"But upon further consideration and as you so aptly pointed out, even twice, tonight is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so... please pour us a drink."
Miron turned to his persecutor.
"What my friend, though I sometimes wonder, is trying to say so clumsily is that a little alcohol might not harm us. In any case, its action will be nothing compared to what will happen soon enough."
"I recognize you so well there, young prodigy."
Eyes still fixed on the young orphan, Sirkol glowed and reached out to a corner of the room. At once, a swirl of black and dusty clouds appeared, from which emerged an abominable and nauseating figure. A sort of bald being whose dry and whitish skin contrasted terribly with his eyes, his mouth, and his suit as black as the night that his creator loved so much.
Constantly surrounded by this moving envelope of suffocating clouds, he went to kneel before Sirkol. The latter spoke to him in an unknown language that Miron, strangely to his amazement, understood perfectly.
"Pour some wine on those miserable little parasites. The worst there is."
"Yes, master."
"I wonder what he said to that horror," Kei asked, grunting in horror.
Miron did not respond to his friend, nor did he even make the slightest gesture that might have made the dark mage or anyone else understand his understanding of the language and the discussion that had just taken place. He waited and watched, feeling horribly helpless. The devout servant promptly did so and opened his rib cage with a terribly dry sound, revealing several bottles of different kinds, shapes and colors - though all dark, arranged in perfect order. Kei almost fainted from the macabre sight and the foul smell that was spreading and choking the room more and more.
But thanks to his disgusting magic, the servant astonished them even more by inserting his hand further inside his large and foul trunk, to take out an exceptional bottle of a suspicious purplish blue, engraved with signs of obvious meaning.
Then, reaching in, he uncorked the bottle and poured it into the glasses of the two competitors, delicately chiseled gold masterpieces. The liquid had a dark color ranging from red to indigo.
After serving the two boys, the servant gave a sardonic smile to Miron, then walked away. The latter, looking at the sadly glowing liquid, took his cup and drank, never taking his eyes off Sirkol. He slowly swallowed the terrible liquid, knowing that he would never forget the taste.
After seeing his friend drink the disgusting beverage without batting an eyelid, Kei gathered his courage and in turn brought his cup to his lips.
"If Miron thinks we should drink it, then I will drink it. I will swallow this horror without fear to the last drop!"
Miron noticed his gesture and turned back to his comrade with an imperious expression that forced this one to immediately put his glass down without dipping his lips in it.
"Uh, given the situation, I think I'll err on the side of caution and pass."
And he curled up in his seat and didn't move, obviously trying to make himself forget.
The two sides resumed their confrontation.
"Well Miron, what can you tell me about the taste of your first drink?"
Which, by the way, should be your last. But the director put no words to this second, yet distinct, part.
"Nothing exceptional. I smell the taste of blood, obviously stored for a long time in a damp, slimy place, and probably consciously cursed by you."
"I'm glad to see you're still so perceptive. I was not wrong in choosing you for tonight's event, and to elevate your motivation to the highest level, I did not forget to bring with you your most loyal lackey, your own Kolof," he added, pointing at Kei with a visibly contemptuous finger, "so that you will be perfect in fulfilling your assigned role and the show will succeed beyond all others. So, in conclusion, are you satisfied with your meal, did you find it good?"
"Yes, good to die for."
Sirkol reached out and stroked Miron's hair.
"What ingenuity in that rigid box. I hope you don't disappoint us at the moment of truth."
Miron sketched a falsely pleasant smile.
"Don't worry about anything, dear master, I won't disappoint you. But even without all that, I would at least have done it as a prize for this wonderful dinner my friend Kei and I have never had before, and especially not forgetting the various treatments we have undergone since the beginning, as well as for all the first times I live today. And you, more than anyone, know that everything has a price, don't you?"
They faced each other mercilessly in an exchange of glances. A chill wind rose and blew forcefully into the room. Sirkol narrowed his eyes, which became almost glassy as he looked at the child prodigy. His blue cloak with white fur floated in the air, a powerful, evil aura enveloping him. Despite some legitimate fears, Miron did not lower his eyes, on the contrary, he accentuated his sovereign vision, which in spite of himself aroused the admiration of his enemy. After an almost indefinite period of time of nail biting on the part of Kei and loss of sweat from all his pores, the head of Athok finally calmed down.
"Yes, I know that. Then I'll see you later, Miron. In the meantime, I hope you have a good time."
The dark wizard smiled strangely at them, then walked away, his cadaverous servant on his heels, slowly disappearing into the sea of foul and sinister clouds.
Miron and Kei followed their movements until they disappeared completely behind a huge magical portal carrying the foul mist.
ns 15.158.61.52da2
