Growing up, Arthit almost had everything any child could ever asked for. His father's achievement became the 'deal' and his family became the royal they never was. He was surrounded with people who worship and respect them, provided with things that were mostly limited to others, education that only given to the upper class family of the kingdom, a mother who was caring and kind and a father, his ever great father, who cherished him and protected him at all cost. Although sometimes there was too much protection, he felt suffocated.
Arthit was grateful for everything to be honest ,but, he was not happy. He felt incomplete, empty.
It was as if there was something he needed to feel whole. He never felt iy before but he knew that he wasn't.
As a kid he was not joyful as they thought he was. He pretended most of the time laughing, being the kid they knew but what they didn't know, was, it was all an act. It was easier to explain why I am full of glee than when I am not. Questions after questions I cannot stand. Thus, better show them what they are expecting.
It continued until he reached his 6th year. Yes, he was young, but he was that smart already. Although, no one noticed. When he turned six, out of nowhere, he heard a voice inside his head. Arthit thought it was just something he heard somewhere and it ended up not the case.
It was a voice that was full of agony, longing, freedom. A hurting voice just wanted to be free from something that was trapping it from being so.
Arthit was just six but he knew well that if a person who suffer from this kind of thing, they would be treated as someone who was bewitched by unknown creatures and would be banished from the kingdom. Worse, hanged or killed. Young as he was, he also knew that it would tarnish their name, something his father would never allow, so, he kept it for himself.
What he didn't know, the voice would be sucking his energy, his life source.
His family thought that he was just not a healthy person and left the topic alone. He became skinny, pale and no energy at all.
Because why wouldn't he? In reality no one knew of, not even Arthit, the voice was connected to the Demon King that his father killed. A connection formed sometime before the King was put into sleep decided by none other than, the fate.
The Demon King was slowly getting his power back through the young kid, Athit. Slowly eating it all without killing the host. And Arthit was feeding it generously.
Why? Well, without Arthit understanding anything, somehow it filled something within him.
It was only years after when the latter finally realized what was actually happened and happening to him. He was getting weaker while the voice was getting stronger.
Arthit changed from being the pretentious happy-go-lucky child to a not-pretentious-at-all child. He dropped all the act he was tired of doing. He felt he doesn't need to hide his real self anymore. He doesn't need to prove himself anymore.
The young man became quiet, passive, distant. To others he seemed lonely and aloof but Arthit felt nothing but different. He wanted him to be that way.
And Arthit was happy. Full of life and complete. He was contented with the way his life was going to while the voice that became his companion throughout the years. He was so alive! Better than with the everything his parents ever presented to him.
Arthit never felt alone with the voice constantly talking, maybe not to him nevertheless, talking. He sometimes make conversation to it and even it never responded back, he still felt the same. Contended, happy, complete.
Years later, 23 years to be exact since that day, Arthit felt something was about to happen. He was fidgety. Not feeling it before, he knew it was about to happen. Sensitive to an extent that if someone touched him, there would be pain all over his body.
