~~~~A glimpse into the future…Shadows of the Forgotten~~~~
The crimson sun had set, stripping all rays of light from out of the sky. Any inkling of the moon or stars remained smothered beneath the weighted blanket of despair. A thick, brown fog clung to the treetops, dispersing at it’s leisure across the moss covered ground. The air was stale and humid, causing a constant tickle in Life’s lungs. The putrid scent of death rotting from the inside out, was carried on an infectious breeze as if to infest every living creature with it’s malicious disease. The winds lead the way, beckoning her children to follow, the true messengers of Lady Death herself. Despite the eerie silence, their haunting presence could not be ignored and was indeed a screaming reminder that the darkness was far from desolate.
A familiar, mournful song started some miles away, fading in and out across the winds like a teasing whisper. The howls, at first, were lonely and pleading. They went on in translated sobs of grief that were soon answered by a stronger pair of vocals, their call soothing and reassuring. The howls appeared to bounce off the trees as more of the night’s voices answered, this time not as distant, echoing in a curious, intricate pattern. Soon enough the winds were screaming in protest, angry snarls and growls piercing through the static of howls, alerting any creatures in the proximity to the immeasurable force by the countless voices that threatened the shadows.
The horses began stamping and snorting nervously as an eerie silence fell upon the air. The forest shivered against the winds, the presence of fear creeping along the dirt as some of the horses reared up and whinnied, turning about to sprint away from the open treeline. Normally when wolves howled, it sounded lonely and mournful: A pained soul screaming for release. Yet, when the echo of growls reached the ears of those lost souls guarding their leader in what could have been blind or misdirected faith, the spitting and snapping had already made it within the nearby shadows and it was too late. The screams of men barely begun, cut short by hungry teeth soaking the earth in blood, sweat and tears and then another warning call was sung: A promise of a bloody reckoning.
Dozens of multicolored eyes materialized only for mere seconds before fading back into darkness. The abyss appeared to open up and part for two even blacker figures; a wispful, mist-like outline of what the imagination only visited in nightmares. Gradually as they continued forward, eyes adjusted to the wolves, amber and golden eyes burned to reflect flames. Again came the distant cries, answering the call of their brothers and sisters and again, into what mimicked drowning in their deafening spell.
They were coming..