On that day, a dying sun rose above the heavens and brought hell down upon those who witnessed.

Note: This chapter is a test to see if the main audience responses well to a more violent side of the story. (If not I'll keep it tamed I swear! >.<) Also to allow a glimpse into the long journey which is Alexandra's evil origin story and truthfully I had a lot of ideas in my head that I didn't want to put off for too long but now I'm rambling so enjoy!

Princess Alexandra

There is something brittle in me that will break before it bends. Perhaps if the enemy had brought a smaller army I might have had the sense to run. But he overdid it. The chance of victory from destined defeat is something I can't resist.

This is where the wise man turns away. This is where the holy kneel and call on Gods. These are the last miles, my brothers. Don't look to me to save you. Don't think I will not spend you. Run if you have the wit. Pray if you have the soul. Stand your ground if courage is yours. But don't follow me.
Follow me, and I will break your heart.

The eclipse cast its dominion over the marshland and bore witness to the two armies. Their sides evenly match with a mass of humanity clad in iron and armed with sharpened steel.

Across the battlefield, every man leered at their counterpart on the enemy’s side and coveted their blood. Peace was an impossibility.

The Fortian, famous for their marksman and crossbow militia held the advantage of range. The Fortian commander knew to claim victory they needed to goad the enemy into the marsh and so sent messengers throughout his ranks allowing the common soldier free reign to bellow insults at the enemy.

The few comments the Imperial troops overheard came across as the generic nonsense of a foreign tongue they hadn’t bothered to learn, they held.

Until what little the Fortian knew of the common tongue reached the frontline.

“WHORE QUEEN!”

“WITCH!”

“DEAD BITCH!”

The insults shot through the heavy fog like cannonballs to the men who’d heard them. The Imperial troops know the world over for their discipline. Broke ranks.

Like men possessed they fought to be free from their comrades to be free to attack the ramble who insulted their fallen princess, many found their freedom and charged the enemy single-handedly only to be greeted with a barrage of armour piercing bolts and arrows.

The dozen or so men laid in the marsh, the once who weren't dead from their wounds suffered **** by drowning in putrid waters. First blood drew a burst of cheerful laughter from the Fortian’s side they discovered the imperial army was nothing without their goddess of war to guide them.

But as they laughed and mocked the faceless they had struck down, effortlessly. One soldier managed to find his footing and another propped himself with his polearm soon after a handful of so-called dead men stood up glaring at the enemy with a ravished stare.

Terrified the Fortians broke rank themselves and ran in the hundreds to finish off the risen men. To hear a sound the Fortians wouldn’t soon forget. It was like a thunderstorm had suddenly sprung into existence, and their first five ranks were completely cut down, dead to a man without even the time to scream. The enemy’s weapons tore limbs from bodies or simply burst men apart like wet sacks.

The imperial troops still in formation knelt and above them the second rank aimed their firearms overheads of the first rank whose had caused the first barrage of the devastating loss of life. Fired upon both the imperial soldiers who survived and the Fortian alike without hesitation.

From the crowd of the imperial army walked its commander a giant of a man wielding a large mace clad head to toe in black steel plate armour his appearance alone was the embodiment of a person dragging the devil from the pits of hell and imprisoning him in armour and sending him onto the battlefield.

The commander looked to the bloodbath his troops had created and back at them. He nodded his head and slammed his gauntleted fist into his breastplate. Again and again, until the whole imperial army clad in armour fell into his rhythm as themselves had copied his action.

He pointed his mace directly into what was left of the enemy’s line and roared in a violent rage. “For Princess Alexandra. No mercy. KILL THEM ALL!”

At his words the Fortian’s charge had ground to a halt, men and women milling around in confusion and fear as they suddenly understood the reality of what they had begun. The princess’ warriors put up their guns and marched towards them, unsheathing steel.

A roar like something out of a nightmare. They were already beaten, their first volley had broken them, and soon the Fortian commander was lying dead in the middle of the marsh. The lower half of his body had been blown clean off. People were begging for mercy, throwing down their weapons and trying to surrender, but the armoured warriors didn’t stop. They marched right up to them and hacked into them without mercy. They were cut apart and brutalised with such an economy of **** that no one could believe so many people could die in such a short time. This wasn’t war, at least not where men of honour fought in glorious duels, this was mechanised butchery.

The Fortian’s army had been destroyed, not routed, not put to flight. Destroyed. In less than an hour twelve thousand men and women had been slaughtered.

These were the acts of men who once followed their princess but without her they only sort ****.

The marshland was painted red and the imperial soldiers knelt knee-deep in their work to a procession of robed figures. They approached the centre of the massacre carrying the cold dead body of the imperial princess on their shoulders and laid her dead centre beneath the eclipse.

“Will this work?” The commander of the imperial forces stated as he asked the leader of the procession.

“This is fated so to answer your question, yes it will work.” The strange clergy-like fingered knelt next to the princess’s body and brushed the hair from her pale face. “Soon **** will be but just an inconvenience to one such as you.”

The iron commander held the butt of his mace to the clergymen’s head the moment he touched the princess’ body, it was still wet with the blood of the ones it had ended. “For your case, it better work.”

The hooded man only crocked a laugh to the giant. “For you to now start disbelieving the power of God, this mortal woman must have left quite the impact on you.”

“Enough of your twisted words, all your prophecies can’t predict that she is the one... ”

“She is the one.” The man answered with certainty before he continued. “In this world, is the destiny of mankind to be controlled by some transcendental entity or law. Is it like the hand of God hovering above them and this woman is kinsmanship with God. The one whose reign will capture this world and destiny ushering in a new age of darkness.”

“I don’t care for your serums, just bring her back.”

“Don’t worry about that you have given me plenty of material to work with.” The crazed man’s laughter erupted throughout the battlefield.