He wrote again: “He deceived you. Run before it's too late.”
“Gods! Why are you so stubborn?! Why can't you come to an agreement when it so happens that you are sharing one body? Yes, I understand you hate him because he possessed you. But he himself told me that the Demon world is full of restrictions and orders. And each Demon follows the instructions of a higher Demon. He was simply ordered. He is as much a slave as you, in a strange body and in a strange world, and… He is not so bad, and sometimes he is very cool, this Demon of yours, and quite fair. Why were we able to make friends with him, but you did not? Let's try together, it will only make everyone better.”
Nikto wrote, “He took your souls. I'm sorry.”
“Why are you so stubborn?!” Karina screamed in despair. “I'm trying to save you!”
Nikto with a sigh ran his hands over his face, hair, pulling them back, and wrote: “What is the date today?”
This question always knocked Karina out of her rut. She was horrified only by the thought that he was living in fits and starts, wasting days, months, and maybe years. Now she understood why he seemed younger to her: probably, if you put everything together, he lived in consciousness not for twenty-five years, but much less.
“How do you feel when he is completely in you?” She asked quietly.
And he shook his head and wrote, “Nothing.”
“Like you fell asleep on Friday and woke up on Monday?”
He turned away, he didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to listen to her. And she only had an hour. What to do?
She sat in confusion, and her brother also sat with his back against the wall, and was silent. It looked like this was his favorite pastime. Maybe he really was mentally retarded, as Arel said. Arel knew him better than anyone, now she understood it. And now she respected the prince for that. For insight and fearlessness.
“Nik?” She called, finally realizing that he didn’t intend to continue the conversation and fell into his favorite stupor. He shuddered, he responded to Nik.
“Nik, he left for only an hour. Do you want a cigarette? Or wine? Feel the taste for yourself.”
He shook his head.
“Maybe… “restorative”?” She asked carefully. And he again shook his head negatively, then he thought about it and wrote: “Water.”
She got up and poured water from a jug, gave it to him, put it in his hand, he took a few sips, and the water ran down his chin. The paralyzed side of his face didn’t move. He wiped the water off with his hand. The hand also moved badly.