Kingdom of Ash

toward that space by the gate.
The battering ram was in splinters.
Valg lay piled several deep around it.
Before the gate. Around the wyvern.
So many that access to the western gate
was cut off. So many that the gate was secure,
a gaping wound now staunched.
How long had he stood there, unable to
move? Stood there, unable to do anything
while his father did this?
It was the golden hair he spotted first.
Before the mound of Valg he’d piled high.
The gate he’d shut for them. The city he’d
secured.
A terrible, rushing sort of stillness took
over Aedion’s body.
He stopped hearing the battle. Stopped
seeing the fighting around him, above him.
Stopped seeing everything but the fallen
warrior, who gazed toward the darkening sky