~Late Spring, 1888~

Count Vasili Vasilovich was not the first Russian to abandon his patronymic name -- nor would he be the last.

His mother had been Dutch and she thought the custom sounded dreadfully common. She persuaded his father to drop all ties with the barbaric practice. Their son would be named Vasili on top of it -- a blatant slap in the face of peasant Russians everywhere. He didn’t have a patronymic, yet his first name reflected his last. His mother was greatly pleased, for now when he inherited the position of governor of the tiny province of Vointsky he would be oozing French and Dutch aristocracy. And they, after all, were the most important aristocracy of them all.

They weren’t the only gentry leaving behind Russian traditions in favor of more Continental ones of course, but they did make their mark.

Unfortunately, it was a very small mark, leaving Vasili with plenty of money and land -- but very little name.

The Countess Natasha set out to change that. After their wedding she began to brew plans of children. Yes, beautiful children that would keep the Western European tradition of many names (none of which were patronymics), but still rise in the ranks of society. They would be forever remembered, as would she. They would mark the way for the new breed of Russian nobility, the ones that left behind the serfdom traditions for the hopelessly gentile Western European ones.

As according to her scheme they were gorgeous and precocious children, commented upon by the neighbors and revered as the most stunning in the provinces of Southern Russia.

Vladimir was the eldest, tall for his age, with an endearing Russian quality around his eyes and chin, and a large smile from moist lips. His hair was chocolate, adding to his ruddy complexion and deep swirls of brown eyes that were shrouded by even darker lashes.

The coppery fairy Lara was the opposite in every regard. She had the features of a Goddess, a mighty Aphrodite at only six that threatened to break the hearts of many. She was thin elegance to Vlad's sturdy structure, a blue eyed sprite of mischief. Her voice, so enchantingly flowing from deep crimson lips, echoed with adventure and mischief.

Then -- there was Kosma.

“Lara! Get down from that tree immediately!”

“But it’s so beautiful up here, Vlad!” She swung onto a branch of the old willow, letting her shiny boots and white stockings dangle above her older brother’s head playfully. Vladimir crossed his arms.

“You must get down before Mother sees!”

Lara dramatically rolled her eyes and dropped into the young boy’s arms. “Are you happy now, Vlad?”

Vlad placed her quickly on the ground next to the young Kosma. “I’ve never seen a girl of seven so...so...” He thought carefully for a very important sounding word like his tutors often taught him. “Rambunctious!” Yes, that was perfect. It had been his spelling word of the week.

“That’s a silly word,” Lara giggled, “but I like it! Am I ram-bunny-ticks?” Despite her trying to pretend she didn’t know the word, she had a secret: she often listened in on her brother’s tutoring, and could read almost as well as him.

Vlad was trying very hard in only a way that a young boy could to not laugh, but Lara’s turn of a phrase always delighted him. He smoothed his pants, still fond of the fact that upon his last birthday (which was only a week ago) he had been able to at once dress more adult like, wearing the longer coats and sturdier boots of his father.

“You’re very ram-bunny-ticks, Lara,” he laughed. “But you better not let Mama see that.”

Kosma, only five, remained out of his sibling’s discussion, instead letting his interest divert to a bug crawling along his finger. He brought it to his blue eyes, staring at it as a friend, not a specimen.

It was a beautiful bug he noticed, with a very pretty red pattern on it’s back. It scurried across his hand, diving under the folds of Kosma’s long sleeve, then surfacing around his neck. It skimmed along his lower dark curls. The boy laughed happily, letting it find it’s way back down the front of his coat and into his lap.

“Kosma!” Vlad hesitantly picked the bug off of his brother’s pants and discarded it into the forest gently. “Don’t play with bugs! You know what Papa says. They may be dangerous.”

“But I like them!”

Vlad didn’t have opportunity to respond before he noticed Lara off and running again, this time shedding the brocade slip dress and sash for a dip in the lake in her under things.

“LARA!!” He ran behind her, plaintively calling her name as he struggled to keep after the auburn haired nymph.

Kosma stood and scooted after them, always eager for a swim, especially if it was behind Mother’s back! He loved the water, much more than Lara or Vlad, and made a habit of watching the fish swoop around him in the murky coolness of the lake as his brother begged him to keep his head above water.

He tripped once, the laces of his boots catching on the roots of a gnarled tree. He was up before anyone could notice, his pride a serious factor at even five, and continued running to the lake.

Vlad and Lara were no longer ahead of them. They were gone, disappearing into the dense forest foliage.

Kosma looked frantically to either side of him, his young heart immediately absorbed in thoughts of the worst. He was standing in a large clearing in the middle of the forest, trees forming a circular barrier around him. They had never ventured in this direction before -- how like Lara to explore a new path.

His hands gripped the red coat and pulled it even closer, trying to immerse himself in the crimson folds. He shivered, unable to think past the panic that gripped him. He was too young to understand deduction and reason -- he only saw huge monsters lurking in the dark on the path to his wayward siblings and familiar surroundings. Would they eat him? Would they chew him at once then spit him back out like in the scary stories of Baba Yaga and other Russian fantasies that Lara whispered to him at night?

“Hello.”

Kosma turned.

Across the field was a little girl, a few months younger than him at most. She was holding a daisy in his direction, her small rosebud lips smiling shyly.

He found himself beside her in the glen. She placed the daisy in his hand, it’s sunny yellow making him feel wonderfully peaceful. He looked hesitantly up at her. She smiled again, her long blonde hair falling around her in a great sea of glittering light. Kosma remembered a picture he had seen in the church of a dozen beautiful angels hovering over the lost children of the world, carefully guiding them to their rightful path with gentle hands. She was an image of them. He reached out and touched her arm, finding it to not be mystical, but real.

“Kosma!”

Kosma quickly looked behind him. Vlad was entering the glen, pulling a dripping Lara behind him. She had evidently reached the lake before the boy could fish her back out.

“What are you doing here?” Vlad scooped Kosma in his arms protectively. “Are you all right? We couldn’t find you!”

Kosma nodded eagerly, holding the daisy out to his older brother. Vlad smiled.

“How pretty. It’s a good thing we found you. Mother would have all of our hides if we had lost you.” He cradled his little brother closer to him, lovingly smoothing his wavy brown hair.

“But I didn’t run off --”

“You were all alone out here.” Vladimir looked at his younger brother with a 13-year-olds wisdom, a knowledge that had long ago replaced his youngest sibling’s imaginative one.

“I wasn’t alone,” Kosma laughed. “See?” He pointed to the girl.

Or where the girl had once been standing.

“There’s no one there,” the soaking Lara replied. She burst into teasing laughter. “Kosma has an imaginary girlfriend!”

Kosma jumped from Vlad’s arms and walked to the spot. His eyebrows furrowed as his blue eyes searched the surrounding forest for the whereabouts of the little girl. She was no where to be found.

Vlad sighed and took his hand. “Let’s go home before Mother notices we’re missing.”

“Kosma has an imaginary girlfrienddddddddddd...”

“Be quiet, Lara!”

“You be quiet!”

“Children!”

“Vlad!! Kosma pinched me!!”

“Kosma!”

“She was singing about me!”

They slowly left the charmed place, forgetting the events of a few moments before.

Except for Kosma.

He glanced back, a gentle tugging requesting his presence. He looked at the daisy in his hand.

It’s sunny silence held it’s secrets.

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© 1999 - 2000 AnyaCI@aol.com