A single scream breaks sleep's grasp, an omen of the coming fight. Soon the signal sounds all too clear, the invasion force is not far from here. The soldiers quickly rush the walls determined not to falter or fall. They know the price of their defeat, the lives of all those hidden in the keep. The full moon guards the land bringing a vision none could withstand; an army large as the starlit sky, a force that they could not defy.

The mist lies low over the tattered field. As the armies face, no chance to yield, banging swords and shields alike in wait of a deadly night. The moon slowly shows her face to unveil humanity's disgrace: the burning hatred that lies within every soul, even a king's. One side's good, the other bad, both ready for the fight. Good and evil? Nothing but a child's dream, awaken by an angel's scream for no such boundaries exist this night. Here … and now; they live and die for one more fight.

A hail of arrows fills the sky, over the walls that still stand high. The weary heroes raise their shields hoping this storm to weather still. They stand strong against a wave of relentless fury the enemy brings. Bodies fall and scream of pain, but then see them rise again. Titans, Gods you watch in fear, these men today, they will not kneel. Once more they rise, once more they fall, their broken bodies can stand no more, and yet they form together in toe just to face another foe. But this night might be their last, for death's vengeance comes fast. The gates burst open unable to hold, the endless number of the horde. Outnumbered by far they held the line taunting death with strength divine. The storm's surging through the narrow gate, forcing back with a wall of hate, all those who wish to tempt their fate. Horrid screams of pain and fear, now fill the streets they once held dear, as soldiers gone feral with hate and love of war search the village to kill once more. They search the houses; they search the halls, mercy, a word they no longer recall.  Yet fortune smiles upon the ones who bear no arms, hidden away from all harms. "Not one step back!" the guardians yell as more of their brothers' fell. They shout, they scream, they fight and they stand against the stream of foes and beasts, their line flawless, without a seam. But valor and strength alone, a victory they cannot bring, their numbers dwindling with every swing.
And so it came, the empty husks that once were men littered the streets, never to rise again. The Guardians fell one by one, struck by their hands, routed by their minds. The white castle now stands alone; its high walls have crumbled all. Seven warriors bar the doors, refusing the pain, refusing to fall. Two brothers they protect that hold the kingdom's true fate. The keep is breached; hastily they try to flee, but their path is not yet free. Four remained to make a stand, defying their very last command. With righteous fury they refused to fall, hitting, fighting, clawing to their last and laughing at death's cold grasp. That night they fell, their blood traded for another breath.

Three men survived to guard their lords against the wrath of unyielding foes. Chased by madness no longer men, the brothers fled; both riding hard into a future that now seems barred. Four days and four nights the chase went on, yet no end in sight, no end for their plight. A decision was made, as the death drew closer, to split our paths, a thought regretted later.

That is the story of that night, the night when darkness won the fight. But now the brothers will meet again, perhaps hope may still remains. If they join the fight as one, then others will be sure to come and the Kingdom will be born again.

So the brothers race to meet at the site of their first defeat. Awaiting as I did for years, a lone man upon an empty road, a debt, a promise in arrears. Time has washed away my youth, leaving but a withered body and a dreaming mind. What I was, I am no more, a once proud general, a once brave leader, that had to fall. "Still your thoughts you battered old fool!" I tell myself, my mind must clear, for now, the time draws near... They should arrive..... A strange feeling begins to grip my mind, the feeling of a tainted heart that's blind.

The sun stands guard above my head reminding me that I am still not dead. The burning heat is hard to stand but I ….. They're here. Strong and proud, the brothers meet. But not all is well. Instead of words they speak with steel and strength of arms. I… I cannot move, an inch at least. Struck by this dreadful sight I could not fathom why they fight. Slashes and punches, almost brutal and savage tear through their flesh with hardly any damage. Like animals they seem fight, life for them is hope too slight. The light that sparks when their weapons meet outshines the sun; the sky turns bleak. That's when I knew what need be done. I drew my sword and charged the fight. Only to be struck by the brothers blight. As I fell on bended knee, a short whisper escaped my grasp:"My sons finally defeated me". The words reached the warring two shattering their will to fight. They lowered their swords and went away.. in silence. Separate or together I cannot say.

My story ends here and now. My life is gone swept by the wind of time. A fair trade I think it was, an old man's life for two young souls. Will they bring peace? I do not know. But they still live, hope remains.