- last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT
From the ruin rose a lone figure. He cast a deafening shadow over the wreckage, silencing the breeze and its lament of the land.
The stillness was broken by the cracking of bones as they were crushed under his iron boots. After centuries of unperturbed disdain, the corpses were never buried after the fallout of that fateful day.
The foolhardy vines that dared grow on the blighted ground withered at his passing.
He drew closer to the piercing glow that remained. For centuries, the sconce had been lit. The torch would burn until the conflict met closure. The stunningly red flame licked the harrowed pillars that once shouldered a temple. No more disciples of war littered the ashen ground, vindicating the foolish mortal and his dire task.
The flame exhumed him, immortalizing him in immolation, as the cracking of thunder forced its way among the forsaken battle site, the sorrow rippling like blood. The angst, pent up for centuries, finally reached the blood line and imploded. All the hatred that was manifest that day was reborn in a flourish of un-utterable blackness.
A wave burst forth from him, surging through the undead ruin, reigniting the fires of war.