Chapter 4 - Visit In The Mists (1/2)

The moment the six guards noticed Bazuul sitting leisurely in the study, was followed by them surrounding him with their swords unsheathed. As the swords were held at his throat, Bazuul glanced at them indifferently and said: ”Nice day isn't it father?” as he looked toward the king.

One of the guards roared as he started to swing his sword: ”Don't you dare speak to his highness imposter…”

”HOLD!!” the king said calmly.

One word was enough to envelop the room and the people within it with his kingly aura. Yet, at the same time, there he was, his dead son in front of him and alive at that.

”Ho...How is this possible?” King Varanur III stammered.

”I'm sorry father, I hope my absence did not drag you or mother down,” Bazuul said cunningly, making use of his twelve-year-old body and the king's emotions as a father.

At this time, the king's face seemed to be made out of stone…

As the day went by, the passing ceremony was canceled and it was announced to the public that the prince miraculously awoke from what was thought to be death. The people themselves thought that the announcement was vague, but then again, nothing truly would change in their daily lives, dead prince or not.

~~~

”I'm Prince Bazuul Ylvazad, my pleasure...I'm Prince Bazu...I'm the prince of...prince prince prince prince prince…Gooosh, I sound like I want a fist in my face!” Bazuul said in anger. Obviously he didn't like the title.

A week had passed since the prince had been reinstated as alive. The queen came by a few times and so did the princesses, his brother's on the other hand, made themselves as thin as air. Which in fact, was rather to Bazuul's liking. This week he had read almost half of the books Bram brought to him.

At times, due to the new environment, it was rather hard for him to stay composed. There were just too many things that an earthling like him would stir to the core at this point.

For example, the world in itself was called Tiamat by the majority of the populous, nothing special right? Well not for Bazuul, he had actually heard that some old civilisation on Earth used to call a precursor of Earth, Tiamat. Information that confused him completely.

The names of the continents, on the other hand - or as the inhabitants of this world would call it, realms - were as follows. The realm he was on was called Ytolan. Then came Agatha, Aroi, Mu, The Emerald Valley, the north pole called Haibei, the south pole K'Tal and the island nation Atlantis.

The last one, of course, triggered an immense surge of curiosity in him, but he first had to focus on the ytolonian realm. Since it, in itself, was already vast enough -- considering its mass, and its proportion to the rest on the world map, this world should be about three to five times the size of Earth. Also, there might be the possibility he won't even have the chance to see most of those places.

So he focused on the matter at hand, learning the ways of the royal court, trying to find out who killed the former Bazuul, and if this person was still around. Most of all, he had to survive until then.

Then, there was this darkness within him, the matter with the magister, his rebirth and the lord that identified itself as a servant of the creator in the afterlife.

He also started to realize the differences between Tiamat and Earth. To him, it felt like the elements and he himself were connected, rooted and one with this world. A touch on the stone ground with his bare feet and he could sense every vibration in his wing for an impressive distance. Where a breeze could sweep his mind away from his body and into the air, the waters enclosed him deep into a world of his own. And the fires - subtly, with every flicker - whispered to him.

It was late into the night and candlelight still flickered in the study. Bazuul just finished his latest read. He rubbed his eyes, put the book back into the shelf and went to bed. Reading that much in this amount of time strained his eyes a lot, thus he joined the misty land of dreams within breaths.

But this night, he did not ease into his dreams the way he did into his sleep. It felt like he was being flushed through a tunnel filled with voices unrecognizable. Once he passed the tunnel, he landed in a foggy bright-white empty space that felt like a dream, but not completely.

”You've made it.” A voice arose out of nowhere.

Bazuul looked around trying to find the source of the voice, but everywhere he looked it was all white.

”Who is there? Show yourself!” He yelled.

He heard a voice come into existence as a familiar figure materialized in front of him.

”I am, as always, a servant...but, it is true, it is time to introduce myself.”

”You!!” Just as he was about to roar and jump him, the servant made some hand signs that locked Bazuul's body completely into place and then went on and said.

”My name is Velamar, lord of the underworld. I..eh...My task is to administer the logistic difficulties that arise through a constant stream created by Samsara's wheel.”

Bazuul still enraged and full of hatred toward the servant actually laughed inwardly at the servant's problem to describe his ”task”.