Being drawn at high-speed by four large silver-eyed beasts, was an oversized black carriage with gold accents. Inside, lounging on an elaborate padded bench, a youth lazily combed his fingers through his spiky midnight blue hair. Despite his appearance, nearly indistinguishable from a man in his twenties, he was a demon north of four centuries old.
“Forgive me, my prince, but why do you insist on challenging High Lord Ose at close quarters?”
The prince looked across at his elderly vassal, meeting his hooded eyes. A former assassin, the centuries for which they had known each other had truly taken their toll on the vassal’s lust for battle. Had anyone else asked such an inane question, he likely would have disposed of them straightaway. “Heinrik, the King of Hell cannot be weak in any sense of the word. Ose’s Flair makes him the ideal sparring partner for physical combat. Whether I ever obtain a victory against him is irrelevant. Were I not learning something new from each bout, he would never land...”
“My prince?”
“Brace yourself, Heinrik.”
The older demon’s perception wasn’t on a par with the prince’s, so he took him at his word. He fished out four small throwing knives from inside his jacket, useless weapons in the hands of another who lacked his pinpoint accuracy and skill, undiminished even in his advanced age. There was howling from outside as their carriage skidded to an abrupt halt on the ancient cobbled road they were traversing. Following the sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone, it was silenced. Someone approached and ripped the carriage door off its hinges with their gauntlet-covered hands.
Remaining stretched out along the bench as an all too familiar face peered in at him, the prince said, “Misery, you better have a magnificent reason for this disruption.”
The tall demon whose well-trained muscles were buried beneath heavy armor, yet added to his hulking physique, said, “Prince Resent, you are to be detained for the murder of King Strife.”
As soon as the final word left his lips, Resent burst out laughing. Rising to his feet and striding forward, he said, “Next time you find yourself feeling frolicsome, General, perhaps spare four of my finest hounds in your hoax. Now, have your Brutes secure me a new carriage before I become violent.”
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Misery blocked the exit with a great sword nearly equal in length to his body. “Have you ever known me to engage in such buffoonery?”
Resent stared hard into his entirely white eyes for a long moment. “Father is dead? Truly?”
“Cease playing the fool. We are all aware that tensions had been especially high between you and the king as of late. You have always been even more power hungry than most of our kind, but to go this far...I believed you were above this.”
“This is absurd,” Heinrik snapped, his typically thin voice deepening with indignation. “The prince and I were visiting Erodis for the past several days, whereas the king was surely in the capital. What evidence could there possibly be that he is responsible for this?”
“And did you watch him for every instant of this excursion? Do not feign ignorance. He uses a carriage for the benefit of those with whom he travels. Alone, he could span the distance between the two great cities in minutes,” Misery said. Turning to Resent, he added, “Furthermore, these are not baseless accusations. We have several witnesses who swore even under the most rigorous torture that they saw you kill your father. Now, come quietly so this does not end as badly as it could for you.”
Resent pursed his mouth in a smirk, his stare never shifting from Misery’s stoic face. “Return to the castle, Heinrik.”
“But, my prince, I can—”
“There is no need. One who should know my capabilities better than any not only refuses to kneel to his new ruler, but has deluded himself into thinking he can defeat me.” The prince’s violet eyes lost all humor, taking on the cold focus of a predator locked onto his prey. “I suppose I ought to rectify the notion.”
Noticing his steel-clad soldiers were heading toward the side door through which Heinrik was taking his leave, Misery said, “Let him be. He was a loyal servant to King Strife long before the prince’s birth. He has no involvement in this.”
Once Heinrik was out of his path of destruction, Resent stretched out a hand and black fumes with purple undertones flowed from it. Misery leapt away as the darkness swirled, tearing the sides and roof from the carriage in an explosion of glass, wood, and steel. With the perpetually hot winds at his back, from the carriage’s remains, Resent looked down upon the royal guard. Those whose sole task had been to protect he and his father. Standing there in their horned helms, tightly gripping spears and blades in trembling hands, as if any of it would give them the slightest chance against one of his caliber, they had failed utterly.
“Oh? I see some of you have remembered you have good reason to fear me. But your sense has returned far too late. For the all-around incompetence you have displayed, your lives end here,” Resent said with indifference.
And the nebulae at his command began the slaughter.