Arel, standing nearby and holding his horse by the bridle, as usual, silently listened to their conversation. Smiling slightly, he raised the flask of the unclean to his lips, taking a good sip of it.
“Nik,” Kors continued, “I think you’re doing the wrong thing. You are going crazy from your supposedly limitedness in this body. You have too much pride and no humility. Rather, you completely misunderstand him, you confuse humility with humiliation.”
“As if you understand!”
“Yes, I understand.”
“And, of course, impeccable Vitor Kors, who knows and understands everything!”
“At least I try. I am walking this path. I made peace with Lis, and I understood him. And you continue to mock and humiliate him, yes, then you allow him to hit you on the head, but this is not humility! This is a perversion! And I realized that the half-blood is no worse than me, that he is the same! He’s a man too! And we are equal. And you – no! You, Demon, don’t want to accept the fact that you are the same as us!”
“You are mice!”
“And your wings are now black! And broken. Your wings were broken, I felt it and I was very scared. What is Bustwich?”
“World of Shit, nothing special,” Nikto answered, to Kors’ disappointment, rather indifferently, “just World of Shit, like everything else.”
“What is happening to you?!”
“Nothing,” Nikto shrugged, “nothing happens to me.”
“Do you understand that you are bad at performing tasks and your Missions?”
“So what? Oh, yes, that’s what you said to Arel for ten years. He tried and did. He tried for you, but you stopped loving him!”
“Like your Father God? He disowned you, fell out of love and severely punished you, depriving you of your voice and eyes. You don't have your own voice, you wheeze. And no eyes. They say that the eyes are the mirror of the soul, instead of eyes you have empty glass!”
“What? Oh, spare me this. It's just ridiculous,” and Nikto put his finger to the mask at the level of his mouth, turning it slightly diagonally.
“Arel was unworthy of my love,” said Kors.
“However, you fell in love with him again, but only when he chucked in!”
Kors looked at Arel, who, as before, stood at a distance and was clearly not going to take part in the conversation.
“Arel, why did I stop loving you, what do you think?” Kors asked.
“Because I became dirty,” oddly enough, but Arel answered and drank from the flask again.
“Why did I love you again?”
“Because you have become as dirty as I am,” said the prince. He smiled the indulgent smile of a sir, showing Kors the slightly chipped edge of one of his front teeth.
“Everything is simple for the prince,” Kors grinned, “give me a drink.”
Arel silently handed him his flask. Kors took a sip of the strong unclean moonshine:
“Fuck, what a shit! What the hell are you always shoving in yourself!” He lit a cigarette to interrupt the unpleasant aftertaste:
“Addict and drunkard, it will all end badly. And I want to help you, fallen Angel. Help! Only you bury yourself deeper and deeper, but you have to try and start to change your life and your attitude towards it and people! That is why you feel bad, that you are moving in the wrong direction and on the wrong path! You are doing good deeds! After all, you are doing them! You have saved so many people from slavery in the Western colonies. You destroyed the Farm. In the Black City, you helped a lot of people. Now we are fighting the red invaders. You are trying to somehow remake our world, bring it to a better place. And people aren’t mice or leather shit bags, are they?”
“Vitor, you are a leather bag full of words. You are a leather bag too full of words. Why would you care about my welfare? Tell me also that you are worried about your son.”
“And for the son, and for you!”
“Why for me? Are you afraid that if I poorly perform tasks, your Mission will fail and you will not become the king of black?”
“Is this my Mission?”
“Don't you want it?”
“I don’t even know what I want and what my Mission is. Maybe it’s about getting you out? Help you?”
“To set on the path of the true dirty Demon?”
“You need support.”
“You said yourself that I’m finished.”
“I believe that the point of no return has not yet been passed.”
“Did you get Arel out? Have you raised him?”
“I did my best! And helped him a lot!”
“Taught him to suck well? I agree that this skill is very important in this life.”
Kors grimaced.
“Unfortunately, there is no merit here, this talent was innate in him.”
Nikto just shook his head.
“I know where to start,” Kors continued, “you need to cut back on your medication, that’s for sure. You inject yourself every two hours, and then, of course, you are hard hit by the withdrawal. I tried it and I know what I'm talking about.”
“Oh, what did you try there, Vitor? Like a girl who drank a glass of wine and thinks she understood everything about alcohol. It’s funny! Do you want to try ‘black water’?”
Kors’ face changed:
“No.”
“Well, then don't give a fuck.”
“Follow the culture of your speech, this is also important. Watch your appearance. Heal! You have hepatitis! You healed Lis and removed all his scars. Do the same with your face and body! And then you will have intelligent thoughts. Not like this, when you barely open your eyes in the morning, and immediately rush for a drink and a syringe, and let the day pass as it should, but go to wash, comb your hair, eat normally. Plan everything and strictly follow the plan, don’t go to your unclean ones in the evening, but be sober at least once.”
“And read a book?” Nikto said and laughed.
“You would have achieved more if you listened to my words. Once you are in a human body, live according to the laws of people and the rules for the normal functioning of the body. Respect and love it. You seem to intentionally force your brain with substances, you want to kill yourself, and then what? They will, as Lis says, ask you. What will you tell your higher overseers: “The body died, it is not my fault that I couldn’t complete your tasks!” Yes? It is foolish to hope that they will believe you. You will go back to your world of shit!”
“I'll take you with me next time,” Nikto said.
“Yes please! I'm not afraid of anything anymore! Even there I will find a way to organize an acceptable space around me.”
“Arel, do you hear? Vitor will teach everyone there how to live properly!”
“He will be in charge there,” Arel answered.
“Why are you like that?!” Kors shouted, unable to bear it.
“What?!”
“Spoiled! I love you with all my heart! You are like my son! You are my son too! I want the best! It hurts me to see you destroy yourself. I know that you are capable of more! And you trample and trample my feelings!”
“Vitor, you liked my Limit, you were there for the first time, and you liked it immediately.”
“I liked it. And I don't mind relaxing, resting and playing. I am not saying that I am perfect. But business before pleasure.”
“Exactly,” Nikto said. “We have sailed up.”
He fell off his back from the side, and, so inhumanly resting his palm on the wooden flooring under his feet, pushed off with force, rising. He walked over to his Unclean Power, inserting his foot into the stirrup, jumped into the saddle. The horse danced under him, and the raft under his hooves too.
“Hey!” Kors shouted, grabbing the railing to stay on his feet.
Unclean Power, having made an incredible jump, almost without a running start, jumped the distance to the coast in one fell swoop, shaking the ferry even more.
“You motherfucker! You will knock us over! Insane!”
Turning to the hail, Nikto, for a moment, turned Power around, putting it on the hind legs, and then, without answering, hitting his steep sides with his feet, he directed the horse at a gallop along the hillside up to the abandoned village. After him, Arel also immediately jumped into the saddle, and, without waiting for the ferry to finally land on the shore, he forced the horse to jump, whipping up his lash and loudly shouting a command. And only Kors, swearing and wiping the drops of spray from his clothes, waited until the raft moored to a small pier, and neatly brought his horse back, holding onto the reins. He secured the ferry, tied it up, and, getting into the saddle, headed for Riverside, having long lost sight of both Nikto and Arel.
4
The house
Kors drove slowly along the main street of an abandoned, dead village. There was deathly silence here and there was not a single living soul. Tol’s soldiers transported people to Crimson Rock. Some peasants of Prince Arel, who had recovered from typhus, refused to cross the river and left Riverside, returning to the Estate. In the evening twilight, ruined houses looked longingly at Kors with empty eye sockets of broken windows, and Kors felt the heavy atmosphere of hunger and suffering that had reigned here quite recently. He seemed to hear the drawn-out groans of people dying in agony from everywhere, and he was haunted by an unconscious feeling of despair and hopelessness. Or were they the sounds of the wind rushing in hysterical gusts through empty lanes? This place was cursed, Kors thought. He approached one of the houses he recognized. Here he used to play “the fool” with his son and prince Arel. Then he had fun. It seemed that it was in another life, and Kors was different, also from another life. He was free, cheerful and confident. He was himself and was not defiled or touched. How dignified, proud and calm he was then! Absolutely confident that he was in complete control of the situation and nothing bad could happen to him. He was the commander of the true blacks, an unquestionable authority. He was their faithful companion and friend. He looked good and looked boldly into the future. He fearlessly approached the Demon, studying him with curiosity and not even knowing how it would all turn out. He was amused by the way the Demon scared over Arel, then Kors couldn’t even imagine, did not even admit the thought that something similar could happen to him. Not a single doubt or premonition of danger crept into his soul. He was so presumptuous! Just a fool, confident in his righteousness and infallibility.
Kors dismounted near one of the houses and climbed the porch. Here he once stood and smoked before the beginning of a meeting of commanders. And Nikto that evening first opened his face in front of people, having arrived without a mask. He was so handsome. “Kors, don't smoke. Everything will be fine,” Nikto told him. “Yes. Sly Demon, you got me through. You winded round my little finger like I was a naive child”. Kors went into the room, there was still a table, and on it lay a crumpled dusty tablecloth. He sat down in his place, just as he sat then, during the meeting. He just sat blankly, as if hearing the voices of his officers. Nothing could be returned. He couldn’t go back to that moment and do everything differently, replay, stay free. How good it was for him then, but he realized that only now. He didn’t value it then. He didn’t appreciate freedom, because it was a natural state for him, a familiar sensation, like the air you breathe and you don’t notice it until your throat is squeezed. And how thoughtlessly he gave the most valuable thing, only later realizing what it was like to breathe with permission, breathe because you were graciously allowed to do so, and to be not a person, but a thing. “Arrogant fool!” Blinded by his pride and sense of power, which turned out to be only an illusion! His whole life collapsed overnight. He understood that the beginning of this fall began long before Riverside, but here, as it seemed to him, it took final shape. At what point did he make this fatal turn in the wrong direction?
“I don’t understand why you are protecting this boy like that? Son of the Devil, here's your time! I must confess that I didn’t think he looked so much like a girl!”
“What?!”
“The Son of the Devil is a pretty blonde with blue eyes. I have never seen white male half-bloods live, only female slaves. But it turns out that they are all the same! And guys are like girls, they are the same.”
“Crassus, I will kill you!”
“Vitor, stop it! I need to tell you something urgently. Very important, confidently. Let's go freshen up… I need fresh air, it's stuffy here. Vitor! Calm down, what are you doing?! Don’t be silly! What's the matter with you?!”
“What's happening? You are crazy?! What are you doing?!”
“Nothing! Everything is fine!”
“You started smoking again! You don't come to sit with us in the evening. I saw his unclean horse at your camping tent, he stood there until morning. Kors, I have known you for a long time, I know your preferences. This white half-blood is very similar to Iness, I paid attention to this today. Do you see familiar features in him? Yes? Are you crushing on him?”
“What?!”
“And judging by the looks he throws at you, he also reciprocates you, however, it just doesn’t surprise me, but you?! Vitor, what are you doing?”
“What looks does he throw at me? What are you making up, Varah?”
“Don’t show your relationship so clearly. Don’t stand up for him so openly! Do you have love with him?”
“I don’t blame you,” Kamiel tried to cheer him up somehow. “The boy is really cute, nice features, though not tall and march.”
“What?! Gods!”
“Do what you want with him, but in secret. Please, not so openly! Don’t embarrass yourself! Vitor, you ruined your reputation in the city. I don’t believe in all these stories of naive commoners from Lower. The Son of the Devil, who opened a portal to the catacombs of the prison dungeon. This is all bullshit! You helped him escape! You lost his position because of him, came to him here! You help him! Vitor, what are you doing, are you crazy?”
“Yes. I just went crazy and derailed my life.”
“For a young boy?”
“He is already twenty-five years old.”
“So what? He could be your son, Vitor!”
“It’s terrible, right?”
“No. Just don’t advertise it so clearly! Just as you didn’t advertise your relationship with the prince.”
“Damn! Have you all already guessed?”
“No, but after you began to protect him so much… and you should have seen your face at the meeting when Crassus called him a cripple. You started to shake. You were ready to kill Crassus, I know you and I know what your face is when you want to kill. Of course, everyone was surprised and began to think too much. By the way, unlike you, he made no sign. It's good, he doesn't give you up.”
“He doesn’t give me away.”
“What?”
“So they say.”
“Vitor, stop it!””
“Varah, I'm lost. I'm lost…”
It got completely dark, and the sky was clouded with low black clouds. The wind intensified, already clearly howling in the cracks. Kors left the empty house, listening to his feelings, so that, like a beast, like a faithful dog, he could smell where his Master was. They were further away, at the edge of the village, near the forest. Exactly where the camp of the uncleans used to be. Kors spurred his horse, trying to drive as quickly as possible through the houses where his officers and himself had once lived. He no longer wanted to remember anything, because it was unbearable and only agitated and depressed him. Silently he entered a low rickety house, where a candle barely glowed on the table and an open bottle stood. Everything as usual.
“Here he is. Finally!” Said, displeased, Prince Arel, seeing him. “Well? Have you walked enough?”
Kors silently looked up at him, and Arel opened the door to the adjacent room for him:
“Come here.”
Kors doomedly walked deep into the house, where he was shown. They went into a room that apparently had previously served as the master's bedroom. There was devastation here, and there was a large, rickety bed without legs, with broken vertical poles at the edges, which were once intended to support the canopy. Now there was nothing: no canopy, no pillows, no blanket – only a dirty mattress, from which a fat rat, the true mistress of this room, slowly jumped off.