The world held its breath in that one morning. It waited for that first bloodthirsty scream. The world didn't have to wait long. The first call of war was declared on the people of the southern desert. It had been told that they used their sleek coated steeds to teardown a village on the edge of the plains.

Now a lone person stood on a hill top of patched grass, they looked down at what stood before them. On the southeastern horizon was a fuzzy line of sleek steeds charging under the red flags. In the west was great endless hoard of blue clad men. This would be a moment for history, the first desert blood to be spilled within a hundred years.

A deafening boom, then another, and another. The beat of a great war drum. The beat of death.

The blue clad men turned up the dust as the set forth. The red bannered chargers raced to them. Both groups eager for death. They shall have their wish.

The man on the hill turned and fled. He held news, very important news for very important people.

This war, this wonderful war it will hurt her royal pain in his ass. Savahna would whimper and shutter if she knew what her beloved cousin was doing. A light smile of amusement settled on the runners face as he covered the pains. Two days and Savahna the dark would cry as he happily announced that her presus cousin massacred hundreds of her parents sapphire solders.

What a pity SHE wasn't on the killing field. The runner wished she had been there, it would be devastating if he had reported to the high king that his black-clad-sadist daughter had been killed, a wonderful fantasy but sadly not this battle.

He would do his duty to the sapphire king and then slink off to the real lord of the world. His amusement bloomed into full out gladness. The one person who thought that no one would go agents him was about to find out what defeat tasted like.