Hollowness

Awakening

Hunched over on an open expanse of withering field was a bleak and ragged temple, absent of any divine protection that had long been retracted by any almighty Gods that may have existed. Blackened roses were tightly bundled up around, huddling like desperate humans would for warmth; their deep blood red petals crisping up before disintegrating into ashes like a melancholy cremation. A fleeting glimmer of incandescent light was engulfed by moody clouds which personified misery itself - almost as if it were trying to silence the daring outliers. Erupting into a trampling downpour, the swirling grey fumes sneered at all that was beneath them.

Smooth, hard, cold. The delapitated temple stood up on the field, drearily gazing out at the shadowy plains it was laid upon, as the spitting rain futilely attempted to asphyxiate it. It was, by no means, an extraordinary temple, but a dreadfully large abandoned building constructed through the use of a basic blueprint which had long since been foregone. Holding up the crumbling rooftop were four cournerstone pillars made of ancient marble, engraved with the flickering patterns of blazing flames - for which the creation of was lost in time. Sharply gushing in was the intense and forceful gusts through the lack of sheltering walls; its touchy tendrils searched every inch of the floor which consisted of a faded red carpet, that had been stained with the decomposition of the oiled hardwood benches. Separating the two halves of the spacious hall was a streaking white platform that was like a torch in the dark, with its blinding brightness and polished finish. It was well maintained and followed though onto a grand stage, lined with golden trimmings and chiseled shapes. Sitting on the stage, with a trainquil manner, was an overbearingingly large platinum altar which was decorated with beautifully eloquent designs and adorned with five cylindrical silver candles arranged in a pentagram formation.

Piled loosely behind the vast altar was a chipped, battered suit of armour which had lost its lustrous sheen and was now merely dull, matte, steel scrap. Rattling up, as if it was being clumsily contstructed with etherial hands, a

A helmet, adorned with uneven needles . It was of a dull, matte, steel colour and had kinks and chips and scratches all around. Now a breastplate emerged, rusty and damaged. Thin indents were carved in the collar, coiling and curving around until they reached the hip. Both legs had thin gold strands dangling at the sides, twirling around in the shallow breeze. The leggings were battered and creased with sharp kneecaps poking out. Lastly, a pair of thin squeaky boots pointed upwards.

Upwards towards the sky, brown and hazy through the open roof of the broken temple. Whispers and murmurs danced around the pillars of the run down building. Torches blazed brighter than ever, flickering and stuttering in crescendo of heat and smoke. Shadows waltzed in the darkness, matching the wild flow of flames. The flames roared even louder still; a blinding reflection of the wildfire shimmering on the smooth head of armour.

All at once the flames were engulfed by a sheer grey aura.

The noise stopped. The torches burned out. The smoke faded out. Silence trickled in.

A pair of glowing eyes flared up, burning the darkness.