Risen

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The castle was falling.

Walls and battlements of yellow stone stretched into the distance, fading into the haze of the noonday sun. I was on top of the tallest tower on the eastern wing, and from my vantage point I could see the battle raging. Two black armies fought in the haze, clashing on high walkways and in the courtyards below. They blended in a sea of violence, tiny figures striking each other down, the bodies tumbling into space to wisp away into nothingness.

The attacking army was made up out of jann, slender humanoids that seemed to have been sculpted from living darkness. They moved with a darting grace, murderous and quick. The defenders were shadow constructs, smoky bodies with glowing white eyes. They were slower and clumsier than the jann, but they didn’t die – when their bodies were destroyed they would simply re-form at their place of creation. A steady stream of them were flying from the tombs, flapping through the sky with heavy wingbeats to rejoin the combat.

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