The night had dragged over the moor, darkness poured in over the tired light of the sun as it cycled behind the horizon, the world seemed to draw in as the shroud covered the land. The moonlight world, a silver canopy of trees and fern bushes whispering silently in the wind, twisting green and brown shapes darkened in the twilight forming lattices and passages in the mire. The chatter and calls of massive beasts had ceased, leaving only the subtle croaking and chirping of the insects and frogs that crawled across the forest floor, waging tiny wars and calling out in the distance for love or war. But to everything it was noise that echoed softly,into the darkness. As the mighty herds of Triceratops had settled their scores, and the last Tyrannosaur took his meal, a shifting could be felt, like a deep rumble or a noise that is unheard but still felt. A rise of new life broke through the soil of the daytime creatures, and the kingdom of the night rose to greet their own dawn.
Creeping out of the caves and the out of the way dens, feathered faces greeted the moon. Small chirps rang out into the night, answered in kind from across the forest, a swarm of tiny flesh eaters came together. Their glowing eyes became a mob of lights moving through the green, they spread out in a group, small pieces breaking out like tiny arms reaching out and grabbing the nearest lizards and snakes. They tossed pieces over to the weakest and the injured, and the strongest ate full gorge from the wasted carcasses the daylight creatures had left. In the centre, a male with a full and red crest of long strand-like feathers and wings tipped with the longest talons snapped pieces from those that couldn’t hold on to their meat. He was the Night king, the teeth in the darkness and his many tiny mouths that followed and fed his rule, guiding them through to weed out the smallest specks of life stirring in his dark kingdom.
Their hunt ran uninterrupted, strange smells seemed to fill the air, the Night King shifted and fidgeted uncomfortably, a twinge of worry and doubt gnawed at his mind. They seemed to appear more frequently throughout the night as they circled their territory, the others felt it too, and as they advanced there was less and less prey to be had. Near the edge of his kingdom, the King of the Night put a name to the scent, a challenger had marked the King’s territory as his own.
Yellow eyes glinted in the moonlight that pierced through the canopy, footfalls quiet against the backdrop of noise, a horde of blinking lights moved through the distance like a hidden city. They marched slowly, creeping around sleeping horned giants as they created their path, flying reptiles snapped the insects from the rotting bodies of large beasts felled by massive hunters deep in slumber. the Night King called out to the others, and they took heed of the sound as they jostled for a view. Their caution quieted their snarls they fought amongst eachother, until they saw it.
A set of eyes met theirs in the glowing distance, and more appeared and faced them from across the forest. The silence was absolute, the air was still and unmoving, the noises of the swamp pulled back into the distance as their makers anticipated what was to come, jaws opened, feathers flared backwards in shocking colours like battle standards, waiting, for the push.
The first came from their side, it burst from the undergrowth and charged towards their enemies, savage instinct burst in their minds as the caution holding them back broke. Each crashed forward and became a tide of foul intent coursing over the landscape, as the distance closed, time seemed to slow. Every movement became significant, every sound heightened. The shapes and feathers of their foes visible in the glow of their eyes as they met. In seconds, they could see the whites of their teeth and the sharpness of their claws, a split second of crucial information thrown into their minds their enemies size and strength became quickly apparent, as the footfalls counted down.
Bodies smashed together and claws rended, bloody feathers scattered into the undergrowth as they were torn from their owners. Screechs and howls coloured the air and cut through the chaos and sound of rending and crushing. The dead stayed where they lay, and in seconds, the battle had been decided.
The intruders stood bloody, beaten and worn, their leaders arm hung limply at his side. Staring straight ahead and attempted a feeble threat display with his other arm. It had fallen on deaf ears, the defenders advanced slowly, claws were raised and ready, their message was clear.
Another sound had broken the silence, it reverberated throughout the landscape and through their feet, soft but audible. The pebbles and sticks on the ground quivered, the advance of the Night King and his Defenders halted, and their eyes searched the treeline for what they feared was coming. Knowing they had been defeated, the intruders broke off into the vegetation, escaping with the only thing that really mattered, their lives. As the heraldic drumbeat emboldened itself and rose for it’s owner. Groggy, tired, and impatient, the newly reborn sun beat its first layers of light through the undergrowth. Illuminated the talons and coat of a predator that stared blankly down at the lowly nightbeasts below him. His eyes half open, but jaws ready and waiting, the King of the Dawn roared, the light behind unveiled the mountains encircling them that scratched the sky in the distance, the master of the dawn stood between the peaks, as the first of the great herds rose clambered awake in answer. The Night’s King retreated, his head low against the ground, their eyes fixated on each other, each awaiting what was theirs. The Night’s King retreated into his den, and waited.
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