Demus: The Prince And The Milkman

Spiderweb Cracks

A milkman? But this person was hardly over Jan's age, maybe sixteen or seventeen! He was a milk boy, more like. And what was going on? Jan didn't have a milkman, and he told the boy so. 

"I don't have a milkman, silly," Jan shouted to him. "I've never had one!"

Milk, though... he remembered what it was like back when he was in the castle, rich and creamy. Every evening, he would ask for a glass of milk from his mother. The castle cooks would give him little sips of milk and cream when the others weren't looking. He remembered drinking a bottle in the courtyard and watching clouds go by, the occasional bird singing a sweet melody. 

It did sound lovely this hot afternoon. Disi let out an approving and pleading whine as if he too could remember what milk was like and wanted a drink. 

"Well now you do," the boy shot back up, interrupting Jan's train of thought. "Anyway... where's the door to the tower?"

"Doesn't have one," Jan replied snarkily. 

The boy hesitated. " Then how will we get the milk up there?" he asked, pointing to the tower.

Jan realized this was quite a predicament. The tower was high up, and the only way in would be through a door of sorts... but as mentioned before, there were no doors in this prison-like tower.

And the only dragon here was scared of heights. Great. How would Disi even get out in the first place? The hole that the postman used was a tiny slit in the bricks. There was no way Disi would fit.

But milk...

So immersed in his thoughts was he, Jan almost didn't hear the boy speak. "Will your highness please come down so we can talk easier?" he asked, nearly making Jan jump. 

"Whatever," Jan muttered, retreating from the window to gather Disi in his arms. "Can you believe this guy?" he whispered to the dragon. "So rude!"

Disi sent Jan a look that said, You're going to go down the stairs though, right? Manners first, Jan. 

Sighing, Jan nodded. "...yeah, whatever Disi. You're worse than Mom was." 

He exited his bedroom and ran down the stairs, nearly tripping at the end. The closest window to the boy was in the dining room, which didn't have very comfortable chairs, so Jan slipped into the window frame instead. Disi, never one to miss a comfy place to nap, jumped onto Jan's stomach, and curled up. 

The boy smiled, seeing that Jan had come downstairs. "So how will we do it?" he asked.

Jan shrugged. "Hell if I know!"

The boy paused for a second, then seemed to think of something. "How much do you want the milk?" he called. 

What? How much do I want it?

"I mean," Jan hesitated. "A lot? I haven't had any in a long time," he admitted, shrugging. 

"How does food normally come in?" the boy asked.

Jan stopped. "I don't know," he replied. "I usually just wake up and there's food. I dunno if my dad's paying some fairy from the West Hills to teleport it in, but it just appears. But there's never any fucking milk!"

The boy raised his hands, laughing a bit as he tried to calm Jan down. "Chill, chill," he giggled. "Milk is good, but not that good. But you really want it?"

Jan nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, then we're going to need to find a way to get in the milk..." The boy's voice trailed off, as he was apparently thinking hard.