He stood upon the rise overlooking fields once golden with wheat, now blackened by shadow tendrils slithering across broken soil. Smoke coiled into the pale sky, drifting from burning towers and shattered gates. Birds circled above in silent spirals, their wings cutting dawn into bleeding shards of light
He stepped forward. Shadows flowed before his bare feet, parting scorched grass into silent pathways. Each step carried him deeper into what remained of the empire. Villages lay scattered across the plains, their thatched roofs still smoldering from temples burned to ash. Farmers crouched beside ruined harvests, clutching silent children to trembling chests
Ruvan passed them without pause. Shadows rippled behind him, whispering secrets in tongues of darkness. Mothers pressed their faces to dirt, praying to broken gods that he would not turn his gaze upon them
He did not
Mercy was the cruelest gift
He continued walking until the land began to rise again. In the distance loomed Blackspire Keep, the fortress where lords gathered armies to defend what remained of imperial pride. Granite towers clawed into dawn sky. Iron gates stood sealed. Banners snapped beneath rising sun, each bearing the crowned wolf sigil of the northern dukes
At the fortress gates thousands of soldiers stood ranked behind spiked shields. Archers lined parapets, bows nocked and ready. Siege engines bristled upon stone walls, their iron bolts aimed at the narrow approach
He stopped at the base of the hill. Shadows pooled around his ankles, spreading outward across scorched earth like an oil tide. For a moment only the wind spoke, rustling torn banners along ruined roads
Upon the battlements a general clad in silversteel stepped forward. His helm bore wolf fangs cast in iron. His voice boomed across silent fields
Demon spawn you will not breach these walls. Today we purge your darkness with steel and flame
Ruvan tilted his head. Shadows rippled behind him. He raised his gaze to the iron gates. His voice carried no anger, only silence shaped into words
Steel and flame are nothing to shadow
He lifted his hand. Shadows surged forward, black waves crashing against iron gates. Metal shrieked as darkness poured through arrow slits and murder holes. Screams erupted from within towers. Archers dropped burning pitch pots as shadows coiled around their legs, dragging them from parapets into roiling black depths below
The general roared orders. Siege engines released with deafening thunder. Iron bolts tore into shadow waves, vanishing within roiling darkness without sound or echo. Shadows surged up the fortress walls, splitting stone with silent hunger. Towers crumbled under black tendrils. Granite walls cracked down the middle
Soldiers charged down shattered steps, swords raised. Shadows engulfed them. Blades flashed before vanishing into silent dark. Screams tore across battlements before ending in wet cracks and gurgling silence
Ruvan walked forward as shadows parted iron gates like rotting wood. Inside the fortress courtyard burned with chaos. Horses reared, tearing reins from stable posts before shadows swallowed their whinnies. Soldiers formed shield walls around fleeing nobles. Servants screamed beneath collapsing towers
He passed them without pause. Shadows slithered after him, dragging bodies into black pools that swallowed blood into silent oblivion
At the keep's grand doors stood the duke, clad in black plate etched with wolf sigils. His silver hair fell to broad shoulders. He raised a massive warhammer etched with radiant runes. As Ruvan approached he swung with a roar
The hammer cracked into shadows surging forward. Runes flashed with golden light, pushing darkness back. The duke roared again and swung. Shadows recoiled with each strike, splitting before rune-lit steel
Ruvan paused, watching
Interesting
He stepped forward. Shadows split before the hammer, parting in silent arcs. The duke swung downward, aiming for his skull. Ruvan raised his hand. Shadows exploded upward, catching the hammer mid-strike. The runes flickered but darkness sank into etched lines, swallowing their light into silent void
The hammer crumbled in the duke's grasp. He stared at shattered steel before shadows wrapped around his arms. Bone snapped. He screamed as tendrils crushed plate and flesh alike. Shadows slithered up his neck into his mouth. His screams ended in wet silence
Ruvan walked past his corpse into the keep's grand hall. Chandeliers flickered with dying candlelight. Velvet curtains burned at their hems, smoke curling to vaulted ceilings. Nobles gathered upon marble steps before a golden throne, their jeweled hands clutching sacred icons and shattered swords
An old duchess stepped forward, robes trailing across blood-streaked stone
Monster what do you seek. You have slaughtered gods. Burned temples. Erased knowledge. Murdered kings. What remains
Ruvan looked at her. Shadows rippled across the hall, curling around fallen banners and fractured pillars
Despair
He raised his hand. Shadows exploded outward. Nobles flailed as darkness coiled around them, lifting them into air. Bones cracked beneath black tendrils. Blood sprayed across marble floors etched with wolf sigils. Shadows devoured screams into silent oblivion
He walked up the throne steps. Shadows parted before his feet. He sat upon the golden throne, its cold surface pressing into bloodstained skin. Shadows gathered around him like a silent crown
He closed his eyes
Today I burned your gods
Today I erased your knowledge
Today I slaughtered your kings
Today I became your silence
Tomorrow I will become despair etched into your bones
He opened his eyes. Dawn burned bright beyond shattered windows. Shadows rose behind him like endless mountains
And they would teach the world despair