Chapter 478: Meaning Of The Nightmares

Chapter 478: Meaning Of The NightmaresExiting Arlan’s chamber, they retreated to the lounge area where Sierra unveiled the truth about Oriana’s lineage and rightful place to Arlan. Arlan’s demeanor remained stoic, seemingly indifferent to whether she was human, witch, or demoness. For him she was just his Oriana.

Nonetheless, he inquired, worry laced his dignified voice "Lady Sierra, as you said Demons are waiting for their Princess, what will happen now?"

"They will seek for her even aggressively now," Sierra began, pondering the implications. "They’ve undoubtedly been searching for her since her birth. Yet, for reasons unknown, they must have failed to locate her."

"But aren’t they confined to the Demon realm? How could they venture out to seek her?" Arlan probed, asking everything in case he has to prepare to fight the Demons for Oriana’s sake.

As a Crown Prince, preparing himself for any coming battled and knowing about the enemies in depth was his nature. Enemies? Well, if Demons tried to covet Oriana, then they would be his enemies for sure.

"Indeed, they’re bound to the Demon realm and cannot depart. However, for powerful supernaturals Like Gods and Demons, there always exists the alternative ways which can allow them to reach Oriana without having to leave Demon realm," Sierra explained, "They might have already employed or could utilize such methods to reach her. With Oriana’s dormant powers unsealed and her demoness essence awakened, locating her becomes more feasible for them now."

"How can I prevent them from drawing near to her?" Arlan pressed with concern.

Honesty laced Sierra’s reply: "I cannot definitively say. The specific medium they might employ remain unknown to me."

"In that case," Arlan continued, seeking clarity, "could you shed light on potential mediums they might utilize?"

"Hmm," Sierra mused, reflecting on the matter before speaking. "Often, when barriers exist, the most straightforward approach to reach someone is through their dreams. Alternatively, they might also establish a connection with an individual from the human realm to locate Oriana by offering a reward in exchange."

"Dreams?" Arlan interjected, his gaze distant, lost in thought. "Such dreams could easily morph into nightmares for the individual."

"Has she experienced any reccuring nightmares?" Sierra inquired, seeking clarification.

"I’ve witnessed it twice when she had nightmare and both times her reactions were the same as if she was having the repetition of that nightmare," Arlan admitted. "However, upon my approach, she immediately finds solace, seemingly forgetting the ordeal by the next day."

Sierra probed further, "Does your mere presence alleviate her distress and dispel the nightmares?"

"I cannot definitively say it’s solely my presence," Arlan responded, his expression conflicted. "Perhaps anyone by her side offers her comfort."

"We should investigate this further," Sierra remarked, shifting her attention to Evanthe. "Prince Arlan, does Oriana possess an item she always keeps close, unwilling to part with it?"

After a moment’s reflection, Arlan recalled, "There’s a knife she once carried before assuming her role as a royal servant. Palace regulations prevented her from keeping it on her person, but I suspect she retains it somewhere, always close at hand."

He reminisced about the fervor with which she tried to retrieve that knife when he had playfully withheld it from her. It became evident that the blade held significance beyond its utility; it bore emotional weight for her.

"May we examine this knife?" Sierra requested, her curiosity piqued.

Arlan suddenly recalled setting aside the knife the previous night when he had changed Oriana’s clothes. Given his current inability to utilize his powers, he stood up decisively, stating, "I will bring it."

However, before he could act, Evanthe’s demeanor shifted noticeably, her expression gravely serious. "There’s no need," she declared. With those words, the knife materialized in Evanthe’s grasp, and she presented it to Arlan. "Is this the one you speak of?"

Arlan affirmed with a nod, "Indeed, that’s it."

Evanthe proceeded to unveil the knife’s significance, revealing, "This blade serves as a talisman. I bestowed it upon her during an eventful night when I aided her grandfather’s escape with her."

The revelation left everyone in stunned silence.

Evanthe continued her narrative, "That fateful night, the newborn Queen of Witches, Oriana, was inconsolably distressed. Given her unique status, I surmised that some unnatural force might be unsettling her. The moment I placed the knife beside her, her cries ceased. I instructed her grandfather to ensure the knife remained close, to shield her from any supernatural disturbances."

Realization dawned on Arlan. "So, this knife acts as her safeguard against nightmares, explaining her profound attachment to it," he mused aloud.

Drayce interjected, connecting the dots, "And those nightmares likely serve as the demons’ attempt to communicate and reach out to her."

"That seems like the case," Evanthe assured. "As we were talking about Oriana having nightmares and if your presence around her helps her, then it’s highly possible. This knife in fact contains the absolute darkness from the Devil himself and it gets rid of any ominous things troubling the person."

Drayce’s gaze intensified, reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern. ’Darkness from the Devil himself?’ Questions swirled in his eyes, wondering whether his mother had encountered the Devil or if the knife held another layer of significance.

Evanthe simply looked at her son as if to know what was going on his mind but both mother and son kept quiet. It was not the time to talk about their personal matters.

Evanthe resumed, refocusing the group’s attention. "Our immediate priority is to keep this knife away from Oriana temporarily, allowing her to experience another nightmare," she said, turning to Arlan. "Furthermore, Prince Arlan, you might need to distance yourself from her. Your inherent darkness could be a deterrent preventing the demons from establishing contact. After this controlled experiment, we’ll ascertain if your presence indeed shields her."

A look of reluctance shadowed Arlan’s features. "For now that is not possible. She is already weak and letting her suffer a nightmare in such a condition...I won’t stay away from her."

"I doubt when she is awake, she will let you around her so easily Prince Arlan," Yorian commented, "So you better start practicing staying away from her."

Yorian seemed still displeased with what Arlan did, though he understood Arlan’s intentions of protecting Oriana from that witch.

Arlan’s eyes locked onto Yorian, a clear display of his disagreement, even though he recognized the validity in the elf’s words. "I can’t support this experiment while Oriana’s health remains fragile. Waiting a bit longer won’t harm."

"I think Arlan is right," Drayce said as he could clearly understand his friend’s worry. If it was about Seren, Drayce would have done the same.

Both friends looked at each other which showed a silent understanding between them.

Both Evanthe and Sierra agreed in understanding. "While subjecting her to a nightmare in her current state would not harm at, but we respect your wishes. Let’s allow her the rest she needs." She turned to her son, "Continue using your essence of darkness to heal both Prince Arlan and Oriana."

Drayce nodded firmly, "I’ll ensure that."

With a graceful movement, Evanthe rose from her seat, signaling their departure. "We’ll take a leave for now."

Arlan’s expression was one of concern as he noted, "Oriana remains unconscious."

Evanthe reassured him, her voice gentle yet firm, "We’ll return soon. Before we depart for Agartha, I wish to spend some time with my daughter-in-law, Seren."

Arlan nodded in understanding, granting his consent.

Evanthe then turned her attention to Sierra, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Shall we visit your daughter? I sense your longing to see her has grown."

Sierra remained reticent, and the two women vanished from the scene. They reappeared in a secluded forest. Evanthe, sensing Sierra’s internal turmoil, gently probed, "Your demeanor betrays you, Sierra. What’s troubling you? You’ve yet to share something important, isn’t it?"

Sierra sighed deeply, conceding, "Indeed, there’s a matter I’ve withheld. Given Prince Arlan’s fierce determination to shield Oriana, I’ve been hesitant to disclose it."

"We’re out of their earshot now," Evanthe reassured. "Please, share your concerns."

Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Sierra confided, "Oriana’s true nature as a demoness poses a challenge. With her powers awakened, her human form may eventually prove inadequate. We might face a situation where sending her to the Demon realm becomes necessary for her cultivation."

Evanthe’s expression turned contemplative. "Prince Arlan would undoubtedly resist such a notion. However, if it ensures Oriana’s safety and growth, he would ultimately relent."

"I know, but for now I do not wish to burden him with this fact," Sierra showed concern, "Moreover, who knows we might end up finding another alternative to help her cultivate her powers."

"That is possible as well," Evanthe agreed, "But even if we have no other choice but to send her to the Demon realm, they are her own subjects who are waiting for her. They would not harm her, their Princess who they are waiting for long."

Sierra’s expression darkened, hinting at deeper concerns. "The issue isn’t about causing Oriana direct harm," she began cautiously.

"Then what’s the concern?" Evanthe interjected, sensing the weight of unspoken words.

"There is someone who might not let her go and make things difficult for Prince Arlan and Oriana. That person holds the reason to tie her to Demon realm, and separating her from Prince Arlan," Sierra said with grave worry, "Let’s leave. I cannot wait to see my daughter. Rest things I will explain on the way."

Recognizing Sierra’s reticence, Evanthe chose not to press but couldn’t resist a playful jab, "You won’t reveal to your daughter that you are her mother and you want to go there, you heartless woman."

Sierra shot back with a wry smile, "Pot, meet kettle. Remember the audacity of a mother who’d feign her own demise before her child."

Their shared glance conveyed volumes, a mutual understanding of the sacrifices and secrets they bore and how they suffered the pain of separating from their children. With heavy hearts and unresolved emotions, they disappeared into the unknown.