Thunderstorms and lightning crack the dark night with both sound and light.
While the rest of the country slept soundly, the entire royal family has been killed. The capital city was on fire, and its streets covered in blood. Its ominous glow penetrated the night, acting as a massive bonfire, heralding the end of an age.
It's with this light that one individual used to luminate his way out of danger, and its darkest shadows would also cloak him from any pursuers. A once proud figure, he had discarded anything that would once proclaim his honor, valor, and oath to what was now a forgone master. He kept only the barest of armor, and even that was somewhat cumbersome, as he trudged and slid through the building layer of mud.
Finally, a nearby flash of lightning gave him pause, and a particularly powerful gust of wind made him slip. This sorry figure, who was once the strongest and most trusted knight of a kingdom, was flung off his path of escape, and laid low in a muddy ditch - his body covered with broken branches as he fell into an unconscious state.
His dreams were no more merciful than the storm had been.
He could hear the rumble of distant thunder, as he found himself in a dark void. Beneath his feet, he stood on a tiny island of just bare earth, soaked in blood. The smell was overwelming, but there was nothing for him to do there. Nowhere for him to go. All he could do was wallow in his failure, as another storm brewed. This one's winds would sound more and more like screams as it came closer. Surely, it would eventually drag him off the island, and back into the void.
While the rest of the country slept soundly, the entire royal family has been killed. The capital city was on fire, and its streets covered in blood. Its ominous glow penetrated the night, acting as a massive bonfire, heralding the end of an age.
It's with this light that one individual used to luminate his way out of danger, and its darkest shadows would also cloak him from any pursuers. A once proud figure, he had discarded anything that would once proclaim his honor, valor, and oath to what was now a forgone master. He kept only the barest of armor, and even that was somewhat cumbersome, as he trudged and slid through the building layer of mud.
Finally, a nearby flash of lightning gave him pause, and a particularly powerful gust of wind made him slip. This sorry figure, who was once the strongest and most trusted knight of a kingdom, was flung off his path of escape, and laid low in a muddy ditch - his body covered with broken branches as he fell into an unconscious state.
His dreams were no more merciful than the storm had been.
He could hear the rumble of distant thunder, as he found himself in a dark void. Beneath his feet, he stood on a tiny island of just bare earth, soaked in blood. The smell was overwelming, but there was nothing for him to do there. Nowhere for him to go. All he could do was wallow in his failure, as another storm brewed. This one's winds would sound more and more like screams as it came closer. Surely, it would eventually drag him off the island, and back into the void.