home » What to wear with » Gromyko Olga “Profession: witch” (description of a series of books). Gromyko Olga “Profession: witch” (description of a series of books) Profession witch

Gromyko Olga “Profession: witch” (description of a series of books). Gromyko Olga “Profession: witch” (description of a series of books) Profession witch

FACULTY OF THEORETICAL AND PRACTICAL MAGIC

DEPARTMENT OF MAGIC PRACTITIONERS

Part one
Social structure, life and customs of the vampire community

Vic. - And what? Do you have something against vampires?

R. Asprin. "M.I.F. Corporation"

Introduction

Today turned out to be a good day. Warm. Windless.

The second ten days of the month slowly trickled through the clepsydra of sunny summer, and the voices of finches coming from the roadside bushes rang in my ears. I drove through their nesting grounds, as if along the border strip. The strip was a road, abandoned, pecked by the dusty grass of Crooked Bolshak. The finches were alternately indignant at the intrusion of a man on a white horse into their private domain, the rollicking trills were replaced by hoarse chirping, the birds fussily fluttered along the branches, disturbing the foliage. The multi-colored border around the black drying puddles exploded with hundreds of heat-weary moths and spun upward in a whirlwind of fluttering wings. The reins, wrapped in a loop, hung from the pommel. I swayed in the saddle like a sack of cereal, holding the letter lying on my knees with my left hand and trying to make out the runes jumping before my eyes. Chamomile took advantage of my relaxed state, slowing down and slowing down her pace, hoping that I, engrossed in reading, would not notice her insidious maneuver and would let her stop and calmly nibble the grass.

-What are you doing, my dear? Come on, move your hooves!

The rogue filly snored in disappointment.

- Come on, come on, hack.

I made myself comfortable, if at all it is possible to make myself comfortable on that tortured object, which for me was a hard breech saddle on the third day of the journey. Chamomile's mane in thin ringlets went down to the pommel, tucked between the pages of a plump letter, which I was supposed to hand over to the Lord of Dogeva and which I had already voluntarily opened with the help of magic for about five minutes, without touching the weighty seal on the string. The imprint of the ring was clearly visible on the scarlet wax - thirteen runes and a unicorn intertwined with a dragon in the center.

Remorse in no way accompanied this pastime. Firstly, the letter was written by my Teacher, that is, he could not tell the Lord of Dogeva anything more offensive or new than I knew about myself. On the other hand, what if the Teacher wrote this letter in a state of complacency and peace unusual for him? I must live up to my description.

And thirdly, Varvara is not the only curious woman on earth. I tried not to think about the punishment that befell the above.

So, I started reading.

“Dear Lord of Dogeva, noble Arr’akktur tor Ordvist Sh’eonell of the clan...”

Mura, heraldry, non-binding politeness. I'm skipping it. I'm skipping the page. Second. The runes are small, tricky, and you can’t figure them out right away. My Teacher’s handwriting is the best for secret documents. He should write cheat sheets for exams. When will this introduction end?! Also for me, Lord - on the map of this Dogeva there is a copper coin, and honors - on a golden treasure! I wonder if Arr'akktur himself will read it? Unlikely, unless he has progressive delusions of grandeur. In this case, shouldn’t I, a law-abiding resident of the sovereign city of Starmin, the capital of Beloria, the official residence of the highly respected His Highness King Naum, practice awe in advance? After all, I am an insignificant person, unremarkable in anything, except for golden-brown hair with red streaks and a harmful character. The first quality is hereditary, the second is acquired. My most detailed autobiography - three lines with a trinket at the end: an orphan, eighteen years ago had the misfortune of being born into a family of hereditary field workers, that is, villagers, in the intervals between the spring and autumn sufferings she barely learned to read and write, and eight years ago she ran away to Starmin and entered the Higher School...

Here my studies in literature, diplomacy and genealogy were rudely interrupted. Very rude. I barely had time to catch the leaves that were crawling in different directions. Romashka, an incorrigible saboteur, thoughtfully chewed the bridle, rattling the iron, while an unfamiliar and very suspicious type of overgrown appearance defiantly shook a homemade crossbow with a dirty reusable arrow in front of the horse's face, so it was unclear who he was going to rob - me or Romashka. I sat up in the stirrups, examining the rusty tip with interest.

“I don’t think this is the best place to trade antiques,” I confidentially told the stranger. “In Starmin they would have torn him off your hands.” Or rather, they cut it off. You know, they really don’t like robbers there...

Chamomile sniffed the crossbow, snorted contemptuously and, completely ignoring the robber, reached for the delicious green raspberry tree, from the high thickets of which this miracle in bast shoes had just emerged.

The criminal element was noticeably embarrassed. The tip fluttered like a puppy dog's tail. Alas, repentance and repentance were still far away - the lost sheep persisted in the sin of love of money:

- Come on, quickly get off your horse, you tongue-tied girl! Trick or treat, be quick, do you hear?

I depicted intense work of thought:

- Okay, I convinced you. Wallet.

It smelled like ozone.

The robber's face twitched, his pupils dilated, his eyes glazed over, and he, slowly lowering the crossbow, untied and unquestioningly handed me a skinny bag hanging from his belt.

The bag reeked of cats and smoke. Loosening the rope that held the neck together, I let a few small coins slip through my fingers.

- Not enough, my dear, not enough. You work lazily, without a spark. However, so be it, I’ll take it as an advance,” I made the robber happy, throwing an empty bag at his feet, and warned: “I’ll go back this same way in a couple of days, so be kind, try not to disappoint me.”

The man, without taking his hypnotized gaze off me, slowly bent down, picked up the bag and froze like a pillar, unable to move without my knowledge.

As soon as the would-be robber was out of sight, I deactivated the spell and allowed Chamomile to switch from a gallop to her favorite jog. The letter, pressed between my knees while counting money, became slightly wrinkled and lost its presentation. However, I reasoned, the main thing is not the design, but the content. It also compensated for the shortcomings of the burdock leaf used in a secluded place.

Yeah, finally a couple of lines about me. For the praises of the mysterious Arr'akktur, you will miss it and not notice it.

“...during her studies at the Higher School of Sorcerers, Pythias and Herbalists, the adept Volkha showed herself...”

I know. Very bad.

“...restless, impatient, self-willed...”

Familiar song.

“...loves cruel jokes and repeatedly transfers them from pupils to teachers...”

Is he talking about the bucket, or what? Yes, there was one bucket, quite voluminous. It stood on a beam above the door of my room. A kind of homemade trap for neighbors in the School dormitory, so that it would be discouraging to borrow my notes and pots of borscht cooked for the week without asking. Maybe the Teacher wouldn’t have been so angry if the bucket had overturned instead of falling on his head upright, along with the water?

“...distinguished by rare abilities for practical and theoretical magic, highly developed intuition, quickly adapts to non-standard situations...”

Ha, maybe I'm not hopeless yet?

“...I recommend using her talent to solve the problem you mentioned. Yes, still. The subsequent pages are written in a sympathetic composition in order to protect their contents from the immoderate curiosity of the aforementioned adept, who by now has probably already become familiar with the contents of the previous pages. The components included in the composition are known to you and will not be difficult for you...”

No, it's hopeless. Only the grave will fix me.

Materials and methods

Chapter 1

Some kind of indecent border at Dogeva. Elves have tall grasses. Dwarves have rocks. The Vadlaks have piles of earth thrown to the surface. Dryads have oak trees that sweep the clouds. The Druids have stone circles. People have peeling walls, channels with musty water, separated by a couple of drawbridges, and bald guards with them, vigilantly dozing, leaning on rusty halberds.

And here are aspen trees. Some kind of mockery, especially considering that the inhabitants of Dogeva are vampires. Such nice aspen trees, silvery and trembling. Behind the aspen trees, a peaked spruce carpet tickles the sky, among which here and there hunted birch and pine trees can be seen, while Dogeva herself lies in the valley, like a bun at the bottom of a painted bowl. If you look from the hill - the edge of the bowl, you can see a white rim of aspens; the second is thicker, darker - made of spruce trees, and in the center there is a wide green bottom with specks: Dogeva itself in a ring of cultivated fields and clouds of fog.

“You will come close to the trees,” the Teacher instructed me, “and send a mental signal deep into the forest.” Any. You can think about anything, just to form a powerful telepathic wave.

– Who should I send it to?

– On a common frequency. One of the Border Guards will hear.

I coughed embarrassedly.

- It would be better for him not to hear this...

– You don’t have to think through the next dirty trick. I know, I know, you are overly fond of them, but this time try to refrain from them. What am I talking about? Oh yes, about the wave. Vampires are very susceptible to telepathy and will immediately react to its presence, although they will not be able to thoroughly decipher it. So focus on quantity, not quality.

- Like this? “I look at the smoking bathhouse, wrinkling my forehead with zeal, and five or six adepts immediately react to my wave, who, covered in steam, run out of the doors and jump out of the windows, attacked by suddenly animated brooms. The hands of future colleagues are busy with gangs hiding their most secret things from brooms. The teacher pacifies the brooms with one movement of his eyebrows, but the looks addressed to the joker by his unwashed colleagues do not bode well.

– I said “think”, not broadcast spells. It’s a pity that during the years spent within these walls, you never learned to think.

Well, I think so. I’m standing under the aspen tree, my forehead wrinkled, and Chamomile is already chewing something, green saliva oozing from the black corners of her velvety lips, separated by the rings of the bit. To telepathize means to consciously share thoughts with someone else. I'm sharing the last one. There is a cool air coming from the forest; an oriole sitting on a branch shakes its tail in surprise in response to my mental efforts.

Either the task turned out to be too tough for me, or the stunned Border Guards were caught on the spot, struck down by my powerful thoughts. My efforts were crowned with success in about forty minutes, and during this time I managed to change my mind more than in the previous eighteen years.

And here is the result. Yep, it worked. Or did he pass by by chance?

I saw a vampire for the first time. Perhaps if he had appeared out of nowhere, been as pale as death, and unequivocally bared his bloody teeth, I would have been afraid of him, as, in fact, I had planned. My knowledge in the field of vampire science was based on human legends and traditions, which were distinguished by a rare pessimism. In addition, all engravings, paintings, tapestries, rock paintings depict vampires exclusively at night and in the dark. Wings, teeth, claws - all this seems so scary and huge only because you can’t really see anything.

Daylight dispelled the aura of horror to smithereens. In the sunlight, against the backdrop of endless fields and tall trees, the vampire seemed outrageously small and harmless to me. True, I haven’t rushed yet. But I had to - they gallantly offered me a hand, which, however, I did not risk using.

The vampire smiled, showing long fangs. Anyone would have smiled when they saw how I slid down the steep Romashkin side. Throwing the reins over the horse's head, I stared expectantly at the vampire. The Border Guard turned out to be half a head taller than me, broad in the shoulders and quite handsome. Long dark hair framed a narrow tanned face, the wings folded behind his back gave the vampire some resemblance to Moroi, the demon - the messenger of death, whose ten-foot statue adorned the assembly hall of the High School. The black, piercing, slightly slanted eyes of the vampire studied my unattractive appearance, but were unable to guess what was hidden behind it.

– Who are you and what do you need in Dogev? – the vampire said impressively, gutturally and moderately menacingly.

- I? “I was telepathing so intently that I forgot my prepared answer.”

- Well, not me! – the vampire deigned to joke.

It was like a devil pulled my tongue:

“Oh, I’m just a young, beautiful and innocent maiden, wandering alone and sadly in the dark forest, awaiting my terrible fate,” I blurted out, taking into account the tastes attributed to vampires and honestly trying not to laugh in the Guardian’s face. Needless to say, the answer stencil had nothing to do with my impromptu response.

The vampire was dumbfounded and more than I myself looked like a girl offended by fate.

- What? – he asked in surprise.

I repeated obediently.

A shadow of understanding crossed the Guardian's face.

“You are Volkha Rednaya, an adept of the Starmin School of Sorcerers,” he said slowly and seriously. - Right?

It was my turn to be amazed:

- Where are you from…

- Follow me. – The vampire turned and disappeared into the aspen undergrowth of the edge.

- And the horse?

“Lead the way,” came the calm answer. “The road is only ten steps away, and the detour is at least half a mile.”

To put it mildly, Chamomile was not happy about the prospect of climbing into the bushes. I hung by the reins. There is no effect. The horse danced on the spot, occasionally rearing up and trying to turn around. The tall, dense aspen forest, from her point of view, was a completely unsuitable place for self-respecting horses to walk. I was already thinking about creating a mirage of the road, but during the struggle we pretty much crushed the flexible branches, and the horse saw the real road in the depths of the forest. Having snorted for the sake of decency, Romashka calmed down, and I resolutely pulled her along with me. The thought of whether the Doge's tents were suitable for people had never occurred to me before. With an effort of will, I drove her away now. Well, vampires and vampires. Don't be ghouls. Tea, intelligent race. Let's agree.

The vampire waited patiently, leaning against the aspen trunk, like a visual illustration for the tome “Human Superstitions and Their Causes.” Chamomile reacted to him accordingly, that is, in no way, although she was supposed to snore, beat with her hoof and squint with a bloodshot eye. However, my horse is extremely phlegmatic.

Having made sure that the whole company was assembled, the vampire, with obvious regret, looked away from his favorite tree and led us into the depths of the forest. Now I looked at his back: the wings, released through the slits in the clothes, resembled a black cloak, worn together with a hanger - it was with it that I associated the thin bones that prevented the leathery wings of the bat from falling off.

The gloomy but majestic forest, covered with a carpet of spruce litter, was no different from dozens and hundreds of other forests through which I drove, walked and even crawled on all fours in search of berries. In the crowns of the spruce trees, little kings twittered subtly, and along the edges of the barely noticeable path, soft light green sorrel curled luxuriantly.

The vampire was silent. I thought. This time - exclusively for myself.

Just a week ago I could not even imagine that I would ever find myself in Dogev, and on business at that. Before I graduated from the School, I had a year and a half supply of ungnawed granite of science left, although in some subjects I was significantly ahead not only of fellow adepts, but also of my mentors. Even the Teacher, to be honest, cannot always understand the abstractions I have created. The teacher has been teaching practical magic since the second year. He is demanding, grumpy and capricious, like an old maid. It is extremely difficult to please him. And besides, I hate to please. At one time I was seriously thinking about whether I should give up all this crap and transfer to the faculty of Witchcraft or Herbalists? But I got used to it, got used to it, lost half of the roughness and began to pay no more attention to the Teacher than to a blackberry lash, which pricks and clings to clothes, but nevertheless brings some benefit. “Practical magic is not for girls,” male adepts used to say, envying my abilities. They turned out to be right. I'm the only girl in the whole class. The remaining five or six dropped out after the first semester. Of course, it’s more appropriate for a girl to tinker with the sick, give birth or heal wounds - in short, heal or hide mistakes underground. The master of practical magic was awaited by tracts with ghouls, grumpy dragons, shy basilisks and an improvement in the favorable environment in general. Perhaps I have too little compassion to bother with the sick. Ghouls don’t seem to need my compassion.

Eight years ago, when I timidly touched the bronze plaque on the gate of the School with a mallet, no one believed that I would even become a Herbalist. I was a wild ten-year-old with just the right amount of pimples mixed with freckles. And a lot of talents hidden so deeply that they were not revealed during the interview. They didn't really try. The school preferred to enroll urban children from wealthy families, more or less educated, well-mannered and ready to support the School financially if necessary. At the interview, they tried to explain to me for a long time how the left hand differs from the right, which I had to put on a piece of paper and imagine how it was charred under the phalanges of the fingers. I also didn’t know what “phalanxes” were. In general, the School stood and intended to continue to stand without my participation.

I remember I was sitting on the ground by the gate and half swallowing, half smearing large angry tears across my face, which rolled out of my eyes against my will. Luckily for me (or misfortune?), the teacher was not on the admissions committee; he was just returning from a long diplomatic trip, and I was sitting on his way.

“Is it proper for a magician to cry?” - he asked sternly, looming over me like a bearded rock with a staff.

I wiped my nose noisily.

- And I’m not a magician! And I can cry wherever I want!

- Look! – the Teacher was surprised, sitting down on the edge of a stone tub with flowers. – Do you know that when little girls cry so bitterly, the weather turns bad? Oh, look, you'll bring rain on my gray head.

- I won’t call.

- And why is that?

- Because you are a sorcerer and no one can control you.

The teacher either laughed or coughed into his beard.

– That’s why you wanted to become a magician, right? And by whom? Herbalist or Pythia?

- No! A real magician! To do terrible magic and for everyone to be afraid of me!

- A necromancer, or what? – the Teacher grinned.

- Not except... what?

“Well, an evil witch,” the magician explained.

– Are there no good witches? – after thinking, I asked.

- Why, there are. They are called practicing magicians or warrior magicians.

- Whoa. It suits me.

– Aren’t you afraid of ghouls?

- Nope. I'm only afraid of cockroaches. And a few rats,” I admitted with a sigh.

- Here you go. And the magician should not be afraid of anything.

“And you’re not afraid of anything at all?”

The teacher became thoughtful and scratched the top of his head.

– You see, a magician still has to be afraid of someone. Myself. Magic is not farcical tricks with balls and cards, it can be dark and light, good and evil, destructive and creative, and what it will become in your hands depends only on you, and this is a huge responsibility. Look,” the magician said, turning his hand palm up, and a clot of blue flame materialized above it. – It’s a beautiful ball, isn’t it? And so harmless in appearance. Look how calmly he lies in my palms. Do you think he will remain as flexible in the wrong hands?

I didn't like answering provocative questions and without hesitation I grabbed the ball with both hands.

- Wow, he’s completely cold! – I screamed enthusiastically, forgetting about my tears. - And it moves!

The teacher did not answer immediately. With difficulty tightening his slack jaw, he asked me in a weak voice to “throw the bullshit away” to hell. I was surprised, but I obeyed. It flashed and rumbled, and when the smoke cleared, we saw the roof of a distant barn. She hung in the air for some time, then collapsed noisily into the ashes.

– What is this?! Your stupid experiments again, Xander? – thundered behind me. Turning around, I saw a short, well-fed and big-eyed magician of indeterminate age, with a hooked nose and a brush of red mustache.

“Ah, Pitrim,” the Teacher said casually, without turning around. - How did you overlook such a pearl? An amazing gift for energy management, telekinetic abilities - a born Practitioner. I take her to my group.

Pitrim is the director and head teacher rolled into one. He teaches necromancy, but only insofar as he has a Master's degree in elemental magic. Pitrim's name is long and intricate, like a curled up viper. He named it during the introductory lesson, but so quickly and illegibly that no one even had time to write it down. The adepts respectfully called him "the venerable Master Pitrim." The mentors made do without the “venerable one.” And the Teacher - even without a “Master”.

For his eyes, Pitrim was honored as a “necrogrunt.” Moreover, both adherents and mentors.

Pitrim looked at me with a contemptuous look.

“There’s no room,” he muttered. “We already have seven extra applicants, and it’s all thanks to you.” You pick them up from the street like stray kittens, and then a stupid hassle starts with expulsion, giving rise to dropouts who are dangerous to society.

“Profession: Witch” by Olga Gromyko– a tetralogy consisting of the books: “Profession: Witch”, “Guardian Witch”, “Supreme Witch”, “Witch Tales”. Classics of the genre.

Plot: Volkha Rednaya, a young adept of the School of Mages, Pythias and Herbalists, will have to undergo practical training in her specialty. And not just anywhere, but in Dogeva, which is the habitat of vampires, about whom the most unpleasant rumors circulate among the people.

The young witch will have to find out personally how true the existing information about the nature of the inhabitants of the mysterious valley is, and soon she will have to fight an ominous monster and flirt with another monster, the ruler of Dogeva - the vampire Len.

Positive feedback: When it comes to humorous fantasy, Andrei Belyanin is most often mentioned among male authors, and Olga Gromyko among female authors. Her book series "Profession: witch" and the first thing that comes to my mind, as soon as I hear the treasured phrase.

On the reasons for such popularity light, entertaining literature, intended specifically for the amusement of readers, and not, say, their enlightenment, I will not dwell. They couldn’t be clearer: from time to time we all want to take a break from life’s troubles, relax with an exciting novel in our hands.

Olga Gromyko’s books, written in a simple but not primitive language, with a simple but fascinating plot, capable of boasting sparkling but not vulgar humor, brilliantly manage to distract you from your own problems and captivate you into the world of magic and love!

Now about the plot: the first part of the work - "Profession: witch"– talks about the trip of the Starmin School of Mages, Pythias and Herbalists to the domain of vampires. Second book - "Guardian Witch"- tells about final exams, saving no less than all of Beloria from the danger that threatens it and finding personal happiness. Third part of the series – "High Witch"- once again captivates with the exciting adventures of a practicing witch and ends, as it should be, with romance novels and a wedding.

"Witch Tales" in essence, a collection of individual stories about a beloved heroine, combined with the general narrative line only by a plot convoy: first Volkha, as expected, gets into trouble, then successfully overcomes all the obstacles that arise along the way and ultimately solves the problems that have arisen to everyone’s satisfaction.

Naturally, the main character of the book can handle anything.

Note: After the phenomenal success of the author’s series, the image of a red-haired witch with a malicious character began to wander from one work in the humorous fantasy genre to another and managed to turn into a real hackneyed cliche.

But, fortunately, in front of you original source and the ancestor of all fan fiction, parodies and novels with a similar plot, distinguished by the quality of writing and the unique author's style.

Recommendations: in this case, my recommendations are not particularly needed, because you have probably already read Gromyko’s series, or started reading, or heard about it. I can only say that at one time I read stories about the adventures of a harmful witch and found them hilariously funny and interesting.

Similar works: a fascinating tetralogy about the witch Vika comes from the pen Pervukhina Nadezhda and got the name "A Name for a Witch". In this story, events take place with our contemporary woman, who discovered witch power in herself and revealed her potential thanks to an ancient ritual.

There is less humor in this fantasy, but there is a detective touch, a certain thrill and an excellent love line!

The journey on a spaceship of an entertaining motley group is described, humor is fully present.

STARMIN SCHOOL OF SORCERERS, PYTHIA AND HERBALISTS
FACULTY OF THEORETICAL AND PRACTICAL MAGIC
DEPARTMENT OF MAGIC PRACTITIONERS

Part one
Social structure, life and customs of the vampire community

Vic. - And what? Do you have something against vampires?

R. Asprin. "M.I.F. Corporation"

Course work
8th year adepts Volkha Rednaya
Scientific adviser:

Master 1st degree archmage Ksan Perlov

999 according to the Belorsky chronology,

Starmin city

Introduction

Today turned out to be a good day. Warm. Windless.

-What are you doing, my dear? Come on, move your hooves!

The rogue filly snored in disappointment.

- Come on, come on, hack.

So, I started reading.

“Dear Lord of Dogeva, noble Arr’akktur tor Ordvist Sh’eonell of the clan...”

The criminal element was noticeably embarrassed. The tip fluttered like a puppy dog's tail. Alas, repentance and repentance were still far away - the lost sheep persisted in the sin of love of money:

- Come on, quickly get off your horse, you tongue-tied girl! Trick or treat, be quick, do you hear?

I depicted intense work of thought:

- Okay, I convinced you. Wallet.

It smelled like ozone.

The robber's face twitched, his pupils dilated, his eyes glazed over, and he, slowly lowering the crossbow, untied and unquestioningly handed me a skinny bag hanging from his belt.

The bag reeked of cats and smoke. Loosening the rope that held the neck together, I let a few small coins slip through my fingers.

The man, without taking his hypnotized gaze off me, slowly bent down, picked up the bag and froze like a pillar, unable to move without my knowledge.

Yeah, finally a couple of lines about me. For the praises of the mysterious Arr'akktur, you will miss it and not notice it.

“...during her studies at the Higher School of Sorcerers, Pythias and Herbalists, the adept Volkha showed herself...”

I know. Very bad.

“...restless, impatient, self-willed...”

Familiar song.

“...loves cruel jokes and repeatedly transfers them from pupils to teachers...”

“...distinguished by rare abilities for practical and theoretical magic, highly developed intuition, quickly adapts to non-standard situations...”

Ha, maybe I'm not hopeless yet?

“...I recommend using her talent to solve the problem you mentioned. Yes, still. The subsequent pages are written in a sympathetic composition in order to protect their contents from the immoderate curiosity of the aforementioned adept, who by now has probably already become familiar with the contents of the previous pages. The components included in the composition are known to you and will not be difficult for you...”

No, it's hopeless. Only the grave will fix me.

Materials and methods

Chapter 1

“You will come close to the trees,” the Teacher instructed me, “and send a mental signal deep into the forest.” Any. You can think about anything, just to form a powerful telepathic wave.

– Who should I send it to?

– On a common frequency. One of the Border Guards will hear.

I coughed embarrassedly.

- It would be better for him not to hear this...

– I said “think”, not broadcast spells. It’s a pity that during the years spent within these walls, you never learned to think.

And here is the result. Yep, it worked. Or did he pass by by chance?

– Who are you and what do you need in Dogev? – the vampire said impressively, gutturally and moderately menacingly.

- I? “I was telepathing so intently that I forgot my prepared answer.”

- Well, not me! – the vampire deigned to joke.

It was like a devil pulled my tongue:

The vampire was dumbfounded and more than I myself looked like a girl offended by fate.

- What? – he asked in surprise.

I repeated obediently.

A shadow of understanding crossed the Guardian's face.

“You are Volkha Rednaya, an adept of the Starmin School of Sorcerers,” he said slowly and seriously. - Right?

It was my turn to be amazed:

- Where are you from…

- Follow me. – The vampire turned and disappeared into the aspen undergrowth of the edge.

- And the horse?

“Lead the way,” came the calm answer. “The road is only ten steps away, and the detour is at least half a mile.”

The vampire was silent. I thought. This time - exclusively for myself.

“Is it proper for a magician to cry?” - he asked sternly, looming over me like a bearded rock with a staff.

I wiped my nose noisily.

- And I’m not a magician! And I can cry wherever I want!

- I won’t call.

- And why is that?

- Because you are a sorcerer and no one can control you.

The teacher either laughed or coughed into his beard.

– That’s why you wanted to become a magician, right? And by whom? Herbalist or Pythia?

- No! A real magician! To do terrible magic and for everyone to be afraid of me!

- A necromancer, or what? – the Teacher grinned.

- Not except... what?

“Well, an evil witch,” the magician explained.

– Are there no good witches? – after thinking, I asked.

- Why, there are. They are called practicing magicians or warrior magicians.

- Whoa. It suits me.

– Aren’t you afraid of ghouls?

- Nope. I'm only afraid of cockroaches. And a few rats,” I admitted with a sigh.

- Here you go. And the magician should not be afraid of anything.

“And you’re not afraid of anything at all?”

The teacher became thoughtful and scratched the top of his head.

I didn't like answering provocative questions and without hesitation I grabbed the ball with both hands.

- Wow, he’s completely cold! – I screamed enthusiastically, forgetting about my tears. - And it moves!

For his eyes, Pitrim was honored as a “necrogrunt.” Moreover, both adherents and mentors.

Pitrim looked at me with a contemptuous look.

For a second, the air between the magicians thickened and darkened. Just for a second.

“Let’s go, girl,” said the Teacher, without lowering his eyes. - You're accepted. From this moment on, you are an adept of the School of Sorcerers, Pythias and Herbalists.

* * *

There had long been rumors around the School that something was wrong in Dogev, but no one knew what exactly. Everyone was just guessing, and with such a thoughtful look, as if diplomas with the titles of Pythias of the 1st degree were already in their pockets. All negotiations with Dogeva were conducted by the Teacher. Master Pitrim did not interfere in this, but developed vigorous activity “to control the situation,” that is, he held two or three meetings a day, after which the teacher, driven to white heat, began a lecture on practical magic with an assault survey, mercilessly sending young boats to the bottom reason, deprived of the ballast of knowledge. The air was seething with magic. Messages from Dogeva were transmitted telepathically, along a chain of magicians settled in the cities. And that’s true - where can you find a messenger who will agree to become a messenger for vampires? There is not a single human settlement within a ten mile radius of Dogeva. Afraid. Still would. Vampires! Bloodsuckers! Fear and horror! Lock the doors, eat garlic.

At the “Intelligent Races” lecture courses, vampires were placed between elves and gnomes, in the “Allies” section. “Races,” unfortunately, were taught by Pitrim, he taught tediously, intricately and from his own point of view. He didn’t like elves, was afraid of gnomes, said two unprintable words about trolls, and glorified vampires so much that it was time to sharpen stakes and go to war against them. Because of this bias of his, we didn’t really know anything about vampires, and in the exam it was enough to blurt out some obscenity about them, and an A was guaranteed. The vast majority of masters and adepts adhered to the Pithrim point of view. While goblin, mermaids and even goblins still had defenders, no one dared to praise vampires.

And the situation was heating up. The mentors walked around as if dumbfounded, classes were disrupted. The adherents took advantage of the confusion and did whatever they wanted. At a lecture on herbalism, a dead mouse mysteriously fell into a vat of potion and did not come back to life, but the smell of the elixir caused two adepts to faint, and the rest had such headaches that the classes were canceled “until the foreign element has completely evaporated.” In the dark corridors of the basement floor, a skeleton appeared, it rattled bones and beat retorts with valuable ingredients, such as concentrated dragon blood, bile of virgins (a huge shortage due to an even greater shortage of suppliers), mercury fulminate and aqua regia. To search for and eliminate the skeleton, a special commission had to be appointed, headed by graduate student Almit, as a result of which the unfinished retorts were finished off, and the skeleton turned out to be a visual aid from an anatomy cabinet, into the empty skull of which someone’s playful hand had infused the spirit of a suicidal alchemist.

But all this is beside the point. Real passions broke out when one of the teachers disappeared. Before the weekend on the occasion of the Water Festival, he, as always, gave us a bunch of spells and exercises for practicing passes, read out the marks on the test in an indisputable tone, said goodbye and we didn’t see him again. Vazhek, an adept, watched as he saddled a brown horse in the shade of the barn, attached a traveling bag to the saddle and galloped off along the road to Bogor. And he didn't return. Bogor lay on the same line as Dogeva. The school was overwhelmed by a new wave of rumors, even more vague and uncertain. Garlic prices have skyrocketed. Swords and chain mail have also become more expensive. Starmin was overrun by strange types, gloomy and covered in greasy hair. They occupied inns and taverns, forming gangs that resembled packs of rats.

“We just didn’t have enough mercenaries,” grumbled Almit, Master of the 4th degree, who temporarily replaced Pitrim, taught practical classes on “Intelligent Races” and was currently trying to distribute the topics of coursework among us. “They came down like crows on carrion.” How to avoid becoming carrion ourselves. One war is not enough for them, the bastards.

Almit was referring to the war with vampires that ended seventy years ago with the signing of a peace treaty.

“The agreement is still in force,” Vazhek noted.

“That’s why we now have the displeasure of seeing hired killers right under the windows of the School.” Officially, the king cannot speak out against vampires, since the agreement was signed by all intelligent races, including the most numerous, that is, elves, trolls and gnomes - the latter, by the way, took over the entire metallurgy and weapons industry, so there is no point in quarreling with them do not do it. They will immediately rally against the aggressor and thoroughly kick him... hmm... in general, they will give a worthy rebuff. But mercenaries are a completely different matter. They are, as it were, outside the law, free hunters. As they say, you can’t keep track of all your subjects. Officially, the king will anathema them, but unofficially... what income do you think that shaggy guy with a beard is using to flirt with... hmm... a free-spirited girl?

Almit moved away from the window, setting an example for the adepts who were clinging to the glass in the hope of seeing the mentioned girl.

– So, we settled on you, Volkha. There are five topics left: “Life and customs of gnomes”, “Metaphysical views of ghosts”, “Comparative analysis of the psychology of brownies and stable hands”, “The role of mermaids in the ecology of fresh water bodies” and... Oh, no, Pitrim crossed it out again. So, there are only four topics. Why are you grimacing?

As usual, I received complete nonsense. Ghosts are bores and moralists; after five minutes of communicating with them, you begin to feel sleepy. Floundering around in a pond with mermaids is also fraught - leeches, runny nose and mosquitoes come with the environment. Dwarves are secretive and suspicious creatures; you can’t tear out coursework material from them with your teeth. And the psychology of brownies and stable boys can be expressed in two words: “petty dirty tricks.”

- Well, just think about it for now, and I’ll explain what’s what. The coursework must be completed by the first heather, that is, in exactly three months. It should include a review of literature from the last two centuries - preferably of the race you have chosen to study. But don't limit yourself to just books! I know you - you sit in the library for a day, copy a couple of more dusty tomes, and think that you got off easy. No, my dears, nothing will come of it without direct contact with foreigners. During the oral examination, I will quickly split you. Yes, I specifically appeal to those who chose trolls: do not quote them, for God’s sake. Retell it in your own words. Well, Volkha, did you make up your mind?

A laboratory assistant from the Department of Herbal Science looked into the office, nodded to Almit, cleared his throat and in an official tone invited me to the director’s office.

Perhaps it is worth describing it in more detail. Adepts are curious people; just point them to the forbidden fruit, turn away for a minute, and all that remains of the fruit is a lonely stub. To be honest, I also hung around the office like a fox around a chicken coop. It was sealed with magic as hermetically as a chicken egg with a shell. What did the adherents do? They hammered the shells with master keys, spells, levitated under the windows, sent trained cockroaches on reconnaissance, but all to no avail. Legends were created about the office. They say that there is the legendary Mirror of Revelations, and a portal to infinity, and a scroll with a spell for the end of the world, and a prophesying skull with a philosopher’s stone in its teeth, in general, all the miracles and mysteries of the past, future and present.

And here I am in the holy of holies of Pitrim. And what? And I'm disappointed to the core.

The game wasn't worth the candle. The furnishings of the office consisted of a sofa, two armchairs, a table and a chair, and also a little official luxury in the form of two paintings and a lush carpet.

The Teacher sat on a chair, tired and as if even aged. In his hands he held a sealed (former!) scroll.

- Sit down.

- Thank you, I'll stand.

If there was only one Teacher, I would sit down. But behind him, Master Pitrim’s eyes sparkled angrily, sitting next to him meant signing his own death warrant. Those who did not hide their contempt for the adepts, much less encouraged familiarity between them and their mentors.

“You’re going to Dogeva,” Pitrim said bluntly, moving to the fore.

- Where? - I burst out.

“To Dogeva,” the Teacher patiently repeated, forestalling his colleague’s angry outburst.

- Now. From this office you will go straight out into the courtyard, pick up the mare that is yours from the stable, receive rations and money from the storekeeper, and leave the School without talking to anyone.

- And my jacket? – I asked stupidly. The jacket was lying on the bed in my room, I was just about to sew on the torn pocket.

The teacher snapped his fingers, and a jacket, warm and sewn, fell on me. Such masterly teleportation amazed me on the spot. Clutching my jacket to my chest, I silently awaited further instructions.

– Give this scroll to the Lord of Dogeva, Arr’akktur tor Ord... ugh, someday I’ll definitely break my tongue. Personally. Don't show it to anyone. Don't bother me. Don't even tell the other vampires about him.

My hands trembled treacherously. The scroll tumbled in the air, fell to the floor and rolled under the cabinet. I hastily plopped down on my knees. As luck would have it, the cleaners avoided the director's closet, and the damned scroll was tightly wrapped in shreds of centuries-old dust. I hastily blew on him, but it turned out even worse - all the dust rushed into my nose and eyes, a deafening sneeze mixed with the sound of a vase falling from above. Somehow stuffing the dirty scroll into my bosom, I rose from my knees and immediately regretted it - both Masters looked at me more piercingly than basilisks. The left basilisk exuded mortal coldness, the right one exuded even more offensive reproach. Glancing guiltily at the fragments scattered near the closet, I feigned sincere repentance and concentrated attention, that is, I made an extremely idiotic grimace. The teacher, sighing, was content with what he had and began to talk in detail about the road to Dogeva, about energy points, about the most common creatures in this area, but I listened with half an ear. None of this mattered. Without instructions, the tongue will lead you to Dogeva. What's there in Dogev?

Olga Gromyko

Profession: witch

STARMIN SCHOOL OF SORCERERS, PYTHIA AND HERBALISTS

FACULTY OF THEORETICAL AND PRACTICAL MAGIC

DEPARTMENT OF MAGIC PRACTITIONERS

Part one

Social structure, life and customs of the vampire community

Vic. - And what? Do you have something against vampires?

R. Asprin. "M.I.F. Corporation"

Introduction

Today turned out to be a good day. Warm. Windless.

-What are you doing, my dear? Come on, move your hooves!

The rogue filly snored in disappointment.

- Come on, come on, hack.

So, I started reading.

“Dear Lord of Dogeva, noble Arr’akktur tor Ordvist Sh’eonell of the clan...”

The criminal element was noticeably embarrassed. The tip fluttered like a puppy dog's tail. Alas, repentance and repentance were still far away - the lost sheep persisted in the sin of love of money:

- Come on, quickly get off your horse, you tongue-tied girl! Trick or treat, be quick, do you hear?

I depicted intense work of thought:

- Okay, I convinced you. Wallet.

It smelled like ozone.

The robber's face twitched, his pupils dilated, his eyes glazed over, and he, slowly lowering the crossbow, untied and unquestioningly handed me a skinny bag hanging from his belt.

The bag reeked of cats and smoke. Loosening the rope that held the neck together, I let a few small coins slip through my fingers.

The man, without taking his hypnotized gaze off me, slowly bent down, picked up the bag and froze like a pillar, unable to move without my knowledge.

Yeah, finally a couple of lines about me. For the praises of the mysterious Arr'akktur, you will miss it and not notice it.

“...during her studies at the Higher School of Sorcerers, Pythias and Herbalists, the adept Volkha showed herself...”

I know. Very bad.

“...restless, impatient, self-willed...”

Familiar song.

“...loves cruel jokes and repeatedly transfers them from pupils to teachers...”

I've always been sincerely interested in the question of why the label "humorous fantasy" is usually published as fantasy, the best description for which is "dumb." I'm not talking about a specific novel so much as in general. I re-read countless mountains of this “stupid fantasy” suggested by friends. Moreover, humor, which would make even Petrosyan writhe, is by no means characteristic only of the, um, domestic literary tradition.

There are only two options: either the world and I strongly disagree in our understanding of what is funny, or the people who branded this a humorous fantasy have never read Pratchett. Because the jokes found in all these books never, I repeat, never rise above the level of “and your whole back is white.” It’s more the incorrect punctuation that makes me smile, because such literature is usually not edited very carefully.

The closest analogue to “The Witch” in terms of the quality of humor from what I’ve read lately is the notorious Tanya Grotter. But if Yemets is distinguished by his general delirium, Gromyko is such a muslin young lady, and her jokes are just as muslin. Very decent. And very boring.

And the novel also features a blond *vomit smiley*, broad-shouldered and muscular *vomit smiley* Lord of the Vampires *vomit smiley*, who, among other things, has incredible fighting qualities, has telepathy, is the best archer and weaves macrome *vomit smiley *. And of course, he immediately begins to give advances to the main character, who, as noted at the beginning, does not shine with either beauty or intelligence. “Even if you are a little over 30,” he sings, “there is hope of marrying a prince.”

There is one successful joke in the book - this is the wonderful word “ghyr”, in troll language used for a general curse, a euphemism for ours, I won’t say what. But, again, this is still not the same level. So I once came across the wonderful word “gukhro”, which is also quite suitable for similar purposes. Moreover, it’s even funnier that it was seen in judicial practice in the version “GU HRO FSS”, what is it - but try to guess for yourself

Seriously though, it's actually quite readable. It is especially recommended to read in case of severe brain damage, because the brain is not required to comprehend what is read - the bone brain is quite enough. But since I still have a sore throat, and not a headache, I somehow really lacked the intellectual component in the text. And, really, when Kamsha described the pranks of Count Medusa in volume 1, it was much, much funnier than this whole book taken together.

Rating: 1

I, like some of those who responded, remembered Pratchett, a series of novels about the young witch Tiffany Aching. I kept trying to answer the question: what is the difference between them? Why do Pratchett's books seem better to me than Gromyko's books? They say (write) that the Englishman is intellectual, but Gromyko is not. I don't understand this at all. Anyone who wants intellectual prose should read a physics textbook. Or, there, scientific articles.

In my opinion, the difference is in the usefulness and quality of the fiction. The flat world is really a world in which the Sheep are the Sheep, and the Chalk Hills are the Chalk Hills, with their own weather-nature and ethnographic features. What can you say about the world of Volkha? What can you say about Starmin? These are all some conventional fantasy places. There is a tavern, there is a magical university. Everything is in accordance with GOST, no pictorial details are reported. The vampire kingdom looks like a computer game playground: a round valley, bordered by a forest; two roads, intersecting at right angles, divide Dogeva into four sectors - livestock farming here, field farming here, pastures there, forest land there. And in the center there is a house of councils and a magic fountain. Even the idea of a “crumpled” space doesn’t help matters.

If we accept the latter option, then the book is perfection in its own way. The heroine does not shine with beauty, but she is charming and gifted with superpowers beyond measure. An ideal object of identification for an ugly and intelligent school-age reader (and whoever is handsome at this age does not read books). A hero is, on the contrary, a collection of all conceivable and inconceivable perfections. But there is one BUT: a terrible secret and a subtle mental organization. Because of this organization, the hero is terribly lonely, and only an intelligent, sensitive and talented heroine can understand the intricacies of his soul. Their parents died, like all other relatives, so neither the heroine, nor the hero, nor the author have to waste strength and energy on unraveling the child-parent relationship. Neither to the reader. Everyone can focus on what matters most: growing up emotionally and socially. The first at this age involves romantic relationships, the second - initiation, trials, and solving Difficult Problems. I note that there are two crimes and two villains in the book, which are in no way connected with each other (it seems that no one has mentioned this in the reviews yet). This is not a compositional flaw. There is simply one Difficult Task for each person growing up: a killer creature for the heroine, a quest with a magic stone for the hero.

In general, not a book, but an unfading classic, a manual on social psychology.

Rating: 6

I recommend reading only for girls 7-12 years old, if the school and classical children's/teenage literature program has already been mastered and the girl did not have enough of it. In addition, most people have probably already read and re-read sagas about the same thing, so a parody can come in very handy. True, judging by the reviews, few people perceived this as a parody, otherwise words and phrases like “romantic”, “love line”, “beautiful world created by the author”, “heroic fantasy”, “student realities” and etc. and so on.

The language of the narrative is simple, although the minimal style seems to be consistent. The plot is simple. It’s ok for a children’s fairy tale, but it’s not catchy, because an adult involuntarily has boring questions when reading it (like, what even happened???). (By the way, for the sake of fairness, I note that when reading high-quality children's humorous literature, such questions do not arise for me). As soon as we talk about the functioning of the magical and mystical, you want to skim through boring paragraphs, or even pages, because who is interested in reading truisms and absurd discoveries like the fact that vampires, it turns out, do not react to garlic (wow! on the other hand , even if they reacted, the effect of such “news” would also be doubtful).

The humor is very crude, sometimes cheap and below the belt (for example, in the style of an anime dance shot or Disney monkey jokes such as funny falls, kicks in one place, etc.). In general, the kids might giggle, but the adults probably won't. The character of the main character is consistent with the image of a temperamental klutz and, in principle, looks solid. Except that I don’t quite understand why and to whom a stubborn and childish heroine-fool can be attractive, who at eighteen behaves with the spontaneity characteristic of a six-to-nine-year-old (burps, at the table spits food she doesn’t like into a napkin and splashes it next to her). sitting, squats down to feel the vampire’s cloak and looks under it, sincerely happy that the boiled egg turned out to be “snot-free”). The heroine’s inner world is wretched (at least her extensive internal monologue about thoughts that are stuck like pickles in a jar is worth it). The author tries to somehow soften this with her ironic attitude towards herself (i.e. she herself supposedly understands that her intelligence is 7 years old), but this rather suggests some kind of pathology, rather than a sharp critical mind. And this is not to mention the most primitive, often unreasonably dismissive and derogatory judgments about the surrounding reality and heroes, who for some reason completely ignore its idiocy, taking it seriously. Well, and the stupid dialogues, which seem to be about nothing, I can’t help but remember, especially when the heroine suddenly starts to look like a complete idiot in order to outsmart everyone, and everyone (even some elders), of course, falls for it and even.. .they are timid!

In general, from a logical point of view, it is a complete departure from common sense. But the thin plot is diluted with lovely descriptions of nature, the habits of all kinds of living creatures and evil spirits. Even for a fairy tale, all this is too superficial, there is not enough drama, pathetic heroism and sublime romanticism, but not everyone needs this, of course.

The picture of what is happening, however, when read, develops clearly (a kind of rollicking tale about the cheerful adventures of the “Vovka” in the distant kingdom in the female version), but the fact is that the folk flavor that could still give this creation some piquancy is completely absent. In this regard, what confused me was the absence of a “children’s” mark anywhere in the author’s biography, annotations to the novel and reviews, as well as the high score of the work with a large number of ratings, although in essence all this reminded me of a mixture of Dontsova and Stephenie Meyer, no more. Perhaps this prompted me to write a review, because the truth should always be at least nearby, if not at the epicenter :) The only thing that could somehow save the work would be a change in the age of the main characters from 18-20 to 9-12 years old . Then it will still be possible to at least somehow perceive it.

Rating: 2

A very worthy work, the most important thing is that there have always been, are and will be in huge numbers. I read it six years ago.

Humor? Didn't notice. Interesting world? He didn't seem like that to me. Heroes? I don't remember a single one. Plot? Not the strongest point of this book.

A good characteristic is a large number of reviews and an almost complete absence of quotes (especially funny ones), mentions of plot twists, actions of characters, new and not so new thoughts, something that can be remembered, discussed, quoted, or laughed at.

Subjectively, this is the most empty and uninteresting book I have ever read. If you haven't read it, consider yourself lucky.

Rating: 1

After a rather unpleasant experience of reading Zvezdnaya’s opus, I began to wonder: is all fantasy aimed at a female audience really the same trash as the creations of “Science Fiction Writer of the Year 2016”. The decision to read the novel “Profession: Witch” came when I saw its rating on fantlab - 8.49 points with 3,183 votes. This is impressive.

In reality, everything turned out to be less rosy. The novel has only two problems, but they are very significant.

The first problem is the plot. Technically the story is divided into two parts. At the beginning, Volkha Rednaya, an adept of the School of Magic, comes to a vampire town and investigates mysterious murders there. Then we are shown a traditional fantasy quest, in the form of a team of motley heroes going for an important artifact. And what holds these parts together is the love line between the awkward, unlikable, clumsy main character and the handsome, strong, courageous Vampire Lord. As you understand, stamp on stamp and stamp drives. In itself, this is not so bad, against the backdrop of the hopeless stupidity of Zvezdnaya’s novel, it looks more than worthy, but for a sophisticated reader, in general, there is nothing to look for here.

The second problem is the characters. Not cardboard, but they are far from living people. Mannequins of varying degrees of three-dimensionality. The main character is not very smart at times, but when the plot needs it, she is quite capable of demonstrating extraordinary intellectual abilities. A few quotes to demonstrate:

“My efforts were crowned with success in about forty minutes, and during this time I managed to change my mind more than in the previous eighteen years.”

“It’s like I’m not eighteen, but eight years old. Or is the assessment based on intelligence? Then I’m probably seven...”

Perhaps some readers attribute this to the main character’s self-irony. Perhaps, according to the author's intention, this is so. But, in fact, the main character certainly cannot boast of intelligence.

In addition to the instability of mental abilities, the main character has a rare eccentricity and stupidity. She constantly wants to create problems for herself and stir up trouble, which is what she does for most of the book.

“With these words, I threw the crystal right at his forehead. The last phrase was about memory, a more lightweight subject, and Len did not have time to catch a faceted stone the size of a good cucumber. Cuts on the face always bleed heavily, I completely forgot about it and was scared to death when the vampire, howling briefly and angrily, grabbed his face and scarlet blood ran in rivulets through his fingers. It’s hard to say which of us was worse at the moment. But if Len, in the worst case scenario, lost his eye, then I was in a pre-infarction state, imagining exactly this. To knock out the eye of the Lord of Dogeva by throwing a stolen crystal at him, even if accidentally - only I could get into such a story!”

The secondary characters do not sparkle with originality. The cool and courageous Vampire Lord “almost cries” at times, but otherwise every girl’s dream. Volkha’s teacher is very powerful and very wise, just like the Gandalf of Belarusian origin. In general, there is nothing more to say about him. Volkha’s friends are chirping female stereotypes that are not remembered at all.

I cannot call the language the problem of the novel, since Gromyko speaks the language normally. If you compare her and Zvezdnaya’s writing skills, it’s like comparing the diligent attempt at creativity of a sixteen-year-old excellent student and the enthusiastic fan fiction of a twelve-year-old girl. But I can’t call the language of the novel a plus, since it’s too pretentious and unnatural, even though it’s literate.

The world of the novel also cannot be classified as either a plus or a minus. It seems to have been worked out, but there are many gaps and ambiguities. The vampire race, which can be replaced with dark elves, raises especially many questions and nothing much will change. Or, for example, invent a new race, and not make useless associations that are not really needed. But there is a possibility that all the ambiguities of the world are resolved in subsequent volumes, which I most likely will not find out.

The last point I would like to write about is humor. Although the novel is a humorous fantasy, it is more of an ironic fantasy. In terms of irony, it’s something close to Dontsova’s detective stories.

"- Where are you going?

Then! – I kicked Len with my free leg.<…>I unclenched my hands, but Len did not. As a result, I hovered in the air for a split second and fell face down. May I rest in peace!”

Such self-ironic passages occur constantly in the novel and for me they are not funny. Although I fully admit that they found their connoisseurs, as the average rating of the work proves. Nevertheless, I still liked a couple of jokes, I’ll even give one of them here as an example:

“You are an adult, smart woman!

Neither one, nor the other, nor the third, I thought.”

In general, I will interrupt the experiment of reading women's fantasy for now. I hope that I was so unlucky and that the “cool and handsome guy falls in love with a narrow-minded and clumsy girl” template does not reign everywhere in this genre. We should visit the opposite territory and see how things are going in purely male Russian science fiction.

Rating: 6

Among the numerous authors writing in the genre of humorous fantasy, Olga Gromyko stands out for the better. Yes, its target audience is young people of high school and college age, primarily girls. Yes, this book is naive in many ways. The heroine's experiences and love sufferings are sometimes somewhat monotonous and tiresome, and many jokes are clearly designed for the student crowd. But at the same time, the author managed to create a rather original and attractive world. The main characters, although somewhat sketchy, are very charming. And in general there are a lot of quite colorful characters in the book. The adventures of the main character are quite varied and exciting.

In general, the novel turned out to be a kind of hybrid of The Witcher and Harry Potter, and, oddly enough, it turned out to be quite readable. It is, of course, not particularly deep, but it is easy to read and can bring many pleasant moments even to a person who is not part of the novel’s target audience.:wink:

Rating: 7

A light fairy tale on the verge of a loveburger. Continuing comparisons with taste sensations, O. Gromyko’s novel “Profession: Witch” can be called “saccharine-sweet.” You won't find any sharp plot twists or bright characters here. From the first page to the last, a spirit called “Everything will be fine” hovers over the novel. On the very first pages, the Beautiful Ruler appears and it immediately becomes clear that Volkha will fall in love not with some ordinary guard, but with him. On the first pages you meet a rude magician, and he will not give you any surprises - he will remain enemy No. 1. In order to add at least some spice to the story, the author continually tries to quarrel between the lovers, but the reasons for this are chosen so small and far-fetched that they do not touch you at all. You follow the heroes with a condescending smile: “The dear ones scold - they’re just having fun.”

If Volkha’s character is more or less consistent, then the Ruler behaves alternately like an old man, wise in years, and like a sixteen-year-old spoiled boy (this is especially evident in the second part).

Let's summarize.

Pros. Easy language, narration style, original humor. The blunders are minor and not very noticeable. (Although they are still present. For example, in the scene at the fair, where Volha first calmly treats the “victim”, and then suddenly a raid is announced on her because she was with a vampire). There is, however, also humor that is “far-fetched,” bordering on “American.” Like how Volkha sneezed and a vase fell from the cabinet. Or she hit a tree with her fist - and a bird’s nest fell from it, and not just anywhere, but right on her rival’s head (by the way, a few pages later, she is not even able to shake apples from the tree).

Minuses. The lightness of the plot, the absence of sharp corners that could tickle the reader’s nerves. Lack of any thoughts. The entire novel can safely be called simple entertainment.

Conclusions. For those who just want to unload their brains and read a funny romantic fairy tale, this book is quite suitable.

Rating: 7

Yesterday I finished reading this book. Given how busy I am, it is very rare for a novel to be read in just two evenings. I was captivated. I was captivated by the wonderful language, great sense of humor, and the most interesting plot. The book captivated me from the very first pages and while reading I plunged into the fictional world, in the literal sense of the word, headlong. At first, as often happens, I had suspicions that closer to the end the quality would decline. But my suspicions were not confirmed! What happened next was even better and more interesting. What struck me most was that not once while reading did I have the desire to slam the book, or look at the clock, or do anything else. The last time this happened was a long time ago, when I was just getting acquainted with the work of Sergei Lukyanenko, when I was reading the books of the “Trail” series by Yuri Brider and Nikolai Chadovich, and even when I discovered the transcendental world of “Three from the Forest” by Yuri Nikitin. Of the foreign ones, perhaps only Stephen King. Sorry for the repetition, but I REALLY enjoyed it!

The review was very enthusiastic. This is probably because my heart rejoices at the discovery of a new author, who in the future will perhaps be included in the list of my favorites.

P.S. - This night the little kitten who lives at my house chewed off the corner of this book. He will probably never hear such curses again in the rest of his life! And this means that the book is also delicious :-)

Rating: 10

Perhaps I can confidently call Olga Gromyko one of my main literary discoveries of this year. Her writing is simply incredible. Now, if you think about it, there is nothing like that in her books, but at the same time they enchant, attract... When I read Gromyko’s book, I immediately want to take on her next novel and generally read only her day and night. I have to restrain myself, because Olga doesn’t have many novels, but she wants to prolong the pleasure. But somehow, in general, I will move closer directly to the novel on which this review is being written. I found “Profession...” in the library. It must be said that she was, and still is, in an extremely disheveled state (I’m not the only one who loves Gromyko), but no one poured tea over the pages, and no one used sausage instead of bookmarks. Which is good. And in general, this find made me extremely happy, because before that the library told me that, apart from “Faithful Enemies” and “The Camale Flower” (which I had already read), Olga’s books were not available. And here is such a treasure. Well, I took it and let's read it right away...

It is worth noting that there is much more humor in this novel than in the later works of Olga Gromyko. But, despite the huge abundance of all sorts of jokes, they fit perfectly into the text. You know, many authors of the humorous genre forget that quality is more important than quantity, which is why their books end up being something completely unreadable and - attention! - not funny. This novel is not in danger of that. Olga makes jokes on almost every page, but throughout the entire book I didn’t come across a single stupid joke or one that didn’t fit into the flow of the story. On the contrary, I laughed all the time, and sometimes even out loud. I remember reading “Profession...” in the minibus and, unable to bear it, I started laughing... The whole salon looked at me as if I was crazy. But it was fun. And yes, the most important thing is that there is very positive humor here. I think that Gromyko’s books in general and this novel in particular can be prescribed to people suffering from depression, instead of all sorts of pills. A much more effective remedy, I tell you.

Olga's characters turn out to be so... charming that every time I read a new novel of hers, I have several new favorite characters. For example, Volkha. Well, he's an amazing character. In a sense, she can probably be called a “Mary Sue,” but she is written so professionally that you don’t want to call her that at all. And Len... I’m generally silent about him. A handsome man, a charming vampire, the Lord of Dogeva, the owner of an excellent sense of humor... But this review is not enough to describe all his advantages! In general, my imaginary list under the sonorous heading “Gorgeous Men” has been replenished with one more name, written neatly, beautifully, and you can also add a heart on the side. Oh, I got carried away by something, yes... Well, let's move on. I really liked Troll Val. The curse word “ghyr” made an impression on me back in “Faithful Enemies,” and here I was even more convinced of the idea that now I will only use it, and all thanks to the troll. Well, you must agree that “ghyrov” sounds much better than “damn” and even better than some “horseradish” and other horrors.

Last but not least, I’ll say something about the plot. The very structure of the narrative was interesting, which includes, as it were, two stories that flow into one another, but are at the same time one whole. It was unexpected and very interesting. But I won’t say too much about it, so as not to accidentally spoil it and spoil the pleasure of unexpected plot twists for those who are just about to read this novel. Separately, I would like to say only one thing, regarding the plot. About vampires. At one time, bloodsuckers were very popular in literature, but because of this popularity, many books appeared in which vampires looked more like slobberers than, in fact, vampires. Here Gromyko managed to create new vampires of some kind. Ridicule of already classic vampire superstitions is also good. And the wings that you have, but you can’t fly on, are great. In general, I am completely and completely in love with these vampires, as well as with Kindret Pekhov.

So, what can I say at the end of this verbal diarrhea, which is extremely difficult to stop, because you want to talk and talk and talk about “Profession: Witch”? Never mind! This is a great novel, positive, but my words mean nothing. It’s better not to listen to me at all, stop reading this review and go read Gromyko.

Rating: 10

I did not like. If this had been the first of Gromyko’s works I had read, I would never have picked up her authorship again. Thank God I read this series last.

I'll try to be objective.

First, about the pros.

The world of Beloria undoubtedly has its own charm and charm; it is interesting in itself, without a plot branch. The reality of the students described in the book is also a definite plus. Gromyko's ironic narration and humor can also be noted as the undeniable advantage of this book.

Now about the cons.

Despite the fact that Olga Gromyko is one of the most talented, in my opinion, Russian writers, her debut book seemed boring and uninteresting to me. The main character is an ordinary Mary Sue type, revealed in thousands of fan fictions. And the main character is the standard Martin Sue, the likes of whom I can count only a few. And then, among these few heroes, Len will take a leading position, he is very reminiscent of the main character of “Twilight”.

The plot is completely unremarkable, the twists are easy to predict, and it is not captivating in itself. There are no heroes, well, except for the main character’s horse. The emphasis is on Volkha’s feelings, I understand. However, here too, in my opinion, there is a mistake. Well that was it! Was. In other books, films and thousands of fanfictions. It would be nice if the heroine were unique, with an interesting character and a different biography, and not the stereotyped “a la an orphan with extraordinary abilities.”

The result: an absolutely feminine (in the bad sense of the word), empty narrative, which is written in good language on a fairly interesting basis, as a world. It resembles not a book, but a well-developed fan fiction that was written on the basis of someone else’s, good, usable world.

For school-age girls, this is an objectively good book. But for someone who is used to thinking about a book, or seeing an interesting plot in it, or observing well-developed atypical characters, or all at once, this book is not suitable.

I give it a three. Point for peace, point for irony, point for humor.

Rating: 3

I was prompted to read “Profession of a Witch” by the desire to judge two ladies I know. One thought the book was cute and funny, while the other didn’t like it at all. I was not able to judge them, since I formed my own, third, opinion.

I didn’t have any hopes for a female, humorous fantasy, especially since I recently read several stories from Max’s adventures in the worlds of Echo and was, to put it mildly, not delighted. But on the other hand, I stocked up on some condescension, which compensated for my skeptical attitude.

The language in which Olga Gromyko writes is, without a doubt, rich and juicy, like a bright fine day, full of good mood. You don’t need to do a linguistic analysis to understand right away that he gives Svetlana Martynchik a hundred-point head start. But language alone is not enough for a good book; you also need a plot, but in my opinion, it’s a little bad with it. For the first fifteen hundred pages, almost nothing happens, the red-haired sorceress goes on a mission to the land of vampires, admires the local sights, constantly jokes about something and smiles at the bright present. Also, a handsome bloodsucker, and even a telepath, comes into play (I specifically looked at the date of writing, it was Stephenie Meyer who stole the idea from Gromyko and embodied it in Twilight, and not vice versa as you might think) and again nothing really happens. Only the last fifty pages of the first part do some kind of movement occur, and then, quite naturally, without unnecessary prolongation, the first adventure ends. By the way, for those who don’t like to leave books halfway without finishing, there is an indulgence here: the first part can be read as a separate work, it is completely finished and does not oblige you to read the sequel.

The second half of the book still gets a full-fledged plot in the form of a quest, but it is not particularly exciting. Now not only the main character is humorous, but also her friend, the troll. And the handsome vampire still plays the role of the “handsome vampire.”

The author has avoided excessive sentimentality and other snot, but it’s still a women’s novel, and there’s no getting around it. Since the narration comes from the first female person, I did not experience any dissonance that was there when reading Max Fry (when a woman writes on behalf of a man).

The humor, unfortunately, is not smooth. Either it is surprisingly sparkling, or it is somehow childish, at the level of making faces at the zoo. In general, although I didn’t giggle while reading, I often had a stupid smile with me.

Rating: 6

Wow! What reviews the book has received! Some smart people deny any intellectual component to Olga Gromyko’s books, while others are delighted with the humor... I’ll be honest: I liked the book precisely because of the non-serious humor of the students, no longer freshmen, but not yet graduates. Anyone who lived in a dorm, ate in student canteens, attended boring lectures about who knows what (almost about the incomprehensible magic of higher mathematics, field theory, or maybe metal science, and many subjects in universities in our area that are equal in sound to Volkha’s magic) will understand and laugh with me and the author. You don’t have to be a magician, live in magical worlds, be a human or a vampire, everything is comparable to the characters of earthly students, princes, and other creatures. I read it, chuckled at times, and didn’t think much about the plot. There must be a book for entertainment, and these books were written by Olga Gromyko. I give 8 points for relaxing with a book.

Rating: 8

Olga Gromyko can be given a lot of credit in connection with this book. Starting from the very first - with the name. Well, what normal modern teenager would pass by the word witch indifferently, especially if it is designated as a profession! And having opened a book even out of simple curiosity, few people can resist reading a few lines here and there, even fluently and randomly - at least that’s what your humble servant did, pulling out a tattered (also a sign of popularity!) book volume from close-knit fantasy rows of domestic authors standing on a library shelf. And then everything was simple - since nothing disgusting was discovered during this cursory reconnaissance, the book migrated to the armpit, and then to the saddlebag...

The expectations from the book coincided with the actual pleasure received by all percentages, and even slightly exceeded, almost up to the Quality Mark. A very light, pleasant text, not burdened with the intricacies of philosophy and scientific mush. Very pleasant light ironic humor, just a little playful and crazy, as befits the 17-18-year-old age of our heroine. There is a lot of romance and not without a slight admixture of love lyrics, but no pink sniffles and other oohs and ahs and other purely girly things - everything in moderation, everything in the right proportion. Very pleasant characters that are easy to understand and like, be they witches, be high vampires, and even those who according to the book are evil entities, are still written by the author not without some love and affection. A very light, unpretentious plot, a simple and understandable sequence of events, you don’t forget anyone while reading and don’t wince later trying to place markers in the names and nicknames of the characters...

This list of everything light, airy, simple, pleasant, understandable, cheerful, ironic, playful and crazy - you can continue to formulate and write out all this as much as you like, but it’s better to just pick up the book (I’m sure that due to its popularity, get a book volume will not be a problem at all!) and start reading, and smile with all 32 teeth, and get pleasure and a portion of optimism, light, goodness and happiness...

Rating: 10

At the very beginning of my critical review, I want to clarify: I really like Olga Gromyko’s trilogy about Volkha Rednaya. Back in 2003, from the very first pages of the book, I realized that I had found something worthy of my attention. Many years have passed since then; Gromyko has published many books, but none of them could compete with the trilogy about Volch, much less with the first book in the series.

Of course, I am subjective and biased. However, I bloody love the humor and irony that this novel consists of. There are books that you don’t get tired of no matter how many times you read them, and “Profession: Witch” is one of them. Over the past fourteen years, I have repeatedly re-read novels about Volkh (I think this time will be the fourth). And although I remain a devoted fan of this series, I cannot help but note that Olga Gromyko’s books, like any other work, have shortcomings. And since I like the author’s humor even now, by shortcomings I mean the author’s mistakes and logical contradictions within the book. These are the ones I will focus on in this review.

Before I begin, please note that I am paying attention specifically to the author’s mistakes. Those absurdities in the text (such as knightly armor worn on a naked body or the frankly strange behavior of the heroes in certain situations) that are allowed for the sake of an ironic or humorous component remain beyond the scope of my review. So, let's go.

First, let's talk about minor errors, and only then about more global ones.

Throughout the novel, the author was never able to decide on the academic degree of a minor character named Almit. In the first chapter, on page 19* Almit is first called a graduate student, and a paragraph later - a 4th degree master. Then, on page 107, remembering the excursion that Volha went on with her classmates, Almit is called a master. What is important: this excursion took place either several months or several years before the start of the events of the novel. Moreover, in the second part of the novel, the events of which unfold four months after Volkha returned from Dogeva, Almit again flaunts the status of a graduate student! In any case, the lecture is given to students not by a 4th degree master, but by a graduate student (page 227). The funny thing is that on page 229 Volkha recalls that at one time Almit, who got pretty drunk after graduating from graduate school, was unable to get into the territory of the School of Magicians, Pythias and Herbalists.

A geographical error awaits us on page 105. The fact is that it is reported here. That the Elgar mountain range, which cuts off Beloria from the sea, is located on its EASTERN borders. Meanwhile, on the map that appeared in the novel “The High Witch”, Elgar is located in the SOUTH of Beloria.

On page 198, Volha for some reason calls mermaids “folkloric elements.” This is very strange, since such a phrase implies that mermaids are fictional creatures and live only in fairy tales and legends. But this is not so, since for the inhabitants of Beloria, mermaids are nothing more than another race of intelligent creatures living side by side with people and therefore do not represent anything folklore.

Now let's talk about the author's more serious mistakes.

The policy of the King of Beloria regarding the destruction of villages in which the plague broke out is completely inexplicable. The author, through the mouth of his heroine, makes it clear that this was done for the purpose of saving money; they say that the services of magic healers are more expensive than sending out squads of punitive soldiers. The statement is quite controversial, since soldiers also have to pay for both risk and very specific work. In addition, burning villages does not at all guarantee victory over the epidemic (eventually this happened), but they reduce the tax base and incite hatred among the people against their ruler. With such a policy, you will expect not only rotten vegetables from a crowd of townspeople, but a peasant uprising, or even worse - a conspiracy from your inner circle. So why local genocide, and not a banal quarantine? Yes, just like that, the author had to come up with a difficult past for her heroine and she came up with it without bothering with authenticity. For the first, but not the last time, the need to resolve some particular issue ends up damaging the main plot of the cycle.

As funny as it may seem, the biggest problems with a vampire novel are the knowledge about the vampires themselves. For example, the attitude of representatives of the human race towards them. The book, and at the same time the entire series as a whole, has a powerful tolerant subtext. Who are the vampires in Gromyko's books? This is a persecuted and oppressed nationality, about which the racial majority comes up with outright fables. The key word here is “invents,” because in this series, myths about vampires have nothing to do with reality. It turns out that vampires are Jews about whom the public makes up all sorts of stupid legends that they eat Christian babies at night... oh, sorry, they drink the blood of innocent virgins. But where did such a negative attitude towards vampires come from - a logical plug. With Jews it’s clear: religious reasons for dislike (Christ was crucified!) were superimposed on an occupation that was condemned by the rest of society (usury), hence first alienation, then hatred, and ultimately idiotic legends. For some reason, the author does not tell us what vampires did for the inhabitants of Beloria, Vanessa, Volmenia and other human states to earn such terrible fame. Because of this, all of Gromyko’s attempts to portray vampires as kind and harmless creatures, and people as xenophobes and obscurantists, look, to put it mildly, rather strange.

Or, at the very beginning of the second part of the novel, Gromyko makes it clear that the surrounding states do not know that the valleys in which vampires live, due to the phenomenon of collapsed spaces, are many times larger than they seem if you look at the map (because of this Volkha’s teacher even has to keep her course work classified). However, this is complete nonsense, because from the text it follows that the troops of Beloria captured a significant part of Dogeva during the war (a quarter of the valley was burned out and now a young forest grows on this territory, and the witch’s circle lost one of the precious stones). During the hardest battles, people simply could not help but encounter the “draft effect.” Just imagine what a hassle this was for the attackers, when any step away from the familiar path could throw you to the other end of the valley, and an enemy squad that is perfectly familiar with all the portals could jump out from behind. In such conditions, even people with reduced intelligence will realize that with the size of Dogeva (Arlissa, Lesk, etc.) not everything is so simple. However, according to the author, people are still unaware of the main secret of the vampire valleys. Thus, we have an obvious author's mistake.

But the biggest illogicality in the cycle is the war between humans and vampires. According to the author, seventy years ago all twelve valley states were attacked by people. The war, or rather a series of wars, since the valleys of vampires are scattered throughout the world, was waged with unprecedented tension and bitterness on both sides. At the same time, the motives of the rulers of human states who dragged their powers into a natural massacre, in which for each killed enemy they had to give up 5 - 10, or even 20 of their soldiers, are completely incomprehensible. The logic in such actions becomes understandable only under the condition that the human race faced a very clear and real threat from vampires. In this case, yes, and the strange coordination in the actions of countries far from each other, and all expenses and any losses (absolutely unacceptable under other circumstances) are justified. But in Gromyko’s cycle, vampires are a peaceful race, not inclined to expansion, and besides, its representatives do not need human blood at all for a normal life!

Now let’s take a pencil and a calculator and try to imagine the scale of the war. There are twelve valleys: Dogeva, Lesk, Arliss, Volia, etc. We know from a representative of the vampire race that before the war, for every ten ordinary vampires there was one white-haired one. In Dogev there were 2,000 thousand, in Arliss - 1,500 (page 125). It turns out that before the war there were 22,000 vampires living in Dogev, and 16,500 in Arliss. Let’s assume that the other valleys also had about 20,000 vampires each. In total, it turns out that before the war there were about 250,000 vampires in the world, of which 25,000 were white-haired. At the end of the Overlord War, seventeen (17) individuals remained (page 125). From a troll mercenary we learn that in that war, for every vampire killed, up to twenty people died (page 279). Through calculations available to second-grade students of high school, it turns out that in order to destroy only the white-haired overlords, half a million knights, magicians, mercenaries, and militias had to die. But it was also necessary to kill ordinary vampires, each of whom is much stronger, faster and more resilient than any person!

In light of this, a grandiose war in the scenery of the abstract Middle Ages with hundreds of thousands, or even millions, killed on the battlefields looks simply insane from the point of view of common sense (where can one even recruit so many soldiers under feudalism?). Fans of the cycle may not notice such a blatant example of authorial tyranny (just as they do not notice that the mass murder took less than a month - a period absolutely unimaginable until the invention of automatic weapons capable of mowing down entire shelves in a matter of minutes), but at the slightest attempt to analyze the background of the events of the cycle the author's mistakes immediately become obvious.

Personally, it seems to me that all of the above is the result of Gromyko’s inexperience as a writer. One feels that the author created the novel without a clear plan and coherent concept, stringing various humorous episodes onto the main plot of the story. In the end, what happened was what happened. On the one hand, most of the mistakes could have been avoided with a more thorough study of the work, but in this case the novel would have lost a considerable share of its enthusiasm and charm. Subsequently, Gromyko took a more responsible approach to writing books, but she never managed to surpass her literary debut.

Bottom line: in my review I talked at length and tediously about the shortcomings of the novel, but all this is mostly nonsense. “Profession: Witch,” despite its numerous flaws, is a true pearl of humorous fantasy, which is a must-read for all fans of this genre. After its release, the novel gave rise to a flurry of imitations. Mischievous witches, fanged horses and pseudo-Slavic surroundings simply filled the pages of novels published by MTA. However, a successful author is not to blame for the creativity of his epigones. And even now, when the use of developments invented by Gromyko for writing humorous fantasy is a terrible bad manners, the influence of books about Volkha Rednaya on the genre remains noticeable, because the rejection of cliches and overcoming established canons is also part of the literary heritage.

* - we are talking about the first edition of the novel.

Rating: 10

I read this book on Nadia's recommendation. She literally infected me with her enthusiasm and extremely positive emotions, and I eagerly awaited the book that was later handed to me. Even from just one glance at the tome, I already felt respect and admiration for this novel. The huge Tolmud looked very impressive: smile:

I devoured one hundred and seventy pages in a compressed format in just two days and... I was incredibly pleased, and most importantly, surprised!

What struck me most was the language, apart from the plot, of course. The novel is written in a magnificent style, in a wonderful folklore style, it is very easy to read, and the excellent sense of humor of the no less excellent writer, Olga Gromyko, even evokes a feeling of envy!: smile:

I haven’t read such kind, funny and at the same time smart books for quite a long time. I would also like to note the images of the main characters. Firstly, Volkha Rednaya, an emotional, liberated girl who constantly gets into unpleasant situations and knows how to make an elephant out of a molehill, suited the image of the GG so much that I had no doubts - she was largely copied from the writer herself.

Well, what about handsome Len? He really just stole my heart! Just the perfect man! He will not leave any woman indifferent, except perhaps Kella...:wink: A graceful, powerful, calm and courteous vampire in appearance, at heart as restless, curious and indomitable as Volha, suits her just perfectly. A very harmonious couple!

The book delighted me to the core and I am looking forward to reading the second part...:smile:

Thank you, Olga Gromyko, for such an extraordinary miracle that you created and gave me several days of true pleasure!:pray::appl.

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