I floated over the blighted lands, gazing once more over the aftermath of the battle with the Lich and his undead host. The sight I beheld offered me no comfort.
Every woodland as far as my naked eye could see rotted from root to trunk, their leaves brown and dry. The vast green plains that stretched from horizon to horizon had wilted, with piles of bone atop.
Not even the crystal flow of the rivers and streams between the cliffs and canyons were spared. Gone were the clear waters, replaced by murky depths and shallows. Gone were the flowers that bloomed by the cliffside, alongside the shrubs and tall grass that called those places home.
Not to mention the fish that once swam there. Dark magic had the power to twist living things. A fish touched by dark magic, if willed so by the caster, could become twisted and monstrous.
Such was what happened to the schools of fish I found glaring at me with a thousand sharp teeth and bulging, red eyes.
