Flames devour my ancestral home, turning the palace's golden spires into crumbling embers against a starless, wrathful sky. The air is thick with choking smoke and the acrid tang of burning wood and incense. Amid the cacophony of anguished screams and clashing steel, I run.
Barefoot on cold marble, I dart through winding corridors as my heart thunders like a war drum. Servants lie silent on the bloodstained floor their eyes empty voids while the once-proud Imperial Lightning Crest now drips crimson on shattered banners."Prince Kael! This way!"A commanding voice slices through the chaos. I spin to see Captain Rhygar, my father's stalwart warrior, emerging from a hidden passage. His armor is scarred and his left arm bleeds freely, yet he stands unyielding. Behind him, two soldiers wage desperate battle against shadowy assassins cloaked in obsidian."Where is my father? My mother?" My voice cracks under the weight of terror and disbelief.Rhygar's gaze hardens like tempered steel. "There's no time, Your Highness. We must leave!"A deafening crash rattles the palace as the vaulted ceiling caves in, unleashing a torrent of molten stone. I flinch as searing heat grazes my skin, but Rhygar intercepts the blaze, his broad back taking the brunt of the impact. Gritting his teeth against agony, he rises once more."Move!" he bellows, shoving me into the passage just as a spear finds its mark in one of his men. The soldier's final, ragged breath is swallowed by the roar of destruction.I stagger onward, my chest a maelstrom of grief and fury. I yearn to fight, to join the fray but I am just a boy, powerless in this tide of calamity.Deeper into the concealed corridor, the clamor of slaughter fades into a haunting silence. Torchlight dances against ancient stone as Rhygar leads me forward through damp, suffocating air. My legs tremble, yet a stubborn ember of resolve kindles within me."Who did this?" I whisper, voice trembling like a fragile reed.Rhygar exhales sharply. "The Five Great Families. They turned against the Empire."A sickening twist churns my stomach. I have known their names all my life House Ignis of Fire, House Voss of Water, House Thorn of Wood, House Dural of Stone, and House Xian of Metal once venerated as guardians of our realm, now treacherous usurpers."They… betrayed my father?" I ask, barely audible."They struck as one," Rhygar confirms grimly. "Your father fought like a tempest, but they overwhelmed him. The Five Families have already carved the Empire to suit their own ambitions."My fists clench, nails biting into my skin as despair warred with indignation. "And my mother?"His silence shouts the answer. Swallowing hard, I fight back the rising sobs. Now is no time for weakness.We emerge from the tunnel into a frigid, rain-soaked forest beyond the palace walls. The night is a canvas of smoke and lancing lightning a mirror to the devastation left behind. Rhygar kneels before me, his grip firm on my trembling shoulders."Listen, Prince," he intones, his voice steady despite the blood that stains his tunic. "The Empire has fallen into darkness. But you, you are its last ember. Survive. Train in the ancient arts. One day, you will reclaim what is rightfully ours."Before I can respond, a piercing whistle rends the air. I freeze.Rhygar's body convulses as a blade explodes from his chest, crimson arcs splattering across my face. From the shadows, a masked assassin emerges, his sword still embedded in Rhygar's back.With a guttural roar—a sound of defiance born of countless battles Rhygar twists, wrenching the blade free from his flesh. In one swift, lethal motion, reminiscent of the ancient martial forms passed down through generations, he cleaves the assassin's head from his shoulders in a spray of dark blood.Gasping, Rhygar staggers to one knee as blood pools around him. Yet even as his strength wanes, his eyes lock onto mine with a fierce, unwavering command."Run," he rasps, each word a shard of resolve. "Run now."Paralyzed for a heartbeat, my feet finally obey. I turn and flee without a backward glance, my only focus the promise of survival. I run until every muscle burns, until my breath comes in ragged gasps, until the tempest of rain and lightning drowns out all else.In a fleeting flash of lightning, the world is revealed in stark, brutal clarity. In that charged moment, I swear an oath to the ancient spirits and the heavens above:I will return.I will avenge them all.The storm roars on, its winds echoing the cries of the fallen. I press forward, weakened but determined, clad in nothing but a tattered tunic and stained by the blood of my people. Each step is a promise one day, the lost art of our forebears will guide my hand and heart.But fate is a cunning hunter. A rustle in the underbrush snaps me back to a deadly present. I press myself against the gnarled trunk of an ancient tree, heart pounding in sync with the distant march of pursuers.Footsteps—steady, methodical draw ever closer. They are hunting me.I bite back a gasp and inch deeper into the shadows, every sense straining. The forest, vast and unforgiving, hides secrets as old as the Empire itself. I know they will not relent until I am found.A branch snaps nearby. Terror flares in me, but I stay motionless, clutching the damp earth as if to ground my spiraling resolve.Then, from the darkness—a deafening roar shatters the silence. The trees tremble as a colossal beast, its golden eyes blazing like twin suns, emerges. Fangs the size of daggers glint in the intermittent light as the creature snarls its challenge. The assassins cry out, drawing their blades, but the beast strikes with supernatural speed.Screams echo through the night as blood and leaves mingle in the maelstrom. Driven by the raw will to survive, I surge into motion once again.I run blindly, desperately—through a storm of shattered dreams and lashing rain, every lightning split a reminder of the promise I made. My lungs burn, my legs threaten to fail, but the legacy of my blood fuels each determined step.I am the last heir of an Empire forged in honor and tempered by the ancient arts.I will not die tonight.
The storm roars like vengeful spirits, rain lashing my skin as I stagger deeper into the unknown wilderness. Every step feels weighted by despair, my body crying out for rest but rest, in this relentless night, is tantamount to death. My legs burn with exhaustion, my breath comes in ragged gasps, yet I dare not pause. Behind me, the dying screams of the assassins merge with the howling wind—a macabre lullaby reminding me that every moment counts. Whatever that monstrous beast was, it only bought me time, not sanctuary.
Lightning splits the sky, illuminating gnarled roots and towering trees that stand as silent sentinels in this ancient, untamed forest. I have no map, no guide—only raw instinct and the desperate will to survive. My trembling hands press onward, while my mind swirls with exhaustion and an unyielding terror that gnaws at my soul.Then movement.I freeze, every muscle coiled tight like a caged beast ready to pounce. A figure emerges from the darkness, stepping with measured, almost deliberate purpose. Clad in a cloak that seems to absorb the rain, they are little more than a shadow against the tempest."You run well for a prince," the figure remarks, their voice calm and laced with a subtle amusement that cuts through the chaos of my racing thoughts. My heart stutters how do they know my identity?I say nothing, the silence speaking volumes for me.As the stranger draws closer, details sharpen: beneath the hood, a face carved by battles past, a scar etching a story across a weathered jawline. A blade rests at their hip unsheathed, yet patient."Your empire has fallen," they continue, each word deliberate and weighted. "Your family... slaughtered. You are alone."Their words strike me like iron hammers, each syllable tightening the vice around my heart. I had known these truths, yet hearing them out loud cements my grief in a way that cuts deeper than any blade. My fingers, once symbols of princely command, now shake uncontrollably, grasping at nothing.I lift my chin, meeting the shadowed gaze beneath the hood with a defiant fragility. "I know," I rasp, voice raw from smoke and sorrow. "Who are you?"The stranger tilts their head, as if weighing how much of their truth to reveal. Finally, they speak: "A survivor. Like you."A flash of lightning renders their silhouette in stark relief, etching them against the tempest. Then their tone shifts, carrying a challenge. "I am here to see if you are worth saving."A gust of wind rattles the branches overhead, and in that moment, the weight of their judgment settles over me like cold iron shackles. For a lifetime, I was a prince the embodiment of worth and destiny. Now, I am but a fugitive, a child whose lineage has been reduced to ashes.Before I can muster a response, a low, resonant growl rumbles through the trees as though the earth itself issues a dire warning. The air grows thick with the scent of damp fur and primal musk. I sense the beast from before; its massive form prowls at the edge of the storm, its hunger an unspoken promise of death. My blood runs cold.The stranger's eyes narrow, tracking the distant, ominous silhouette. "Come," they command, their voice low and resolute. "If you wish to live."I hesitate, casting a final, pained glance back toward the ruins of my past—a past of shattered crowns and burned memories. Then, with the heavy certainty of a man reborn in despair, I step forward and fall into stride beside this mysterious ally.For now, survival is all that matters. And in this ruthless night, every breath, every heartbeat, is a vow to reclaim what was lost—even if I must forge my destiny from the very embers of despair.