For the first time in a very long time, I had a dream.

I dreamt that the king sat on his golden throne, sipping on some of the best wine the Bastion of Hope had to offer him.

His wife sat beside him, looking as ghastly as ever. Their children were nowhere to be seen.

There were no others.

No line up from wall to wall of soldiers, no bishops or holy men whispering false messages of fallen gods into the King's ears.

There was no need.

The hall leading to the throne was decorated in the blood of fallen magical beings and humans alike. Pieces of fey, elf and giant could be seen strewn across the floor.

A solitary human soldier, decorated in war emblems, hung from the ceiling of the throne room, almost perfectly sliced in half.

"One day we would meet, as one King to another." The One True King bowed to me, a bow only the King was allowed to perform.

"As one King to another, your men have fallen. Your city burns, and you sit upon your throne drinking your diluted wine. Have you prayed to a god yet? There is still time." This voice was not mine, but it seemed very familiar to me. "I am a merciful vessel of the gods, I can at least afford you this."

"Vessel of the gods..." The One True King rotated his magical energy, and the alcohol within his body evaporated. "Once, when I was a boy, I was granted a vision by a seer. The seer showed me this very moment, where we would stand toe to toe. He showed me the results of this battle. I am destined to die here." The One True King chantlessly spit fire from his mouth toward his wife.

Under the immense pressure of the fire, her body quickly charred and any remnants of her life were extinguished in cleansing flame. Her scream lasted from the moment the fire touched her body until her vocal chords melted from the high heat. Before she died, she let out a small smile toward her husband. I watched on, half impressed, but I do nothing to stop it. I would not have shown her such a merciful ending.

Suddenly, I am no longer looking at the King. I instead am looking at a red headed man with red eyes, writhing under the weight of his own broken mind. Watching the queen die triggered something within the King of Demons. I see memories of his lover, Rin, dying; as if they had broken free from being bound in shackles in the back of his mind. The memories struggle to be seen, as if fighting against an invisible foe for his attention. They directly conflict with the mind magic the wraith using Rin's body had put on his mind.

What is a wraith? The King knows what a wraith is. It is a soul without a body, a wisp that seeks vengeance and cannot ascend to be with the gods until it gets revenge.

Why do I see through the eyes of the King?

"My purpose here is not to live, but to free you from the shackles that were placed on you. The fey that gave me the vision also took something dear to me. He took from me the ability to dream. Since I met him, I have only ever had nightmares of the most horrifying nature. Such was my burden to bear." The One True King bowed his head, thinking of the many restless nights he had suffered through.

Räel's mind reeled from the fight between the memories he thought to be real and those that had struggled to break free from his chained mind. Blood ran from his eyes as his mind tore apart under the weight of the cursed mind magic.

Then all went quiet.

I no longer see from the point of view of the One True King or the King of Demons. It is as if I am just a watcher on the wall. Their minds are an open book for me to read.

The so called King of Demons once more regained his composure, and stared at the One True King. I could tell just from looking at him, that the mind magic that he had been cursed with no longer has a hold on him. His strength has returned, and he seemed no longer an autonomous tool of the wraith.

"What was the name of the fey creature who granted this vision to you?" His breath is haggard, but his eyes shine like an ever-burning flame.

"He had no name, as far as I can tell." The One True King is nearing his end, I can sense the death surrounding him. "The other slaves only called him "The Dream Eater".

The King of Demons hoists his heavy hand, ready to deliver the final blow to the human King.

I smell the scent of death coming off the King of Demons as well. Suddenly a thought had occurred to him. Perhaps the fey were the ones who made the roiling fog of red death.

These thoughts are not my own but I see them as such. They belong to the King of Demons, but I cannot control them.

I see his contract with the magical fey. The sneer of disdain as the fey warriors conscript to his army. I see the fey leader, dressed in tribal clothing, with vibrant wings of pink and purple.

What is the roiling red mist? I scour his mind and I see the roiling red mist is the core of his being. In his mind, the roiling red mist has made him what he is. An immortal King with no purpose. When he dies, it brings him back to life, back to where the mist churns, unendingly. Back to the grave of his first lover, Calista.

As the King of Demons hesitates, the One True King has time to cast a hastened version of his strongest magical ability. Not holding back, the One True King unleashes all of his magical power as an amalgamation of the five elements, colliding against each other to form a colossal amount of force.

The King of Demons struggles but he cannot contain the force. His magical power works perfectly with his physical prowess, as he attempts to shield his body from harm.

The smell of death becomes stronger.

The One True King falls to his own spell as his magical power has become completely exhausted. The backlash of the spell breaks everything in his body and shatters his mind. His breathing is heavy, and then all of a sudden it stops. A grey wisp gently glides out of his mouth and disappears from my sight.

Was that perhaps the One True King's soul?

The smell of death has reached its peek.

The Fey leader has finally arrived on the scene. The so called King of Demons is breathing heavily, with unstable magical energy.

Once more, a sneer forms on the face of the Fey leader.

Before the King of Demons can fight back, the Fey leader snaps his fingers and whips of vine appear from beneath the tiles of the throne room. The vines attach themselves to the arms and legs of the Demon King, and he can do nothing but attempt to resist.

The Fey leader does not bother explaining his master plan. He rips out the still beating heart of the King of Demons and devours it hungrily.

When he is finished eating, he spits out a shining red orb the size of a human palm. It looks as if the roiling red mist has been sealed inside.

The stench of death is heavy from the slowly dying King of Demons. I almost feel sorry for him. He has finally put it together, he was just a carrier of a unique disease. So long as that thing was inside him, incubating, he had immortality.

He should have known. Fey are notorious for playing mean tricks on those they do not approve of. The meanest trick of them all would of course be immortality.

If he could go back, he could save them all. His village, his elders, his first lover, Calista, and his last, Rin. He could have saved his child. However there is no time altering magic, not on the scale he hoped for.

His last breath approaches, he can feel it getting caught in his throat. He coughs it up, the last one, and his soul leaves his body. He knows, this time, there is no reincarnation for him.

The Fey leader pockets the red orb and walks away as if the death of the King has nothing to do with him.

I awake from the dream. There is a taste in my mouth that brings to mind the smell of sulfur and blood.

It is now morning and I am still hugging the body of Anna, whom I had joined with the day before. Now we are of both mind and body.

The dream from the night before sticks to my mind, even as I got about my normal actions.

Grand Mage Archus finds me in the morning, and I can tell he is impatient to tell me something. I make him wait, because I know how he is. If he lets go of a secret too quickly, he ends up getting angry at himself every time.

After an hour of making him wait, when he seems like he can no longer keep it in, I ask him what is on his mind.

Finally he blurts out that the Kingdom has encountered and successfully captured the first of the magical beings sent to scout our forces.

It is an elven male calling himself Beyrut Swiftfoot. A bit on the nose if you ask me.

Grand Mage Archus lets slip that once they are done with the interrogation, the elf will be sent to me for my experiments.

How fortuitous, now I have something to test with.

From my understanding of magical beings based on what I have read, not many require words to cast spells as humans do. Most magical beings have stories of inheriting the blood of fallen gods, transforming their bodies to allow them to survive in the harsh world. This has left them with natural gifts, as opposed to learned abilities. Where they need only master their gifts from birth, humans may or may not even carry within them the seed of magic.

The Grand Mage has noticed that I am rather deep in thought and has chosen to leave. Forgive me, elder, but this sudden news of a test subject requires all of my focus.

I must return to the lab, I tell Anna to guard the door to my private room and tell Kinsey to go on to the school without me. I connect to her mind through the string and send her more of my magical energy, enough to teleport her to school without issue.

Her face turns red when I send my magic coursing through her body. To her, it would be like a thousand fingers gently sliding across her skin. I do so enjoy her reaction when I do this to her.

Now back to the task at hand, I have a throng of potions I intended to use but they all seem inadequate now that I have an actual test subject.

Time to begin. Two parts radamans nail, three parts daze flower, one part queens tear. Each part costs me fifty gold coins besides the daze flower, but it was easily worth it. If this works, it will serve as a good potion to begin with.

I take out my medicinal kiln and place the ingredients inside. Focus, this is important. The five steps to a good potion.

One, Control. Control the flame, bring it from a single point to a slow simmer. Let it breathe and break down the ingredients to their original form.

Two, Destroy. The ingredients are fully melted beneath the pale blue flame. Now, before it has congealed, I pour my magical energy into the kiln.

Three, Separate. The magical ability is absorbed by the handles of the kiln and fed into the medicinal pot. The magical energy keeps the melted ingredients separate while I maintain control of it.

Four, Create. Once the fire dies out, I slowly remove my magical force from the kiln and it slowly mixes the separate ingredients together. This allows me to control the reaction.

Five, Finish. I add the final ingredient to the kiln, the petal of the blood rose. The ingredients have combined completely and are now fusing with the blood rose petal. It breaks down slowly from the already heated combination of ingredients and gets absorbed without issue.

I have done well if I do say so myself. The entire process, from start to finish, has taken roughly seven hours of refining. Even if I am a Grand Mage, such taxing work can only be washed away.

I open the connection to Anna's mind and catch her playing with the White Tiger Cub instead of guarding. Well, I do not know what I was expecting for seven hours of guard duty.

Kinsey is busy deconstructing one of the potions I made, the Beast Call potion. I will never understand why she does not just ask me what the ingredients are. Knowing the answer is always the best part.

I tell her to fetch Kinsey and run me a bath. Today I will partake of both their bodies, so I can finally compare them for the purpose of gathering data.

Oh right, I need to think of a name for the potion I just brewed. Something unique, and befitting the qualities it will have when consumed by the magical being.

Daze flower to confuse the imbiber, radamans nail for the psychic hallucination, queens tear to dominate the mind. Then the blood rose petal to combine them all into one concentrated attack.

Ah-... I got it.

The Mind Flaying Potion.