A zephyr breezed through the forest, gently caressing each tree like a lustful lover, rustling the leaves from their lazy afternoon slumber. The periodic sashaying of the foliage was in rhythmic tandem to the enthusiastic chirping and gurgling of the mynahs roosting within the greenery. At the edge of the woods ran the meandering Osiris, a river that separated the jungles of Artemia from the barren wastelands of Visgaard. it was not a very deep river, one of which a normal person could wade comfortably, at its deepest, through to the other side. However, as the progress was made from one bank to another, the vast difference in the conditions would startle even the most settled. Crystal clear the waters might be at the Artemian border, but the gradual contamination was a stark visual across the full thirty-odd metres of the water body. Swirls of debris formed mini maelstroms streaking into the depths of the murky waters at the equidistant. Furthering into the watery Visgaardi territory uncovered activated sludge with a heavy growth of visible organisms that resulted from vigorous aeration due the whirlpooling at the centre. The stench of death and decay reeked from these parts of the waters and the tell-tale signs were for all to see: rotting bloated fish floating along in the flow of the river; and featherless carcasses, believed to be stripped of their protective fluff by the venomous fumes steaming off the water surface, of mynahs that were brave enough to venture that far.
In truth, the mystery lay in the stupefying enigma of the disparity between the two scenarios co-existing with such chilling harmony.
The calm Osiris atmosphere was suddenly disturbed by a cacophony of screeches as the mynahs took flight with such haste that it seemed like a swarm of locusts raiding a maize field. The vermillion orb of radiance in the mid-day sky became partially shrouded in the scattered flock movement. Seven mares thundered across the river and started up the banks of Artemia. The ebony-furred bodies of the beasts-of-burden shone like polished obsidians as the blemish of the water-coating diffused the light rays. Muscles rippled as the hoofed legs strained to bring both riders and equines up the grassy edge.
Now the forest fell deadly silent, as though all the insects and animals were fore-warned about the impending evil. Reining the animals in, the horsemen stared beyond the dirt path made shady by the canopy, eyes burning bright orange from the sockets of their skeletal frames. Their bodies were bulked and built like burly warriors, totally mismatching with skulls as heads. The dull-gray drapery, with strange insignias, that hung tightly against them were tattered and lacerated with gaping tears, stretched to the limit of the fabric. Through these porous exits bubbled caustic decomposing flesh as the revolting semi-liquid dribbled down the sides of the cadaverous bodies onto the grass below, desecrating the very sanctity of the greenery. The nauseating pungent odour reeked even sharper than the Osiris, piercing the air with its malignancy.
"Zol'Nirs!", a hushed hiss escaped the slightly parted lips of the entrenched militant leader, the grip on his scimitar tightened with partial fear and partial adrenalin-rush.
His legion awaited his command with abated breaths.
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