The silence pricked its way down of each spine of the three thousand soldiers that stood rigid, devoted to the crown. The night curled over the distant trees, and inch by inch it swept away the rumbled town beneath the kingdom. The thunderous stomps of the warriors erupted, as they spoke a foreign language to warn off the darkness. But the night fog rose up to claw away the flesh of the warriors. The dying screamed as the air became poisonous with the virulent odor of blood. With a final roar filled with rage and sorrow, they pushed on.
“For our home!” a warrior bellowed, “For our King!” Gritting his teeth as tears and sweat dripped off his face, they charged as one.
The river became paste, mixed with blood and ashes. A warrior stood in the river, ready to defend his homeland. With his sword, he charged at the Shadow of the night with just the Gods watching his back. Even the Gods themselves were struggling with their own war. The brawl didn’t last long; three arrows rose and found its mark on the soldiers back. The river became paste, thick and rising as another brother has fallen.
The soldiers raised their swords, whispering a silent prayer, knowing they would never win this war. The darkness flounced to them, rumbling with laughter. The mist rose from ground, becoming a heavy veil over their eyes. The hush was sudden as every breathe was restricted. Black hands morphed in the sky above, falling and smashing every soldier in range. The eyes of the beholder were filled with satisfaction as blood of the soldiers ran down each rugged claw. Flesh clung to the tips of each claw, making a statement.
And just like that, the warriors were gone. Lost to the shadows of the night.

The laughter rumbled the bones of the dead. Magic filled the air, replacing the odor of blood with a thick scent of saga. Bones rolled and twisted together to form soldiers of the dead, fighting the brothers the once fought along with in spirit. Yet here they are, twisting rusted swords up the guts of each brother they once loved. No remorse, no fighting as the skeletons raised as one and fought the battle of sorrow. The darkness grappled the dead bodies and covered them with a dark blanket, bringing life to the once dead.
Confusion was the veil of what was occurring in the castle above, the darkness left the castle untouched. As the Queen, has already arrived and taking all the armed forced down with just a flick of her wrist. It was an easy, simple task for the White Witch. Her dragon was above the castle, burning the flesh off the warriors who kept coming.
One after the other they kept falling, slowly they fell by the hands of their own. Death moved like the wind, twisting and gutting every soldier on the battle field. The King knew this would happen, it was inevitable. His daughter was heir, his life. He twisted away from the pain as he watched the ship set sail to a far distant land, far safer than in this lands. His land, his people.
The door burst open, the night curling around the edges of the door. “Hiding like a coward,” her voice was sickly sweet, “not your style,” she paused, examining him.
He responded by pulling out his sword, loving the weight of it in his hands as he took a stance. She laughed, lifeless as the dead she controlled. Her hand was swift as the darkness matched her movement, “I waited years for this moment,” she grits her teeth, wrath written clear in her pale blue eyes, “You killed her like cattle,” Her midnight hair was in a tight braid, showing her sharp unforgiving features.
“I did not,” The King spoke calmly, leveling his sword to the shadows of the night, “I tried-” his voice broke for this rampaging mother. He took a breath, “I tried to save her from them.”
She growled, “Lair!” she screeched, throwing her darkness towards me, “You fitly liar,”
He dropped his sword, tossing it from his reach as he stared at his beloved friend, “Kill me if you must, but it won’t feel that broken hole in your heart,” he paused, giving her a sad smile, “I know how you feel, losing a daughter, but this isn’t how you mend this heartache, Measica,” The flash of his daughter’s smile warmed his skin, and he felt that ache in his heart.
She threw her arms towards him with anger and grief. The darkness shifted and formed around him. Gripping his very soul as the smoke suffocated him, “She was my life, my soul reason to existence,” her voice was harsh and filled with grief as she stared into those eyes of his, “Someone killed her, Theo,” her voice was barely above a whisper, “someone has to pay,”
The darkness swallowed them whole as the darkness was ripped from the land. Bright blue skies filled the battle field with the warmth of the sun. The wind blew salty air from the sea nearby, brushing against the bodies of the dead. The forest nearby was vibrant with life once again. The rushing river ahead was splashing against the bodies and rocks that prevented the vivid red water from rushing by.
The silence pricked its way down of each spine of the three thousand soldiers that stood rigid, devoted to the crown. The night curled over the distant trees, and inch by inch it swept away the rumbled town beneath the kingdom. The thunderous stomps of the warriors erupted, as they spoke a foreign language to warn off the darkness. But the night fog rose up to claw away the flesh of the warriors. The dying screamed as the air became poisonous with the virulent odor of blood. With a final roar filled with rage and sorrow, they pushed on.
“For our home!” a warrior bellowed, “For our King!” Gritting his teeth as tears and sweat dripped off his face, they charged as one.
The river became paste, mixed with blood and ashes. A warrior stood in the river, ready to defend his homeland. With his sword, he charged at the Shadow of the night with just the Gods watching his back. Even the Gods themselves were struggling with their own war. The brawl didn’t last long; three arrows rose and found its mark on the soldiers back. The river became paste, thick and rising as another brother has fallen.
The soldiers raised their swords, whispering a silent prayer, knowing they would never win this war. The darkness flounced to them, rumbling with laughter. The mist rose from ground, becoming a heavy veil over their eyes. The hush was sudden as every breathe was restricted. Black hands morphed in the sky above, falling and smashing every soldier in range. The eyes of the beholder were filled with satisfaction as blood of the soldiers ran down each rugged claw. Flesh clung to the tips of each claw, making a statement.
And just like that, the warriors were gone. Lost to the shadows of the night.

The laughter rumbled the bones of the dead. Magic filled the air, replacing the odor of blood with a thick scent of saga. Bones rolled and twisted together to form soldiers of the dead, fighting the brothers the once fought along with in spirit. Yet here they are, twisting rusted swords up the guts of each brother they once loved. No remorse, no fighting as the skeletons raised as one and fought the battle of sorrow. The darkness grappled the dead bodies and covered them with a dark blanket, bringing life to the once dead.
Confusion was the veil of what was occurring in the castle above, the darkness left the castle untouched. As the Queen, has already arrived and taking all the armed forced down with just a flick of her wrist. It was an easy, simple task for the White Witch. Her dragon was above the castle, burning the flesh off the warriors who kept coming.
One after the other they kept falling, slowly they fell by the hands of their own. Death moved like the wind, twisting and gutting every soldier on the battle field. The King knew this would happen, it was inevitable. His daughter was heir, his life. He twisted away from the pain as he watched the ship set sail to a far distant land, far safer than in this lands. His land, his people.
The door burst open, the night curling around the edges of the door. “Hiding like a coward,” her voice was sickly sweet, “not your style,” she paused, examining him.
He responded by pulling out his sword, loving the weight of it in his hands as he took a stance. She laughed, lifeless as the dead she controlled. Her hand was swift as the darkness matched her movement, “I waited years for this moment,” she grits her teeth, wrath written clear in her pale blue eyes, “You killed her like cattle,” Her midnight hair was in a tight braid, showing her sharp unforgiving features.
“I did not,” The King spoke calmly, leveling his sword to the shadows of the night, “I tried-” his voice broke for this rampaging mother. He took a breath, “I tried to save her from them.”
She growled, “Lair!” she screeched, throwing her darkness towards me, “You fitly liar,”
He dropped his sword, tossing it from his reach as he stared at his beloved friend, “Kill me if you must, but it won’t feel that broken hole in your heart,” he paused, giving her a sad smile, “I know how you feel, losing a daughter, but this isn’t how you mend this heartache, Measica,” The flash of his daughter’s smile warmed his skin, and he felt that ache in his heart.
She threw her arms towards him with anger and grief. The darkness shifted and formed around him. Gripping his very soul as the smoke suffocated him, “She was my life, my soul reason to existence,” her voice was harsh and filled with grief as she stared into those eyes of his, “Someone killed her, Theo,” her voice was barely above a whisper, “someone has to pay,”
The darkness swallowed them whole as the darkness was ripped from the land. Bright blue skies filled the battle field with the warmth of the sun. The wind blew salty air from the sea nearby, brushing against the bodies of the dead. The forest nearby was vibrant with life once again. The rushing river ahead was splashing against the bodies and rocks that prevented the vivid red water from rushing by.