The battlefield was quiet. Not with peace but with fear and death.
And there she stood in the center - tall, breathtaking, terrifying
Seraphine Kaelith.
A fire feared by everyone. Even her own people. Heir to House Virex. Raised to kill. A name whispered like a curse across nations.
Her armor, midnight black and gold trimmed, gleamed under the setting sun. Blood stream ran down her cheek, across her jaw - none of it her own. A greatsword rested on her shoulder, it's tip dripping red onto the cold earth.
Behind herher, the remaining soldiers stood still. They did not cheer. They did not breathe. They watched as the legend walked.
Seraphine's eyes -sharp, cold, and unrelentingunrelenting scanning the field. A general gasped dragging himself through the mud which turned red from his soldiers blood - begging to be spared.
She laughed. The sound melodic like a music but dangerously scary sent shivers down his spine. She walked over to him, boots sinking in crimson earth. Slow and steady like a lioness hunting her prey.
She crouched, tugging her hair behind her ear like a devil dressed as an angel.
"Do you know why nations fear me? "She asked, her voice soft, like a silk over a dagger.
The man whimpered
" Because I don't kill for pleasure "she wishpered in his ear sending shivers down his spine, " I kill for peace. "
And with one swift move, she ended the plea before it became pathetic.
She turned away and the wind shifted, carrying her scent - blood and roses - across the dead land.