IMPRESS. [Book 1]

Chapter Eighty-Five: The Great War (p.4)

Here is

Chapter Eighty-Five: The Great War (p. 4)

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THIRD PERSON ~

Following on from the former King's death, nature lost its vitality. Since Creon had been gifted the essence of giving life to greenery, his absence meant trees withered, leaves shrivelled, and flowers lost their bloom. In memorial of the retired King, the battlefield lost its life, drying up and transitioning into a deep yellow with a brownish cast.

Where dead men lay grew an offspring of thorned, jade black roses which symboled death.

In the distance stood the black witch, Aeliana, gracing the outskirts of the battlefield. With an inability to intervene in the prophecised battle, she had just witnessed the death of a man whom she'd served and respected for years play out. Many would assume her shed tears were for Oberyn, but they were for Creon.

She upheld her solemn stance and continued to observe the frenzied scene that took place around his corpse and grieving son Zachary Beaumont. With Aeliana's intense, purple-eyed gaze locked on the battlefield with fondness, she let a gloved hand crawl up beneath her black veil. With a heavy heart, she allowed her lace fingers to wipe away the lost tears that had fallen from her eyes.

The witch was seemingly affected by the retired King's death. It appeared to have affected her more than it was supposed to. With a single sniff, she let her wet eyes pierce through her mask and continue to watch the battle roll out.

"Fire the catapults!" Roared a raging Richard Harris, the man in charge of the vampire army.

The alpha Raymond furiously led his pack and charged in the direction of the emerging demon-witch troops. The two had been fuelled by the retired King's death and were undoubtedly not going down without a fight. It was as clear as day that they would leave a trail of dead bodies behind first before their own demise.

The battle proceeded like a tunnel with no end and it rained the blood of man. Spears, balls of fire and other projectiles were forcefully propelled through the doom and gloom sky, killing masses of shaken soldiers. Heavy crossbow-like weapons were also used for ungodly acts. With more than one ballista being operated by both sides of the war to shoot arrows, darts as well as hurl stones at each other.

The Kingdom of Asten had fallen into a pit of madness. No one and nobody was safe no more, not even on royal soil. Areas of every region had been invaded by the war of the supernatural, making today a never-ending nightmare for all. The day would not end until there was a victory and surprisingly, the safest place to be, was on the battlefield.

This was no longer a mindless war between the vampires and witches. It had become far more personal. This was now a battle between two kings and peace.