Intan was the name of the reporter who had fired at Felix. A pleasant sort of fellow, so long as the conversation kept away from politics. The man had been captured a year before Felix’s first press release. Out of the People’s Army prisoners Intan had been the one who’d tested with the best aim. Ashley had therefore sent the man out to Bermuda for training. For the past year once every week they had been practising. Each week Felix had a different angle, a different speech, a different scenario but the fundamentals never changed. With the Russian revolver, Intan was to shoot Felix in the chest, but only after making his stance clear with his line of questioning. In his time preparing for the scene he had been treated to a world of luxury far removed from that he had back home. Everyday he was treated like royalty, no doubt he could never have predicted anything other than what he’d been promised.

He was assured that once he did as instructed he would quickly be removed from harm. Oh he might get a little rough treatment but nothing extreme. He was given the exact outline of what was going to happen. He would be apprehended, questioned and sentenced to a life of labour on a neighbouring island. As soon as the public outcry had died down, unquestionably no more than three months, he would be secretly transported away to live out his years in a life of grandeur free from the binds of rebellion and war.

It seemed only logical to the man. After all they wouldn’t have flown him out, trained him for over a year only to let him die. They would not have incurred such costs on his behalf for nothing. You see to him, as it would most people, such costs seemed extravagant.

He didn’t understand the kind of wealth the Balduins possessed.

Had no concept of it.

As soon as Intan had fired his round he himself was shot, not to the body but straight in the head. He died immediately, his role forever cemented as being the first attempted assassin of Felix Balduin.

Felix remained resting back in the palace for three days as the people waited anxiously for news of the last of the Rebel Leaders.

The bullet wound was not fatal, but all the reports indicated that although he was wearing body armour it had not been able to fully protect him from the bullet. The impact had wreaked havoc on his internal organs and caused complications for his health. According to the doctors, (all Felix’s of course, by this stage I am sure you are seeing the pattern) it was uncertain if he would survive. And even if he did whether his life would be of any quality. They loudly proclaimed how lucky it was that it had been to the chest, somberly shaking their heads saying if it had been but an inch higher he would have died in that very moment. In reality an inch or two would have still been fine.

It was with a huge sigh of relief and great cheer then that the people first saw Felix again after the now notorious press release. This time he appeared before them with a crutch in one arm and a bandage wrapped around his torso. A tight group of his own militia surrounded him. He smiled at the cheers and raised his free arm in response. There was not one man, woman or child in that throng of people who met him that did not see him as one of their own.

A large group of Rebel officers made their way through the crowds. One of them carried a ballot box, when the others stopped short he continued forward. That man was named Umtar. He was the oldest veteran of the rebellion and as the eldest he was also therefore the current ruling officer of the remaining Restorators. He led the rest in bowing down before Felix.

Umtar had been amongst the most prominent of the officers Felix had brought out to meet him and had become a firm ally of his in the three years of Balduin involvement in the rebel’s struggle.

Slowly but gracefully the old rebel got down onto his knees before raising a hand for silence.

“A vote has been taken, and its results are clear and overwhelming. We have decided that you, Felix Balduin. You shall be our new Leader. It was through your finances and arms that we finally tore down what had so long polluted our nation. And it will be through those same finances and arms that we rebuild it. Who better than to lead us in this time of peril but you. Syrnat is in your debt.”

Felix as ever, played his role to perfection. He looked around stunned at the man’s words. He shook his head and waved his arm in refusal but the people persisted. When people looked back on that moment it was always that which stuck out. The People had pushed Felix into the leadership as it were. It all seemed very spontaneous and wonderful, Felix was always adept at creating such scenes.

Urged forward Felix stepped out to embrace the old officer and the others behind him. After much back clapping and shaking of hands Felix came back up so as to address the people.

He smiled down on them from his position on the makeshift stage.

“Today is a day we have long fought for. As you can see I am still a little predisposed at the moment, and no for once that is not down to too much Tuak.”

The people laughed, all seemed in good spirits. Tuak was the local alcohol of the island, a pleasant if strong drink, one that varied a great deal in its percentage region to region as I later learned myself.

“Once I am up and able there shall be a grand meeting, one where all of Syrnat’s woes are discussed and dealt with. This is the dawn of a new age for our people.” Felix jokingly raised his hand for calm, “And yes, yes we shall have a celebration too, I know that is of course the most important thing. Syrnat is long due a party, we must make it a good one.”

Felix seemed to smile at everyone as he looked around laughing in delight.

“But for the moment I must retire once more, I will rest and recover. Just as Syrnat must rest and recover. The palace is in need of a good clean out in any case. I know Umtar is eager to get at it.”

“You have one arm, enough to sweep and dust. I shall organise the Party, you the cleaning.”

Felix scowled at Umtar before pointing a finger at him, “I’ll remember that in my first toast.”

Grinning, Felix gave a quick bow and wave to the people and cameras before he headed back to the palace.

The force of the palace was made up entirely of Balduin militia. So it was that inside Felix was able to get rid of the crutch and stride forward into that which he’d made his chambers.

Now officially elected he had finally realised all that his Father had dreamed of. The island was his. He effectively its King. Of course he’d have to get the title changed from President to King. There was no question of that, President Felix sounded just like any other powerful politician. King Felix however had weight.

He would allow things rest for a few days, let Karina and Avelina get settled before he introduced them to the public. They were waiting at Bali for the moment but they could easily be on the island within half an hour when needed.

He was confident that the nationwide celebrations he had planned would take up most of the people’s attention in any case. And while they partied and congratulated themselves he would create the Kingdom he had envisioned for the past four years. And a Kingdom his Father had envisioned long before him.

Tapping his breast pocket he sighed as he sat himself down on the old throne.

Syrnat was his. He was King. He could relax for the moment. The next step could wait a few days. For the first time he felt an undeniable sense of relief. There had been a part of him that insisted the island would need to be taken by force. Yet he had succeeded in gaining the love of the People without it. This seemed to him the last great obstacle standing in his way. He had dealt with the finer details, now it was time to enact his rule and properly fulfil his and indeed his Father’s wishes.

He sat back content on his throne. King Felix, if they didn’t already soon the whole world would know the name. Sat in his own palace of a nation that had openly handed him leadership, the Head of House Balduin was quite certain of it.

And so began Felix’s reign. Unofficially of course, at that moment he was still regarded as the new President of Syrnat, not as its new King. That came later.

So far it seems all has only gone well for Felix, he had already accomplished that which his Father had set out to achieve, he had an island in his thrall and was well on the path to making the Balduins public and Royalty once more. Still only twenty three he was young, rich and handsome with the world seemingly at his feet.

To you dear reader he must seem almost infallible, impervious to failure and entirely composed in his every dealings.

Felix intended himself to appear just so. In fact he was more aware than any I have ever encountered to portray such an image. For in reality it was not so. Allow me a repose in our story to illustrate why it was just not the case.

After the death of his Father Felix often suffered with what the doctors termed night terrors. Frequently was the House awakened to the young boy screaming out in horror as he was seemingly assailed on all sides by all manners of nightmarish demons. The terrors continued for years despite his Mother’s endless attempts to cure it. Hypnotists, psychologists, clinicians, there were no avenues not followed in the pursuit of a cure. They all failed. Every night his Mother would sit with him, and every night it was she and she alone who would provide him with respite from that which haunted him. The two years following the death of Joaquin were the worst of it, scarcely a night passed without Felix’s screams. He screeched and called off those who attacked him without mercy. I'll admit it was quite a frightening sight to see a child so consumed by terror. For his Mother then it must have shook her deeply. Try as they might, no cure could be found for his affliction. By the time Felix reached the age of thirteen the terrors were merely a part of the boy’s routine. They were an almost nightly occurrence and often more than once in a single night. By this time Felix was well aware of both the nature of his attacks and the uniqueness of them. The constant and essential need of his Mother every night was a great source of shame to the young Felix.

When they occurred now the usually brashful Felix would hide himself away in his room, unable and unwilling to face those who had seen him in his most vulnerable and pitiful state.

All of it eventually culminated in him making the decision to cease relying on his Mother for comfort and instead work on creating confines whereby he could not be aided or relieved from his torment. To do this he tried simply ordering his Mother not to intervene when he had an episode, to ‘leave him to his suffering’ as he put it. It was only a minor thing to him, he did not need her.

Of course she did not agree. It was the only matter they ever truly argued on. No matter what he said as soon as Felix screamed out she would come running to him, invariably bursting into his room to rescue him from his misery.

Realising his Mother would not give in, Felix turned to more extreme measures. No one would aid him, despite his orders, commands, protests and tantrums. He was still only a boy at that stage. And if sometimes slightly detached, his Mother could be fierce when pushed to it. She made it abundantly clear that any who aided in her son’s self-inflicted trials would be made to pay severely. This was more than enough to dissuade any of us aiding Felix. Any member of the House who chanced to earn Mariana’s displeasure were soon dealt with. Brutally and to the fullest. One did not displease Lady Balduin. For now Felix was still his Mother’s charge, his requests meant little then when put against her own.

So it was that the boy contrived to create his own holding cell of sorts, secretly acquiring all he needed to restrain himself. Though Mariana never knew about any of it I am certain that at least Eustace had some idea. Perhaps even more than an idea, the young boy’s desire to curb his own weakness would have greatly appealed to the Elder Balduin’s sense of self-discipline and self-control. Any sign of frailty needed to be stamped out immediately. Preferably without outside intervention or knowledge.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

In any case Felix procured both chains and a means of covering his mouth when sleeping. I confess that I had seen the means and guessed the intention of the boy. Though he carefully hid all of it from Mariana I could have informed on him. She would have been greatly pleased by me I am certain. But I didn’t. Something stopped me. She had commanded no member of the Household to aid him, but not informing was not the same as aiding him. So I said nothing.

From that point on there were no more episodes, Felix it seemed had found a cure. There were no more abrupt waking moments of tormented screaming, no more banging on his bedroom door. No more tears from his mother as she struggled to wake him from his nightmare. It was over with.

Felix must have had some manner of aid. He needed someone or more likely some technology to allow him to bind the chains at night, and release them in the morning before Mariana had performed her daily morning and nightly check in with her son. I assume it was Eustace, he would have been the only one who would have kept it from Mariana. He would have had no difficulty creating or finding such a mechanism.

Alexander might have done it. But I doubt it. He was always close to her, moreso after the death of his Brother. Whether through guilt or remorse I do not know but Alexander rarely if ever went against her wishes, and certainly not when it came to Felix and Karina.

Nor I feel, would Alexander have allowed Felix to suffer so much from his personal chains. And he did suffer. In spite of his many declarations that he was cured, the boy grew increasingly weak during that time, his previous overflowing energy replaced instead with lethargy. His skin, fresh and fair, grew withered and not at all child-like. Doctors came and went, each one convinced it was the boy’s sleep pattern causing the issue.

Mariana therefore insisted on sitting by her son’s bedside for observation but Felix steadfastly refused. It was not right for her to look after him so intimately while he was now 13. He would only permit his grandfather to watch over him. You can see now why my suspicions, if not my full judgement landed on the old man.

He just as resolutely supported Felix’s claims that it was not his sleep that was the issue. Though clearly, very clearly it was.

Only Eustace would have seen it through, only he could have watched as his young grandson struggled and endured the pain of his terrors. I did not track the days so exactly but I am sure it took all of two months for Felix to return to his normal youthful boyish self. Only then did it truly seem he had cured and healed himself from his night terrors. So I, Mariana and everyone else in the Balduin House believed and understood. So I, Mariana and everyone else in the House celebrated. The boy and his grandfather together had solved that which had so mystified some of the world’s greatest medical minds.

That was Felix at the age of thirteen. What I witnessed then a week after his nineteenth birthday both shocked and chilled me.

Felix had not stopped partying for the entire week since the celebration. He had travelled back and forth from the Bermuda home without stopping, full of drugs, alcohol and surrounded by a bevy of women and hanger ons he partied relentlessly.

I have little doubt he had hardly slept. Which is why it was no surprise then that he did not wake that morning eight days after his nineteenth birthday, sleeping far longer than he ever would normally. I would have let him sleep but he had instructed me repeatedly to wake him, his orders were not ones I could go against. As fearful as I was to be the one to call on him, I was more fearful of not carrying out his order.

There must have been some urgent Rebel movement for him to be so adamant about waking, though that was something only he would have known about. In a drunken and drugged up stupor he’d given me a key to his bedroom as a last resort should he not be up in time. Looking back at that moment I should have considered the state he was in. He was not fit to be giving any orders or commands for the future. Him offering up a bedroom key was a clear demonstration of that. I should have ignored him and went straight to Alexander with it, forgetting the order completely. I am certain Felix had, probably moments after giving it. I should have, but something stopped me, Felix was already acting as if he was Head and any who went against his wishes would often be left to feel his wrath. I feared and contemplated over and over again what would happen if he did remember. Perhaps he had not been quite so badly off as I thought and was simply testing me. Deciding that the risk was too great I condemned myself to the command.

I think in his week of wild partying Felix had pushed himself too far. His exertions had left him exhausted, disorientated and likely vulnerable to an episode. More than he had been for some time I suspect. That morning I went up to his room.

I knocked gently on the door, hoping without conviction he would already be awake. He was not of course. I knocked again, harder this time. I waited, still no response.

Sighing I took a deep breath to steady myself before placing the key in the door and turning.

It was almost like something from one of those old black and white Hollywood movies. The room was dark though it was late morning, the thick velvet curtains allowed little light entry into the room. While my eyes adjusted I stood still at the doorway. Remembering what Felix had ordered I closed the door behind me.

There was no sound or movement from the bed. He wasn’t there. Someone else was. One of his lady friends.

She was not breathing. My eyes were adjusted to the low light by now. It was quite clear to me. She was dead. I took a step back. This was far beyond my station or dealings. Something I was not supposed to see. In a kind of morbid fascination I kept my gaze on the young lady as I backed away. I did not see anything then before Felix crashed into me. The force of the impact sent me sprawling down against the bed and onto the floor. Looking up I saw him standing above me. I saw immediately that it was an episode. His ears darted left and right unseeing, he’d been crying judging by his red and puffy face. He looked completely dishevelled. All along his neck, face and arms, chest were scratches and cuts. All done from his own hands.

He stood over me, practically snarling in fury. I lay there unmoving but he made no move to strike me further.

“I killed her. I did not mean to. I killed her.”

His voice was soft, childlike. He sounded like a scolded boy attempting to repent.

“She was one of them, oh not now. Now she looks human again. I mean before. Before I strangled her. She was one of them then. I strangled her. That is good, for the sheets at least. There is no blood. No blood.”

“One of them? Who are they, Felix?”

His ears pricked up at the mention of his name. He stared down at me but his eyes were bloodshot, he looked half a nightmare himself at that moment. I was afraid, but I had also seen his episodes plenty of time enough in his youth to know that he would not attack me for the moment. If he spoke to you then it meant he trusted you.

“They? They are my enemies. My Father’s enemies. My Family's enemies. Your enemies. Mine. Demons.”

“There are no demons Felix.”

He laughed wildly and spun away, “No demons? What a life you live. There are demons. Many of them. Too many.”

“Why did you kill her Felix?”

“Strangle.”

“Yes, but why did you strangle her?”

“What else would I do with a demon?”

That question rather stumped me for a moment. I got up slowly and with measured movements stumbled back to my feet. He was almost at the end of his episode. Fortunately the only part where he was somewhat open to suggestions.

“You must sleep Felix. You need to sleep.”

“The demons?”

“Are gone. They are not here now.”

“Then I can sleep?” Felix asked, turning around slowly to stare at me once more.

“You can sleep.”

“They are there. By my bedside.”

I followed his gaze. On the locker by his bed there was a small wooden box. Keeping my eyes on Felix I reached over to it to peer inside. There were about ten syringes inside, all full.

“I did not take them. That’s why the demons came. I forgot what Grandfather said.” Felix placed his two hands on his head and began looking frantically around the room.

“The demons came because of me. I forgot to take them. It is my fault. Mine.”

“Then you can take it now. You will sleep.”

“Yes. But the girl. I strangled her.”

“I will deal with it.”

“Yes? You are sure.”

“I am. All you must do is sleep Felix. That is what is important now. To sleep.”

Felix stared hard as I handed a syringe to him. I offered only one of them, I was unsure of just how many he actually required. Tentatively he approached before snatching the medication from me. Retreating back into the corner he quickly slammed the needle into his arm before promptly curling up right there on the floor. Within minutes he was asleep.

Once I was fully sure he was now asleep I turned back to the bed and the poor girl lying dead on it. I recognised her, she had been to the house at least two or three times over the past month. She was one of those he had spent more time than most with. I saw the handprints on her neck, felt the coldness of her cheek. She must have been dead for hours by that point.

Unsure of just what to do I made the decision to go directly to Eustace. He had spent many nights with Felix in his younger years and would know more than anyone what he was like and capable of. I could have gone to Alexander but I felt he would have been more horrified by his nephew’s actions. Eustace would not waste time on horror. And more importantly would not even think to consider telling Mariana. He would act without emotion, that was one thing that could not be denied of Eustace.

Luckily the old Balduin was always an early riser. Upon entering his study I found him awake and perched over an old manuscript from the Family library.

He listened without a word to my explanation. Upon its conclusion he only asked me two things.

He asked if anyone else had seen the girl and if I had locked the door behind me. To the first I responded with no and the second with yes. That was it.

He took the keys from me. Told me to wait in the servants quarter and send up Gregor and Artov to him. They were both the oldest and long serving members of the Balduin House. To me he only said that I was not to repeat what I’d seen to anyone.

He had only looked me in the eye for that last part. In that moment I confess feeling a fear that I had never known. For I had heard what happened to those that had displeased Eustace, more than that, I had seen it for myself. Death was begged for before the end. I never did speak of the incident with Felix again.

Nor did I see or know what happened to that poor girl. There was certainly no way I could ask. That would have been the end of me. I could only imagine, though then, as now I prefer not to.

To say nothing for her Family.

As for Felix, when next I saw him I waited for him with bated breath. I had not seen him for three days since I’d discovered him that morning. Nor had anyone really, he’d been in his room for most of it. Recovering officially. When he walked towards me then I felt as if the world was caving in on me. And yet he reacted as he always did, smiling and joking he seemed as carefree and charming as ever. There was no twitch, no semblance of a frown or surprise at seeing me. Nothing. He had evidently forgotten the entire conversation he’d had with me. Though I am still not even sure it was actually him I was talking to at that time. Not him in the proper sense at least.

He never changed anything in how he acted towards me. Nothing did. Though I felt as if Gregor and Artov watched me closer than usual after that.

I never spoke of it, but I often thought of that scene with me, Felix and the girl he’d killed.

I had seen the name on the syringes as I’d handed one to him. Valium Byzantium. Discreetly, very discreetly, I studied and researched the name. It was, as it turned out, an opium-based elixir ascribed to alchemists of Byzantine times, but the specific formula was lost during the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople. Or at least it was for most people. There were a great deal of books, art, medicines and technology lost to time which seemed readily available to the Bloodlines. Laudanum Byzantium was one of them. After that fateful morning I took a greater notice of what happened around me. Felix was always fond of drugs, always liked indulging in them. Laudanum was different. A new pouch of it was brought to his room by Gregor on the first of every month. I would have paid it no mind had I not seen it that morning. Once I did pay attention I realised I had seen the same exact pouch being sent up to him for years.

I believed it must have been Laudanum which cured him. Allowed him peace to sleep through whatever terrors might have attacked him. Whatever formula had been recovered from the ancients clearly Felix was able to maintain his health whilst under its effects.

However what can cure can also kill. It seemed that Felix would have been using the Laudanum since he was thirteen. By nineteen he was surely addicted. Addicted and utterly dependent on it. Such a dependency was more than just destructive. It was deadly to himself and anyone around him. One night of forgetting to take it and he had killed a lover because of it. Worse, he did not seem to remember any of the horrific event. Should his supply run out, or he forget to take it or worse refuse to take it the consequences would be devastating. For him and any unfortunate enough to be around him. There was little I could do, my humble station left me with little option save one. To hope and pray.

I could never fully rid myself of the image of Felix that morning. Every time I saw him from that point on I could not help but think just who close he was to complete insanity and madness. It seemed impossible he could keep up with such a lifestyle. And yet he did.