The wind howled around the valley as the moon gracefully rose to its full height,illuminating the earth. The wind whistled through the burning fields of golden wheat . Standing there like marble statues of ages ago,the horseman and his only friend, his horse. In the middle of the field, an enveloping flame spire towering ,only to die a little as time passed. It danced around the smoldering fields that were once rich with life,the food bowl of the land. The song of that night was as beautiful as it was horrifying,even the birds have died. The choking smoke made the horseman cough dryly. His eyes were burnt because of the air and also his heart.
The field was where he lived,where he grew and now will see it be destroyed by the demons that,somehow,save him.Only spare him to a fate worse than death. Actually,it was his fault for running away but he knew that it wouldn't change anything if he stayed and fought. But there was a silent feeling that it would have at least made it