Dusk.
Ariel is at peace.
There's nothing to fear, nothing to worry about. Only the sound of silence and the calm of Death.
In her prison cell, high in the tower, all she can see is Death and destruction. It's a torture camp where dragon masters torture and kill humans and other species, alike. The smell of blood is almost sickening.
She sleeps. A lot. When she sleeps she dreams. Of her land, once beautiful. Of her friends, once alive. Of her lover, once holding her tight and never letting her go. His silver eyes, his soft touch. All gone forever. But never from her heart.
She has forgotten how long she's been there. One month or one year, it all seems the same.
She has lost so much weight now, she's no longer the strong and powerful witch she once was.
The bones of her chest can be seen through her consumed shirt.
Her jewel has been taken away. The only thing that gave her comfort and made her feel close to Mefistofel was taken away by the Magus.
There is nothing left to do, but waiting to die.
The sound of a horn!
It wasn't a dragon horn or a troll horn. It was a horn she never heard before.
Very loud, very deep, very sharp. Very old.
Its sound echoes three times in the air. The dragon Masters run at their positions, riding the dragons into the air, ready to spit fire and ice. Their horns echo in the air, ready for battle!
Someone is attacking!
With great effort Ariel gets herself up from the cold stone floor to look outside her barred window.
Her skeleton fingers wrapping around the bars, trying to find the energy to get herself up.
There are thousands of shadows at the red horizon, charging against the trolls and the dragon masters on land. There were flying creatures, armed with spears, attacking dragons and their masters, flying swiftly avoiding the fire and the ice, as if they knew their enemy.
They are giants with claws and wings, fire in their eyes and rage in their roar.
The army attacking is too far for her to see clearly, but the red sun reflects like rubies upon their armours. They wear pointed helmets, decorated with long hair with different colours and swords and spears that cut bodies like butter.
The army throws fire and thunder, the elements obey the army and the sky turns black with magic. Ariel recognises that magic and a spark of hope lits inside her once again.
Could it be that someone out there is still fighting with the old magic?
If that was true, the Battle isn't over.
The War isn't over.
She collects all the energy she has but to no use. She is too weak to stand up, let alone fight.
Someone is fighting and she can't help.
Whatever this army is, it has power to control elements.
She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of battle.
So terrifying and so beautiful.
Spears piercing armours. Shields being broken, swords fighting swords.
Trolls dying in agony. Dragon masters falling to their death.
Fire and ice battling each other.
Winged warriors.
Beasts fighting beasts.
Everything disappears.
Everything is surrounded by light.
Ariel is floating in the air, carried by an invisible force.
Everything is light.
Everything is Peace.
Ariel opens her eyes.
A face surrounded by light is looking at her, someone is carrying her in gentle arms.
All she can define is dark hair and shining armour. He speaks to her in a calming and deep voice.
"Do not be afraid Ariel. You are safe now. Everything is going to be ok. Your strength will come back. You will fight again soon. I will protect you. I always will."
Ariel recognises that voice. Had it been a few years or few centuries, that voice will never fade away from her mind and her heart. The voice she always believed she would hear again.
The sound of the battle is so far away, still so clear.
The army is advancing.
Warriors with shiny armour are now stained with black blood.
Winged warriors fight with broken spears and their claws are covered in the blood of their enemies.
Their fangs are dripping.
Its a land of Death and blood.
The Cursed ones. Those who fell and lingered in shame between Life and Death. They are now killing those who were once their companions in battles. They are fighting for their freedom in Death.
Dragons are fighting the sky, no longer with their masters on their backs.
Their hides are scarred and burnt, their eyes are losing rage.
Their battle with the winged beasts is exhausting them.
From the height of his tower, the Mage is watching his creatures being destroyed.
Like a God watching his creations failing under something more powerful. More ancient. More fierce.
Turning himself into a black cloud, he descends into the field like a twister of thunders.
He is now face to face with the general of the army.
His eyes ice blue, full of rage and evil.
The general's golden armour broken and stained in blood, his eyes so old, but deep and wise.
His long silver hair falling over his shoulder.
His top of his sword is broken.
-ARTHIOOONNN!-
Arthion smiles. His eyes meet the Mage's. He whispers.
"Brother....."
-It's been a long time! So long I lost count of the years. Or the centuries?-
Arthion stands tall, in all of his power, never advertising his brother's eyes.
-You have chosen a dark path. All these centuries in the darkness haven't thought you anything!-
-I have chosen Power! You have chosen exile!-
-You always had Power. You just couldn't get enough!-
-This world belongs to us! No other race! I will be their emperor! I will be the one they bow to! Your flying beast won't protect you forever! They are ancient history. You command them. We can rule together!-
-What makes you think I command them? Look at them. Do you not remember what they are?-
Arthion smiles.
The Mage's eyes are as surprised as they are confused. He looks at those giant beasts fighting and clawing into their enemies' flesh with no mercy. The blood in their eyes, the rage in their growl, the fury in their fight.
Finally the realisation.
-No! You brought them back! What kind of Power......-
Arthion never stops smiling at his brother. The joy of his brother realisation was rather amusing.
The confusion in the Mage's eyes turns to anger.
-All these centuries, brother. You always had the Power that can create and destroy Life. You always had it! That's why you exiled. You know where it is. You know who has it. You used it! You have released the Power. Why? WHY? What could drive you to be so fool to waste such gift?.-
-Our time is over! It's time to step aside and let the new race reign this world!-
-Never! They don't deserve this world! They didn't create it!-
-Neither did we, brother. This is going to hurt me more than you can imagine.-
Arthion lifts his sword above his shoulders, with both hands.
