/lit/ - Literature

>>17974702
>After “light of her glow”

The light of her glow fell upon the middle of her own host, causing an explosion, killing her own minions and knocking us down — even the great iron ships were thrown back across the river. All was low. All was still.
As the smoke was clearing I got up with everyone to witness a pile of skink corpses piled up around what looked like an old woman. Everyone began surrounding the lady to witness what once was the youthful beauty, now turned into a wrinkly old hag — a dark crown-like helmet still on her small head.
‘The Crown of Ages!’ a dwarf says. ‘Gods grace us!’
Everyone clears as Baldovin shoves past to examine our mortal foe. He bends down placing a finger on her neck with one hand and a dagger sitting atop her chest with the other.
...
...
‘... Jezebel has perished!’ he elates; everyone throws up their arms and helmets in cheer as he drags out the helmet from her wrinkly, small head and shoots her heart three times for good measure. Dwarven war hounds broke free of their masters to feast upon her corpse, leaving nothing of the vile enemy to be buried. Baldovin stands atop a dead salamander, puts on the helmet as a trophy and raises his gun to the air. ‘They days is ours! The day is ours! The kobolds are no more!’
If I was his father I would’ve crowned him right then and there. If I was a woman I would’ve kissed him. If I was a child I would’ve worshiped the ground he walked on. He was everything a prince should be and I was blessed beyond the counting of my years to have been here today to witness his greatest triumph. I raise to shoot my musket with others, for today — and all eternity in the Crystillian Mountain — was truly ours and ours alone.
But as I look up at our dearest prince he feels a little... dizzy.