Even the gods can be bullied.

My lord," Simma snarled through clenched teeth. "It's enough".

"Good", the king said, began to clap slowly, the sound echoing eerily around the dark pillars, a maniacal smile now plastered on his face too. 

"I like that. Now –" at this point, he stood up and his robe fell off, revealing muscular arms and a dominant armoured chest. "Let's begin".

Simma closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating his energy swirling dormantly in his Solar plexus, into his hands and clearing up his pathways for the energy to flow more efficiently. Considering the brutality his body had just survived, it was difficult but through his resilient nature he was able to achieve it.

A pair of heavy thick chains formed in his hands, separating into slimmer bits till they became numerous, elongating skywards to reach the ceilings. They flailed around him, disallowing the king to come any closer.

"Good," the king repeated, "now let's show our only guards…audience what true power is. They shall witness true overbearing Power!!!"

With an angry roar, which re echoed around, causing the guards to protect their ears, he began to run towards the seemingly protected general. As he approached confidently, silver lightning lit up in his hands, criss crossing his whole body and cackling dangerously. He leapt mightily from the ground, watching the chains rising dangerously to meet him and then –

Just before it happened, the king saw Simma's fear stricken face, illuminated by the lightning and grinned wickedly before…

The exchange was so swift that none of the watching guards actually saw what happened. All they saw was Simma falling back, his expression one of severe pain, his chains landing all around him in shards, piercing his skin as he landed amongst them too.

The king remained hovering in the air, his hands now lightning-free, but in the next instant, lightning struck the floor, dangerously close to Simma, creating a crater on the floor.

"Impressive" the king said, turning slowly in mid air to face his beaten lackey, " but you're still weak".

"You are purely stronger, my lord", Simma said, forcing himself to a standing posture. "Why then do you want me to fight you?"

"I need a rightful challenge. An opponent worthy of me. And since you failed to provide the boy who could have been a good one…you will have to be the improvisation".

A smile played around Simma's lips as an evil comeback crossed his mind. It might lead to his death, but at least he wanted to have the satisfaction of seeing terror on his leige's face.

So, he was going to play along, and play foul too.

Ordinarily, even with the absorbed Ace crystal, Savart wouldn't still have defeated the Prince, if his powers were truly as destructive as they were meant to be.

And there was another man he knew his king was mortally scared of dueling.

"Why then, my lord, have you been evading the lord of Vandel Marakin?"

The king turned sharply, as he touched down gently. Simma closed his eyes, expecting a forceful gust and maybe another impact with a solid surface, but nothing happened.

"We're in-laws to be", Savart (the king) replied, staring intently at Simma. He had just realized what the general was up to.

He was running out of time. Since he had waited a long time for the Prince, his time for the Ace crystal enhancement was running out. Normally, it was heralded by weakness and since he has just felt that, he didn't really want to push it. 

Then he turned away, to leave, but the aggrieved general was not yet done.

"If you want a true challenge, then invade Vandel Marakin".

Savart froze. Simma smiled to himself, before then flashing a wide triumphant smile at the two bewildered guards knowing what was about to happen next.

"Moral lesson," Simma said loudly to the guards there, "even the gods have their own bullies."

The reference was far too clear. He had crossed the line.

Savary whirled around, and a very heavy bolt of lightning erupted from his hand with sizzling ferocity, hitting the grinning general fairly in the chest.

The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and the guards subconsciously exchanged glances but remained quiet. All that remained of General Simma Unos Malmagaios was a twisted pile of flesh and armour, bearing no definite form.

Savart's expression did not change, apart from his nose wrinkling in disgust at the acrid smell.

"Take it away. And clear up this place."

All these, without a change of demeanor, just a casual smirk, not even sparing half a glance at the remains of the man who had served him more like a slave for decades.

As the guards shuffled forward, their expressions empty under their visors, Savart dissolved into smoke and was gone in a grand wisp.

Three princesses sat round the oval table containing all sorts of varieties of dishes and fine non-alcoholic wine. In the elaborate jeweled room, there were no guards present, just three sisters sitting together, listening to the quaking noises coming from the throne room.

Even though the balcony where they sat contained large luxurious golden silk curtains, magically improvised to block all sounds from entering or leaving, they could still hear the awful bangs coming from there. Coupled with the heavy dangerous aura lingering around the castle.

They all knew that Father had used "that crystal" again.

None of them were bothered with any of the trivialities at the moment. The trio were quiet, their minds heavy with the news that had filtered in earlier in the evening.

Sentries had reported that a boy with a terrific amount of pure demonic essence, who was now assumed as the Prince of Darkness, was sighted alone, walking along the Sheath; the demarcating magical boundary between them and the Incarnas. An army had been dispatched hastily, but up until then, there had been no feedback.

The eldest of the three, Beth, was visibly the most disturbed by this news, while her two younger twin sisters couldn't just stop thinking.

The news had incited terror among the soldiers and the commoners who lived in the capital city. Even the head general, Simma had followed the expedition, alongside their aunt, Nymphadora, who was unarguably the strongest Sorceress in the kingdom. If they had not yet returned, it meant that either they had not caught him, or had been ambushed instead.

They sincerely wished that it were the first option. Although deep down, they knew that such wistful fantasies never came true.

The Prince of Darkness was a mythical figure, who had abounded from the old stories about the Incarnas. Beth, Bella and Elsa were all from the Cruceni, the people created exclusively to annihilate all Incarnas. 

This instigated a natural hatred between the two races. The Cruceni had multiplied in the years that followed… consisting of most of the royal families in all the kingdoms on the other side of the Sheath.

A Prince of Darkness, though originally a mythical figure, had been proven to exist. One always preceded the other, and there were never two at once. It was just a continually shifting cycle.

 The Prince could only be recognized by his very powerful demonic essence, but over the years, Princes learnt to hide their essence, so seeing a Prince with an unhidden essence meant that the Prince was still a novice…untrained properly.

That was why Savart had hurried to send troops after that prince, believing him to be an amateur, but they were clearly proved wrong.

Historically, the last known Prince of Darkness was killed in a battle with nineteen Cruceni overlords, almost two hundred years ago. The Incarnas didn't avenge their Prince nor did they come for his body. He was buried somewhere around Vandel Marakin, and since then no Prince had strayed into the human or Cruceni zone.

This unexpected event had shaken her dad, Savart, the king of Ellipe, for Elsa had felt it in him when he refused to go with his sister and instead sent Simma with her. Elsa was sure she saw fear in his eyes as he watched his twin sister ride off in the gathering darkness that evening.

Savart wasn't a Cruceni overlord, and it wouldn't have taken the nearest one a minute to arrive, but he alerted them later on, when he was sure that none would come rushing to Ellipe, surely for his own personal reasons.

Elsa could tell that after that incident two hundred years ago, the Prince of Darkness wandering in the human world meant that the Incarnas and dangerous trouble couldn't be far behind.

"Elsa?"

Elsa stared at the green irides of her twin sister, Bella.

"What are you thinking about?"

"What else could I be thinking about?", Elsa snapped.

"A boy?"

Elsa sighed decisively.

"The Prince?"

Elsa sighed again, gazing reproachfully at her talkative sister, who fell quiet again.

"I was thinking", Bella began again aloud after a short while, "how did they recognize him?"

"His demonic essence, of course. His aura must not be powerful. It was specific in the legends. Only the Cruceni overlords can sense him, if he shields his essence", Beth answered.

"So what about-", Bella began again, but an apparition had distracted her. Smoke was forming out of thin air and in seconds, their father was whole, looking down at them.

"Father", Beth said rising,"what happened –"

"Girls", he called in a harsh crisp voice, "Bedtime".