The yellow sun blazed through the sky and seemed to melt as it met the
blood-red marble of the rubble scattered across the country-side. The
light pooled and swirled and seemed to drown into the shadows of the scrap
of what was once known as the Castle of Chaythe. The castle, once mighty
and elaborate and a thing made of countless nightmares and screams now
plagued the surrounding cliffs and barren mountains with its memory. The
chaos of the leftover pieces of Chaythe lay silent in peace, and let the
sun bathe them with its harsh warmth.
As the afternoon bore on into the evening, the sun gradually shifted into orange and then it flamed into an angry red, making sure the world reflected the red of its rage that the night had come too soon. But even as the sun made its early descent, the Castle of Chaythe soaked in the suns rays, absorbing the celestial anger into itself and waiting. Waiting.
A shadow loomed over the base of the rubble of the castle, and a snarl escaped its lips. A Barbarois slithered through the broken pieces cautiously and then it stopped, darting its tongue in and out to taste the air. Another shadow appeared behind it and then another, and another until the mountains of Chaythe were covered by the demonic looking creatures. The monsters stared into the blood of the rocks and a steady rhythm filled their ears. An ancient heartbeat came into being and it swelled in intensity in the heads of the Barbarois, so much that they screamed out in pain and blood rain down their ears and through the hands that covered them in vain.
And as the heartbeat quickened and threatened to explode their minds, a single vision came upon every single member of the Barbarois. Reddened lips of crimson blood moved with a dying grace as the echoes of an alto tone carried inside the monsters' ears.
"I call upon you, my servants of the night, to return to the darkness from which you were born. Sacrifice your souls and rise, my beloved, rise!"
The Barbarois shook they ground with the sound of their might and one by one threw themselves upon the jagged edges of The Castle of Chaythe. In an act of senseless genocide, the Barbarois gave up their lives, their blood pouring from their mortal wounds. Their blood formed a sea of red, and as if with a mind of its own, sucked every last piece of the fallen Castle into itself, and in a swarming mass of blood and rock, piled itself higher and higher onto the mountain top.
The bodies of the Barbarois rose from the dead, their eyes now bloodshot and their limbs moving like they were being pulled by invisible strings. A female maniacal laugh broke the night's quiet, and before the first glimmer of moonlight could reach the ground, the Castle of Chaythe had been rebuilt; reborn.
As the afternoon bore on into the evening, the sun gradually shifted into orange and then it flamed into an angry red, making sure the world reflected the red of its rage that the night had come too soon. But even as the sun made its early descent, the Castle of Chaythe soaked in the suns rays, absorbing the celestial anger into itself and waiting. Waiting.
A shadow loomed over the base of the rubble of the castle, and a snarl escaped its lips. A Barbarois slithered through the broken pieces cautiously and then it stopped, darting its tongue in and out to taste the air. Another shadow appeared behind it and then another, and another until the mountains of Chaythe were covered by the demonic looking creatures. The monsters stared into the blood of the rocks and a steady rhythm filled their ears. An ancient heartbeat came into being and it swelled in intensity in the heads of the Barbarois, so much that they screamed out in pain and blood rain down their ears and through the hands that covered them in vain.
And as the heartbeat quickened and threatened to explode their minds, a single vision came upon every single member of the Barbarois. Reddened lips of crimson blood moved with a dying grace as the echoes of an alto tone carried inside the monsters' ears.
"I call upon you, my servants of the night, to return to the darkness from which you were born. Sacrifice your souls and rise, my beloved, rise!"
The Barbarois shook they ground with the sound of their might and one by one threw themselves upon the jagged edges of The Castle of Chaythe. In an act of senseless genocide, the Barbarois gave up their lives, their blood pouring from their mortal wounds. Their blood formed a sea of red, and as if with a mind of its own, sucked every last piece of the fallen Castle into itself, and in a swarming mass of blood and rock, piled itself higher and higher onto the mountain top.
The bodies of the Barbarois rose from the dead, their eyes now bloodshot and their limbs moving like they were being pulled by invisible strings. A female maniacal laugh broke the night's quiet, and before the first glimmer of moonlight could reach the ground, the Castle of Chaythe had been rebuilt; reborn.