Chapter 3 Incomprehensible exile

The ruler immediately raised his head in the direction from which the voice came and saw the being who meant so much to him and was the reason for this long journey, who was crouched on the ceiling, one hand casually placed there, and half of his face hidden by black crystal glasses.

"Yes, always." Recognized simply the arriving one by fixing intensely the young boy.

The latter laughed briefly at this naive answer, nodded slightly and then slowly descended. As soon as his feet touched the floor, the large room looked as it had before.

The floor was covered with a thick, soft, abstractly patterned carpet, comfortable sofas and armchairs were artfully arranged throughout, along with many colorful cushions, and beautiful magical crystals, glittering with stars, hung from the ceilings, illuminating the room and the thousands of toys, so diverse and sublime, that were piled there. The whole thing revealed without a doubt the deep love one could feel for a child. And at that very moment, Jiide was looking intently at the child in question. A young boy of about eleven years old, smiling and really cheeky, tall, slim but delicate with hair even more ashy and long than his own, and ice-green eyes, of an astonishing sublimity reminiscent of the young leaves of an enchanted forest bathed in dew. He wore a light pink outfit that further accentuated his slenderness and gait. And now he was just having fun, and even mocking his uncle though rigid and feared by all.

"So you shamelessly confess my greatness and your total inefficiency in the face of it! You are a pretty good ruler after all, dear uncle."

After spouting this cruel nonsense, the young Esper turned and walked away while handling countless small cubes of different colors and constitutions, and assembled them on an imposing blue crystal table. Stopping in front of his moving toy, he reached out and transformed the cubes into a huge miniature battlefield that took up the entire table, and on which an obviously bloody war was now taking place. Myrhes discarded his dark glasses and then knelt down in front of the table and watched the merciless battle carefully.

"And what are you doing now, baby?" asked Jiide tenderly.

Myrhes looked up at the emperor for a moment with his surprisingly clear eyes, then back to his battlefield where the war was breaking out in all its horror.

"It's obvious, uncle," his nephew replied nonchalantly. I have re-enacted the Boyok War.

"Boyok?"

"Yes!" nodded the young heir, focused on the miniature battle. Don't you remember it? The king of the South who coveted the pure waters of the North, standing out here with his brave and foolish warriors in their glittering golden armor. And the king of the North who wanted to obtain and exploit the gold mines of the South, whose army is in blood red armor. So they went to war.

Jiide laughed mockingly as he too followed the bloody battle that was fiercely fought in a lost nursery in the middle of space.

"It's pretty pathetic," he judged lightly as he walked over to the glass table, and sat down across from his nephew who was so handsome and princely but whose uncontrollable and complex nature did always terrify him completely without his ability to admit it. So to try to convince him that he was not afraid, he continued to speak naturally.

"For my part, darling, I much prefer Kioppe's conflict."

"Kioppe?" Myrhes raised, surprised.

"Yes, Kioppe," the ruler confirmed. The ruler with the power of ice, who defended himself wonderfully against his greedy assailants, and for that, was able to annihilate and freeze half of his city with a secret and very powerful spell, like a magical explosion, in order to preserve the other.

Myrhes blinked, bringing his fingers to his temples in concentration.

"I had heard somewhere that the legend was not genuine. That the ruler had darker, more radical motivations in using this forbidden magic."

"Who knows indeed," the emperor shrugged and continued. "However, true or false, that does not stop people, spies, stalkers or researchers of all kinds from believing in it and attempting to seek out this terrible power."

"To use it in turn for their own gain." Myrhes suggested in a mocking tone. "That is, if they ever manage to discover it."

At these words, Jiide frowned slightly and smiled.

"Yes, but tell me, you sound quite dismissive when you talk about my favorite conflict!".

"Of course I do!" exclaimed the prince with a brisk gesture, as if he were speaking of the obvious.

"And why is that?"

"Well, I don't know about you, Uncle," he began, still wry. "Probably, are you really open to this kind of... things after all. But I don't like these fights or other types of confrontations, where the winner is already decided in advance!"

Stunned at first, Jiide Jeugolk finally burst out laughing.

"Really!"

His laughter redoubled again, which provoked an unbearable pout from his beloved nephew. The latter, moreover, continued proudly.

"Yes! I think it's a little too easy. And there's no need to mock my concepts. Because I don't know where the fun is in the game if the result is already obvious. It's like when someone tells you the end of a book you've spent days reading without interruption. For my part, it makes me want to change what's wrong."

Hearing those last words, but especially the tone of voice, the ruler trembled imperceptibly and all amusement disappeared from his face and mind. He pressed his lips together for a moment, then resumed, this time with an artificial smile.

"I must say that you have quite convincing and reasonably radical arguments. So much so that I oscillate between the two camps. Also, I admit that most of the time, predicting the end of a fight is boring. But sometimes, a few rare and terrifying times, it's kind of wonderful and... relieving to know that you're going to win for sure. But I'm also fully aware that you must be the last person capable of understanding this, precisely because of who you are. And it's easy for you to condemn those who think that way."

"If you say so." said the prince with an annoyed and contemptuous pout.

"What a difficult and even unbearable child," the emperor thought with an inward grimace, while contemplating him further. Certainly, at first glance, his nephew was of an exemplary clarity, almost magical, if he could afford the word in this description, so much his beauty and his presence, allied to a masculine delicacy, enchanted and attracted people, while intimidating them and preventing them from getting too close. But probably more than anyone else, the current ruler knew that behind this natural facade, wrapped in magnificence, was a young man, certainly, but so unpredictable, cruel and almost insensitive. If he hadn't seen with his own eyes what he was capable of, he wouldn't have believed it himself. The worst part is that Myrhes didn't even hide it anymore. But hadn't this fact been verified over and over again over the centuries, that monsters always bewitched more people than saints?