Prince of Demons: Prologue

The once lush grass was now brown and decaying. The oak had lost is luster and its leaves had fallen in patches. The blue pond was dry replaced with crusting dried sediment.
The new found Prince surveyed the view of the meadow below him. On the hill looking into the valley he was an image of onyx, his Vice Command and consultants in tow, his vast army steadfast in the wild behind him. The cold breeze licked at the tails of his cloak.
The Prince’s irises shifted from a cool hazel into a cloudy grayish blue under the shade of his hood. He was motionless while the Vice commanders shuffled themselves for warmth behind him. His chest tightened finally letting out a condensating mist from his breath. He exhaled again through his nose, a puff of mist bellowed again. “I am dragon,” he thought to himself.
The grey of the heavy clouds coating the sky became thicker. A sharp wind ripped through the brown grass. A dying sea of his comfort seemed to roll in waves in the meadow below him. “This will be my last breath,” the dark prince thought to himself. He removed his hood slowly with his thumbs. He face was emotionless, his gaze was icy. Rarely these days was it allowed to look directly upon him. The Vice commanders averted their gazes.
“Burn it, Burn it all.”
“But Sire!” Vice commander Michekle and his once closest ally cried out, “You will lose the source!” With a quick gesture the hooded prince grabbed his neck. Michekle’s eyes went dim with the snap as his body folded to the ground. As ordered, two guardsmen presented themselves with dry wooden branches wrapped in oil cloths. The Phoenix Prince wrapped his hands tightly into the soaked cloth with his spark setting them aflame. He gripped the two burning torches with both hands before tossing them over his shoulders towards the dead meadow.
The sky became black with smoke as the flames ripped though the dead flora.
“I said burn it all…..”