Prince taken

For the next few days, Sammy barely woke.

His body had endured far more than it could handle.

One arm was fractured in several places, while his injured leg had swollen badly enough that even the slightest movement caused him pain.

Most of the time, he drifted between sleep and brief moments of consciousness.

During one of those moments, Sammy opened his eyes to find Sybill sitting beside him.

Her hands rested over his injured arm.

A soft violet light glowed beneath her palms, spreading warmth deep beneath his skin.

The pain gradually dulled as the damaged bones began to mend.

Sammy watched her through heavy eyelids.

Sybill moved her hands towards his injured leg, and the same violet glow surrounded it.

"She's healing you slowly," Silvi said from the table. "Your injuries are too severe to mend all at once."

Sybill remained completely focused.

The swelling in Sammy's leg slowly began to recede.

His eyelids grew heavy again.

Just before they closed, he felt Sybill pull the blanket higher over him.

Then he fell asleep.

By the time Sammy finally remained awake long enough to understand where he was, the worst of his exhaustion had begun to fade.

Silvi spoke in a kind, gentle voice.

"Please stop staring at the boy and relax your face, dear. We do not want to frighten him. As you can see, he truly needs your help."

Sybill tried to readjust everything at once, but her attention was suddenly drawn to an unusual sight beyond the cottage.

Her Domain had blossomed with the rarest of flowers.

Blue Lulu blossoms.

"Now, now, dear boy. Don't be afraid. Tell us what happened to you. Why are you so frightened—apart from the shock you received after seeing us and entering Sibi's Domain?"

Domain.

Sammy's panicked thoughts paused.

He had heard old folk tales claiming that witches with extraordinary magical abilities could open portals to other dimensions and disappear into them for years.

But those were only stories.

As far as Sammy knew, only one person in the current era possessed the power to create a Domain.

And it wasn't this woman.

His breathing normalised for a moment.

He looked around.

The doll's black button eyes somehow reflected kindness.

The girl now looked non-threatening.

She sat very close to him and touched his cheek.

Sammy froze at the unfamiliar contact.

"Do not be the afraid, boy."

Sybill paused.

"I can help."

Another pause.

"My sister too."

Sammy began recounting a tale that sounded as though it had been taken directly from a Silvester Holmes mystery.

The ever-evolving politics within the castle had taught Sammy to keep a few weapons nearby.

As the crown prince, his life was always in danger.

That night, a sudden disturbance sounded outside his room.

Sammy sat up at once.

The castle had taught him never to ignore strange noises, especially at night.

He grabbed the small knife and pouch of magical black soot he kept nearby and shoved them inside his coat.

A moment later, the door burst open.

Before he could react, someone seized him, bound his wrists and ankles, and dragged a rough black sack over his head.

For hours, Sammy could only hear wheels rattling over uneven roads and horses moving somewhere ahead.

Cold air slipped through the fabric from time to time, and every sharp turn knocked him against the side of the carriage.

When the sack was finally removed, he squinted against the sudden light.

Tall pine trees surrounded him, and the air smelled of damp earth and sap.

A giant bald eagle circled overhead while unfamiliar birds called from deeper in the forest.

Several veiled figures stood around him with weapons drawn.

Sammy tried bargaining with them.

Then he pleaded.

They refused to listen.

The ropes around his wrists had been loosening little by little during the journey.

Whenever his captors looked away, he twisted his hands against them until he could finally move his fingers.

"This boy is a menace," one of the veiled figures muttered. "Take your eyes off him for a moment, and he will slip right through your fingers."

"We have to finish the job," another replied. "Otherwise, the consequences will be disastrous."

Sammy resisted and struggled as kicks, jabs, and punches rained down on him.

Pain shot through his arm and leg, but he continued fighting against the ropes.

One of the veiled figures drew a sword while another raised a bow.

Sammy bent forward and caught the pouch hidden inside his coat between his teeth.

He squeezed his eyes shut, held his breath, and shook his head violently until the pouch tore open.

Magical black soot burst into the air.

The captors shouted as it clung stubbornly to their eyes and faces. They rubbed desperately at it, but that only spread it further.

The fine soot particles caught in their throats as well, making it difficult for them to breathe.

He pulled hard against the ropes around his wrists.

His hands slipped free.

He reached for the hidden knife and cut through the ropes around his legs.

Then he ran.

Branches struck his clothes as he pushed through the trees.

Behind him, he could hear angry voices and footsteps crashing through the undergrowth.

He kept running until his lungs burned.

Then, without warning, an invisible force caught hold of him.

A piercing tone filled his ears as pressure closed around his entire body.

And just as suddenly, it stopped.

The forest was gone.

Sammy had entered an entirely different world.

Meanwhile, as Sammy had been recounting everything, Sybill had quietly kept herself busy around the cottage.

A loaf of bread baked in the oven while another ball of dough kneaded itself upon the wooden counter.

Fresh fruit floated in through the open window, bringing with it a cool breeze and the faint scent of grass.

Apples, pears, and berries settled neatly onto a plate beside Sammy.

The kettle whistled as a few eggs drifted in from the chicken coop and cracked themselves into a heated pan.

A spatula flipped them while the salt shaker sprinkled seasoning over the top.

Outside, one of the Bulbous cows gave a low moo.

By the time Sammy's story came to an end, the cottage smelled of warm bread and cooked food.

Sybill flicked her wrist.

The pan floated from the stove and tipped the eggs carefully onto a plate.

She placed it in front of him.

Then came the fruit.

Then a thick slice of warm bread.

Finally, she set down a small bottle filled with pale pink milk.

Sammy stared at it.

Pink milk.

His eyes slowly moved towards Sybill.

She looked back at him as though the bottle contained the most ordinary drink in existence.

Sammy looked at the milk again.

Then at the food.

He was far too hungry to question any of it.

Sybill might not know human, but even she understood that the boy was hungry and sleepy.

Sybill remained nearby while Sammy ate.

For the first time in longer than Sammy could remember, nobody was trying to poison him, kidnap him, threaten him, or decide what political purpose he was supposed to serve.

For once, he was safe.