Like a wisp, the white light passed through the blood-red sky. The clouds were stained red, in harmony with the sunset, creating a dazzling scene reflecting off the red scenes below.
But what lay below was in stark contrast to the sight above, a worn-out battlefield, but one that lacked life or movement; all were dead, blood was flowing all over like tributaries all leading to a hollow filled with a lake of blood, on greater concentration, there were more lakes of the kind, a lot of gore and body parts scattered across the land with various weapons of swords, spears and arrows thrust into bodies on the bloody plain's soil whose atmosphere was filled with red dust and vapour – if you could see it. How could no-one have survived this? Of the thousands of men and women in armour that lay slain on the ground with crows feasting on their flesh, no one to take victory? Or was it just…sad?
