The Shadow Prince
—Story Prompt—
The clouds above Cirrane village coalesced into a floating blanket that rejected the sun’s light above, casting shadows like massive ink blots onto the pebbled road beneath it. A young girl in a flower dress pulled the gaze of her father towards the strange rain cloud with a point of her finger…
…but what Cirrane would receive was far beyond rain.
Before long, the shadow soldiers surged towards the bustling outdoor market like gray mists with vaguely humanoid shapes. They were as nondescript as shadows upon the corner of one’s eye, but appeared as transparent soldiers when still enough to take prisoners or direct orders… soldiers with molten eyes and uniforms of leathered skin.
The strolling father in his miner’s cap and overalls was pushed to the ground with blades pressed against his neck, while his screaming daughter fled until she was swept up by a horseback soldier’s arm and restrained against a mane of ebbing tendrils.
A cacophony of chaos rose along with the screams of those woefully unprepared. Doors of buildings were slammed shut only to be torn off with a hurricane’s fury and ransacked by blurred, bestial beings. Women were taken and occasionally swallowed into the air, their screams abruptly cut from existence. Men fought with whatever they could manage as weapons, be it a broom handle or loose brick, only to be struck down or lassoed and dragged away by galloping horses.
Amidst the horror and pandemonium, a hazy presence slowly materialized itself into a corporeal form, like a swimmer surfacing from the depths. The sight of a tall, slender man with leather armor the color of dried blood unveiled itself near the community building to stunned onlookers. His skin was as pale as snow, while his dark wavy hair flowed to a wind not of this earthly plane. Stark red markings and embellishments scattered themselves across the his armor, mostly strange glyphs that kept their truths away from unknowing eyes. He stood with arms that were calmly folded behind his back.
Though the name escaped comprehension, the onlookers ultimately understood. This is the Shadow Prince.
Yet another village claimed, was the look on his eyes while he reveled in quiet triumph. And many more still to fall.
“Enough!” The cry was enough to shake the Prince from his reflections, and his focus settled upon a young, armored knight before him, emboldened by the weapon in his hands.
The young warrior held forth his blade to the Prince’s chest. “Stop this!” he insisted with a seething defiance that masked his dread. A merchant’s cart with caged chickens had toppled nearby, and their screeches perfectly captured the terror coursing through the air.
The Shadow Prince smiled at the boy’s request. “No,” he whispered back.
The warrior gritted his teeth in anger before his blade was swung. The Shadow Prince stepped calmly to the side and neatly dodged the attack. For a minute or so there was a ballet of desperation as the young warrior’s frantic swings failed to land a blow upon his graceful opponent, who hopelessly seemed one step ahead.
Finally though, with what seemed like a stroke of luck from the God’s themselves, the tip of the blade haphazardly pierced the chest of the Shadow Prince, and his snarl of pain accompanied a backwards tumble onto the ground.
He was but a moment away from lifting to his feet and ending the pathetic charade when a healer girl inexplicably rushed to his side. A brief nudge of agitated dismissal would give way to the sight of eyes as they laid upon the woman… and the particles of air swirling around him seemed to freeze into place. There was some sort of subconscious, wordless realization… until a string of them finally sifted to the lips of the entranced Prince.
“You are… who are you?”
The one? his mind questioned with the awe of a fledgling stargazer. She was attractive beyond the incommodious pulses of lust that the Shadow Prince grudgingly indulged upon to satisfy his meager ties to mortality. Her beauty spoke to something eternal, something that lifted above time itself and entwined with his essence… in this life, or the one that followed.
A few moments passed as the young woman dutifully tended to his wound. The Shadow Prince wouldn’t resist and remained still. Once it seemed the woman was finished, the Prince seized her forearm with one hand and drew a glyph upon it with the other… slowly and precisely, spreading a wave of gooseflesh. The mark’s imprint resembled a pair of entwined snakes upon a bed of waves, ghosting away after a few moments.
He then climbed to his feet, his gaze ever locked upon the healer girl.
“Dear maiden, my name is Charôţh. I am honored and humbled by your presence.” A polite bow of greeting preceded his next words. “I have decided that your village shall be spared from my onslaught. In exchange, our lives are now bound together by the mark of Ætranos.” He could see the confusion in her eyes, but left it alone.
A snap of the Prince’s fingers instantly evaporated the pillaging forces, and the sudden silence that followed swallowed the village with finality.
“Until we meet again,” he said with a smile to the woman, still on her knees. Another snap of his fingers, and he disappeared before her very eyes.
___
Years passed. Kingdoms fell, as well as villages. The conquest of the Shadow Prince had neared its ultimate goal of dominance, and yet he sat wearily upon his throne as his trusted second approached with a climb up the circular staircase.
“My liege,” came the report of General Onyx. “More news to report. Rebellions gathering momentum and spreading outward.” He took a moment to reflect on the magnitude of the matter. “Their… alchemies have improved, it seems.”
“Yet I remain on the cusp,” Charôţh sighed through his breath. “If only the world accepted the inevitable, this would already be done with.”
“My scouts have returned with more details,” Onyx continued. “The village of Cirrane appears to have fortified into a stronghold.”
Charôţh’s eyes widened before narrowing into snake-like slits. “Cirrane,” the Shadow Prince hissed as he shifted on his seat.
“You’re familiar, my liege?”
The Shadow Prince shut his eyes and nodded. “I am familiar, and I seek to be unfamiliar,” he sneered while lifting to his feet. “We shall go to complete what I had left unfinished.”
___
The villagers of Cirrane were much better prepared when the ominous clouds gathered once more over their heads, but the fear on their faces was unmistakable. A large troop of knights assembled to await the looming threat, assembled in rows with blades drawn, while women and children fled or hid as best they could.
Eventually, a swirling portal as black as the void pooled before the knights, rousing a chorus of gasps and shouts. The Shadow Prince emerged through the dark doorway, flanked by hordes of his hellborn soldiers.
Before he could lift a deadly finger towards the row of armored rebels before him, he was interrupted by someone pushing to the front and ahead of the knight’s positions. The Shadow Prince was visibly taken aback when he realized it was the healer girl, but rigidly stood his ground.
“And what have you say before the heat of battle, dear maiden?” Charôţh asked after a fleeting pause, unable to guise his curiosity.
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