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.