Lord Asmodeus watched as the scene again diminished and he found himself in the dark room once again. He spotted another glow in the distant and run to it as well. There, he saw himself again talking to Heracles in the throne room. On his face shone apprehension.
"Heracles, my son does not seem to be waking up. It's been over a week now since the incident and I'm not sure what he would be like when he wakes up so I want us to be the first to make a move." Lord Asmodeus announced. "Find some men and have them renovate his room. Remove anything that connects him to the outside world and close the window. Change the door and have it as a symbol to anyone who dares trespass." He ordered, only earning himself a frown from Heracles.
"But why your highness?" Heracles was failing to see why all these was needed.
"I realized that day that I could in no way kill my son but as long as he lives and that prophecy is yet to pass, he'll never be safe."
"I'm sure there is another way to help the boy than to have him locked up there in that room."
"There's none. I have taken my chances enough. Just do as I have ordered." The king said with finality, leaving no room for Heracles to try protesting. The man stared at the king long and hard and walked off silently with a shrug.
.....
A Month later….
The king was going about his daily affairs in the kingdom when a guard run to his end. He seemed to have been on the move for quite some time. The king stared questioningly at the guard with his arms folded behind his back. "Are you going to talk or not?" He asked.
"I'm sorry your highness, but there's something you need to see. It's about your son." The guard whispered in order to not have the people around hear him. The king on impulse started towards the palace. On his way, he asked, "Tell me what you meant by what you said." He ordered.
"Your highness, I'm afraid I cannot really explain it to you. It's strange." The guard explained as they kept walking ahead. Then, without warning, the king materialized himself to his son's room, leaving the guard startled, walking out there alone.
"Manners." He scoffed and rolled his eyes.
In the boy's room, the king stared in puzzlement at his son, seated at the corner with legs folded and arms resting over his folded legs, seriously chanting unfamiliar words as he kept absorbing the darkness into his now reddened flesh. Lord Asmodeus' eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets staring with mouth hanging loose. It seemed to him that the boy was absorbing the darkness. What did this mean? He wondered as he continued to watch him. As part of Lyc-demons' abilities, they could see clearly in the dark. This explained why he could see all that was going on in the dark room. Lord Asmodeus tried calling the boy, but he would not mind him. Was he avoiding him on purpose or just could not hear him? The lines on his forehead deepened more as he felt that sudden urge to dig deep into the issue.
Lord Asmodeus continued to watch more scenes of himself watching his son do the same thing several times in the room. As time went on, every time he asked the boy what it was that he was doing, all the boy would say was that he was feeding, but what did he mean by feeding? This, he could not understand. He realized that after the incident the other time, his and Eliot's relationship had not been like before anymore. The boy had grown colder and distant to him and as more time passed, he began to join them less at the table until it came a time he did not show up at all. Ravana always complained of how the boy was not eating and still managed to keep living. This, the king was slowly piecing the clues together. "I was feeding." He remembered the boy saying.
Nevertheless, he found the final piece of the puzzle the day he found out Eliot had secretly at night been visiting the cemetery and awaking the dead, creating a legion of rogues and undead men. As per his suspicion, he kept an eye on the boy and secretly followed him out of the palace, and that was when he pieced all the clues together. All this time the boy had been feeding on the darkness, it made him grow strong enough to awake the dead. So what it all meant was that, the boy all this while had been planning their demise right under their nose.
On impulse, the king materialized himself into Heracles' room. "Heracles." He called, startling the man awake from his sleep.
"Your highness." Heracles exclaimed and suddenly rose to his feet. "What brings you here?"
"Heracles. My son." Lord Asmodeus began, his eyes displaying a strong hue of despair. "He's been creating a legion of undead all this while." He announced.
"Huh?" Heracles' mouth fell agape. "How's that even possible?" He spoke in puzzlement.
"I don't know how, but what I do know is that we have to stop him immediately. I have realized that we have only until a day for a full moon. I'm sure he's been preparing for that night, where he would finally harness the true powers of his lycan side. We don't have much time Heracles."
"So what do you propose we do?"
"If we have only a day left to go then it means we'd have to some way catch him and stop him."
"Well, you did try to kill him once and failed, so how are we going to do this?"
"That's true." The king said thoughtfully, his hand resting on his chin calculatedly. "We don't have to kill him, if he's indeed waiting on the full moon then, we can just capture him and restrain him just to let the full moon pass. That should at least save us enough time to think of what to do with him until the next moon comes."
"That is not a bad idea either, but the greater question is, how are we going to get him in the first place? It is evident the boy has grown stronger now, strong enough to even create undead. A feat that only old dark faes with knowledge of dark magic can perform. Asmo, I hate to break it to you, but your son is even stronger than you now." Heracles ranted on.
"I know that Heracles." The king spoke sadly. "But we have to do something."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Heracles. It's about time we found ourselves some allies." The king announced with a mischievous intent hidden within his voice.