Author's POV....
Maelis gained his consciousness slowly, as though rising from the depths of dark water.
The first thing he felt was cold stone beneath him and the unfamiliar weight of fabric against his skin. Before he could make sense of it, a face suddenly filled his vision—too close, far too close.
It was a small boy.
Maelis inhaled sharply and jerked backward in pure reflex, his heart slamming violently against his chest.
The boy blinked, startled by the sudden movement.
"Crown Prince…?" the boy said hesitantly. "What happened? Where are you lost in thought?"
Maelis stared at him, breath uneven. The boy looked young—no more than a child—with neatly combed hair and clothing far too ornate for someone his age. Confusion churned violently inside Maelis's mind.
"Wait," Maelis said hoarsely. "Where am I… and who are you, kid?"
The boy's brows furrowed in visible confusion.
Maelis finally noticed that they were not alone.
He was surrounded by more boys—several of them.....standing in a loose circle around him. All of them looked to be between ten and twelve years old. Their expressions ranged from uncertainty to fear, their postures stiff, as though they were standing before someone dangerous.
"I'm Prince Caleb of the Rosewood Kingdom," the boy answered carefully. "One of your allies."
Ally.
The word echoed loudly in Maelis's head.
A sudden, sickening realization washed over him.
Slowly, almost fearfully, Maelis looked down at himself.
His body was… smaller.
His height barely exceeded that of the boys surrounding him. His hands....he lifted them shakily.....were not the hands of an adult. They were slim, pale, delicate, fingers too long and unscarred, unfamiliar in every way.
Resting loosely in his grasp was a whip.
The moment he registered what it was, panic surged through him. His fingers loosened instantly, and the whip slipped from his hand, landing on the ground with a soft yet terrifying sound.
Several of the boys flinched.
Maelis's breath came faster now as he pushed himself fully upright and began looking around.
They were in a garden.
But not an ordinary one.
Tall hedges surrounded the area, trimmed perfectly, enclosing the space like walls. Marble paths cut through lush green grass. Fountains glimmered quietly nearby, water catching sunlight as it flowed. Everything about the place spoke of wealth, power, and control.
Every child present wore fine clothing—royal attire embroidered with gold and precious threads. Yet even among them, Maelis stood out.
His outfit was different.
The silk he wore was finer, purer, the fabric heavy with status. Every detail screamed authority. Ownership.
And fear.
He could see it now....how the other boys watched him. How they stood carefully, as if afraid to move the wrong way. None of them met his eyes directly.
Something was terribly wrong.
Maelis pinched himself once.
Nothing.
Again.
Harder.
Pain bloomed sharply at his arm.
This wasn't a dream.
A low murmur spread among the boys, confusion evident on their faces.
"Why is the crown prince acting strange…?"
"Did something happen to him?"
Maelis swallowed, his thoughts spiraling. Before he could speak again, movement caught his attention.
From the edge of the garden, a few older children dragged someone forward.
Maelis's breath caught in his throat.
They shoved the boy roughly, throwing him down at Maelis's feet.
The impact was hard enough to make the boy stagger before dropping to his knees. His hands pressed against the stone path, fingers trembling.
Maelis froze.
The boy's clothes were torn, dirt-stained, barely holding together. Bruises marked his exposed skin—dark and angry against pale flesh. His face bore traces of dried blood, lips split, one eye faintly swollen.
Yet despite everything, his back was straight.
His head was lowered, but Maelis could feel it.
Hatred.
Pure, burning rage simmering beneath the surface, restrained only by silence.
Maelis's stomach twisted painfully.
"What… happened to him?" Maelis asked quietly, his voice shaking despite his effort to steady it.
Prince Caleb stepped closer, confusion evident in his expression.
"What do you mean, Lord?" Caleb asked. "Aren't you going to whip this bastard?"
As he spoke, Caleb bent down and picked up the whip Maelis had dropped, holding it out casually, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
Maelis stared at the whip.
Then at the boy kneeling before him.
Then back at his own hands.
"I was… going to whip this kid?" Maelis asked, pointing first at the whip, then at the kneeling boy, then at himself.
The garden fell into an uneasy silence.
The boys exchanged glances.
Then, slowly, they nodded.
"Yes," one of them said hesitantly.
"That's what always happens" another whispered.
The world tilted violently.
Maelis's ears began to ring, a sharp buzzing drowning out every other sound. His vision blurred, colors bleeding into one another. The garden.....the boys—the kneeling child.....all of it felt unbearably distant.
His chest tightened painfully.
No.
No, no, no—
The last thing Maelis saw was the boy's clenched fists pressing into the stone, knuckles white with restraint.
Then darkness rushed in.
Maelis collapsed.
And the garden held its breath.