Heaven thundered.

Earth shook.

Steel littered the earth, where fallen heroes took their final slumber, shrouded by thick fog.

The rivers ran red with the blood of men, swirling with green from the blood of goblins.

The fallen lay in heaps as numerous as the stars, which once filled the heavens before they fell.

Sir Steffin—

garments torn, dirty hair ablaze in the wind—

climbed to the highest summit and raised his blood-stained sword.

Flesh weary but spirit unconquerable, he directed the heavens as if their conductor, and the music—

the symphony and choir of heaven—

Then, with a swift swipe of his glowing blade, the clouds parted, tearing a hole in the sky.

Once again, starlight fell to the darkened earth.