“THE FIRES OF WAR RAGE CONSTANTLY, AND IT IS WE WHO ARE BURNT BY THE FLAMES.”
"For years now, the Imperial Crown waged a bloody guerrilla war against the southern kingdoms of Tahij and Gomar. I did not pay attention to such tensions, for this war is merely the result of the emperor’s imperialistic views and greed. However, in recent times, the war intensified and a close friend of mine died. As quick as any imperial steed could take me, I left for the south.
Upon arriving in the Gomari capital, Naraius, I was welcomed by the city’s Mother Priestess and lead to field of empty, golden homes. Lavender and rose wafted in the air, tickling my senses, as I observed the homes. Each house was small and rectangular, built from sandy granite. Above each doorway was a different symbol, and amongst the small shelters I saw, I determined that this expanse of abandoned homes were graves of fallen citizens of the entire kingdom. We proceeded into one of the homes, above the doorway of my friend’s grave were a white shield, and from it sprouted two ascending wings.
The Mother Priestess smiled at me as I entered, and only a meter or so away was a human-sized sarcophagus. I gazed at its lid, and it depicted some sort of animal holding a crystal orb. I looked at the woman next to me, and proceeded in asking, “How did he die?”
“Gaze into the ball, and you shall find out.”
Therefore, I did.
My eyes peered into the small, round globe and the world around me become nothing but sand. Rolling dunes of skull-white sand were scattered all around me, and I felt the burden of the Sun’s heat. The sky was a cloudless blue, and there was only a brief, warm breeze that whispered through the desolation. I was not remotely present in the scene, but it felt as if I was. I could feel my body digging into the sand and hear the distant footfalls of a bitter soldier. Limping through the sands was a muscular man, clad in silver and gold, with baggy brown trousers. Strapped to his back was a large, oddly shaped shield and tucked behind a cloth sash were to swords. This man, my friend, was a Scarab Knight of Gomar, a guardian of the Scarabbi Codex and the people of the desert kingdom.
Suddenly, the sands began to quake violently. The earth near the warrior fell through the surface of the desert, plummeting into the void. The sands shifted, eager to fill the deep hole, falling into it like graceful waterfalls. Within a matter of seconds, a winged lion emerged from the depths. The lion was as black as the night, with large red eyes. Its wings were charred and its fur dirtied by ash and rock. The beast flexed its wings, unleashing a torrent of falling ash, and roared. Not phased by the sudden emergence of this beast, the knight slowly withdrew his longswords. From the depths of his throat came a thunderous war cry that echoed for miles in the empty, sandy landscape. Both beast and warrior clashed violently.
The lion pounced, mouth wide open, guided by his blackened wings, upon the man. Two blades ripped into the beasts throat and then withdrew, causing the winged monster to cry and stagger backwards. Blood flowed like slow-moving lava from its atrocious maw. My eyes seemed to move away, revealing the full scene of battle. To the left was the beast and to the right was the warrior, who had composed himself. Another breeze wafted through the land as the Gomari Knight sheathed one blade. The beast charged, and within seconds, the knight turned, legs bent, as the beast collided into his shield, causing it to once more lumber backwards. The warrior's shield was now in his hands, paired with his ornate longsword.
The two clashed once more in a flurry of fang, tooth and blade. Paws slammed, shields clashed, sword met flesh. I could not see much in the mess, only blood. It came in spurts, and once the battle had concluded, the sight was bloody. Half-sunk in the skull-white sands was the beast, its red eyes now white and its body limp. Only a short distance away was the warrior, limping away. I did not understand how my friend could die from such an ordeal - until I saw the blood. In his shoulder, a blotch of blood stained his armor, until the warrior finally collapsed. And then, I returned to the presence of the Mother Priestess and frowned as she left.
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