📜Story below ⬇️
Blood-tarnished smoke rose from the scorched earth crowding sky and horizon, turning day into night, land into a searing inferno. Waves of soldiers clashed and broke, bathing the tides of hate-driven people with crimson spindrifts, leaving tainted swords, spears, and corpses in their wake.
Somewhere amidst the black ever-burning clouds, our dragon fought vehemently against a gargantuan bird with claws sharper than blades, eyes of the deepest darkness, and feathers denser than any metal. Torrents of fire gushed out our beast’s maw, but the bird flew right through it, came out unscathed and snatched the dragon’s throat.
I looked away, threw the banner to the floor, and galloped into the battle, trampling many, slicing more. Swords burst out from everywhere, came short of my neck, but didn’t miss my horse. It shrieked, collapsed onto the ground, and I struck the earth, rolling, only to be stopped by a pile of dead men.
An enemy sprung to end me, then another, and another. I defended myself but found my shoulders and legs unresponsive, my chest afire, and my ribs shattered. I gazed skyward then, found a circle of blades descending toward my head, but I looked past my fate, for it was the fate of the battle, of our army what mattered.
And there, above the clouds, the fire of our dragon shone fiercer than hellfire.
The first sword was buried in my stomach. The flames disappeared from the sky.
The second sword pierced my throat. The clouds became turbulent.
The third sword was driven through my left eye. An ear-shattering shriek overtook the clamor of battle.
The fourth blade was interred in my heart. Our dragon fell, lifeless, from the skies.
The last blade came, but the cold blackness of death came first.
Art by: @sina_hayatii