—----POV Chayrith(Inside his mental space)—----
Failure.
A buzzing gnat that clings to my immortal majesty as if I were a fresh corpse.
Yet again, the sweet bosom of conquest eludes me. That… couch, and the vile udders my mother wields, have defeated me once again. Why does conquest elude me so?
My name is Chayrith Aetherion, heir to the Aetherion Clan and overlord of the people who reside on this world. They may not know it yet, but they are bound to one day kneel before my might.
Preach my words and wisdom, and submit to my rule. This was decided the very day I was born.
'And yet you can't even climb a couch and are ousted by a pair of breasts each day.'
There it is again—
That same voice that haunts my sacred self.
'Lies! I haunt no one, boy. I live here the same as you!'
--------------------------------------------------------
Chayrith, sitting cross-legged on a stone throne, finally opened his eyes. Before him sat another imposing throne made of obsidian, an orb of black energy resting upon it, locked within a mechanism of revolving rings that thrummed with power.
Below it sat a wizened old man, his back hunched and his long beard stretching to the floor. His eyes were shut tightly, making him seem as if he were asleep. But Chayrith knew the voice had come from him.
Chayrith's eyes narrowed sharply, an overwhelming pressure erupting from his infantile body.
'Take care of how you speak, invader. This is my domain. Here, I hold all sovereignty. You would do well to remember your place.'
For a moment, there was silence before the old man shifted slightly on his throne. He brought a hand to his brow, rubbing it in frustration.
'How many times must I say this, boy? We are one and the same. You are I, and I you. This mental space is home to both of us. You are literally threatening yourself.'
'Humph! You are but a usurper, seeking to challenge me for dominion over this body. Your lies will not fool me.'
'First— I AM YOU.
Second— this mental realm is desolate, without a single thing to stoke my greed. What dominion would I be coveting?
Third— since you clearly know how to talk, why do you not speak to Mother and Father!?'
Baby Chayrith folded his chubby arms beneath his chest and turned his head to the side. His arrogant, prideful voice echoed clearly through the space.
'None are worthy of the divine grace my voice brings. My indulgence of their pampering and coddling is already touching my bottom line. They should be thankful this emperor has not seen fit to remove their wandering appendages!'
A vein bulged on the old man's temple as he fought to control his annoyance.
When Chayrith had reached his sixth month of life, he found that he was able to access this mental realm. A space devoid of life and any semblance of structure.
All he found within it was a single floating island holding two towering thrones. When his mental projection reached the island, he discovered he was not alone.
The first time he saw the old man, the elder was seated on the obsidian throne, head bowed as if locked in eternal slumber.
At first Chayrith was wary, but a strange sensation overtook him. The lone stone throne, sitting in majestic solitude a gray corona floating behind, called to him—echoing deep within his soul.
Before he knew it, he was seated upon it, a pulse of gray energy rippling into the void as his eyes turned white. He remembered little of what followed, but he later learned from Meilan that he'd fallen seriously ill that day.
He suffered a fever for days. His mother had nearly run to his father's clan to seek aid from his grandmother, had his father not stopped her.
Chayrith miraculously recovered five days after the fever began. His mind felt clearer, and his body lighter.
But there was a problem.
The old man who had been slumbering within him woke up—and now annoyed him endlessly with his drivel. Chayrith had tried many times to rid himself of this haunting ghost, to no avail.
Now they begrudgingly coexisted, neither agreeing with the other.
The old man sighed wearily, his mind numb from trying to reach an understanding with the stubborn baby sitting across from him.
'Boy, you do not have to be so wary of me. We are of one soul—split into two conscious minds. Whether you are in control or I makes no difference. In time, you will come to understand.'
Chayrith merely snorted derisively. He clearly wasn't taking the old man's words to heart. But deep down, he knew there might be some truth to them.
After all, the old man was here before Chayrith had even gained access to the space. And while Chayrith had many questions about his existence, he held no trust in any answers he might receive.
'Regardless of your words, I cannot trust your presence here. Nothing about you being here makes any sense.'
Though the old man's eyes were closed, Chayrith could feel the elder's eyes on him, filled with disbelief.
'And what about a baby having the intellect and awareness of an adult makes any sense to you!? Boy, nothing about our existence makes sense!'
Chayrith stubbornly crossed his arms again. Though childish, his tone carried a finality that offered no compromise.
'Because I am above all and under none. No one can compare to my immortal self. This emperor was simply born better in every way compared to the rabble that inhabit the world around me.'
The old man fell silent, resigning himself to his circumstances. Dealing with this 11-month-old disaster was siphoning years off his questionable existence.
As he sank into thoughts of strangling Chayrith with his own umbilical cord, Chayrith lifted from his throne and floated to the edge of the island, staring into the void.
'Invader… do you know what this space is?'
The old man was stunned by the sudden question before falling into thought. Chayrith didn't interrupt, letting him work through his answer.
'Yes and no.'
Chayrith frowned.
'Explain.'
The old man shook his head helplessly.
'I know, but I also do not. All I can say for certain is that it is not complete. Much like we are.'
Chayrith fell silent. His small head tilted to the side, brows furrowing.
'So how do we complete it?'
'I do not know.'
Chayrith turned, glaring.
'No matter how many death glares you send me, my answer remains the same, boy. I woke up not much longer before you and remained dormant until you sat upon your throne. My only guess is that certain steps must be completed before this space reveals its true purpose.'
Though annoyed, Chayrith no longer pressed. He recognized they were both lacking answers.
'Very well. In any case, make yourself useful and try to learn more about this space. This emperor has no time to waste on such useless tasks.'
Without another word, Chayrith's adorable body faded from the space, his throne dimming.
The old man grumbled, leaning back. He stretched out his hand, and the black orb floating above his throne dropped softly into his palm.
His eyes opened briefly as the orb's rings aligned into strange patterns. His pupils glowed with incandescent light before closing again.
A contemplative expression settled over him.
'Truly strange… The space is whole, and yet clearly something is missing. And that slight presence below us… what could it be?'
As his thoughts wandered, he didn't notice a small sprout beginning to grow in a crack between the two thrones.