Closer

Chapter 2

        That night, Basal could hardly sleep. He spent most of the night packing, and repacking, and packing again with a checklist to make sure he got everything. When he was nervous or worried, Basal tried to prepare. Most often, he would over prepare. Any time his father was gone for longer than promised, the entire castle would be sparkling clean by the time he got back. 

Basal also ensured that he said goodbye to each and every one of the castle guards and the servants, knowing full well that he may never make it back home. The people who ran the castle were his family as well, and he knew that he would miss them dearly while he was in the Middle Realm.  

           Demons weren't immortal. Sure, they lived very long lives, but they could still be killed, and they had to die at some point. The Middle Realm was probably the deadliest of the three realms for demons, as they were used to their own realm. Besides, according to the Treaty of Separation by signed by all realms at the end of the Great War,  those of the Under Realm are not allowed to enter or fraternize with those native to the High Realm, and the same to be said for those of the High Realm. Hence, the High realm is eternally off-limits to those born of the Under Realm. The climate in the Middle Realm, which tends to be relatively consistent, differs greatly from the climate of the Under Realm, which comes only in extremes. It can be so hot that simply going outside would melt your shoes and burn your feet, or so cold that the lava pits freeze over. There is really no in between.  

      The other factor that made Middle Realm dangerous for those of the Under Realm was the excess of sunlight. Due to the Under Realm's location, the place was most often dark, at best, dimly lit. The sunlight in the Middle realm could cause great harm to an Under Realmer's sensitive skin. Although Basal had been born there, he couldn't remember any of the time he spent in his home realm. 

          After Basal had double- and triple-checked his bag to make sure he had everything, he laid down, still unable to sleep, and thought about what it would be like in the Middle Realm. He thought of all the new friends he would make and the new foods he would try(Under Realm food isn't exactly gourmet). Maybe he would even meet a cute person.......... 'Oh, man that would be great!' Basal thought. 'Someone to cuddle with......... demons aren't exactly cuddlebugs.'  

             Basal loved cuddles, and when he was little he would always fall asleep hugging a pillow. He did this until his father told him to stop, and that it wasn't right for a demon to like cuddles. Basal had always dealt with the widening gap between what he liked and what his father thought was 'right'. Fighting? Right. Basal didn't like fighting at all. He thought it was wrong to inflict harm upon others. Glitter? Wrong. Basal loved glitter, but it was among the many things his father deemed 'wrong'. From then on, he had always been afraid of showing a side of himself that his father thought was wrong. For Basal, control was essential. 

               As the sun(or, what counted as the sun there........ it was more like a very dim lamp), rose over the black mountains and lava pools of the Under Realm, a still-sleepless Basal lay in his bed thinking. Suddenly, his door was opened. Basal sat up to see his father standing at the end of his bed, holding a few packages. 

              "Are you ready to go?" The demon king asked. Basal nodded grimly. "You look terrible, did you sleep alright?" The worry for his son shown in his eyes.

               "Not really, I'm just so nervous." Basal smiled sheepishly. "And I kept imagining all the things I'm gonna do once I get there, like talking to actual, real life, human people, and eating lots of different foods, and-"

              "Basal." His father cut him off. "This isn't meant to be a sight-seeing trip. It will be very dangerous, and there will be many things you don't understand up there. I have with me a few things here to help you on your journey to the Middle Realm." He opened one of the packages he held. Inside was a ridiculously gaudy tye-dye disaster. The king held up a rainbow t-shirt with a giant mysterious symbol in the middle of it. Basal lit up like a Christmas tree.

                  "Do I get to wear that?!" He asked excitedly. The king chuckled. He knew the clothes would likely be his son's favorite aspect of the trip. 

           "Yes." he said smiling. "This style was a favorite of human culture when I last visited the Middle Realm." He pulled out a pair of oversized denim monstrosities with rainbow lining, and a necklace with the same symbol that was on the shirt. 

               Basal could hardly contain his excitement at the preposterous amount of colors bombarding his vision. In this moment, the fabric sitting in front of him was likely the brightest thing in the Under Realm, other than Basal's gigantic smile, which nearly reached his ears. He let out a high-pitched squeal.

            "I can't believe I'm actually going! Can I put them on now?" He looked at his father with awe and enthusiasm shining in his eyes. His father simply chuckled and nodding, handing him the clothes. Basal giggled maniacally as he rushed off to put on the new garments. 

~

          When Basal returned, his father had the rest of the packages unwrapped and spread out on his bed. There was what looked to be a script of some sort written in a language Basal couldn't read. All the scrolls in his father's study were written in the ancient language, full of various symbols and sometimes pictures. This text seemed to be an entirely different form of writing. 

        Next to the script, was a small and compact thing, that lay nearly flat, but obviously contained something. Basal went to pick it up first. He unfolded the contraption. Inside were a few plastic cards and some green parchment with more symbols that Basal didn't understand. His father took the parchment from him and began to explain what everything meant and how to use it. 

~

          A few hours later, Basal stood near the portal entrance site, at the edge of the Under Realm's borders. He had what he now understood to be a knapsack, or backpack with him, filled with the various objects required for his trip to the Middle Realm. Turning to look over his home for what could be the very last time, Basal waved to his dad and the various tortured souls and demons that had gathered to send him off. Almost everyone had tears in their eyes. After all, they had raised this bundle of (albeit blinding) sunshine for over 1,800 years, and now he was heading off to who knows where to pursue his quest. Even the cold-hearted demon king himself had shed a tear. Or fifty. While he was terrified for his son, he knew that Basal could handle whatever the Middle Realm threw at him with flawless ease. 

       With a final wave to his old life, the portal opened, and Basal stepped through and into his adventure.