A chill ran up Asher’s spine and it had nothing to do with the ice the King had summoned. Memories that the prince had long since buried were clawing their way back to the surface. They came in flashes, each one making him wince ever so slightly, but still Asher refused to show any signs of weakness in front of his father. So he listened to his words and took them to heart, his expression remaining neutral no matter what was said. And when he was dismissed, he merely offered a respectful nod and saw his way out, the heavy doors of the war room swinging shut behind him unceremoniously.

Mechanically, Asher made his way down the luxurious halls as he remembered more about what felt like a past life. The boy in them certainly had his name, but the littler prince certainly didn’t act anything like the present him did. He remembered just how curious and playful he had been back then as he explored with his friend. Smiles had come easily and he had been quick to laugh. He remembered just how excited he had been to show his new friend interesting things that could only be found in the Land of Darkness and just how excited he was when she promised that they would explore her side of the border next time. But most of all, Asher remembered how weak he had been. The thought left a bitter taste in the prince’s mouth.

[color=slategray]”Send for Valentine,”[/color] he instructed the servant that met him in his room. The vampire gave a small look of horror as she took in the prince’s new collection of wounds, but was quick to do as Asher had ordered and left to find the castle’s healer in a hurry. The prince’s right hand had lost almost all feeling, leaving him with just his left hand to fumble with his shirt. Impatience and frustration led to the already tattered finery to be ripped off after a minute of his feeble attempt. Thoughts of his old self were pushed aside. Years of effort had gone into making him a strong and formidable demon, not a bleeding heart that lost his nerve when push came to shove. No, those memories were meaningless and the prince refused to waste another second dwelling on them. The king was right, Asher couldn’t risk going soft after he had come this far.

--------------------

A restless night’s sleep made Asher realize that his dreams didn’t quite feel the same way about those tiresome memories. Again and again he was forced to relive them whenever he closed his eyes, eventually ending with him giving up on sleep altogether. As morning came, Asher had become quite fed up with just laying still, eyes wide open. Getting out of bed, however, proved to be much more of a challenge than the prince would care to admit, as his body felt obnoxiously heavy and he somehow managed to seem to be covered in more bandages than skin. Still, after a small amount of annoyance he eventually managed to more or less throw himself out of his cushioned prison and hobble his way across the room to the window. 

The view that awaited him was a gloomy sight, as the Land of Darkness was perpetually draped with overcast clouds and little light, but it was home to the demon and he wouldn’t change a thing about it. A wave of nausea forced his eyes closed, which allowed his mind to turn its attention to thoughts of the damn creature from yesterday. [color=slategray]”You [b][i]are[/i][/b] going soft,”[/color] he all but spat. [color=slategray]"I need to fix that."[/color]