The night is still young, he said.

It is too early to go to sleep, he said.

But we just arrived! he said.

The High Prince was full of energy despite being told off and punished by the Queen in a single day. According to his words, this was nothing. If anything, her mother had gone easy. 

The Little Prince was flummoxed by this information. He did not doubt her mother's strength and he knew she would not tolerate such carelessness, especially in front of anyone outside of the family. It was anybody's guess, he had thought, that the punishment the High Prince received from the Eye of the Empress would be rather painful, or harsh at the very least. He couldn't wrap his head around how his brother shrugged it off as if he was a character of some epic tale trying to show off by calling a giant wound “‘Tis but a scratch.”

When he expressed his concerns, the Little Prince had received the same, nonsensical answers.

“The night is still young.”

“It is too early to go to sleep!”

“But we just arrived!”

This was followed by a night of restlessness.

First, the three were instructed to clean the mess they had made because the High Prince had dropped the worms he was holding and hadn't realised his recklessness because he was too focused on running away from Bobathan.

Afterwards, they wanted to rest and decided to play cards. The High Prince attempted to cheat by swapping the cards while they were facing down through magic. This attempt was foolish, however: all participants of the game were Demons who were somewhat capable of magic. They both sensed the Essence consumption and were alarmed. Without even needing to resort to countermagic measures, they spotted the High Prince using hand signs under the table. He was immediately disqualified.

Bobathan underestimated the High Prince's astronomical ego and made fun of him for being so weak he had to use hand signs to cast spells. The High Prince was considerably offended by this statement, or that was how it came off because he requested a match of wrestling immediately after. He asked for it to be best of three, “not because I'd lose, but quite the opposite, so he can taste what it's like to lose” (a direct quote from the High Prince).

“Bring it on.”

Thereupon a wrestling ring was requested for the upcoming match. By the Little Prince's suggestion, they decided to use a ring made of magic for occasions like these. 

“How?” the other two questioned in unison.

Hence, the Little Prince showed them a simple spell.

First, they closed the doors to the living room to isolate themselves inside. The same process with the window. While the two complained about the lack of airflow, the Little Prince chanted:

Ey Lytiotypoe, şaşke fî-i misfekat eyle!

The ones next to the Little Prince were surprised at the sheer audacity of the words he had uttered. Like all Demons old enough to remember the times before Commonspeak, they understood Demonian despite not using it often. They had understood the chant and were bewildered.

Moments later, they heard the sounds of doors locking themselves. First, the door that opened to the hallway made a sound, then the door separating the living room and the kitchen. What followed was a loud explosion: the sound of glass shattering.

The window got destroyed as if it was hit with a sledgehammer. The pieces would have scattered everywhere, but before they could all land on the ground, they evaporated.

The walls started cracking slowly. There were black lines that surrounded the walls like ivy. The eeyorish lines elongated until the walls could no longer persist.

The walls imploded soon after. The particles of the walls were not even an iota of the former stout, vast appearance of the walls that surrounded them. The particles drifted in the air like the smell of wet grass wafting in the royal castle's garden.

When the walls imploded, they found a barren, white void in the rear. As the particles had evanesced, this whiteness they were encircled by became all the more overt. This void is reminiscent of blindness, yet it was a blinding light to no end of limitless extent. There was no shape or form. It was impossible to point out if they were in a room in the shape of a sphere, a rectangle like the living room or just a cube with equal corners.

It was as if the furniture had never existed to begin with. They were nowhere to be found. The space inside was so deserted the floor was questionable, as if the floor had not existed and that what they were walking on was just where the gravity pulled them towards. Had this place had even a sky? A roof that can be determined as some sort of boundary? 

Now, to proceed forward without perplexity, allow me to explain. What the Little Prince used is the Demonian counterpart of a spell of yore. It was created by monks of Ghostly origin to teach their pupils inner tranquillity. It is a spell that is created with the magically unproficient in mind so they can isolate themselves and focus on their meditation.

How this works is that instead of summoning or conjuring a domain, which would require a huge supply of Essence, or creating one from scratch, which requires not only a tremendous use of Essence but an incredibly vast imagination to thinker with the details and immense proficiency in magic to install one's realm outside of their mind, this simple spell uses a confined space and uses that as a domain. The spell then creates this domain inside of the user's mind by using the real-world isolated space as an example to copy the design and engrave it into the user's mind.

This would mean that, technically, it did not exist. This was because it requires a high amount of Essence not only to install this domain into existence and to preserve it for as long as needed and most amateurs would not have that amount of resources to work with.

Because this artificial realm did not exist, it would not need any resources to be allocated to it for it to be sustained. It is all in the user's mind, and therefore, it only uses the bare minimum of Essence similar to how one's body uses food to generate energy to sustain itself (in Khevreg, however, that only applies to Cryptids in terms of the four intelligent races).

In the Little Prince's case, he used more than the bare minimum because he also sent the High Prince, Bobathan and Bob into the artificial realm. This would have meant that the continuous existence of the artificial realm was still not a mundane task as he would have to continuously burn his Essence to sustain the guests inside.

The Little Prince, however, was not one of the amateurs the monks had in mind when creating the spell. He was not a master by any means, but he was not below mediocre, either. To be more concise, he was significantly more proficient than both his older brother and his younger sister. Combined with the extra Essence the Eye of the Empress supplied for them, it was not necessarily a tough task.

Lastly, he banned all magic inside the realm. Regardless, it did not affect the Little Prince himself because this was all in his head.

“Woah.” The High Prince exasperated. 

“What?” 

“What?”

“Yeah, no, sorry, I'm not impressed.”

“HOW??? THIS IS FUCKIN’ COOL!!” Bobathan roared with sparkling eyes.

“Didn't he just destroy your walls? What are you so excited for?” the High Prince asked.

“Oh yeah… What the hell, John?!”

“Can you not call me that? It is off-putting.”

“That's your name, though, isn't it?”

“My name is JOHNATHAN,” he raised his voice to emphasise, “Who is John, anyway?”

“Whatever, pay me back!!”

“It is not actually destroyed. I just used the living room as a basis for—”

“I don't care.” Bobathan cut him off. “If you're done showin off wanna tell us how this is supposed to help?”

“Yea, now that he said that, we agreed on a ring, not… whatever this is.”

“A domain,” the Little Prince corrected.

“And?” the High Prince questioned.

“It blocks the flow of Essence inside. In simple terms, you can't use magic.”

“Ohhhh. ‘Cuz it's a wrestling match, right? We only get to use physical strength?” Bobathan questioned.

The Little Prince nodded.

“I bet I wouldn't even need magic to beat Bob anyway.”

“We need a ring for that,” the Little Prince digressed, “So please help me move the table, Jim.”

“Hey!!” Bob bellowed while pointing at the Little Prince. “You can call other people nicknames but we have to say your full ass name?!”

“He never said he is against it. I have.”

“Okay, now I do, then! I want you to call me Big Brother from now on, no exceptions.”

“Isn't that very impractical?” the Little Prince asked while aligning the table and the chairs to form a circle.

“And you're tellin’ me calling you Johnathan every single time isn't?!” Bobathan bellowed again. 

“It is a personal preference.”

“Preference?! Weren't you the one who just said it's unpractical?!” Bobathan helped the High Prince move a couch to the opposite of the table as he spoke.

“Big brother is a nickname he wants me to call him, though. It is long and defeats the purpose of a nickname. Johnathan, on the other hand, is my name. They are fundamentally different.”

“Quit with yer fancy words and help us out, brat,” the High Prince backchatted. He pointed at the smaller couch, then continued pushing the larger, double-size sofa.

“Can't you call me by my name, too?” He clicked his tongue but helped out in the end. “It wouldn't kill you if you stopped calling me condescending sobriquets for once.”

“This is why that'll never happen. All those fancy words piss me off.”

“I reaaaaaaaally don't wanna agree with Jim… but…” Bobathan paused to wipe sweat off his forehead. He took his hat off and put it on the dining table they moved. “I sometimes wonder if Commonspeak is even common anymore.”

“Whatever.”

They perfectly aligned the ornaments inside of the artificial realm. The table was surrounded by its chairs, the bigger couches surrounded by the smaller couches and the gaps that declassified the shape as a circle were filled with unrelated other ornaments such as a commode and a coffee stand.

“And there you go,” the Little Prince spoke first, breaking the silence of three Demons panting. “A wrestling ring for you.”

“Where's the spectators?”

“Don't be greedy.”

“That would've been nice, though,” Bobathan agreed.

“Well, this is the best we got without disturbing the silence of the knight.”

“Disturb who? My parents would not get mad.” Bobathan paused. “Probably…”

“Well, it doesn't matter now. As the judge, allow me to explain the rules. First of all, the ring consists of the inner part of the circle created by the furniture. Any participant who makes physical contact of any kind with any of them will be considered out of bounds and will lose the round.”

The Little Prince paused. He was surprised both of them were listening. He continued his speech:

“Even if you somehow find a way to use magic, it is grounds for disqualification. Additionally, due to the difference in physical strength between participants, immobilizing your opponent is considered a win if the immobilized cannot escape within five seconds.”

“Tch.”

“You know it's true, Bob. Don't bother.”

“Asshole.”

“Lastly, I don't know how actual wrestling is supposed to be, so whatever I, the referee, decides is absolute and cannot be altered, argued or objected to.”

Both participants stared at him lackadaisically.

“Take stance. Ready, on my mark…”

He clapped twice.

“Go!”