He fell, no longer to the ground, but into the arms of darkness, and only the sound of erupting water from heaven connected him with reality!

Tan barely opened his eyes. The light was blinding to him. He grimaced in pain. And even the very contraction of the muscles on the face caused pain. He groaned slightly. How his face hurt.

Seeing that Tan woke up, the hospital's nurse immediately ran up to him and, putting her hands on her shoulders, quietly but affirmatively said: "You cannot get up, Mr. Mirra." You have a severe concussion, as well as a dislocated lower jaw, bruised ribs and kidneys. Tan made a heart-rending sound again.

– Where I am? He asked with a shiver in his swollen lips.

– You're in the hospital. You were brought here after the battle. Do you remember?

Tan was silent as if trying to remember what had happened in the past couple of days. He tried to collect all the books on the shelves in his library of the mind, which was smashed by Prince Argos. Then he sat up. His head was spinning.

“He’s stubborn,” said the sister, and forcibly pushed him back to the hospital bed. You only make it worse.

– I have to talk to General Swann, with the last of his strength Tan mumbled, after which he lost consciousness.

***

His father was sitting at a table in a huge oak armchair. On his right hand stood a servant, head bowed. And his back was guarded by two armed soldiers, the best of the best in their field. Dinner was already served with various dishes and treats. In the middle of the table there was a beautiful composition of berries and fruits, around which jugs of wine were dancing in an intricate pattern. Most of the candles were extinguished. Twilight has always been his father's companion. Flames leapt from a nearby fireplace, and the crackling of a burning tree echoed from the high walls of the castle. It was a hunting room with various trophies hanging on the wall. The muzzles of the slain beasts with glass eyes looked down on the arriving guest.

– Leave us! The king ordered and in one second they were left alone. He wiped his lips with a napkin, tossing it casually on the table. Then he got up and walked over to his son. Anger was what filled his eyes. Coming close and not looking away, he punched Argos' face with the back of his hand. From the blow on the prince's face, the skin turned red and a small bleeding scratch formed from the ring.

Argos opened his mouth, but before he could utter a word, Orm interrupted him: "I don't need any excuses from you now," he bellowed. Then he turned away and walked over to the fireplace, looking at the fire for a while.

–How could this have happened? without taking his eyes off the bewitching beauty of the flame, he asked.

– With all due respect, father, one way or another, I won! I showed them all what is the strongest race on earth!

– Anyway?! Turning slowly, he asked. An ordinary man, with ordinary weapons and ordinary protection, almost kicked your royal ass! You were wearing "Isar", your mother! And you dare to say something !?

– He is very well trained and strong. He's fast. I've never seen this. This warrior was in no way inferior to me.

– Oh, I didn't even notice! Orm said with undisguised irony, then turning away, he again drowned in his thoughts, absorbed in the sight of burning wood in the fireplace.

– Father?

– Yes?!

– Why did he look at you like that during the fight?

“That's interesting to me too,” said the king. Who are you, Athanasius Mirra? he asked the flame.

Argos was about to leave. But after a pause, he turned back to his father. “When will you be able to fully trust me, Father?