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The kingdom of Gracia lay dormant. The soldiers were alert on their watch, yet they said nothing. They stood as if they were not alive but stone figures, in place to ward off any demonic force. The moon glowed a crimson red, shedding a tear for its kin that had been lost the day before. It cast its gaze in an eerie glow over the surrounding plains. Gracia's retainers carefully watched the silent plains. The wind howled, releasing the souls of the felled warriors into the skies.
Inside, the warriors slept soundly. Malice and Magus had shared a room, and after a brief talk, they had retired. Breathing heavily, their snores offset eachother in a perfect harmonic balance.
The room over held Belial and Nichi. Since he'd converted to his elf-like form, Belial had been experiencing a new level of sleep. He felt at rest instead of on alert. Ensayne slept above him, floating above him, hands over her chest just as that of a fresh corpse.
The serenity of the night was short lived. The moon shifted, its glow becoming bright red. The fields and the city were both showered with a blood red light, startling the steadfast guards. A war conch echoed through the air, warning the city of an impeding doom. Ishia bolted up in bed, and reflexively grasped her sword that lay propped against the wall. Within minutes, she was dressed and at the steps of the royal palace. The others filed in sporadically, Nichi being the last to arrive. They all stared up in awe of the blood moon.
"They come," Belial muttered, his head down in prayer. "The demons will be upon us soon."
The soldiers were assembling in lines at the foot of the palace steps. Their lines spanned out into the distance. Archers could be seen filling the upper barracks, neatly lined. Ishia watched her warriors with pride. This was her kingdom, and it would not go down without a fight. She would defend it until the last ounce of her strength had been taken from her. She raised her blade high into the air, as if to strike the great gods themselves.
"Tonight, we fight! Fight for those you love. Fight for your city. Fight for honor. But most of all, fight for yourself and what you believe in. This battle will be long and strenuous, but if you believe in your cause, believe in those who wish you to return home, then you WILL return home. I am honored to have you fighting by my side. I am not your ruler, but a soldier. We are as one on the battlefield. We will fight under the stars, and we will fight under the sun. We will NOT stop fighting, until we are all joined in the Gracian banquet hall or we are all joined in the heavens above. We will make this a battle that NO BODY will forget, and we WILL stand triumphant through it all. In the generations to come, one name will be remembered. That name is not Princess Ishia. That name is the Gracian Retainers!"
Cheers erupted from the soldiers, a cry of respect to their brave leader. No tears were shed, for the battle ahead would warrant enough mourning. The conch was blown a second time, and the demons appeared on the horizon. The endless black plague marched towards the city, then stopped 500 yards off the castle walls. The conch was blown one final time, and the retainers turned. There was a clanging sound of weapons being drawn. Nichi drew his sword, Malice his daggers, and Magus his scythe. This would be the start of a legendary battle, one that would be remembered for years to come.
And as the two sides stood on opposites sides of the battle, the wind blew. The trees shuddered uneasily as the conch sound dissipated into the night.
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