He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the massacre around him. But it was not to be. The destruction and agony that his homeland had suffered could not just be ignored by blocking ones sight. He could hear, smell, feel, the cries, blood and tremors that ran through the valley. Even the sky seemed to know of the horror that had taken place. The clouds blocked out the sun, throwing the lands into a pale red light. He willed his feet to move, placing one shaky foot after the other, hobbling across the carnage. His hands shaking uncontrollably.
The glowing white sands that once blanketed the valley was now stained deep crimson with the blood of his brethren. The tree barks were replaced by the protruding wooden splinters. The tranquility of life and vitality that the kingdom once had was replaced by the chaos of the motionless. Bodies of his comrades lay strewn on the battlefield like paper dolls, carelessly thrown onto the ground by a child.
He managed to stumble for a few feet more before he could go no further. He knelt to the damp earth and cried for the once silent lands because they were now screaming in an agony that reverberated through his own soul.
But as he let his fingers sink into the red soil, he watched as the wind blew over the ground, carrying a new layer of dirt. The white soil sifted silently across the cracked and tormented land, masking the blemishes with a light layer of earth. He got up to his feet, blinking away tears and nodded silently to himself. Time changes everything.