The temperatures in and around the Arabian sands, while being swelteringly hot during the day, reach near freezing upon nightfall. It was nearly dusk, and the cold, biting wind could be felt all-to-keenly in the 2nd Palace.
The Prince raced up the levels, continually going higher. He had to get to the top observatory of the 2nd Palace, a wide, flat expanse at the highest point in his Kingdom. Up the winding staircases he ran, forgetting all pain his erratic breathing may bring to his sides. He ran until he was finally there. With a great, pumping kick, he launched through the door to the top of the 2nd Palace: The Observatory.
He landed uneasy, though, yet rolled in perfect balance back onto his feet. It was so cold the Prince could see his breath, and could already feel the cold, steel hilt growing icy in his grasp. When he raised himself up, he was far from alone, met by five of the demon spawn, 2 of which wielded spears.
The Prince, the warrior, unleashed his sword across the expanse between them and took a spear holder in the skull. Before the pike had even struck the ground, the Prince exploded into motion, grabbing the nearest creature by the neck and crushing it's throat with his thumb. He then locked and snapped its elbow, to which it responded with a heart-piercing cry of agony; the Prince used its own sword to silence it.
After he kicked that creature away, he flipped the sword over, dropped to one knee, and thrust the blood-black steel behind him, fully taking the demon there in the groin. It made no noise. It made no movements. It only fell, clutching its torn and splintered loins.
The only one left was a lone spear wielder. To its credit, it bravely charged the Prince with a great battle cry. The Prince dodged to the left and cut the tip from the pike. Then he used the ancient, rune-etched steel to tear out the creature's throat.
The Prince surveyed the remains of the battle. He walked forward a few feet, but then had to lean against a column. Not out of weariness, mind you, but out of, truthfully, fear and awe. Sprawled out before him was the great series of structures known as the 1st Palace. It was revered as the most amazing, beautiful, complicated, and truly awe inspiring sights in the world, quite possibly the true 9th Wonder. The 2nd Palace, which he was atop, was more for the scholars, more of an outpost; out of the way, really.
But that God-felling sight was not what caught his breath this night. Before the 1st Palace, the Pearl of the Kingdom, not to mention his Father's true home, were many, many black shapes. The very same demonic incarnations he'd been battling all night. But there weren't just a few, like he had fought.
There were thousands. Tens, maybe hundreds, of thousands. Archers, infantry siege engines, demonic war elephants, trebuchets.
His home, his kingdom, a place he had called home since birth and loved with all his heart, body, and soul…He recognized the terrible, crushing pain only truth can bring:
His home was under siege. The sound of his ancient steel clattering to the ground echoed off the Observatory's many high, smooth, stone columns.
He dropped to his knees…and wept.
Thus concludes the Chronicles of the Prince, Part 1