The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

“I wonder what Nik is doing there now?” Kors thought, and couldn’t resist:

“Verniy, what does the master do?”

“The masters are sleeping,” Verniy replied.

“Well, of course! What else can they do!” thought Kors and said:

“Verniy, shift your master from the floor, cover him with a blanket, take care of him.”

Verniy nodded.

“But only if he wants to, you understand.”

“Yes. But try! Don’t you care that your master lay down on the floor and might catch a cold?”

“I try to do my duty as best as possible, but I don’t have the right to tell him what to do,” Verniy explained, “DO YOUR OWN AND DON’T GO OUT OF YOUR OWN.”

“What a stupid dog,” Kors was indignant, “okay! But I hope you still love your master!”

“I love him,” Verniy agreed and left.

And Kors looked at the pile of clothes that the unclean one had brought him. “What's the point of dressing now? Change clothes?” He took his golden cigarette case out of his jacket pocket and turned the flat box sadly between his fingers.

Hike to the Ore Town.

“Vitor, take it.”

Nik tells him, and Kors looks up in confusion.

Nik is holding his golden cigarette case in his hand:

“I have put your favorite cigarettes in it.”

“My cigarette case?”

“Yes, you left it in our room a long time ago and completely forgot about it. You don’t need it anymore?”

“I need it,” and Kors holds out his hand, taking from Nik a flat gold 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.