Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy) - Chapter 110: Chapter 110

Lord and Lady Packwood were awakened by a heavy pounding at the door. Lady Packwood shot up first, her husband scrambling to rise beside her. The sound came again, louder this time.
"What's going on?" Lord Packwood stammered, his gaze frantic as his wife grabbed for a silken robe hanging off a chair, swiftly pulling it over her shoulders.
"I'm sorry for waking you, my lordship," the voice of a servant called from behind the door, his voice tight with urgency, "but Lady Priscilla and Lord Peter have returned. They're waiting in the foyer as we speak--"
"WHAT!?" Lord Packwood gasped, launching himself off the bed.
The moment his feet hit the ground both husband and wife raced for the door, flinging it open. They rushed past the servant, tearing down the hall. Soon, breathless and frantic, the Packwoods hurtled themselves down the large marble staircase descending into the entrance hall.
And that's where they found them.
The sight before them was a parent's nightmare. Priscilla looked exhausted, her face streaked with dirt, sunken and pale. Sticks poked up from her matted hair, grime turning her blonde curls brown. Her clothes were ripped, the few remaining strips of pink from her tattered skirt plastered with mud.
Despite their daughter's haggard appearance, however, Peter looked far worse. His face was hollow with a sickly sheen to it, so ashen his veins were visible through his papery skin. Most disturbing of all were the vines tightly bound around his chest and mouth, twisting around his jaw like a muzzle that left only his nose and eyes visible.
Beside him were two others. The white-haired boy's head jerked up as they appeared, causing the attention of the young man at his side to snap to them as well. Wild curls surrounded his head like an explosion, the shadow of a beard creeping up his jaw. Despite his disheveled appearance, his face looked achingly familiar.
The moment Priscilla's gaze locked on her parents, she took off running, flinging herself into their arms just as they reached the bottom of the steps. Lady Packwood winced slightly at the stench but still hugged her daughter tightly, her husband doing the same.
"We were so worried," Lady Packwood choked. "We hadn't heard a word from you in weeks. I was terrified the murderous prince killed you too."
Priscilla blinked. "The murderous prince?"
Her father nodded frantically, pulling her closer. "You haven't heard? The crown prince went mad and slaughtered his own brother in cold blood before fleeing the capital. They've been hunting him for nearly a month, but it's as if he disappeared into thin air. It's all anyone's been talking about. How could you possibly not know?"
Priscilla swallowed hard, her gaze darting away. "We've been, uh...camping out in the forest."
"Dear God, why?" Lady Packwood breathed, her gaze falling to Peter now. "Peter," she called, "why are you just standing there?"
Her son didn't respond, causing Lady Packwood to stride towards him, her husband following close behind. She stared at Peter, realizing with a start how distant his gaze was, as if he couldn't even see her.
"Priscilla?" Lady Packwood asked, a shrill note of anxiety creeping into her voice. "What's wrong with him? Why is he with you and...goodness, darling, what the hell is with these damn vines? Are you two playing some kind of joke? Get them off him this instant!"
Priscilla's mouth tightened into a hard line. "Mother..." she said softly. "I'm so sorry."
"About what, darling?"
"That you have to see him like this."
Priscilla lowered her head, removing her wand. Taking a deep breath she gave it a light flick and murmured a spell. The moment it left her lips, the vines went limp, falling from Peter's mouth.
Instantly his screaming filled the hall.
It was a horrible sound, inhumanly shrill and one noted like an alarm bell. Lord and Lady Packwood gasped in horror, hands flying to their ears as they recoiled despite themselves. Priscilla offered them a long, apologetic glance before flicking her wand once more, the vines rising into the air and twisting back into place over Peter's mouth.
At last the sound stopped, the silence filling the air almost as loudly as the screaming.
"That isn't my Peter," Lady Packwood gasped, her voice breaking as she gently ran her fingers across his cheek.
Peter didn't respond, eyes still fixed in place, glassy and distant.
"What's wrong with him?" Lord Packwood choked, his eyes growing watery. "Who...who the hell did this to my son?"
"The Grand Emperor." The voice came from the curly haired man.
"The Grand Emperor?" Lady Packwood repeated, eyes going wide. "That's impossible."
"It's the truth," Priscilla whispered hoarsely. "When necessary, he uses the Royal Mages to fuel his own magic. To do so he has to break them, body and mind."
"I'm sorry," Lord Packwood rasped. "I just...I can't believe the emperor is capable of doing something so horrible."
"Really?" Priscilla asked. "Then see for yourself." As she spoke, she moved to Peter, tugging down the top of his robe.
Lady Packwood stumbled backwards with a gasp, the sound so loud it echoed through the entrance hall. All Lord Packwood could do was stare, looking as if he might vomit as the fabric gave way.
Peter's arm was missing.
There was nothing there to suggest it had been severed or removed naturally. It was simply...gone, as if it had vanished into thin air.
"The emperor took his arm to obtain Peter's magical essence," the curly haired man explained slowly. His voice was low but seething anger simmered beneath it. "The mages are nothing but livestock to him, ready to be brought to the slaughter whenever he needs them."
Lady Packwood had begun to weep, desperately cupping Peter's face in her hands. "Serving the Grand Emperor meant the world to Peter. How could he do something so horrible to our son?"
"It's not just Peter," the white-haired boy said. "And it doesn't stop with the Royal Mages either. For decades he's been killing countless innocents in the Icy Mountains to maintain his power."
Lady Packwood swayed, beginning to feel faint. Her husband quickly reached out to steady her. Despite this, she could feel his hands trembling against her shoulders.
"How the hell did you find out about this?" Lord Packwood croaked, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks.
"He told me himself," the curly haired one said, stepping forward. "He thought he could trust me. I was his favorite son, after all."
The Packwoods jerked backwards, terror flooding their gazes.
"You're..."
"The crown prince," Wheeler said softly. "Yeah."
The response sent both parents cowering in fear.
"He's not dangerous," Priscilla frantically cried out. "I promise. The killing of Prince Emeric was an accident that happened purely in self defense. The emperor may have twisted it, but I assure you—Wheeler would never willingly harm anyone." With a determined nod, she hooked her arm with the crown prince's. "He could have just escaped, but do you know what Wheeler did instead? He risked everything just to rescue Peter. If he hadn't, the emperor would've continued to butcher him without mercy. Your son wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for Wheeler."
The Packwoods calmed as she spoke, the fear slowly fading from their gazes.
At last, Lady Packwood bowed her head. "I'm sorry, my prince," she whispered hoarsely. "Thank you for saving our son. To think what that monster might've done to Peter if you hadn't..." Her voice caught on the words. Desperately she fumbled through her robe's pocket, removing a handkerchief which she pressed to her eyes in a futile attempt to stop her ever flowing tears.
"It's disgusting," Lord Packwood choked through a sob. "The emperor keeps getting away with these monstrosities all while the empire turns a blind eye
"They can't turn a blind eye if they're unaware," Wheeler said softly. "Until only an hour ago... didn't you believe your son was happily serving the emperor?"
Lord Packwood fell silent before finally giving a stiff nod.
"It's my belief," Wheeler continued, "that if the public learns the truth, the Grand Emperor will finally be held accountable for his crimes."
"You're right," Lady Packwood rasped, trying her best to hold back a second burst of tears as her gaze drifted to Peter. "He's butchering his own subjects like animals. To think I once supported such a man. It...it sickens me..."
"But even if the entire empire found out," Lord Packwood whispered, "he's still the emperor. He's above the law. How could he ever be stopped?"
"I think I might have the answer." Wheeler slowly lifted his head, his gaze burning. "We'll tell the public the truth. We'll get them as angry as we are. And then, at last— together we will overthrow him."