They stood, watching, waiting…

The ferocious army that all three worlds feared. Deceived and frozen. A million moons leaving them covered in sand and dust. Their existence purged from the annals of time.

Yet they waited. As patient as snipers.

They could see.

The reign of the sorcerers had come to an end. Hunted and eliminated due to their own arrogance.

It was the age of the men.

Greedy fools. With every passing year they came closer.

Soon, they would break stone; and the curse would be broken.

The army would rise again.

The reign of the demons would start.


In response to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers challenge of 4 Jan 2019, based on a photo by Russell Gayer

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5 thoughts on “The Waiting

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