Like ants, soldiers marched in perfect order never breaking the line; swords painted on their armor and shields, footsteps that beat the ground like a drum. Another line followed next to them; robes flapping in the cold wind of the Frostback Mountains, staffs flashing to provide warmth to their users.
The warring sides of a rebellion marched together to a single place off in the distance: The Temple of Sacred Ashes. It was the most holy ground of their world and the only place all people treated as sacred and was why Divine Justinia V had chosen this place for the conclave. Both mages and templars recognized the temple as holy ground and would treat it as such.
The day was silent. Only the howling wind and the drum of the templars' march echoed throughout the mountains. The tension was heavy as the opposing sides marched so close together, crushing their ribs with unseen forces. Suddenly, for a split second, the drums ceased and the wind was silenced. Then everything went wrong.
A green, blinding light overpowered the sun. An echo louder than a thousand cannons shook the heavens. Men were thrown back with the force of a god. And an explosion made the world tremble.
