“I told those cooks to prepare you a meal and they ruined it! For a prince who has been in a coma for months, don’t they have any decency?”

I hear my father rave as I sit in the same old bed in the same old room. A few days have passed since I woke up and the only thing I can consume is water. My hunger is practically nonexistent, my body immediately rejecting everything but liquids. My father can’t seem to wrap this around his head though, even my words merely go over his head. I’ve watched him pace back and forth in my room, the blinds to the right closed, my bed curtains partially open for me to see ahead.

Honestly I’ve been growing increasingly annoyed by his ranting but there’s not much I can do. I tried getting out of bed to stand but being severely malnourished has me falling over in coughing fits. My legs don't have the strength to carry me even a step and it’s severely depressing to realize.

It would be great to rework my muscles but every time I suggest it, my father shuns me. For a man who cares about me ruling, he’s truly hindering the process.

“Father,” I mutter after an hour of hearing him complain. “It’s okay. I can’t eat anything anyway.” I said the same line for the tenth time today.

Father merely shakes his head, continuing to rage. “Useless cooks. They should have been executed. They’re poisoning my only heir, I know it.”

I sigh at the ridiculousness spouting from his mouth. Poison? Are you serious? Clearly what we’re dealing with here is out of anyone’s control. Why can’t you see that? Why does it feel like I’m the only here with a brain? It’s so suffocating!

“Father,” I say with a tad more annoyance dripping in. “Don’t you think it’s time I stretch my legs? Maybe I’ll get better-“

“No!” He abruptly shouts. “No,” he then mutters quietly as if in some kind of denial. “You need rest.”

“Father, I’ve been resting for three days now. I can barely walk and it’s miserable in this room. I know I can’t be in the sun but maybe a midnight stroll will help.”

“No,” he repeats. “No. I cannot allow that.”

“You can’t keep me here forever. Don’t you need someone to rule?” Hopefully reminding that I’m not just his son will budge his stance but he only grows more furious.

“Dammit, Talen! You need rest! Stop arguing with me for once and listen! You will stay here until you get better, do you understand?”

But I won’t get better, I want to argue but I clamp my lips together, my brows furrowing in anger.

“Yes, father.”

“Right. Now, I’ll be back. Stay. Here. I’m going to punish those cooks and try again with new ones. Maybe they won’t poison you this time.”

I want to roll my eyes at the absurd claim but I let him go. He leaves the room quietly without a beat, leaving me once again alone with my thoughts.

Damn it all! Why can’t he see that this is a hopeless battle?

I truly will never understand my “father” and his desperation to deny the situation. Truly I would smack some sense into him before the week is over. This has been the most tiring ordeal. How could such a fragile king such as him rule a kingdom or a country for that matter? This is…

I groan aloud, pulling the sheets of my cover over my head before dramatically slamming myself on the many pillows behind me.

A joke. It’s one big fat joke, isn’t it?

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

No. I’m no better than my father if I believe that. At this point the only way to get an answer is if I try to take charge. I’ll never get anywhere if I listen to his babble!

With as much effort as I can wield, I push the covers off with tired limbs and swing my legs to the side of my bed. As I stand on shaking appendages, my legs just can’t seem to hold my weight. I feel myself fall forward, watching in slow motion as my head goes straight for the wall at terrifying speeds. I instinctively reached out for the curtain and a sense of regret immediately hit me.

The curtain rips, revealing the bright light into the room. As my head continues to hit the wall and I fall onto my stomach, besides the aching head, a burning sensation splashes onto my back and arms. I scream in pain, the smell of boiling skin causing me to gag. I writhe in agony, turning over to feel the same burning sensation hit my face and frontal part of my body.

“Help me!” I cry, tears rolling down my face, my eyes rolling into my head from the torture.

“Talen?!” My father’s voice, a savior, enters the room.

I feel rough hands drag me from the light. As soon as the burning sensation cools, the rays from the windows disappear. I blink my eyes, trying to see but nothing adjusts. It's just black.

Am I blind?

I begin to cry, moving my arms to my face. They don’t budge though. Instead, intense pain radiates through them. I can still smell the burning flesh and my heart speeds up along with the pain and panic.

“My son!” I feel rough hands grasp my face. Though it’s a painful sensation, it’s better than the rays. “What have I done?” He sounds so distraught and I can’t help but cry even more from the saddening tone in his voice.

“Am I going to be okay,” I croak hopelessly.

I’m fucking blind! I’m pretty sure that’s not okay.

But I need reassurance. I need something!

“I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”

Don’t talk like that. I need reassurance, not self pity.

I feel his hands shudder against me and silently wish he pulled away now. The agony on the surface gradually grows deeper, as if it’s sinking into my bones.

My arms grow numb as I try to move them again. I turn my head to smell the faint scent of smoke rising into my nostrils.

“Father?” I whisper, trying to reach out to him.

“My son is dead,” I hear him say.

What?

“Father… I don’t…”

My body begins to shudder. The scary numbness is now reaching my chest. A sinking rush of fear invades my heart as I have no idea what’s happening now.

“Father?” I will try it again.

I feel a warmth against my head and inwardly reel back in pain.

“I’m sorry.” He says, his breath grazing my chin.

Am I dying?

No, it’s too soon! I merely just tripped and fell. I was burnt a little but it shouldn’t lead to my death, could it? Why is this happening to me? Why?

I try to reach out.

The numbness is at my neck now.

I can’t say a word.

This can’t be it.

I refuse.

Anger builds inside me as I attempt to communicate again. Anger and hatred. Remorse. The absurdity of it all. I just got here! This can’t be it!

Suddenly the world snaps. The touch against my head feels like it’s drawing into me. An energy coursing from theirs to mine, creating a shuddering feeling bleed throughout my skull.

What is this?

I feel my father tremble against my cheek. I hear his heart quicken in my ears. I hear his breathing become shallow and the warmth from his head fade. I notice how his hands shrink against my face along with the increasing pressure in my brain.

“Talen?” He whispers, confused.

Breathless.

Then gone.

I know because I feel his body weight shift off me as my vision returns. I stare at the ceiling in utter confusion, noticing my now blackened limbs rejuvenating back into the same tan-pale.

The pain goes, too.

Why?

My father lies next to me. He’s still.

Unmoving.

I gained the courage to look at him and scream in horror.

His body is pale and skeletal, as if his life was sucked out of him. A terrified face lies permanently in his features. His wide brown eyes are lifelessly glazed over in fear as his dry lips part, a frown etched into it.

What is this?

I shuffle away but I don’t get far.

A sudden pain hits me, different from the burning. It causes me to jerk back, to spasm into the floor. My ears ring in my head as I scream in pain once again. I feel my feet kick involuntarily, causing my father’s body to begin to crumble away from the damage.

“Why me?!” I grit, trying to regain control but it’s futile.

As I begin to pass out from the pain, my eyes rolling agonizingly into my head, I see something.

It’s strange.

Red letters float in front of my teary vision as I black out.

[Analyzing…]

[User Found!]

[Prince Talen Jyves]

[Awakened!]

[LEVEL 2!]

[Monster: The Devourer!]