Sean Hubbard

The Beginning of Darkness

The roars of the Orc horde could have been heard from beneath the mines of Dresebul, the deepest mines of the world. They flew forward in a rage as the people of the small village of Fawnlight, within the land of Asterine, screamed and ran for cover. This small fishing village stood no chance against the onslaught as the Orc horde overcame them as a shadow cast from a setting sun overtakes the land. Fires erupted, people scattered and screamed as they attempted to escape their fate from the large apex predators viewing the village as prey today. Smoke filled the sky, the once stark crimson of a sunrise now marking a day of bloodshed. A young woman with a fresh gash upon her forehead cowers behind a dying horse, her small sweating hands exacerbating the horse’s temperament from a giant axe wound at its nape. Within her grasp, her younger brother swaddled against her chest. As she attempted to run, she is knocked over by the panicking horse, almost like a candle in the night, giving attention to a group of Orcs as she attempts to flee. She scrambled up on her feet and ran further and further, tears flew down her face, her breath caught in her throat, the burning sensation of the smoke caused her to choke, the burns of the fire were fresh upon her back. She still saw the stuck face of her mother seared into her memory. The sword wound in the young girl’s abdomen created more tension as she attempted to flee. The Orcs were gaining, their grunting to one another now a perfect harmony of understanding on how to corner their next meal. The sobbing of the young woman was overcome by the screams from behind her, the clumping of heavy feet gaining upon her, and the now dead silence in front of her. She hurried forward still, sheer willpower drove her until her foot caught on a decaying log and she fell into a wide birth of uprooted and torn down trees. She buried her burnt and scratched face into her hands, as she attempted to cocoon her young brother with her quivering body. She struggled to breathe as she cried, awaiting with torturous agony of what the Orcs had in store for her and her brother. After what felt like an eternity, she rolled over and wiped her eyes, looking in bewilderment at the group of Orcs staring past her with dumbfounded looks painted on their bloodied faces. She turned around to see a very large golden dragon, its neck curling backward like a cobra preparing to strike, its tongue flickering in and out while its hands spread wide, showing massive golden scaled wings in between its long and outstretched fingers.