Haunting Oct 25, 2007 18:50:48 GMT -5
Post by €l SonikkÜ on Oct 25, 2007 18:50:48 GMT -5
The caw of a raven was like a breath of death over the barren field that had once been such a place of beauty and lush grass flowing in the breeze like a small green ocean. Where animals dwelled in peace and abundance. A distant memory lingering in the scent of death...
Bodies littered the clearing, scorched, twisted, inert, some over a week old. Thunder cracked overhead deafeningly, reflecting the infernal hatred and fury that had long sinse taken over the darkened eyes of the young prince of Haiska.
"My Lord...w-we can't go on like this! Y-you have t--"
The husky's shakey sentence was cut short as the prince turned in a flash and sent a piercing blue beam of chaos energy from his finger through the Haiskan warrior's chest. Killing him instantly. The death of what very well might've been the last voice of sanity.
The rest of the army, a smaller group consisting of only a few hundred didn't react to the death. They'd seen too much of it, and it was upon them even then. Crawling up their spines, stalking in the shadows waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. They could almost feel it. Some even envied the brave husky who'd stepped forward, trying to reach Saylo's mind, foolishly hoping to find at least a crack in the Prince's stubborness. For he had died quickly.
Saylo turned his eyes back accross the battlefield, though still standing parallel to it, glaring at a distant figure from the corners of his slightly narrowed eyes, head tilted downward.
"Give in Saylo! We don't have to fight this war any longer! Which do you choose?" A female's voice, noble, true, carried over the scourged distance. Saylo's choice was obvious. He ordered for genocide. The first order from his new authority that wouldn't be carried out...
Saylo sat at the table beside the eatery on the channel, gazing out at the distant water rippling in the moonlight. He sat alone, his arm streched out on the table and clung to a glass of ale that had had hoped would be a remedy. But it seemed that alcohol was quite the opposite of a remedy tonight.
Saylo's eyes were distant and glazed, his furry ears slightly slouched as were his shoulders. These memories kept returning, constantly haunting him every move he made. He'd almost gotten over it he thought, but like an annoying reletave, it never fully left. And it had been in full force after Saylo's already unstable mind ever sinse Vexxus had shown up randomly with his offer.
The handsom cat coughed softly, closing his eyes in misery. He had to find something to do, something to take his mind off the past. His usual theropy was to tear up or kill somebody. But he was in no mood for cops. Saylo hadn't remembered the time he felt so lifeless...