- Chayrith's room
Chayrith sat within his opulent cradle, his face a mask of babyish innocence as he watched the maids scurry around his room.
"Don't forget to prepare the young master's robes. No, not the gold ones—the gray, GRAY!"
"Someone start preparing the young master's bath! He needs to be washed thoroughly, to the point where that new baby smell comes back!"
"Ahhh! Where are the accessories!? They're all missing!"
"Forget them! The young master hates wearing them anyway. His earrings and pendant are on the desk—just use those."
"Is someone taking pictures!?"
"""FUCK!!"""
Chayrith's arms were crossed over his chest as he sat with the grace and dignity of the cutest baby emperor you ever did see. But the unconcealed shine within his emerald eyes reflected the bursting excitement he was feeling.
Why wouldn't he be? Today was the day he was introduced to the world. He was excited to see new people, and of course, he was determined to make the best impression—just like his father had taught him to d—
'CONQUEST! GLORIOUS CONQUEST!'
Author: "Of fucking course!"
While his face was the perfect representation of childlike wonder and glee, his inner thoughts were anything but childish…or respectful.
'Finally! Mother and Father have permitted me to reveal my divine providence to the ignorant. I will show the world my sacred brilliance! Let them bask in the glow of my eternal majesty! Let them witness the might of my preordained sovereignty!'
As Chayrith began to drool while imagining his illusions of glory and grandeur, an aged, weary voice echoed within his mind.
'Sigh Boy, do you ever tire of these nonsensical delusions? If I have to listen to another one of your tirades about glory and conquest, I will do everything in my power to detonate our soul.'
Hearing the voice of dissent within his own mind, Chayrith's face darkened before he scoffed inwardly. 'Silence, Invader! I would not expect one as nescient as yourself to understand my sacred edict.'
Even without seeing him, Chayrith could feel the old man's eyes roll.
'Yeah, yeah, sacred edict my ass. Do you think about anything other than conquest and breasts!?'
A shiver went through Chayrith's mind as he thought of the fleshy weapons of mass destruction his mother carried around on her chest.
'Y-You dare mock me! If not for the limitations of this accursed body, I would have no need to fear those…things!'
Listening to Chayrith's stuttering voice, the old man huffed before muttering, 'And yet you seem quite content feeding from them every day.'
Chayrith fell silent, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The old man, satisfied with his victory over the conceited baby, let out a soft, self-satisfied chuckle.
Just as Chayrith was about to explode in a fit of rage, he noticed a maid approaching. He immediately adopted his tried-and-true innocent expression.
"Young master, it's time for your bath!" the maid called cheerfully. Chayrith let out a bright cheer as he reached out to grab her.
Momentarily dazzled, she didn't even realize when she reached the bathroom, her mind still reeling as Chayrith's sinfully adorable smile was eternally burned into her retina.
As the other maid waiting on standby took Chayrith from her, she gazed at her with a strange look before asking, "Hey Rina, you okay? You're drooling."
The maid, Rina, simply walked away absent-mindedly, giggling sporadically to herself. Chayrith and the maid looked after her before turning to face one another. The maid leveled a suspicious gaze at him before questioning, "Young master, did you do something?"
As the poster boy of innocence, Chayrith blinked his big green eyes at her without a shred of falsity within them. With that, yet another maid fell victim to his seductive cuteness.
"Young master is the cutest!" she squealed, fawning over him as she carried him into the bath, not noticing the victorious smirk on his lips over her shoulder.
— 2 hours later…
Chayrith, fresh out of the bath, rolled around his crib in his fluffy bathrobes. His babbling sounded like a soothing bell to the ears of the maids still scurrying around.
'Brat, I hope you haven't forgotten about our discussion.'
There were still a few hours before the banquet began. And seeing the maids focused on preparing his clothing and distracted, Chayrith laid flat on his back, closing his eyes as his soul drifted into his mental space.
The old man was still in the same position, sitting cross-legged on his throne in silence. But his slightly furrowed brows gave away an inner turmoil.
Little Chayrith appeared on the stone throne opposite him in a flash of light, his babyish face now a mask of regal indifference.
'Speak, invader. What have you found?'
Groaning, the old man lamented his miserable fate, having to deal with this obstinate little ancestor. He turned his head to face the baby before him, his eyes still perpetually closed.
'Can we stop with the invader shtick? I have told you—we are of one soul and body, whether you find the arrangement agreeable or not.'
Chayrith sneered haughtily, 'You are an invader because I have deemed you so. No amount of your blathering will change that reality.'
'No, brat, you don't understand. You have to come to terms with this,' the old man spoke solemnly.
Seeing the seriousness on the old man's face gave him pause. He did not immediately lash out but narrowed his eyes at him, searching his face for any signs of lies or falsities.
'...Very well. I will hear you out, old one—but should I sense any falsehood from your words, consider our strained…coexistence over.'
If his eyes were open, the old man would have certainly rolled them, inwardly muttering curses toward Chayrith before taking a deep breath.
'First, have you noticed anything…different about the space?'
At his words, Chayrith frowned before glancing around them. His eyes scanned the ever-barren wasteland. Nothing seemed to have changed since he was last here.
Just as he was about to voice his dissatisfaction at being led by the nose, he froze. His eyes locked onto a sight that left him shocked.
'T-This is…how?'
There, some distance to the side, was a small sapling. Its stem looked weak and fragile, yet the surging vitality it radiated stood out like the North Star in an empty night sky.
Around it, the gray, colorless soil seemed revitalized. A moisture not present anywhere else in the space could be seen there.
Ever since Chayrith had first entered the mysterious space, not a hint of vitality could be sensed anywhere. The space itself seemed dead—or more accurately, empty—devoid of anything other than hollow silence.
Now, seeing the first sign of life, his heart shook violently.
His large head whipped to face the old man, his eyes shining with a questioning light.
The old man, for the first time since Chayrith had interacted with him, stood up from his throne. His elderly body, though still hunched, surprisingly stood tall. An imposing presence shrouded him like a cloak. If not for the wrinkles on his face, it would be hard to believe such a frail-looking elder could exude such a domineering aura.
Chayrith's breath momentarily caught in his throat, his thoughts grinding to a halt as sweat began to pool on his forehead. Before he was even conscious of it, the old man was standing by the sapling, and Chayrith himself was hovering beside him in a daze.
'The sapling…well, I guess that's incorrect. The sprout you see before us is the fulcrum of this space. Or, to simplify things: it is the very root of our soul.'
At his words, Chayrith's large eyes widened. The old man fell silent, waiting for Chayrith's usual round of curses and distrust. But after a few moments, he was surprised to see that he was quietly waiting for him to continue, with no intention of interrupting.
A small tear almost slid down the old man's face as he rejoiced inwardly, swearing to remember this day for the rest of their shared existence.
Gathering himself, he began to explain everything he knew about their current situation.
'Before we get into the sprout and this strange space, it is vital that we settle the differences between us. As I have tried—and failed—to explain to you numerous times before, I am not an invader or your enemy.'
Under Chayrith's skeptical gaze, the old man's eyelids began to tremble. As they began to open, the void around them started to rumble violently. Chayrith's soul felt a terrifying pressure begin to descend around him.
Though he was not the focus of the pressure, he could feel his soul being squeezed and stretched simultaneously. The disorienting sensation made his soul form pale.
Just as the rumbling reached its peak, it ceased. The space fell into an eerie silence—a silence that felt thick and heavy, like a blanket of iron had settled around them.
Chayrith's undeveloped frame was shaking uncontrollably, his soul flickering as if it were about to go out. But the bright light behind his green eyes grew brighter as he locked his gaze onto the old man.
With a soft shudder, the eyelids that had sealed the old man's eyes finally began to open. The sight that unfurled before Chayrith took his breath away.
But he had a sinking suspicion that this was only the beginning of a rather riveting journey. A journey he would be sure to see through to the end.