His blood pooled around him as his life slowly faded away. Death was near his door, and he could hear it whispering to him. Prince Praxis, with nothing left to do and filled with nothing but fury and hatred in his heart, had one thought running through his mind and only one thought. "I will burn down this Empire to nothing but ash and dust."
Praxis was always careful when it came to his work. It was non-negotiable that came with the job. He was a prince of the Empire and also a diplomat. He carried out both secret and public meetings with other nations and powerful figures all across the realm.
He often had to travel from place to place, from kingdom to kingdom, from empire to empire. He had to do it safely without being discovered or ambushed. He could be carrying secret war plans or military strategies, and if those were found by the enemy, significant damage could be done to both his empire and potentially to its innocent people.
Praxis was always careful with how he moved, especially while in foreign territories. He made sure to choose the most ideal routes. Safe from being both foreign spies and bandits looking for easy gold. He always planned multiple routes, back-up routes, false routes, and the second he got even a hint that something was off, he would change routes even at the last minute to avoid any unnecessary problems.
He traveled light and with a small group of trusted men. No one should have known his location, but somehow, they did. They knew exactly where he was and when he was going to be there. They were even waiting for him to arrive.
So, as he bled out to his death and knowing he could not have been discovered, the only thought running through his mind was that he had been betrayed. Someone whom he told his plans to expose it to the empire's enemies, or they themselves hired assassins to intercept and murder him.
He knew it was a betrayal. He just knew it. The only ones who knew all his routes were Ralos, his most trusted advisor and secretary, the highest-ranking generals, and the Imperial Family. One, or more likely, many of them must have collided together and plotted this attack. The only explanation that made sense in Praxis' mind was betrayal. His family had betrayed him and sent assassins to kill him.
He just knew it.
Praxis did not even realize what was happening until it was already too late. He was traveling through a narrow, relatively unknown merchant trail. It was a dirt path created between a mountain and a forest. It had been a few hours of riding when the carriage came to a stop.
Praxis was inside the carriage with Ralos and his knight captain, Sir Karvin. Two other knights, Joseph and Fred, accompanied them, and they were outside, driving the carriage. The four of them knew each other well and often traveled together for diplomatic meetings.
"What's wrong?" yelled Ralos, turning around and glaring at the two guards through a small window.
"There appears to be someone injured on the side of the road. Should we ignore them and keep moving forward?" asked Fred.
"Out here? It could be some type of trap set by bandits. Do you sense anyone around in this area, Karvin?" asked Ralos.
"No, I do not. It is only us and that man. And he does not appear to be of any level of threat, especially to royal knights."
"In that case, what would you like to do, your highness?" Ralos asked Praxis.
Praxis did not respond right away. Praxis was not the type to make quick decisions about anything. Even the smallest of decisions, he would ponder. He knew that even the smallest of actions could ripple into some large wave whose consequence could be devastating. So, he always gave all his decisions some thought.
He began thinking about the options before him. His thought process was always slow and methodical when tackling problems. If this were an injured citizen, then the least he could do was offer aid. On the other hand, if this were a bandit, then the 3 royal knights, one of whom was a captain, could easily handle a gang of bandits. The potential risks were negligible compared to the potential damage either action could have caused.
"Go and check what's wrong, but proceed with caution," Praxis commanded the two knights in the front.
"Understood," said Fred, stepping off the carriage.
The guard slowly approached the bloody man with his sword half drawn as Joseph stood back near the carriage. Ralos pulled the blinds aside and watched the knight impatiently. The trip had already taken over a month, and he deeply desired to return to the palace quickly.
The guard arrived near the location of the man, "Hey, are you alright, sir. Do you need any aid?"
The man did not respond, lying slumped back against the mountainside.
"Excuse me, sir. Are you in need of any assistance?" Fred repeated.
This time, the man huffed. He rolled forward over to his knee. Quickly, he pulled one of his feet up and planted it into the ground. He pushed his torso slowly up, staring into the knight's eyes. The knight was disturbed by the man's bloodshot eyes, but as a member of the royal knights, he knew he had to keep calm and stand firm on the ground.
The other men back at the carriage watched on as it looked like the two men were staring at one another. The interaction lasted for a few seconds, but time felt as if it slowed down with anticipation. Those few seconds felt like an eternity of uncertain anxiety.
Something is wrong here, Praxis thought, but before he could even say anything, the knight's body dropped to the floor.
It took Praxis another few seconds to register that while the knight's body lay there on the dirt, blood spraying out of the severed neck, the guard's head was being held up in the man's hand.
"You f**king fiend," Joseph screamed, drawing his sword. It wasn't even fully drawn when an arrow crackled through the sky and struck right through Joseph's head. He, too, was now a corpse, his body falling to the ground.
As his body fell and not with a moment to register what was happening, the carriage burst into flames. Karvin grabbed Praxis and leaped out of the carriage with Ralos jumping out right behind them.
They landed on top of the guard's corpse and immediately tried to turn their attention to the injured man, but he had vanished.
"Hurry, take cover behind the tree, Prince Prax…" Karvin was yelling when a fiery arrow flew through the sky, hitting him in the chest. Karvin ignited in flames.
As Karvin screamed out in pain, Praxis and Ralos made a dash towards a forest when a fast gust of wind passed by them. Praxis continued his dash, but stopped when he heard a thud on the ground. He turned around and saw Ralos' body on the ground, split into two.
A volley of arrows, daggers, and spells all came whirling at Praxis. They delivered more than 20 near-fatal blows. He was shot by archers hidden over a hundred meters away. They hit him 6 times.
The assassins who were hidden in the same trees he was running to threw 11 daggers and knives at him. Each aimed towards a vital organ and, by the luck of fate, missed them barely by a few centimeters.
They incinerated one of his arms and froze his feet, pinning him to the ground. Even if he wanted to crawl away, they made sure he couldn't. He realized it was all on purpose. They wanted him to stay alive for as long as possible.
He was battered, bruised, and adorned with arrows, knives, and daggers in every corner of his body. Yet, he clung onto his life for as long as he could. His breath was slow and heavy. He couldn't feel any part of his body anymore. He couldn't move his remaining hand or legs. He was stuck there, slowly bleeding out.
As he lay on the ground, they came and surrounded him. There were 13 of them. They wore face coverings and a grey outfit. It had no marking or insignia that would expose their identities. They didn't say or do anything, but only stood over watching as he slowly died.
There was no hope left that could save Praxis' life. All three of his knights were dead, and so was Ralos. The longer it lasted, the more hopeless he grew and the angrier he became. He knew this was the work of the people whom he was forced to call family. The other princes, princesses, and queens of the empire had sent the assassins. A primal, visceral rage grew inside Praxis.
And as he bled out to his death, a vile creature of Hell heard the hate pulsing and festering throughout Praxis' body.