The famous best-selling dystopian book about our near future. After an environmental disaster, a united Europe finds itself under the rule of a president who calls himself a savior and messiah.

The surviving people live under a totalitarian regime, where the main way of existence is a global computer network - “Reality”, to which they are connected.

Cassandra goes to help her sick grandmother. Finding herself in an unusual world - “Ordinary Life”, the heroine learns the truth about such “normal” phenomena as “mandatory euthanasia”, “clones”, “ecological police”, “aces”...

Having survived dangerous adventures, performing feats, meeting her first love and escaping from a death camp, Cassandra overcomes all obstacles and unexpectedly becomes... a human.

On our website you can download the book “Cassandra’s Way, or Adventures with Pasta” Yulia Nikolaevna Voznesenskaya for free and without registration in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format, read the book online or buy the book in the online store.

Yulia Voznesenskaya

Cassandra's Way, or Adventures with Pasta

© Grif LLC, design, 2013

© LLC Publishing House “Lepta Book”, text, illustrations, 2013

© Voznesenskaya Yu.N., 2013

You know the signs of the Antichrist, do not remember them yourself, but share them generously with everyone.

St. Cyril of Jerusalem

It's much later now than you think.

Hieromonk Seraphim (Rose) Platinsky

- What if he was carrying pasta?!

Replica from an old Russian film

God bless!

A narrow deer path, strewn with fallen leaves, secretly wound between the black trunks of centuries-old trees, the forest was silent in a sensitive, wary stillness; From time to time, slowly, as if afraid to frighten away the silence, a yellow or orange leaf would fly from a branch, float, spin, and fall onto the path in front of us. The path led Indrik and me to a wide clearing illuminated by the white autumn sun; now, instead of leaves, under Indrik’s hooves lay a thick layer of red ash, covered with gray ash on top: on the sides of the clearing stood dead, coal-black, scorched trees. I hugged the unicorn’s white neck, leaned over and whispered into the pink, sensitive, pointed ear:

- Just be quiet, Indrik! He seems to be sleeping...

Indrik slightly nodded his horn in agreement and began to step even more carefully, trying not to disturb the mysterious silence of the dead forest.

Fafnir sleeps lightly, but we managed to approach the very entrance to the cave undetected. From a huge black hole with melted edges, wisps of hot yellow steam hissed out. I slid off the unicorn’s back, crept up to the rock on the side of the cave and carefully began to climb up, trying not to let a single pebble fall out from under my hand, not a single charred bush crunch under my foot. Somehow catching myself on the smoky stones just above the entrance to the cave, I untied and took off my belt - a long cord twisted from silk and gold threads, into which three hairs from my braid were woven. I tied a loop from my belt, got ready and nodded to Indrik - it’s time!

Standing right in front of the cave, Indrik arched his neck like a swan and sang a beautiful song without words. The sound of his voice was like a cello. In response, a powerful roar was heard from the cave mouth and a long tongue of flame shot out. There was a smell of heat right in my face, and my eyes stung from the acrid smoke. But Indrik didn’t care for the dragon’s fiery breath, he only pressed his hooves harder into the loose ash, so as not to be carried away by the hot whirlwind, and lowered his long eyelashes, protecting his eyes from the flying ash.

“I’ll roast you for dinner in a minute, you blatant goat meat!”

Indrik, gracefully stepping with his thin legs, took several dancing steps to the right and left in front of the dragon's face. He craned his neck, moving his head and looking at the unicorn first with one eye and then with the other, like a rooster looking at a bug. Indrik looked at me expressively - now you! I estimated the width of the loop, spread it a little and deftly threw the magic weapon onto the dragon’s head. Fafnir lunged forward, the noose sliding down his wrinkled neck and resting next to the thick gold chain he wore as a badge of being one of the toughest reptiles. The dragon rushed, and I was carried off the ledge above the cave: in an instant I found myself on its back, successfully landing just between the two branches of the ridge. Fafnir howled, crouched on all fours, shaking his head and stupidly twirling his menacing, spiked tail. But the dragon could no longer harm us: the virgin’s belt and the unicorn’s song made him helpless. The monster’s paws bent and moved apart, he lay down right in the ashes, turned his head towards me and released a large muddy tear from his round green eye with an oblong pupil. The tear plopped into the hot ashes and immediately evaporated with a hiss.

- Hear you, maiden! Would you let me go, would you? Other dragons will laugh at me - the girl and the goat won!

“You will answer for the “goat”,” Indrik remarked softly. - It's time to go back, my lady!

We went to the castle: in front was Indrik, singing a loud song of triumph, and behind me, riding on a tamed dragon, who occasionally howled in a bad voice from unbearable humiliation.

The castle in which my friends and I were now living stood on a high hill behind the forest. From a distance it seemed like a whole town - so many towers with weather vanes and spiers piled above its high battlements. When we approached the main gate, the boy heralds came out onto the platform of the gate tower, raised their trumpets and sounded something victoriously heroic. The bridge creaked down, the massive cast-iron gate rose with a clang, and we solemnly entered the castle courtyard. I tied the end of my belt to the ring of an empty hitching post and left Fafnir near it; all our horses were now in the stables, otherwise the dragon would have had to endure a humiliating neighborhood for him.

“My lady, can I leave if you no longer need me today?”

- Of course, Indrik, go. Thank you for your good service.

– Thank you for this fairy tale, Mrs. Cassandra. Bye, overgrown lizard! I hope you won't get bored here!

Nodding to the dragon, Indrik brought all four legs to one point, swayed over it, and then jumped over a five-meter wall with one long jump.

“Get out of here, you one-horned goat,” Fafnir grumbled when Indrik could no longer hear him.

I laughed and went to the donjon - the main tower of the castle. There, on the second floor, there was our banquet hall, in which my friends and lover were supposed to wait for me. Climbing the wide stone staircase, on the landings of which stood knightly armor, and on the walls hung faded banners of armies and standards of kings, I changed my appearance as I walked: instead of a simple white dress, I composed a heavy formal outfit for myself from dark cherry velvet, and let down my braid and curled it in long locks. Then, pushing the heavy doors with both hands, I solemnly entered the hall.

Everyone had already gathered and was feasting at a long oak table, laden with pewter and silver dishes, dishes, jugs and candles. A flame was blazing in the huge fireplace, and in front of it lay thoughtful shaggy dogs, lazily gnawing on bones brought from the table; a wandering musician melancholy plucked the strings of his lute, humming some ballad in a low voice, but no one seemed to be listening to him. True, on the bench next to him, on a fluffy lynx skin, our handsome Parsifal was lying in a casually elegant pose, but he was sleeping matter-of-factly, snoring with his chiseled nose. Lovers cooed, friends talked, someone reluctantly drank... The poet Merlock thoughtlessly moved a golden pencil over an ivory tablet, drawing completely meaningless curlicues instead of exquisite courtly verses. Heinrich teased his parrot, and he nervously stepped with his clawed paws on his owner’s broad shoulder and reached for the glass of wine in his hand.

- Wow, darlings, here I am!

Everyone turned to me and joyfully shouted in discord:

- Look who came! Wow, Sandra!

– Where have you been, Sandra?

- Yes, so, I was walking in the forest, captivating a dragon.

- Tell stories! How could you fight a dragon alone? – Heinrich said in an incredulous bass voice, waving away the annoying beak of his drinking parrot.

“And why does a young girl need to capture dragons?” – the beautiful Aenea drawled mockingly. “You need to capture beautiful princes and impeccable knights, and they are all here.”

“Well, we can all do this, it’s so simple,” said Isolde, hugging Merlock. The poet glanced at her tenderly and condescendingly and stroked the hand lying on his shoulder.

“Pour me some wine, I’m tired,” I said, going to my usual place next to Eric. He jumped up, kissed my hand and pushed back the heavy chair so that I could sit down.

- Why didn’t you help your beauty cope with the dragon, Eric? - Aeneas counterfeited him.

“Indrik probably helped her, she usually takes him with her on such magical expeditions,” Marlock noted. He was always a little jealous of my friendship with the unicorn. The poet knew well that you can invent and create a phantom unicorn in Reality, but it will not be a genuine miracle beast of ancient legends: real unicorns are not invented, but summoned, and they are friends only with virgins, and virginity also cannot be invented: it, like A unicorn either exists or it doesn’t.

“Really, Sandra, why didn’t you invite me with you?” – Eric asked gloomily.

– You know, my love, that Indrik would not want to go with you.

– I know, Indrik keeps company only with innocent girls. But your innocence is not my fault - it is my misfortune.

21
Jul
2012

Cassandra's Path, or Adventures with Pasta (Yulia Voznesenskaya)

ISBN: 978-5-91173-091-8
Format: FB2,

Year of issue: 2009
Publisher:
Genre:
Language:
Number of pages: 592

Description:The book takes place in the near future: the main character, a young girl Cassandra, overcoming the temptations of a world disfigured by the rule of the Antichrist, finds her way to God, choosing the narrow and difficult path of the Orthodox faith.

10
Mar
2013

Cassandra's Path, or Adventures with Pasta (Julia Voznesenskaya)

Author:
Year of manufacture: 2013
Genre:
Publisher:
Executor:
Duration: 17:23:02
Description: The book by Yulia Nikolaevna Voznesenskaya “The Path of Cassandra, or Adventures with Pasta” is a futuristic dystopian novel telling about the times of the reign of the Antichrist-False Messiah on earth. The main character of the book, the girl Cassandra, revived for real life by the great miracle of love, overcomes many difficulties and finds her way to God. The story "Cassandra's Way" is another attempt to remind us that...

03
Apr
2011

Cassandra's Path, or Adventures with Pasta (Yulia Voznesenskaya)

Format: audiobook, MP3, 160kbps
Author:
Year of manufacture: 2009
Genre:
Publisher:
Executor:
Duration: 15:54:45
Description: The famous dystopian novel figuratively tells about the times of the near future. The inhabitants of planet Earth who survived the environmental disaster, having unanimously elected the “Messiah”-Antichrist as president, live under a totalitarian regime, shrouded in the intoxication of virtual reality. The young girl Cassandra, having overcome the temptations of the world and having met true love, finds her way to God. Another book by Yulia Voznesenskaya on our tracker...

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Format: audiobook, MP3, 96kbps
Author:
Year of manufacture: 2011
Genre:
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Executor:
Duration: 26:40:10
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Executor:
Duration: 04:08:02
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Year of manufacture: 2010
Genre: Roman-allegory
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Executor:
Duration: 06:09:49
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Genre:
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Executor:
Duration: 23:04:56
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Executor:
Duration: 24:35:29
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