It drifted on the cold, midnight wind. the frigid air, biting at his skin, like a million razor, sharp claws, tearing his heart into mere fragments.
There would be no feast that night, no joyous, laughter or songs of victorious prosperity .
For the battle had been vicious and bloody, screams ringing out into the heavens to join their lost friends, families and most of all⌠their Queen....
