The Mist and the Lightning. Part V

It was a bright sunny summer day. He understood this and felt, and at the same time he knew that now it was not summer at all, but only the beginning of spring, and he could not be there, on the Lower City, and even on a summer day. And yet he was there.

Arel like a mole slowly walked an unknown destination, all the while keeping a hand on the walls. The houses here stood close to each other, and when one house ended, the next one started – it helped him. Several times he pressed against the saving wall, letting the horsemen pass by. They flashed in his mind as completely indistinguishable silhouettes, vague shadows, and he rather heard their approach and therefore pressed into the wall than saw them. And yet, despite all the precautions, he nearly fell a couple of times, his legs did not obey him any less than his eyes. Gods, he was lame! “All this only seems to me! It only seems! It seems to me that I am Nikto! I am he!” – thought Arel, with a kind of horror and at the same time delight.

It was so weird. The whole world around was different, it was his world and at the same time not his, completely alien. But this is probably even more attractive. His body also became different, denser, heavier, wider at the shoulders. A very strong body, but some kind of clumsy, it didn’t seem to work, because it needed “water”, “water”, “water”, “water” …

Now he felt that he had not eaten or drunk for a long time, but these feelings were somewhere in the background. Perhaps his body needed it, but the brain did not care. His brain was empty. No thoughts, feelings, emotions, just some echoes of thoughts, vague fragments that he could not catch and realize. And sheer indifference. Where is he going? What for? Arel did not know. Did not understand. And he didn't care. When he was himself, he always knew what he needed or at least he thought he knew. He knew where to go and why. What he has to do. He always went somewhere, toward a goal, did something, or did not, but also thought about it, at the same time already thinking what he would do

next, what he would do tomorrow, and what he must do. And that he had to do necessarily, but did not. And only now he understood how all this knowledge weighed and limited him.

His legs were confused, he had never walked so slowly in his life, and vague spots around him were frightening. He did not see what was happening, and it was dangerous. And if they attack him? Strangely, these thoughts did not cause any emotions, just as the thought that he was hungry and dying of thirst. Such aloofness in Arel caused some kind of incomprehensible pleasure, some kind of perverted sense of freedom. He probably still fainted for a while, as if falling out of this continuity, and then regained consciousness and realized that it was dark in the street and he could see better! And he hears nearby the murmur of water.

Arel made the sound and soon found himself in a small courtyard, and almost in the middle of the courtyard he saw a well, and he went to him. He didn’t look for water on purpose, it just happened that at that moment he caught a well. He didn’t say to himself: “Oh, here’s the water, now I’ll get drunk, then I have to decide what to do next, where to spend the night, where to get food.” So would say Arel. But he wasn’t Arel. He never said anything to himself. It was not important.

"Hey! Hey!” – he heard a shout and looked up. It was a woman. "Do not come here!" – she waved her hand in his direction. “Don’t’ waste the water! Damned tramps! Children, run, call your father from the shop!

Tell him, the tramp wants to pollute the water!”

Small obscure shadows, which he had not noticed before, flashed past, they made some screams. Strangely, he understood everything she said, but somehow, he did not understand how he used to understand. He

understood it by heart, not by reason. He understood the meaning, for him all merged together – the words, her gestures, the expression on her face.

“Don’t close the water!”

And he stopped. Perfect indifference continued to own it. Would Arel have abandoned his attempts like that? Is it not worth it to teach this sassy? How dare she not let him to come to the water! Some kind of poor thing, a commoner. How dare she stop him, prince! But … But he was not a prince! And he sank heavily on the ground, disobedient fingers in coarse leather gloves clumsily straightened the strands of hair that had come out from under the hood, hiding them. And this young woman stood nearby and carefully and waryly looked in his direction, apparently ready, if need be, to protect her well from an uninvited guest. He did not hate her. Did not feel resentment. Maybe just a slight desire. He wanted her. I wanted to stupid, just knock down and fuck. Anything more. Just because she was a woman. And yet he did not budge. He understood that it was impossible to just take her and fuck her like that. That she is afraid of him, and she has protectors who she will call for help.

With unblinking fingers, he only straightened the hood of his raincoat, pulling him even more onto his face. However, there was no face. Only now, to his surprise, Arel felt and realized that he was in a mask, uncomfortable and tough. It is strange that he had not noticed this before, and for some reason, without knowing why, he experienced relief from this. Relief from the fact that his face is closed, and this woman will not be able to see him. Relief and comfort, all feelings were too fleeting and shallow, then again indifference. Involuntarily, Arel thought that probably some animal could think and feel this way.

“Who are you?” – the girl asked a little surprised, as he thought. “Half- breed, is it? Runaway?” It seems that she wasn’t so cruel as he decided at first, because, having scooped some water in a bowl, she put it near him: “Drink. Just do not go to the well."

He reached for the proposed water: the bowl was dirty, maybe it was meant for a dog? However, he did not care, he lifted the mask from the bottom and pressed his lips to the cold, scalding water. Drinking was uncomfortable. His mouth was as broken as everything else, like legs and eyes. On the one hand, the lips did not move, and therefore icy water flowed on his chin, flowing under his clothes. Making the last sip, he strongly threw back his head and realized that she’d seen that. She saw the part of his face. His mandible is torn from the right side. He saw her eyes widen, she recoiled, apparently already regretting that she had given him water. And at this moment other people, men, appeared.

That's all he could say about them, they were lit by the last rays of the setting sun, and he could not see them. But there was no fear, nothing again.

“What happened?” – one of the men asked. He was breathing heavily, and a stick was squeezed in his hand.

“Here it is. He wanted water. I was afraid that he would pollute our well. Do you see the way he dressed? And I was right, under his mask there is some sort of tripe on his face. Maybe a leprosy or a plague! If only he did not turn out to be plagued!”

They recoiled from him, he understood everything, but for some reason did not feel the slightest desire to respond. Just tried to get up, but fell. And they bounced off him even further.

"Really sick!”

"I'm telling you! As soon as I saw him going to the well … Gods, Gods, for all goodness, protect us from the plague!”– the woman began to lament, sobbing. He really felt her fear.

"Hey, you! Get out of here! ”– the man swung his stick threateningly. Arel had a sword. Arel knew that a sword was fastened under his cloak behind his back, but he didn’t even try to get it, he didn’t even move.

And now this indifference, this desolation began to frighten him. It was necessary to act, but Nikto, in whose body he was, did nothing.

“He has white hair, see?!”

"Maybe half-breed?"

"Lost her mind! There is no such hair, he is probably gray … "

"And the half-breeds?"

"He is gray! Hey, old man, go to the temple and ask for alms there, but here you have no place!”

"But he does not look like an old man!"

"What shall we do?"

They huddled together, deliberating. He heard only fragments of their phrases: “Beggar? Old man? Maybe he fluent? Half-breed? Plague?

Infection".

And he got up. And tries to go away. And they, seeing how awkwardly he tightens his lame leg, recoiled from him even more.

They did not ask him, why? They were lost in conjectures, but it never occurred to them to talk to him. Didn’t they consider him a person too? Did he feel like a man himself? Same as these people? They were like in another world, as if behind glass, and he had no desire to break this barrier and become one of them. Their attitude towards him did not jar him, did not upset and did not excite. Arel would probably feel the same if a homeless dog banged him on the street. So what? He would immediately forget about it. These people were just as distant, alien and not worth the attention for him now. Just a given. It would be foolish to react to the dog; he was just as indifferent to the humiliation of these people. He did not consider anything; he simply did not notice him. So, he did not care what happens to him and around him.

And Arel suddenly felt uneasy. He must wake up! Wake up!Wake up! And it was not freedom! Imaginary freedom! It was a captive! And he is not Nikto! He is the prince of Arel! Prince Arel, who thinks, makes

plans and takes offense at people, because they are not indifferent to him and he is one of them! And he does not want to be different anymore!

“I want to be myself again!”

And he screamed.

Hard hands shook him, what was the strength in them! The iron bars of the lattice are expanded, if necessary. This is Nik.

“Arel?” – he asks in a calm, everyday voice, he has long been accustomed to the fact that Arel often jumps up screaming at night.

And as confirming that everything is as usual, Arel jumps out of bed, despite the dizziness, which makes it darker in the eyes.

Nikto fits to the side again, tucking the mutilated half of his face into the pillow, but does not close his eyes. His eyes glitter in the dark, and he watches Arel light the candles, fumble around the table, rattling the bottles.

"What are you looking for?"

"Food!"

"?"

"I feel bad! I need to eat! I need to put myself in order! I … I do not want, do not want to become like you!"

Nikto is yawning.

“I see,” – he says indifferently. Another Arel nonsense, well, he has long been accustomed to this.

"Heck! There is nothing here! Nik!"

"Arel, we have no food here."

“And when did you eat?”

“Yesterday, we ate …”

“Nik! You are hungry!"

Nikto laughs softly and says nothing.

"What did you eat?"

Nikto thinks for a second.

“Vegetables, I don’t remember the name, they were completely rotten,”

– he laughs again.

“Did you eat rotten vegetables ?!”

“The servants fired them; we all ate. And you too."

Arel makes a movement of the head, as if it drives away the annoying fly from itself.

“And I?”

“Yes.”

“And Enriki?”

“And Henrik.”

“Does he again inject himself with "water"?”

“Yes,” – Nikto replies, the illogicality of Arel questions does not bother him.

“I promised you the golden mountains when I took you to the team, promised profits, lands, slaves! And what is the result! Rotten vegetables!’

“Carrot.”

“What?”

“I remembered there were carrots, and …”

“Stop doing that! Stop it, Nik, I'm ashamed!”

“Take it easy. I picked up pretty well at Dim in the Colosseum.”

“Yeah! And he gave me everything!”

“Not all. To restore the streets, you need a lot …”

“Streets! The streets are eating everything! And my people are starving! I'm a crappy boss! And I am hungry! I need to eat! And have some coffee, do we have coffee? Or water at the worst!”

Nikto moves his lips slightly, as if uttering a new phrase to himself.

“I do not want to die! I was a living corpse now, a walking corpse! This is scary! I have to appreciate my body, take care of it! Control it! I need to eat! I want to eat!”

“Well, go and eat! Who keeps you up! Just do not yell here in the middle of the night!” – Nikto tries to lie down more comfortably, closes his eyes.

“It was scary! It is unbearable! I am human! I want to be a man! This is such a happiness; I did not understand! I need a wash! It stinks from me!”

Nikto opens his eyes again and lets out a sigh of fatigue.

“Is there water?” – Arel rushes into the adjoining room, rattles the jugs. “Nik! Call a servant, let him bring warm water!”

“Wash yourself cold, huh?”

“Are you kidding me! It is cold as ice!”

“Arel, go to hell!”

“Why is it so cold! Why not melted the fireplace! Call the servant!”

“What good, if there is no fuel.”

“Fuel?”

“Wood! Firewood! Coal, I don't know …”

“Okay! I do it myself! I'll go down and do everything myself! Here you will be bent without me from cold and hunger, and no one will lift a finger to at least do something!”

“I feel neither one nor the other, Arel …”

“I know! That scares me! I want to feel! I want to feel hunger, cold, everything! All manifestations and emotions! As a person, not as an animal!”

Nikto laughs.

“What wrong with you?”

“Nothing! Just stayed a bit out of my skin!”

“And in whose? Animal’s?”

“Not! Nik! I was you! And … And it is wrong if you live like this …”

“Another glitch, Arel …”

“I would be happy about that! Let it be just a bad coming, because if this is your life, then this is hell! Why didn't you say anything to them? Did not explain? Although yes, you didn’t really know the language, they would be even more scared, and your voice …”

“What explained? To whom?”

Arel rushes to him, snapping abruptly, squeezing his shaggy head in his hands, clinging to himself.

“To these assholes! They humiliated you! Gods! How I love you! Why – don’t know! Why do I love you so much?” – he kisses Nikto on the injured forehead, on the scar. “Poor, poor my being! My poor monster!

You are a monster, Nik, do you know about this? And I love you so much!”

Nikto meekly allows him to squeeze himself, squeeze in clumsy embraces, touch the scars.

Arel removes him from his face, gazing in the wavering light of candles, his gaze glides over the body, neck, chest, and arms, all painted black for good.

“What a horror,” – he says quietly and squeezes Nikto again in his arms. “What a horror to be like you!”

He suddenly abruptly pulls away, as another thought comes to his mind:

“Would you like to be like me? Do not cripple? Would you like to be me?”

“You are in my heart.”

“Yes! For sure! I live in you! And you in me! That's why I catch such parishes! Did you do this?”

“If there is something wrong about you, then I have nothing to do with it!”

“I believe you now, strangely enough, why would you put such memories in my head! I probably really caught them myself, I was there, on this street in Lower City, at this well!”

“Well?”

“Yes! I have never been on a plain, but if I come there, I will find this place! I swear it exists!”

“So, you were me?”

“Yes!”

“Well, you felt like a demon in human form, or obsessed?’ – in the voice Nobody reveals blatant sarcasm.

“Not! Heck! Not! But … But there was a lot of emptiness … There was enough space … for … maybe Enrique and the others are not so …’

Nikto covers his mouth with his hand.

“Enough! I do not remember any place, no well and no people, and I do not like it!”

Arel moves back even further.

“Maybe because you were not there! I was not you; I was a piece of that little man! That's why it was so awful! Gods! Poor, poor man! Not you! You just squeezed it out of your own body!’

‘That's it, go to hell! I was afraid that this would end! You wanted to be engaged in an economy, so go to servants and be engaged! And leave me alone! Leave me alone, the demon who settled in someone else's house! You see how great I am! See how good I am!’

“I see that is not very! The lodge did not suffer very little during the battle for it!”

“So, I will find a new one! Everything! Did you want to hear it? Heard? Now get out! Go, eat, you really have to take care of your body, it is still useful. And not to spoil it, like the others, it still didn’t lead to anything good and didn’t help them!’

Arel tries to laugh, turn the conversation into a joke. “Scare me on purpose? Yes? Nik? Sweet…”

“Sweet?” – a nasty smile is playing on Nikto's half-dead lips.

“Well, forgive me for those stupid words about a demon!” – Arel returns to the bed again, bows his head, trying to snuggle closer to Nikto.

Nikto removes his hands.

“You're … are you kidding me? Forgive me! Punish me! Fuck me! This is the only thing you need! Nothing else!”

“You still want in my house?”

“That’s all! Conversation is over!”

“Nik …”

“I remember you were very hungry?”

“I do not want it anymore…”

“Get out, Arel! Now go away!”

“I do not want!”

“I said go away!”

Are you ordering me?”

“Yes!”

“Like … like your slave?”

“Yes!”

Arel pulls away desperately, hands down.

“I … I am your slave, and where are the others, where is my Lis, Sguint- Eye?”

“Here, at the same time and check the rest! You can go now! I repeat for a long time! Should I get up?”

“No!”

And Arel trudges to the door:

“Do you love me?”

“Arel!”

“If it stays, I'll bring you some rotten carrots too …” and he, already laughing, jumps out, deftly dodging a bottle that has flown into him.

Arel was obedient, especially since he was actually hungry. Going down to the servants, right into the kitchen, and sitting at a huge and empty cutting table, he ate everything that was brought to him. Then, taking

two girls, he descended even lower into the cellars of the castle, to the hot springs, where there was warm water in the pool. Once so long ago that he himself did not remember this, she was fed directly into the rooms upstairs, once … He who had eaten himself almost fell asleep while the slaves washed, combed it and rubbed the skin with fragrant oil.

It was already light, but, rising to the top, Arel, to his surprise, heard voices. His friends talked loudly and played cards in the small living room upstairs, where he once entertained Nikto as a slave. Apparently, they never went to bed. The shutters on the windows were not removed, and twilight reigned in the room. The fireplace was caustically smoked by a brocade upholstery of a broken armchair, giving more stink than warmth. On the floor are lined up a whole battery of empty wine bottles. There were Lis, Sguint-Eye and Tol with Asa and a few more slaves, including Claire, Nikto’s slave. She also played cards. The whole company was drunk almost to insanity, and their skewed, sunbathing after a sleepless night face seemed sober Arel just wild.

“Fuck, stupid March! How do you distribute ?!”

He heard the voice of the Lis, and froze on the threshold. Listurned to Sguint-Eye, and Arel involuntarily shrank everything inside, he called him what he was called “black” cripples from birth, considering them to be harbingers of the degeneration and death of the “black” race. It was an insulting, derogatory nickname, and Arel never allowed it to be used against Sguint-Eye or Nikto.

The scythe did not hit the Lis, as one would expect, did not give him, as Tol would say, a rally, no. Without even changing his face, he slowly

collected the cards and began to hand them out again, and Arel hated Lis for that now.

Tol, as usual, bluntly barked:

“Who are you?”

“I am a half-breed, you moron! Half-bre-ed

"And what, the half-breed cannot be, well … they …"

“Fuck, you stupid, of course, can! But I am not!"

"And the hair?"

“What is wrong with my hair? I am a "red" half-breed, fucking how much times I need to explain, why I have such hair!"

“Tol, do you want to suck you so that you do not ask stupid questions and do not anger Mr. Atley Alice?” – asked Claire.

“And what's the point, your mouth will be busy with you, and not with him?” – Lis laughed.

Arel stepped away from the door, he didn’t go to them …

I watched them not out of interest, no. They were not interesting to me, I watched them rather from a sense of my own security. No matter how it was there, the instinct of self-preservation still worked. I had something to protect myself in case of need, and in spite of everything I could still stand up for myself! These bastards can't reach me! However, I soon became convinced that they were not going to touch me. They shunned me like a leper. I was lying in a corner on a roughly hulled trestle-bed, on a mattress soaked in my own blood, and it was as if I did not exist.

They did not even look in my direction. Scorned? Afraid? I dontknow. Believed that they are not affected. They did not need extra trouble.

Their problems were enough to even contact me! And I must give them their due, they reasonably thought, really it was not worth contacting me! Probably, it would be their will, they would get rid of me. I was just thrown to their cell after six months of a loner, and they had nothing to do but to accept this.Just to pretend that nothing is happening, that I am not there, that they do not take me for interrogation in the evening and do not bring me unconscious in the morning. No, I just do not exist.

Although, when I was dragged to them at the very beginning, they approached. I collapsed on the floor; I was in such a state that I don’t remember if they said anything. It seems that someone particularly intelligent said in a half-whisper: "This is the king's nephew, the apostate."

In fact, I am not the king's nephew, as everyone thinks. Some kind of family ties between us really exist, but not as close as attributed. Simply, people tend to simplify everything: a relative of the king younger than him by age is a nephew! Moreover, we are similar in appearance, as it is

unfortunate for me! It's just that all purebred blacks look alike. We have common ancient ancestors, whether they are not fine! Then they seemed to take me to this couch, to the farthest corner. At first, I was not up to them, but they, of course, could not help seeing all this. And although from time to time the doctor gave me infusions so that I wouldn’t be completely bent, anyway, I think it was not a very pleasant sight.

Probably, then they got used. They understood that I would not be bent, they would not let me, they would not let me go so easily. And then the toy finally got tired, they stopped dragging me out of the camera so often, I got a break, and I had the opportunity to think. And then I saw them. As I said, I paid attention to them first out of caution, well, and then simply out of interest.

They were from the nobility. Notable criminals who went to jail, what could be more stupid! However, for the most part, they were notable fallen scum. He brought one, already quite old, and I must give him his due, he did it quite competently and even fairly. The rest obediently obeyed him. There were about twenty of them. But not their leader attracted my attention, no. Among them, I soon began to allocate another. Probably just because he saw that he was as young as me.

He was the youngest of them. He never brought the gear and did not call on a date. He was quiet and always kept a little apart from everyone. I never heard his voice. Others didn’t humiliate him, but they didn’t say much either. I felt some kind of estrangement, some kind of boundaries between him and the others. When he took off his shirt, I saw that his back was wonderfully tattered with a whip, the scars were already healed. One of his eyes was always bandaged. At first, I waited that after a while he would take it off, but the days went by, and he still continued to remain in it, without taking off even for the night. And I decided that he was one-eyed. Despite his youth, he also had a lot to experience. And it brought us even closer.