Chapitre 4: THE MOURNING.
The golden dagger sliced through the paper, reducing the portrait to tattered pieces. Yet its relentless blows persisted.
"How do you sleep, bastard, when I no longer haunt your dreams?"
The palace walls trembled, and servants cowered behind columns, avoiding notice.
"Fear not, death won't part us! Shatter your illusions; I grasp what I desire."
Finally, the portrait lay in ruins, the dagger discarded.
"Wine!"
The Prince's voice echoed, though it seemed he spoke to himself. Soon, a dozen servants entered, eyes downcast, each bearing a massive jug—the requested wine. The Prince seized the nearest one, draining it in one gulp. But instead of imbibing the second, he poured memories over the portrait's remnants.
"You taught me sacrifice," he whispered. "Something good for something even better. So why did it have to be you?"
The jug flew to the corner, and he sank to his knees, tears staining his face. The servants dared not disturb him, fearing the same fate as the portrait.
In this desolate state, the Advisor found him.
"Your Highness," he ventured. "You should wake up, Your Highness."
"What do you want?" The Prince's voice cracked. "Just leave me; I'm in mourning."
But the Advisor leaned close, whispering a revelation.
"In the Mortal Realm? Impossible! This can't be Him!"
The Prince sprang to his feet, torturing the Advisor's gaze.
"I must see my Father. Let me change my clothes!"
*Thx for reading.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
Uttophian
Uttophian OMD! The Prince… he’s the most perfect character: twisted, arrogant, contradictory, secretive and two-faced. The ambiguous hero or sophisticated villain will be seen later.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone