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The world would not end in a bang or a whisper, but rather, one scream at a time in a slow, horrific and brutal war. The battles had raged on for days, weeks, even months, as metal clashed with metal. A cacophony of explosions erupted and shook the ground. All kinds of Magic Casters yelled out spells to encase and demolish their enemies.
Beings of magic, of new and old, humans and the like had join forces against a common enemy. They were, rightfully, called, ′The Blights’. Creatures of evil and death, with milk-white eyes and black skin that seemed rotten. Spitting image of their Master according to ancient texts.
But these creatures were nothing more than a nuisance, compared to their generals. The Generals were three powerful women called the Morrigan, loyal only to their Master. They had gifts of an unholy trinity, stronger together than apart. These gifts cost hundreds of lives, but this was war, so it wasn’t uncommon.
But, unlike every other war, this one had to happen, as the End of Days. With such battles, there is always a way to stop it. A ray of light and hope in this ongoing dark. A desolate demise of all the good in the world, chosen by Gods who can not or will not intervene. All in the form of a prophecy, a hero, and an ancient weapon that can defeat the Master.
Though, in this case, its two weapons made by the Gods. Chosen alongside heroes whose destinies with each other, for better or for worse, were intertwined.
The only question now is, where do we start?
