The act of discovery happened close to dawn. As the years went by, the boy’s tottering progress, his teething, his measles, his fights, scrapes and bruises, under his mother’s tender directives; Alden watched all. He climbed to the top of the battlements observing the well-furnished house on the outskirts of town. Expenses paid for by the coffers of the crown. He observed all as a lion would groom a gazelle. As it was, the dagger linked them; a tie by blood. He was sure, one day, it would tempt the boy, just like it had taunted him to his first kill. It took your anger, your deepest desire and manifested it into an overflow of pure madness. Past the brink, it was something you could not come back from.

For Alden, killing a manservant had been a step in achieving his final goal; to preserve life in a state of immobility. A suspended reality where people could pass out their lives, with all their passions and explore the unlimited bounds of creativity. Minus the looming prospect of disease, of old age. All variables levelled out. He studied and poured over his ancient books like an alchemist, as Dr Jekyll schemed to separate the vices of man’s human nature into the vessel of Hyde. He wasn’t stupid. No sorcery could stop the inevitably of death. No man was immortal. In words, in thoughts maybe, but not on this real, god given earth.

But there was someplace else, with untapped and pure potential. He would live in this realm and reign over all, as the right and deserving King. This, was something he could do for the people. He would receive their thanks, appreciation and finally, their love.

The biggest irony, was that it was the boy that led him to this act of discovery. As Alden lay there in the early hours of the twenty seventh day of August, tossing and turning in sweat drench sheets, he sailed through the fog of dreams. Tossed over the wispy folds of colours, like a captain navigating the seven seas. Alden found himself on the outskirts of the familiar town, curving down roads he had only glimpsed from a distance. Just over his shoulder, a potent darkness wore its presence, a warm, foul breath that lingered in the spaces.

The toddler was squatting by a pond, scooping some strange glowing creatures with blue abdomens into a glass jar. His tongue poked out like a worm from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on fitting together the lid, making sure not to trap their luminescent gossamer wings. He completed his task with the care and precision of a surgeon. On the surface of the pond floated a slimy film. It reminded Alden of the soft skin of a belly button.

He was in the mind of his cousin.

He had barely laid a hand on him before the toddler shrieked, a long ear-splitting note as the glass jar shattered. Alden had placed a finger on his lips, the edges curling into a smile. It was the beginning of all things.

Filled with a perverse glee, he proceeded to enter the dreams of his parents. Navigating the dreams of the old, the young, poor, male, female. But, never animals. That’s where he drew the line. At first, he kept hidden, a prod in the spine, a monster in the darkness. By winter’s end, his actions became more threatening. The citizens recognised the roots of his hair like vanilla snow and the particular shade of his arctic blue eyes peeking from the corner of their dreams. To be so monitored by their prince, a basic violation, it curdled their blood. For years he tampered with their dreams, turning them into nightmares, and oh, how his strength grew and grew. No-one was safe from such deceit and trickery. They wished for his demise, yet too terrified, they could do nothing but stand vigil in their dreams until even their perfect little world resembled nothing but a cardboard cut-out, grey, colourless and worn at the sides.

But that was before the war. That was before he became king.

When the bloodless moon hid in shame, Alden had itched to re-enter the dreams of his cousin. Yet he also knew the power of the dagger. It would do its work. He had a killer’s instinct in him yet; and after he came of age, Alden would swoop in, the predator he was; just as he had planned, and he would take all he held dear.

And so, the tale began.