Xian knelt before the three freshly dug graves, fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white. Grief and rage warred within him as he gazed upon the mounds of earth, all that remained of his father, mother and younger sister. Only a few weeks past, this had been a vibrant kingdom, the Parsian Empire thriving under his father's wise rule. Now their homeland lay in ruins, burned towns and slaughtered citizens the only legacy left by General Agon's invading horde. And Xian had been powerless to stop it. He'd been away, leading men in a border skirmish, by the time word reached him of the invasion. By the time he raced back, it was too late. The capital city had fallen, his family cut down before the throne room. A shuddering breath escaped him. No more. He would see their deaths avenged, no matter the cost. Lifting his head to the darkening sky, Xian spoke the words that would set him irrevocably down the path of vengeance. "Hear me gods of my ancestors! On this night I swear, by my family's souls and the ashes of our fallen empire, that I will restore the Parsian people to glory. General Agon and all who stood beside him will know my wrath. This I vow - until my dying breath!" His oath carried on the wind, a promise that would drive him through every hardship to come. The fallen prince had become something more - the spark that would ignite rebellion's flame. Xian's grip on his sword tightened as memories of that fateful day washed over him. (Begin Flashback) It had been a day like any other when the first screams reached his ears across the battlefield. Xian spun his mount, urging the horse into a gallop as a sense of dread took hold. Smoke rose in the distance, obscuring the sun. As he drew nearer, the sounds of battle and death grew ever louder - but these were no practice drills. This was the real thing. Xian broke through the tree line and pulled his horse to an abrupt halt. Before him, the capital was engulfed in flames, streets running red with blood. General Agon's forces swarmed the city like locusts, cutting down all who stood against them. Kicking his horse into motion once more, Xian raced to save what he could. But for all his efforts, it was not enough. He found his father first, cut down defending the throne room with his last breaths. Then his mother and sister, their broken bodies amid a sea of corpses. Rage and sorrow threatened to overwhelm him, but there was no time. General Agon's banner flew triumphantly above the citadel, his victory complete. The Parsian Empire had fallen in a single, brutal day. (End Flashback) Xian opened his eyes, still seeing the flames that had consumed his past. This was the day he had failed his family and people. A failure he was sworn to redeem through vengeance., Xian rose from his knees, the ghosts of his family laid to rest once more beneath the earth. All that remained was the living - and an empire to restore. Gathering his meager band of followers, those few men who yet pledged loyalty to their fallen prince, Xian began the long march ahead. The landscape they traveled was one of desolation. Where once fertile fields had stretched as far as the eye could see, now only barren wastelands remained. Homes and villages lay smashed and blackened, their inhabitants fled or fallen. Any who could not bear such bleakness had taken their own lives in grief. This, then, was the aftermath of conquest - a ravaged shell of what had once been. General Agon sought not only victory but utter domination, erasing all traces of the vanquished. It was a path that would see Xian's people become nameless ghosts haunting their own lands. But Xian was determined they would have their vengeance. As he led his men ever onward under the ashen skies, their numbers began to slowly swell. More displaced souls joined their cause each day, drawn by rumors of a surviving prince rallying rebellion. Though the road was long, Xian's quest had begun in earnest. The ashes of the fallen Parsian Empire would yet be stirred to new life., , The ruins of a burned village loomed ahead as dusk fell. Xian called a halt, sending men to scout the crumbling structures for any supplies left behind. It was then that the ambush was sprung. A dozen ragged mercenaries burst from the shadows, brandishing an array of blades. Their leader grinned, displaying blackened teeth. "General Agon's put a high price on your head, boy. Time to collect." Steel rang as weapons were drawn. Xian parried the first blow with practiced ease, years of training serving him well in these dire times. He fought with a cold, focused fury, striking down all who stood against him. His men battled fiercely at his side but were outnumbered. Xian saw one fall with a gurgling cry, an arrow sprouting from his throat. Rage lent him strength as he cut down the archer responsible. The mercenaries fell back under the onslaught, realizing too late they had bitten off more than they could chew. Within minutes, only the leader remained standing against Xian. Their blades locked with a metallic screech. "Yield," Xian growled, pressing his advantage. But the man spat at his feet instead. With a snarl, Xian slammed the hilt of his sword into the mercenary's temple, leaving him in an unconscious heap. The skirmish was won, though not without cost. Xian knelt beside his fallen comrade, vowing the man's sacrifice would not be in vain. Vengeance would be had for all who stood with him.,, , Xian rose from the corpse of the mercenary leader, blade raised to deliver the killing stroke. A flash of steel blocked his path - another sword, wielded by a slender figure cloaked in tattered leathers. She threw back her hood to reveal a comely face, framed by unruly curls the color of burnished bronze. Defiance lit her amber eyes as she met Xian's glare. "I'd advise against that, boy prince," the woman said coolly. "These men were of my company." Xian's grip tightened on his hilt. "You attack my people and think to parley? I'll have your head as well, mercenary." To his surprise, she laughed. "You've fire, I'll give you that. But my men were merely following the gold in their purse. I aim higher." Her gaze flickered over his ragged band. "You'll not last a tenday without aid in these lands." Xian knew she spoke truth. "And I suppose you offer it? For a price, no doubt." The woman smiled thinly. "The name is Nyla. I know routes your invaders do not, that could see your...company avoid detection. In exchange, a share of any plunder and the chance to spill Agon's blood alongside you." Her eyes glinted with a promise of violence to match his own. After a long moment, Xian lowered his blade. "We have an accord. For now." Trust would come harder, if at all. But in this bleak hour, allies were all he had left to barter with. And Nyla's aid might yet see them live to fight another day.,, , "The mountains to the north hold hidden passes through Agon's patrols," Nyla said, sheathing her blade. "Give me three days, and I can lead your company safe beyond his borders." Xian studied her, seeing only cold calculation in her gaze. "You expect me to entrust our lives to a mercenary? One who stood against us just now." A smirk curled Nyla's lips. "I expect nothing. Save your throne and your vengeance, or fade into the ashes like the rest. The choice is yours." Her words needled at his pride, but Xian knew she spoke truth. Without guidance, they would be hunted down one by one. And Nyla had survived this long alone - her skills were not to be dismissed. "Three days," he finally said. "After that, our alliance ends. We'll travel under cover of night until then." His eyes bored into hers, letting the threat hang unspoken. Nyla merely nodded, turning to lead the way as dusk deepened into night. Xian fell in behind her, his remaining men taking up the rear. Wariness and mistrust walked with them - but for now, their fates were bound together on the road ahead. Only time would tell if Nyla proved friend or foe in the end. , Under cover of darkness, Xian and Nyla's combined forces began their march into the mountains. The prince strode at the head of the column, eyes fixed on the jagged peaks looming before them. Three days, and their fate would be decided. Xian knew not if Nyla could be trusted - but her aid was crucial all the same. Without it, he and his men would wander these hostile lands as lost souls. Gripping the hilt of his sword, Xian drew strength from the memory of those he had sworn to avenge. His family, his people, all who had fallen under Agon's brutal conquest. Their blood cried out for justice, and he would answer that call until his dying breath. Let Agon and his ilk tremble, Xian thought grimly. For though the Parsian Empire lay in ashes now, its spirit lived on within him. And he would see that spirit reborn through fire and steel, no matter the cost. With Nyla at his side and vengeance in his heart, Xian strode into the night. The quest had begun - to restore an empire from the ruins of the past.

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