Prince Eric

Adam was still trying to wrap his head around the mind-blowing fact that he wasn't just in some weird dark place, but actually living as a spirit inside some kid.

The thought felt cold and heavy as he stared up at the huge, see-through screen floating in the darkness of his personal domain. The blurry image of the boy he'd glimpsed earlier sharpened, shifting like a camera lens finding focus, and dissolved into a completely new scene—one that screamed unbelievable wealth.

As Adam watched, fascinated, the scene settled, revealing the inside of a massive room. It wasn't just big; it felt grand, bathed in a soft, golden light that seemed to glow from everywhere at once.

Sunlight poured through tall, arched windows, illuminating incredibly detailed carvings on thick wooden pillars that reached toward the high ceiling.

These weren't just patterns; they looked like intricate scenes from myths or history, carved with amazing skill.

Hanging from the center of the ceiling was a giant chandelier, loaded with what looked like hundreds of crystals. They caught the light, scattering warm, glittering reflections across the polished wooden floor and the fancy furniture below.

Heavy, deep red velvet curtains, tied back with thick golden ropes, framed the windows, adding to the feeling of pure luxury.

Everything in the room—from plush armchairs near a huge stone fireplace to detailed tapestries on the walls showing battles or royal events—shouted money, power, and royalty. It looked like a king's private room straight out of a fantasy novel.

Adam's eyes widened as he took it all in. It felt bizarre, watching this super-fancy place from his own simple, dark space. This isn't just some mansion, he thought, his confusion mixing with awe. This place looks like a real palace. Whoever lives here must be actual royalty.

The image on the screen became crystal clear, focusing on the center of the room. There stood an enormous bed, easily big enough for four people, with tall, carved posts and draped in heavy, embroidered fabrics of deep blue and shimmering gold.

And sitting on the edge of this incredible bed was the boy. The boy Adam was supposedly trapped inside.

He looked about fifteen or sixteen years old. His hair wasn't dark and messy; it was a stunning, bright gold, like actual spun gold, falling in soft waves around his face.

His eyes, when he glanced around nervously, were the same striking golden color, though right now they were clouded with worry and held a deep, unreadable fear.

He was dressed simply, not in royal robes or armor, but even his plain tunic and pants looked like they were made of expensive, soft material, maybe silk, and fit him perfectly.

Even though he looked casual, there was an elegance about him. It was obvious, even without a crown, that this boy belonged in this palace room.

But the way he carried himself totally clashed with his fancy surroundings. He wasn't sitting proudly; his shoulders were slumped forward, his back hunched as if carrying a heavy weight.

His gaze was fixed on the complex pattern of the expensive rug on the floor, completely lost in thought. And radiating off him was a powerful feeling of fear—so strong that Adam felt an echo of it inside himself, like a cold knot tightening in his stomach.

It wasn't just seeing the fear on the boy's face; it felt like he could almost taste the kid's anxiety.

From inside his quiet domain, Adam watched every detail. It was more intense than watching a movie. He could see the slight shake in the boy's hands, clenched tightly in his lap.

He could almost hear the boy's shallow, quick breaths. He noticed the way the light caught the fine golden hairs on the boy's arm.

And, most unsettlingly, he could feel the boy's emotions – overwhelming fear, deep dread, and a profound sadness. This strange connection felt way too close, too intimate, and it made Adam deeply uneasy.

Who is this kid? Adam wondered, his focus locked on the golden-haired boy. Why is he living like this, surrounded by all this luxury, but looking completely terrified? What could possibly scare someone who lives in a palace?

The questions piled up, making his head spin. He couldn't stand the confusion anymore. Adam ripped his gaze away from the screen and turned sharply towards the ever-present blue system window floating nearby.

"System!" he demanded, his voice tight. "Is this him? Is this the boy? The one whose body I'm stuck in?"

The system paused for just a second, its blue light pulsing steadily. Then, new words appeared on the screen, calm and factual as always.

"Master, the sensory input is consistent. The consciousness generating this visual feed and the strong emotional signature matches the host body you currently inhabit."

Adam clenched his fists, feeling the faint buzz of his own power simmering just beneath the surface.

So it's true. I'm inside this specific kid. The confirmation didn't make it any easier to accept. It just felt stranger, more definite. He wasn't just in a body; he was in this body – a boy drowning in fear inside a golden cage.

He forced himself to look back at the screen, at the boy. He studied his face carefully. He looked so young, almost fragile despite the fancy clothes and striking features.

Underneath the obvious fear, Adam could see a deep sadness in his golden eyes, a sorrow that seemed too heavy for someone his age. As Adam watched, the boy let out a long, shaky sigh that sounded full of defeat.

Then, he started whispering to himself, his voice so low and trembling it was barely audible.

"I don't want to leave this room... I really don't want to go." He swallowed hard, his throat muscles working. "But... it doesn't matter. If I don't go out there myself, they'll just... they'll just drag me out anyway. They always do."

His voice trembled more noticeably on the last words. He quickly ran his hands through his perfect golden hair, not gently, but roughly, gripping his scalp as if the physical pain could somehow distract from the anxiety building inside him.

"Today..." he whispered again, his voice cracking. "Today's the day... I think... I might actually die this time. For real. It doesn't even matter that I'm a prince... that title means nothing to them, not for this. They won't show me any mercy."

Adam's eyes flew wide open. The word hit him like a physical shock. Prince? Did he just say... PRINCE? The idea seemed straight out of a fairy tale, but suddenly felt terrifyingly real.

He spun back around to face the system window again, almost tripping in his non-physical space. "System! Did you hear that? Did he just call himself a prince? Is that for real?"

The system responded instantly this time, its analysis clearly running in the background.

"Affirmative, Master. The host used the designation 'prince.' Cross-referencing available environmental data confirms this identity within the local social hierarchy. I am continuing to process information regarding his lineage, status, and the nature of his current distress."

Adam stepped closer to the floating blue screen, leaning in as if to pull the answers out faster. His voice was urgent. "Tell me what you know! Who is he? What's his name? What's happening to him? Why is a prince talking about dying?"

The system flickered slightly, indicating its processing was ongoing. "Master, comprehensive data is still restricted due to your current state and the previously mentioned containment field, the seal. However, preliminary findings identify the host as 'Eric.' Regarding his condition: this body possesses significantly low levels of innate magical energy, far below the expected baseline for individuals of his standing in this society. Furthermore..."

Adam prompted impatiently, "Furthermore? What else?"

"Analysis indicates his physical strength and overall constitution are also notably underdeveloped compared to his peers," the system stated flatly.

Adam frowned deeply, rubbing his temples. Eric... His name is Eric. He tried to absorb the rest. Low magic... weak body... Prince Eric.

"So... I'm stuck inside a weak prince?" he muttered aloud. This situation just kept getting worse. He was trapped inside royalty, but apparently a version that lacked the power or strength expected, especially when facing something dangerous.

He tried to connect the dots. Okay, so I'm some kind of spirit, sealed inside Prince Eric. He lives in a palace, but he's weak physically and magically.

And today, he has to face some kind of 'test' that he honestly thinks might kill him. It sounded like a complete nightmare – Eric's nightmare.

Then, that spark of an idea returned, stronger this time. If Eric was too weak or too scared, could Adam step in? Could he use the strange energy humming inside him?

"System," Adam asked again, his voice quieter now, more focused. "You mentioned the seal. It stops me from taking full control. But can I do anything? Can I influence him somehow?"

The system paused, considering the query. "Master, the integrity of the seal is significant. Direct neuromuscular control remains inaccessible. However, projecting subtle energetic influence across the barrier might be feasible. The precise effects and potential risks are currently unknown. Such an action could potentially stabilize the host's emotional state or grant a minor, temporary increase in his available energy. Conversely, it could also destabilize the host, or possibly alert the entity responsible for the seal's creation."

Adam's breath caught. Subtle influence... stabilize his state... It wasn't full control, but it wasn't nothing either. A tiny flicker of hope ignited within him. "A seal," he murmured, his gaze drifting back to the screen where Eric sat, looking utterly defeated.

"Who would put me in here like this... sealed inside him? And why?" Was it a prison sentence? Or some twisted form of protection?

Before he could lose himself in those unanswerable questions, the tense quiet in Eric's room was violently shattered.

THUD!

The huge, ornate doors were slammed open with brutal force, crashing against the inside walls with a bang that echoed through the luxurious chamber.

A figure stood silhouetted in the doorway – tall, imposing, clad head-to-toe in gleaming steel armor that reflected the hallway light. An aura of harsh authority radiated from him.

His voice, rough and metallic, maybe amplified by the helmet, boomed across the room, sharp with impatience and utterly lacking respect.

"Prince Eric! Stop hiding in here! Today is the day of your trial! The council and the elders are waiting! If you fail to prove your worth—which everyone fully expects—you will be stripped of your title, your family name disgraced, and you will be thrown out of this palace! Do you understand?!"

Eric flinched violently, his entire body going rigid like he'd been struck. All the color drained from his face, leaving him deathly pale beneath his golden hair. His hands, resting on his knees, began to tremble uncontrollably.

The armored guard took a heavy, deliberate step into the room, his metal boots clanging loudly on the polished floor. He stopped several feet from the bed, looming over the terrified prince. His helmeted gaze felt like physical pressure.

"Do you hear me, boy?" the guard spat the word, his tone dripping with contempt.

"Your failure today will bring nothing but shame upon your father, the King, and your mother, the Queen! They already suffer enough embarrassment because of your weakness! At the very least, don't disgrace them further by acting like a coward now! Get up!"

Adam watched from his domain, yet felt it all sharply. He saw Eric's lips tremble, part slightly as if to protest or plead, but no sound came out. Pure, raw panic swam in his wide golden eyes – the look of a trapped animal facing its end.

A sudden surge of intense heat flooded Adam's core. His fists clenched instinctively, so tight his non-physical knuckles ached. The blue energy he'd been trying to manage now flared brightly around his hands again, tingling with power. 

He's just a terrified kid! Adam thought fiercely, directing the thought outward. They can't treat him like this! He felt the invisible barrier, the seal, pushing back against his strong emotions, a maddening reminder of his prison.

But the system had hinted... subtle influence might be possible. I have to try something, Adam decided, his focus narrowing intensely. Maybe I can't make him walk or talk, but maybe... maybe I can reach his mind?