conquered the mountain for the first time? Take a guess! 

— Maybe at fifteen? 

— Almost guessed it, but I was even younger. I was only eleven years old. Well then, Kazbek is beautiful at any time of year, but somehow I especially fell in love with it in winter. Let’s move on to the next stop! Now we’ll climb to our final point — Betlemi Hut, at an altitude of three thousand six hundred and fifty meters. The distance itself isn’t very long, but because of exhaustion and the difficulty of the terrain, it may take us up to five hours. 

The fog gave way to clear weather, the sun blinding them so intensely that everyone had to put on dark glasses, while the twenty degrees of frost at that altitude turned into twenty-five. At last, it was time to continue onward. They lifted their backpacks, stepped outside, and headed into the high abyss. 

The remaining stretch of the journey turned out to be, frankly speaking, agonizing. They managed to hold themselves together relatively well while it was still daylight. But once dusk arrived, and then the sun disappeared completely, blacking out the entire landscape, everyone’s spirits collapsed entirely. We’re no longer walking with casual conversation, Sophie thought as she fought against the streams of wind flying at her face. We’re not making each other laugh with jokes anymore. Everyone is occupied by only one thought: “When will this finally end?!” and our words are turning into pleas for mercy. 

The wind lashed at their faces, freezing their ears, noses, fingertips — but even that wasn’t the worst part. The wind rushed violently around them, knocking people over; they slipped and fell. They climbed among glaciers, illuminating only the ground beneath their feet with flashlights. 

— Is this really safe? — Mariam asked in despair. 

— Completely, — the guide assured her, shouting breathlessly while trying to dodge the storm. — Hundreds, no, even thousands of tourists have gone through this route! 

Sophie had the hardest time of all: she whimpered from both pain and physical exhaustion. Her legs no longer obeyed her, tangling beneath her with every step upward. Every movement left her soaked with sweat, only for her body to freeze even harder afterward. Mariam was suffering too, but physically she was far stronger: she walked steadily, stumbling only a couple of times before immediately pushing onward again, still trying to encourage the others somehow: 

— We’re almost there, just another hundred meters! We’ll stop, warm up, eat dinner, lie down in warm beds — just imagine it! 

And Emi ended up in Fleya’s arms. The only thing tormenting her was the cold, and she tried to stay silent. 

I have it the easiest right now… she thought. I hope they’re not upset that Fleya is carrying me while they have to walk themselves, and for some reason I feel unbearably ashamed. 

Finally, they collided with some sort of building. They shined their flashlight toward it and saw the ugly painted facade of an old two-story utility structure and a plastic door in front of them. 

— Oh, dear God! — Sophie groaned. — It feels like we’ve entered paradise! 

— Yeah! Whew! — Mariam gasped for breath. — Thank God we’re alive! 

They exhaled deeply and stepped inside. 

— That’s it! This is the end of our route — we’ll spend the night here. Congratulations, you made it, the mountains have hardened you! I hope this trip turns out unforgettable for you! — Georgiy announced solemnly before disappearing into some room, after which nobody saw him again until morning. 

Emi, Mariam, Sophie, and Fleya remained in the kitchen. 

— No, this isn’t Georgia anymore, — Sophie looked around. — It’s like some international zone outside of borders and statuses, closer to outer space than to Earth. 

Inside, everything was made of boards and gray stone: old, shaky, bare. The walls were almost completely covered with informational posters in different languages, flags from different countries, and a Soviet portrait of Vysotsky; outside there were only slopes and nothing else. If one tried to look beyond them, an almost alien landscape revealed itself. In the kitchen stood a long bench and several tables lined up in a row. They sat down. With what pleasure they devoured those canned foods! 

— I still have some tea left in my thermos, — Mariam said, sharing it with everyone. 

They drank tea and warmed themselves. There was almost nobody there besides them, Georgiy, and one elderly woman sitting at the far end of the table. She was a nun, completely dressed in black. 

— Welcome, — she said in a monotone voice. 

— Hello! Do you live here? — Sophie asked, slightly frightened. 

— Yes, I live here. 

— Ah… are you here all alone? — Emi asked sympathetically. 

— Yes, I’m here alone. 

— Maybe we can help you with something? — Mariam offered. — Isn’t it dangerous for you here? 

— No, it isn’t dangerous for me. My daughter comes sometimes. I’m waiting for a cat. A cat should arrive here soon. 

The girls walked away with an eerie feeling, while the nun continued reading the Gospel aloud in Georgian. 

The sleeping room where they were supposed to spend the night was extremely cramped, resembling a closet in both size and shape. The entire room was occupied by two large inflatable mattresses: one below, the other above. The walls were bare, and the strong scent of wood filled the air. It was unbearably stuffy and hot, but after the climb it felt blissful. 

There was nothing to do there: you could step outside, see absolutely nothing, and freeze numb from the cold; you could lie inside the room and practically stew from the heat; you could alternate between those two activities; or you could go sit in the kitchen, where it was relatively cool, but where the nun was loudly reading aloud the entire time. 

— Guys, I’m sorry, — Sophie said with hysterical laughter, lying on the mattress. — I had no idea! 

— It’s okay, Sophie, we’re not mad, — Mariam replied. — I even kind of liked it. At least it wasn’t boring — an adventure. That’s “The Five-Pointed Star” for you! 

— Yeah, honestly, I kind of liked it too, except my head hurts like hell… — Emi said. — But the fact that I made it there alive and unharmed is thanks to Fleya. 

It was only half past eight in the evening, yet it felt as though it were already deep night — no, even a second sleepless night in a row. They were all that exhausted. Still, nobody went to bed. Better to “enjoy” the place a little longer, to delay tomorrow’s descent for as long as possible. 

— Let’s make up a story together, one sentence at a time, — Sophie whispered and turned on some quiet, slightly eerie music. — I’ll start: once upon a time, somewhere in these mountains, there lived a teenage boy with large eyes, a calm face, and a piercing gaze. He wandered along the slopes all day long, up and down, searching for someone. 

— He had a younger sister, — Emi continued, — and together they were searching for a goddess, a goddess just like our Fleya. 

— The goddess’s name was Maya, — said Fleya. — She was my friend. She was my friend when I was very little, and when my parents still took care of me. 

— Fleya, you decided to include yourself in the story too? — Emi asked. — We’re making this up, you know. 

— Yes, but I can make things up about myself too! — Fleya replied. 

Then it was Mariam’s turn: 

— That Maya must have wanted to understand human love, and that’s why she kept following the boy and the girl around. 

Little by little, sentence by sentence, the story drifted into something darker, until: 

“they lay dead in a cold white room buried beneath snow, while the gods admired them, kissed their cheeks and foreheads, and painted posthumous portraits with their own blood.” 

— Okay, let’s stop there, — Emi asked quietly. — It’s starting to scare even me. 

— Fine, — Sophie replied. — But honestly, after today I feel like we’re not just friends anymore — we’re a real team now, the kind that isn’t afraid of anything. 

— Exactly. The most important thing is that we’re together. 

Mariam and Fleya had already fallen asleep. 

— Emi, — Sophie whispered, — let me take a picture of you. I brought my camera with me. 

She took out her Polaroid, switched on the flashlight, and snapped a photo that immediately slid out onto the thick white paper. Blurry, dim — but the important thing was that it captured Emi in that moment: beautiful, overflowing with life, beside someone close to her. Sophie kept the photograph for herself, lay down, and still couldn’t fall asleep. 

The drunken confession Emi had made on the first day of the trip kept replaying in her head — the confession that she still couldn’t “forget” Mariam, words that had clearly carried a romantic undertone. 

“Could it really be that she’s still in love with her, and I’m only here as a distraction?” Sophie thought. 

She tossed and turned for a long time, looked once more at the photograph, then at the sleeping, sweat-covered Emi, kissed her softly, and finally fell asleep. 

By noon the next day, they had already returned to the village. They descended quickly, in daylight, without incident, even passing the “Green Campsites” without taking a break. Emi, Sophie, and Fleya went to have lunch at a restaurant first, while Mariam rushed back to the guesthouse room. 

— Elvin, my dear! — she said, hugging him. — How were you here? Weren’t you lonely without us? 

— Yeah, it was a little dull, but it’s okay. I listened to some creepy audiobook. 

— You know, honestly, it’s probably a good thing you stayed behind. We almost died up there. It really wasn’t pleasant. 

— Seriously? 

— Nah, I’m joking. We were just all exhausted, that’s all. Everything’s fine. But it would’ve been more fun with you there. 

And once again — the wooden restaurant. 

— One Adjarian khachapuri and a berry lemonade, please, — Emi ordered. 

— And two more khachapuris, — Sophie added. 

The waiter left, and Emi sat there with her head turned toward the window, staring thoughtfully at the enormous mountain they had just conquered. 

— What are you thinking about? 

— Oh, nothing… It’s just that classes start again on the twelfth, and I only just remembered. I’ve had almost a month of vacation, and I’ve completely fallen out of it. I haven’t drawn, drafted, or even picked up a pencil once. I’ve been going to clubs, performing on stage, singing songs. Maybe… maybe none of this is really me after all? 

— You mean architecture? 

— Yeah… though it’s still very important to me, and I still find it interesting. It’s just that before, I was certain I’d become an architect, and now I don’t understand anything anymore… 

— That’s not a bad thing. People’s interests change. You can still change your path if you want to. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. Back in high school, I wanted to become an athlete. I was constantly training, preparing for competitions… And now look at me — me and sports are worlds apart. I just go to the gym and the pool once a week now. 

— Really? I didn’t know that. Interesting… Honestly, Mariam infected me with this dream of having a band. Before, I was just participating unconsciously, tagging along, I guess. But now I keep thinking, “what if?..” And about university… I’m still embarrassed about that awful situation with my last project, even though I fixed it afterward. 

— What project? 

— The one Fleya practically made for me. I still remember standing there blushing in front of the professor…