The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

Every morn and every night

Some are born to sweet delight

Some are born to sweet delight

Some are born to endless night"

Some are born to sweet delight

Some are born to endless night"

Chapter 12

About four o’clock in the morning they returned, and Kors jumped up on his couch. Nik walked into the room very confidently, he was without his crutch, which Kors had become so accustomed to lately that he even put up with it. Nik’s face, as always, was covered by a mask, but Kors immediately realized that his son had removed the bandages. Kors noticed it instantly, as soon as he saw Nik and how his hair, now unrestrained, scattered on the sides of his face, obscuring the entire right side of his face. And it was the same, no matter how Kors combed it and smoothed it. What was the point of cutting his bangs if it instantly grew back? And Nik, apparently, didn’t want to be any other, only shaggy. Kors also saw that Valentine was wearing a leather band over his helmet that limited his vision, exactly the same as the blue cleaning slave in the Limit. Now Valentine could only look at his feet. Arel was leading him on the chain.

Kors looked at them in surprise.

“Where have you been?!”

“In my Limit,” Nik answered calmly and without any tricks, and Kors couldn’t believe his ears:

“In the Limit? But how?!”

“A local old witch used to live here not far away. Well… she was also stirring up all sorts of drugs, she was very bad at it. But the Port remained in her cave, I already opened it before and went to my Limit,” Nik explained in detail.

“But why didn’t you take me with you?”

“Did you want to?”

“N-n… I don’t know, probably not…”

“Vitor, we didn’t stay there for long, I just needed to recover a bit. I will take you there next time. My word!” Nik promised.

“To recover? You have taken off your bandages! Did you take Black Water there?” Kors bombarded him with questions.

“I have recovered,” Nik repeated evasively, “and now I will continue your training.”

“Now? At four in the morning?”

“Why not?” Nik turned away and began taking his damned tools out of his bag and laying them out on the table.

Prince Arel approached Kors. He saw Kors take the coverlet and pillow from his bed. And Kors shrank a little, expecting that Arel would now take them away from him, and even hit him for taking his belongings without asking. But Arel didn’t. In his commanding manner and slightly drawing out his words, he said to him:

“Wake up, Vitor, wash your face and don’t forget to brush your teeth,” the prince laughed, took from the bedside table a decanter filled with water, and, taking a big sip, forcefully splashed all this water from his mouth right into Kors’ face, dousing him with cold spray. Kors didn’t have time to cover himself. Arel’s actions were always abrupt and unpredictable for him, and he closed his eyes, quickly bending his head down, and tried to wipe his face with his palm.

Arel collapsed onto the bed, and Valentine immediately began to take off his master’s boots. When he finished, he got down on all fours, habitually pretending to be a bedside table.

“Valentine, get out of the room!” Arel ordered rudely.

And Valentine, hurriedly getting up and stretching his hand forward, walked a little hesitantly towards the door. It was noticeable that, being limited by a leather strip pulled low over his eyes, he could still poorly navigate in this room.

Kors wiped himself with the covers and said as indifferently as he could:

“Arel, your jokes are stupid,” of course, he was very unpleasant, but he tried not to show it.

Arel constantly humiliated him. “He will finish me… finish me. He’s going to torment me,” thought raced through his mind, but Kors tried to pull himself together.

“You know, prince, your act is the level of a bully in elementary school, nothing more. In my school, I remember, there were a couple of these jerks who, in their opinion, “had fun”. I quickly put them in place. I don’t answer you, Arel, only because I myself voluntarily agreed to endure this… training.”

“I didn’t go to school,” Arel said, and affectionately tickled Kors with his invisible fingers under his chin, stroking his throat.

Kors froze, and Arel laughed contentedly and let him go.

“Unfortunate, you were even deprived of this smallness,” Kors said through force, “your tyrant father kept you in your castle as in a prison — without friends, without communication with other children.”

Arel lit a cigarette:

“Vitor, do you remember how you threatened me that you would make me your slave?”, he suddenly said, “remember?”

Kors remembered. Strongly worried about getting a reflection of his actions from Nik, he completely forgot about Arel. Yeah, it was very thoughtless — to threaten him then like that.

“You promised me to cut something out of my ass, so that I could no longer squeeze it, and so that all the shit would fall out of me. Some restraining muscles. Well, remember!”