Darkness was falling upon them. Shadows had already begun to shift, and the stone beneath their feet stained with blood.
He had to move quickly. She was coming, and He was following close behind.
He lost his footing. Letting out a quiet hiss he found himself landing face-first on the ground. The grass between his fingers was almost too hot to bear – his eyes narrowed as he pulled himself from the ground, his robes flowing behind him as he raced to the Court. The swelter around him had grown far too much, and his unaccustomed feet (which must have been uncovered in his frantic escape from the mines) burned and screamed with each heavy thud made on parched earth.
"The blazes!" he shouted, shoving open the doors. Silence reigned as his fellow Pigmen turned their heads with wide eyes, surprise written over their faces. "Prepare the blazes! She has crossed the planes!"
Panic. Complete and total panic. Their voices called out and men fled to their stations. Women and children hid away, making their way deep underground. Several consoles were dragged out and their terminals were accessed. With just a few words spoken as password, a bright orange flash temporarily blinded the technology's creators; as the Pigmen uncovered their eyes the Blazes stood at the ready, their rotating flame colored cylinders smoking as their inner circuitry, yet to be completed, struggled to keep up with the demands given to them.
"Protect us." A man murmured to his personal console. A darker Blaze came from the computer, his face one of more emotion than the others - he looked at his creator with a subtle nod, his flame burning brighter.
Pigmen fled. Shouts of panic and dread and worry and terror echoed through the Court's halls, and as the Blazes made their way through the Court itself and guarded the building, a few select men chose to stay behind, donning golden blades and a stern expression. With clenched jaws the Pigmen began to build a fortress around the court according to plans created by their elder, an eye out for the blackened skies.
As pink bodies rushed through the Court, the Messenger who had delivered the bad news whirled around to face the doors, stepping out onto the steps as he looked toward the sky, watching the sun as it darkened. He closed his eyes as they burned, folded his hands against his chest as he kneeled.
As the fires began, he prayed.