Straight through the mirror - Blind Guardian
The demon only chuckled as Maximillian ran.
Why run from the vessel? The demon asked slowly as Maximillian tore through the streets, away from the construct and from the palace.
I'm more concerned about the guards of the palace right now, to be honest, Max replied coldly. Can't you make me faster, too? He complained, hearing the guards shouting somewhere behind him.
There's only so much I can do in this state, Max, I'm keeping your somewhat unfit body from getting tired so quickly, stop whining. Really. I think you were given too many comforts in that place. Maximillian didn't reply, only shaking his head and continuing to run. Most of the guards had run out to deal with the murderous construct, but sooner or later - probably sooner - his absence would be noticed. After a while, a question jumped to Maximillian's mind.
That thing isn't following us is it?
Please, Max. No need to be so insulting to something that is connected to me. The demon's voice seemed to smile; Maximillian could imagine its grin - that is, if it had a face at all.
So what was that? A yes or a no? Maximillian's mental voice was spiked with irritation.
Of course it isn't following us. Not directly anyway. By the time we next see it, I doubt any of those guards will be alive anyway. Maximillian's stomach flipped at the demon's words. Your morals do amuse me, Max, the demon mused, really. Your kingdom is tearing itself apart and war is imminent - worse will happen during the battles there than a few dead guards. Maximillian didn't reply, he simply ran. He wasn't consciously making any decision about the direction he was running. All he knew was getting out of the city was a good idea. A very good idea.
He followed the familiar streets for a while, before finding himself down a dank alley. Abruptly, he realised that he wasn't in control of his body anymore, the demon steering him.
STOP! You can't just -
You wanted to get out of the city quickly, the demon snapped, cutting him off, and that's exactly where we're going, Max. So Maximillian shut up, though he seethed about the demon using his body as it would a vessel. He hoped fervently as his body ran that the demon couldn't touch his dreams, old memories, ambitions. They were his. They had to stay that way. His heart was his shelter for those things.
Now, though, Maximillian had a new dream in his mind, and he wasn't sure where it was coming from - not his powers, that was for sure. But it was of war and of death and an end to things as he knew them. He didn't know what to make of the images in his mind,
A crow cawed and he blinked, waking up from a walking slumber that he hadn't noticed swallowing him. The demon looked around the new surroundings and relinquished its control over his body. The city had dropped away from them and Maximillian hadn't even realised. They were in the woodland that caressed one side of the city. The bright hues of the greenery were so refreshing after the repetitive confinement of the palace.
Yet he so wanted to look into the mirror and see what was coming. He hated being used by the queen, he hated seeing straight through the mirror, the future, he hated seeing things that he would rather not know. But not knowing was almost as bad. And the demon's silence was actually managing to put him on edge as he wandered through the woodland.
Maximillian was walking for the sake of walking; it was something to do, something to clear his mind. He had to focus.
Just as he had gained some kind of mental calm, Maximillian heard muttered words to his right: ‘Blessings be on you. Blessings be.' He looked up and in the direction of the words, feeling the demon twist and roil in his mind uncomfortably.