The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

The room was in twilight, the shutters on the windows were tightly closed as always. On the nightstand next to the bed, a single candle was barely flickering in a gold but dirty and sooty chandelier. It flowed slowly over graceful, once shiny, now wax-drenched curved horns with cups for six more candles, now empty. Kors remembered that candlestick. Verniy once was cleaning it. It was a luxurious and beautiful item, especially when tall thin candles burned in it.

And Nik was sitting on the bed, and he wasn’t asleep. With his trousers unbuttoned, shirtless, he sat sideways to Kors, ugly hunched over and his head bowed low. He just sat, not moving, as usual, stretching his lame leg in front of him and slightly bending his good knee, and looked aloof, somehow sad, thoughtful and infinitely far from what surrounded him, from this whole world. His posture seemed unnatural and uncomfortable to Kors. “Like a broken toy” — involuntarily flashed through his mind, and Nik slowly turned to him. Kors saw his face, pale and still pierced, but it was no longer scarred. And Kors knew that these were not fantasies, not hallucinations of a man deprived of sight for a long time. He doesn’t think so, it’s for real! He could see Nik with his eyes closed, could see everything as it really was! He saw everything that was happening now in this room. And Nik looked at Kors, and he realized that Nik knew: Kors saw him!

Kors rushed forward, crawling towards the bed.

“Nik! I see you!”

And Nik reached out his hands to him and spun the bar out of his nose, taking it out and removing the shutters. Kors screwed up his eyes and began to rub them, feeling tears coming out of his eyes so treacherously from strong feelings.

“I saw you,” he whispered, “I could see you with my eyes closed!”

“Now you can see with your inner vision in the dark,” Nik said.

“Have I evolved? Have my eyes adjusted?”

“Yes,” Nik replied, “forgive me if that was cruel.”

“You did everything right!” Kors shouted. “It was me who acted like a stubborn idiot. I was angry at you. I need to ask for forgiveness! What can I do to make you forgive me?”

Nik shook his head.

“Nothing, everything is alright,” he unfastened the chain from the collar of Kors, “you are free.”

“And…and you won’t tie me to the post?” Kors asked apprehensively, but with obvious hope.

“No.”

“And can I clean myself up and get dressed?”

“Yes. There is a box of medicines on the table.”

“Can I heal the puncture?” Kors was very worried about his ruined face.

“Yes.”

Grabbing the box, Kors rushed to the bathroom. When he finally returned from there with a healed bridge of his nose, clean, combed and neatly dressed, he saw that Nik had not changed his position and was still sitting on the bed.

“Nik?” Kors called cautiously.

Nik raised his head and, looking at Kors, tried to force a smile.

“Nik, can I add some light?” Kors glanced at the candlestick.

Nik shrugged indifferently.

“As you wish…”

Kors roughly imagined where candles could be stored. He opened the closet, and next to the textbook, according to which Prince Arel once was learning the unclean language, under a notebook covered with clumsy handwriting, he found what he was looking for. He set the candles in the candlestick, replacing the almost burnt stub with a new one. Kors lit all seven candles at once, he wanted to get a good look at his son's face. Nik, it seemed, understood this and moved a little further on the bed.

“Nik! You look good! You no longer have a scar!” Kors exclaimed with genuine joy in his voice.

“A small trace remained, but in general, yes,” without any emotions, Nik agreed with him completely indifferently.

“Nik…”

“Thank you for the treatment.”

Kors sat down next to him:

“What happened to you? Why are you sad?”

“Everything is fine.”

“What can I do for you to make you feel better? Take my blood, my flesh, whatever you want! Just don’t be so miserable!”

Nik barely smiled out of the corner of his lips and did not answer.

“You miss your world,” Kors guessed. “Yes, I can’t help you return to your world, but I can do whatever you order in this world! What should I do? What?”

“Just love me,” Nik replied.

“I love you!”

“So, as you said, un… without… conditions?”

“I love you with unconditional love!” Kors shouted very sincerely. “I love you in any way! Both black and light! I was a fool when I got scared and threw you away! I was fool!”

“My daddy,” Nik said with some pride and smiled more cheerfully.

“How can you reconcile with your human part? How can you reconcile with this world?”

“No way. It’s all right, drink with me,” Nik got out of bed, went to the table and poured red wine into two glasses.