Chapter 7

"Where are you hiding your torture chamber? Veodia, Gilwok? " shouts Leo violently.

"There's too many to count!" gushes the old member in a panic.

"Where are you holding Felicity?"

"Who?"

Leo eyes sees red as his dragon, Ryluth, crashes into the roof breathing fire on the people inside. He rushes upstairs to meet his pet, and throws the hostage onto the dragon's saddle and flees.

Ryluth was raised by Leo, and only responds to his master. Adorned in black plated armor with reptilian brown eyes, it is truly a glorious creature.

In a strikingly beautiful garden within Avalon's estate,

...where Peruvian lilies outlines the stone borders in a mixture of yellow-gold and pink, blended with tall lavender catmint flowers. Atticus, the noble wizard, very tall, with a beard that reaches to his feet, is walking and conversing with The Prince. His nose stuffed with the scent of lilacs. His soul overflowing with arrogance.

"...mainly inherited guilt, I suppose. One cannot escape the demons in their bloodline. Especially in Oglolor. They have more than their share," Atticus shares pompously.

"Hmm, and so the manor must be very empty even desolate. If I were to cough, it would sound like an avalanche," responds The Prince.

"Think bigger than that my Prince,"

"An earthquake perhaps?"

"Not in terms of catastrophic, but emotionally. She hung herself while carrying."

"To be honest, Atticus, this story will only further my problem with insomnia. How did we land on such a dreadful topic to begin with?"

"You wanted to hear about a family more plagued than your own, my lord."

"Have you items on your person? Mother claims that you know full well, my circumstances."

"Explain the visions once more."

The Prince and Atticus stop walking through the courtyard and end at a lavish patio. They sit on the chairs. The Prince exhales as if preparing to blow a trumpet. He sulks forward, leaning into the table on his elbows, and gazes up at Atticus. Looking like a child confessing to writing on the walls.

"Every night, since father's injury, before I sleep, I see a demon. It's in a human-like form with horns and red eyes akin to Leoviglid. Though I feel no fear of the demon, he simply intrigues me with visions of carnage, dismemberment, incest. Frequently I see my mother naked, ravaged by other demons who resemble werewolves. Sad to say, even by myself at times. It becomes more vivid and extended as the night goes on, and the part that's raising the eyebrows on the others is that I'm wide awake, staring into the sky on my balcony when the visions are occurring," The sting of telling the truth feels good to him.

"Sleepwalking is very common, my lord."

"That's the thing Atticus, I'm not sleep. I simply stand up, on my own will, walk to the balcony and look up. But there is no sky, just the demon, laughing, and mocking me. He replaces the stars, moon, and clouds, with the visions. When trying to explain it, I sound like the antics of a mad man."

"So you're in control of your body? Why not simply stay in your bed?"

"I tried that after the ninety-second day, and the demon walked into my bedroom chamber. Without words, he led me back to the balcony. I attempted to speak to it, but it only fueled my idea that..."

"...that you may be losing your grip on reality," chimes in Atticus.

"When was the last time you've slept, and how long?"

The Prince sits up and looks sincerely into the Wizard's eyes. Telepathically sending the message 'Believe me'.

"I passed out during a siege in Veodia. I was out for a little under an hour. When I awoke in the midst of battle, I fled and was nearly killed. That was the first time I slept in over nine days. Only through fatigue does my body replenish in slumber. My kingdom is losing faith in me, and I am losing faith in my sanity."

"Sounds like traumatic stress brought on by the atmosphere in which this Kingdom is headed. Though hallucinatory in description, this may well be more normal than you think. When you're Mother described it, I was sure you had gained a mental illness, schizophrenia perhaps, or worse."

"Well, Atticus, she's not too far off. It's been one hundred and fifty six days, and now, I see the demon all the time. Even during this conversation...he's waving to me in the courtyard near the roses."

Atticus looks shocked, and peers over his shoulder to only see the rose bed and nothing more. He slowly turns back, and glances at the Prince hesitantly.

"Have you spoken to this...demon? Or hallucination?"

"...yes, Atticus. More frequently now than before," responds the Prince, shame in his tone of voice.

Atticus takes a hard gulp and reluctantly places his hand on the Prince's shoulder.

"The potion I brought with me, powerful in dosage, is for people, like you, suffering from insanity. So, with that being said, taking it, and not being ill can result in shattering side effects, my lord. I do pity you. The king...was a great man. Saved my life."

"I will use my judgment. If I feel at any point, that I cannot handle my own mind, the potion will be ingested. Thank you dearly, mainly for your discretion in this matter."

"Perhaps the 'vision' is you telling yourself something. Is there a message or common theme, my lord?"

"The only string in this message thread is that of unspeakable malice, and the sexual fantasies of a pervert."

"I'll see what I can do for you, my king."

Atticus exits, and the Prince sees Leo in the distance kneeling near a crystal blue pond within the exuberant garden. Coy fish swim about peacefully. Teardrops land above them like rain, as they are falling from Leo's face. The Prince walks over and places his hand on his shoulder, but Leo jerks it off him. He isn't looking to be consoled, just to weep. He's held his composure long enough.

"Do not cry we will find her."

Leo sinks his head and continues to cry.

"She's pregnant."