Guardian: Prolouge

There were blackened bodies everywhere. Corpses were sprawled out across the ground, shriveled and painted an irresistible black. Burnt hands bore fingers that were wispy as if made from ash, curled forever in a gesture of immeasurable pain. There were no eyes left to the bodies, just gaping holes that were peeled back to release visions of ivory bone. Thousands of them, charred and open mouthed to give the impression of a never ending scream.
         Three figures walked above the death that lay pitifully at their feet, not daring to breathe. Sephine lead the trio, the expression in his face unbreakable. His jaw was clenched and his lips were pressed so tightly together that the black cross tattoo was no longer visible in the corner of his mouth. It was a mark all of them bore, a sign that they were of the opposing group. Sephine did not permit himself a look down at the war under his feet; the stench of the burned flesh was too overwhelming in itself. His gaze stayed steady and straight ahead. He looked almost confident. Behind him, Ovid was starring with horrified eyes at the carcasses below. With twitching fingers he managed to pull a few white-blonde locks from his forehead that was bathed in perspiration, taking in a ragged but inaudible breath. The land still seemed to whisper the curse that had took the life out of all the bodies that lay under them. Ardeo. Terrible power came with that word; it along with contact of the victim could send a body ablaze from the inside out. It was the last word all of the Pyrrhus and Shamira under them had heard.
      Ovid's stomach spun wildly but his easy lope didn't falter, even when faint screaming from off in the distance tickled at the group's ears. He only stuck his chin up, especially when Sephine looked back at him and Matthias. Amalric was close; he could smell him. It would only take one word to silence his lust for power, one word to silence a war. The scrawny male gave into another shudder, wetting his lips as if preparing himself to speak it.
    Once the screams had faded, the silence spilled back into the air. Sephine stopped walking abruptly, holding up a large hand in warning. Ovid's heart kicked up and panic rose inside his throat; something was wrong. Sephine's expression was curious and he had his head cocked to one side as if he was hearing something. Ovid took a placid step up, biting his lip. Next to him, Matthias suddenly drew in a lungful of foul air.

"I have brought them to you, Amalric!"