The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19. Ви Корс
box, decorated with blue stones around the edge, his cigarette case. He opens it and sees with amazement that it is full, one might even say stuffed with cigarettes. They are neatly stacked in rows in two layers, tightly pressed against one another, on both sides.
“Thank you”, Kors thanks, dazed, hesitating at first to disturb the order of his cigarettes, which are so beautifully arranged. But then he pulls out one and lights it up.
“Vitor, I love you,” Nik says quietly.
And Kors doesn’t believe his ears:
“What?!”
Nik seriously and somehow very attentively looks at him and repeats:
“I love you. I don’t play now and don’t reflect.”
And Kors throws away his cigarette, falls to his knees:
“But why? Why now?!” There are tears in his eyes.
“I don’t know,” Nik shrugs, “it doesn’t happen on purpose, but somehow by itself. It is so? And you can’t explain. But this is for real, I'm not fooling you now. It’s true.”
And Kors kisses his hands and whispers:
“I will do everything for you! What do you want?!”
“Just be who you are.”
“But I lecture you all the time and generally talk a lot.”
“Talk,” and Nik pulls him to him to kiss…
They loved each other that night, the first time they loved each other as a threesome.
It was then that Kors felt some unreal unity of the three of them, ecstasy, and the Power that this merger gave them. And in this trinity he achieved bliss.
“I’m happy, I’m happy now. Will you take me with you to your world?”
“Do you want it?!”
“Yes! More than anything! I didn’t want it before, but now I do. Let me not become a Demon like Arel, let me just remain your slave, but please take me with you, I beg you!”
“You will become it.”
“What?! What have you said?”
“You will become a Demon. Or rather, it’s not like that, you don’t need to become one, you always have been one .”
“O-o-oh!” And Kors covered his face with his hands in despair. What for? Why did he remember it now?
Chapter 5
After recovering a little from the vivid feelings and memories that flooded over him, Kors finally opened the cigarette case. It was practically empty, only a couple of cigarettes remained in it.
“I need to call Adrian, let him bring me cigarettes,” thought Kors and mentally called his slave.
Putting a box on the table, Adrian stood in front of the owner, his head down and looking at the floor. Kors involuntarily noted to himself that Adrian was very thin. His once-fitting warrior clothes now literally hung on him, and he had to tie his pants around his waist with an extra belt or they would just fall off. When Adrian was in the saddle, it was not so noticeable, but now Kors was struck by how emaciated his slave was. For a fraction of a second, he even felt sorry for him.
“How does it feel to be punished by the White Lord?” Kors said aloud, turning the cigarette case in his hands in confusion and thinking about his own thoughts.
But Adrian took it as a question put to him:
“I put a punishment on me myself, master,” he replied, still not raising his head and continuing to stare stubbornly at the floor.
Kors put down his cigarette case and grinned skeptically.
“Yourself?”
“The motto of the White Lord is ‘FEAR NOTHING’, but I was afraid. I got scared and began to fall down. He wanted the best, I myself didn’t listen to him, didn’t believe him and gave up. I didn’t hear what was being told me. As a result, I started to fall lower and lower,” for a split second, Adrian looked up at Kors, looking into his face somehow very seriously and attentively, but then lowered his head again.
Kors froze, “Does Nik have a motto? But he didn’t tell me! All the unclean ones know it, but me! I decided that Nik’s motto was “Never ask for anything.” And Nik agreed with me. As always, he agreed and didn’t object. He didn’t say, “No. I have a different motto.” Right, why saying so? Let everyone around know his motto, except for his father! Who cares?! Deceiver! But now everything will be different!”
“Okay, enough of this nonsense, go to hell, Adry! Kors said irritably, and his slave backed quickly towards the exit.
Kors suddenly thought that he had never once asked Adrian what his wrongdoing was. He was not interested in this and other unclean one. “That’s a coward” – so roughly he was told, and Kors didn’t elaborate. So what was your cowardice, Adrian? And yet, what’s the difference?
Kors was toiling the rest of the day. He either lay down on the bed, then got up and smoked, and so every twenty minutes. He was bored, dreary, unbearably lonely and scared. Nothing happened the way he wanted, and he did not know what to do, knowing full well that Nik was sleeping and would not call him. It was necessary to wait. Unable to stand it, Kors nevertheless “looked” at him.
Their tent was still in disarray, Verniy and Valentine hadn’t cleaned anything, and Nik’s boot was still lying at the entrance, where he had thrown it. Kors saw Nik and Arel. They slept together on a narrow couch, carelessly covered with a brocade blanket and huddling close to each other. Nik lay in place of Kors. His face remained wrapped in black strips of cloth. He had kicked Kors out, but he didn’t take them off, he didn’t unbandage his face. “Probably, there really is something serious,” Kors thought sadly, “he won’t cope with the treatment, he will ruin everything, he will ruin everything completely! What a stubborn idiot!”
Nik was lying pressed against Arel. Kors saw his tattooed and therefore seemingly black shoulder, completely painted and, because of that, the same black arm lying on top of the “golden” blanket. He hugged Arel, and he slept peacefully, his mouth slightly open and snoring softly. The prince’s hair, like a waterfall of dark chocolate, flowed down from the edge of the trestle bed to the floor. “But why does Nik love Arel so much?!” Kors didn’t understand. “They are always together. Did they ever really fight? Why? Why does he love him so much?!”
“Arel never helped him, did nothing for Nik. Unreliable, capricious and cruel descendant of an ancient family, he always mistreated his people, and Nik was no exception. Arel used him, not sparing, ordered to get money for him! He didn’t treat him, but on the contrary, he only beat and maimed him. Humiliated him. He put a “chastity belt” on him. He didn’t develop him in any way, didn’t explain the rules of life, didn’t give reasonable and useful advice! Didn’t take him out of jail. He did nothing for Nik! Nothing! And no matter what, Nik loves him so much! And I did everything for him! I treated him, taught him, cared about him! And what is the result? I was deceived, made fun of and driven away! Here it is, gratitude!” Kors cut off the vision angrily.
He wanted to finally stop endlessly thinking about Nik and exasperating himself with resentment, so he called Parky to report to him about the situation in their camp and somehow distract him.
Parky, with calm indifference, reported that everything was in perfect order, and, to the disappointment of Kors, didn’t give him the slightest reason to use his iron rod.
“Parky, you know that I not only hear thoughts, but I can see lives, and not only will I hear every bad word or thought about me, but I will see every offense. You know about it? Any secret act will become clear. You understand?” Kors asked him sternly.
“Yes, of course, Commander,” Parky replied, not at all frightened, “I have no bad thoughts, and I follow your orders.”
And