In a large courtroom, an austere space, one dominated by a raised platform where the judge presided. The walls were painted a dull beige color, and the only adornment was a large state seal hanging behind the judge's chair.
Rows of benches, their dark wooden surfaces polished to a high gloss, faced the platform; it provided seating for the spectators.
The ceiling was high, and the air felt heavy and oppressive. At the front of the room, a wooden railing separated the spectators from the legal professionals, who occupied a raised area opposite the judge.
The judge watched as the lawyers of both teams made their points. He wanted to finish this up so he could go home to his wife, and from the evidence presented. The man already knew his verdict.
"The custody of the child, Romano…will go to Katrina Remin," the judge said from the top of the podium before hitting the sound block with a gavel mightly. Therefore, declaring his verdict and judging the fate of the family. No surprise. This case was a case of domestic violence.
"This is unfair, your honor!" Derrick shouted; his spit staining the stands; his voice permeated the court. "That bitch doesn't deserve—"
"Mr. Derrick, please!" The judge said with a frown and a tint of scorn. He needn't deal with arrogant shit, who thought he could challenge him.
The judge said with a raised voice, "I urge you to respect your language. We are in a courtroom…for god's sake!"
Derrick possessed a bloated stomach and a rough raven-colored beard stained by a white powder-like substance.
"I mean, this… woman!" Derrick looked at Katrina with contempt. His gaze screamed for her unfortunate demise. "Will not have my child. She is not qualified as a mother, neither is she qualified to raise him to be a man!"
"I understand your 'concerns' as stupid as they may be, Mr. Derrick, but the ruling has been declared." The judge removed his glasses and stared down Derrick with a gaze that has seen the worst humanity has to offer.
The judge paused and emphasized. "It can not and will not be changed."
"…!" Derrick balled his fist in fury, bulging veins shaped on his cherry forehead. He knew he was going nowhere. He began to make up an assumption that his former wife slept with the man.
Derrick suddenly screamed. "Motherfucker! That is my child! And forgive me for my language, but your ruling is bullshit, and your profession is bullshit!"
"Mr. Derrick, calm down this instance!!" The judge boomed out at the insolence in 'his' courtroom. But Derrick's mental faculties have long stopped their normal processes.
"Shut up… and fuck you!!!" Derrick said. He pushed everything on the stand and stepped down. He trod to Katrina with hasty steps while breathing heavily.
The guards became alert and watched him like a hawk. They prepared to bring him down if he dared to be violent, but Derrick wasn't here for his wife. No. He pointed his hands to Romano — his son.
"Boy, come with me!" Derrick declared, making it clear he would not take no for an answer, but Romano hid behind his mother. He shivered despite the warm room, and his breath became raspy.
"Boy!" Derrick's face squeezed in on itself. He commanded with a tone that failed to contain his unrestrained anger.
"He will not leave with you!" Katrina said as she looked Derrick dead in the eyes.
"I see!" Derrick nodded his head. He glanced at the buff security men, and his hands tightened. One of the guards smiled while looking back at Derrick, daring him to act.
Derrick, who tightened his hands, released them in frustration and proceeded to walk away, heading to the exit, but he left leaving one word in as he glanced back.
"That boy won't survive without me, Katrina, and you know it!" Derrick's form morphed into a mist that dissipated and flew to the wind.
The courtroom followed. Soon, all that was left was a dark abyss.
…
Alistair woke up in a panic, his breath erratic and his sweat dripping continuously. Alistair glanced around with apparent fear in his eyes. But, everything he witnessed was a recollection of the long-hidden past.
'A painful time!' Alistair thought before staring up in his crib, using the appliances in his room to distract him and calm his racing heart.
Alistair tried to meditate. He learned it from his friends; it was called pranayama meditation. Furthermore, since this world was magical, he hoped that performing it would give him supernatural powers.
After some time, his erratic emotions were reduced to an acceptable level. Alistair successfully compelled himself to return to sleep. The brilliant and beautiful moon lit up the room with its radiant light, indicating the time still hovered around 3-6 AM.
However, Alistair's dream was not about his depressing and empty past, but his present life. One covered with countless mysteries yet to be unlocked, and his brilliant future yet to be uncovered.
However, when he departed into the land of dreams, Alistair did not notice the peeking eye peeking through the gap in his door.
Penelope tearfully watched her newborn child as he woke up and slept back.
"Can't sleep?" A voice jokingly said from Penelope's back — it was Revan's. He came next to her and watched as Alistair slept.
"Yes, I am… scared!" Penelope said shakily, as she glanced down in sadness.
"I understand," said Revan slowly. He understood what she meant because he felt the same way. In the hospital when he rushed through the door and set eyes on Alistair. His heart stopped.
"What if we fail? We won't be able to go back, no retries, no comebacks!" Penelope started panicking. She looked into Revan's eyes for comfort.
"What if I am not cut out to be a—"
"Don't say that," Revan said as he hugged her. "You are more than qualified; I believe in you, so will you believe in yourself!"
"I… alright!" Penelope answered, her voice revealing she wasn't convinced by her answer, but it was better than before.
"Now go to sleep!" Revan declared. He woke from a sudden noise and found that Penelope wasn't in bed. He dashed here and found her watching Alistair. Although touching, it was not healthy for a pregnant lady to be doing this.
"I am not sleepy!" Penelope answered. However, her baggy eyes were not convincing anyone: Revan let her go and stared at the bags under her eyes.
Revan smiled, with his eyes calling her out on her bullshit, and Penelope looked away from it.
"Go to sleep," Revan said, his tone not giving her any chance to deny it.
"I don't want to!" Penelope said but yawned afterward and blinked multiple times. She struggled to stand as she wobbled about like a drunkard.
Revan raised his eyebrow and frowned. Eventually, Penelope relented.
"Fine!" Penelope agreed to her husband's persuasion, and she dizzily wobbled to her room.
"Sleep well, son." Revan glanced at the room again and chuckled before closing the door, leaving Alistair alone with his dreaming devices.