Blood on the Horizon
Gary's grip on the scope tightened until the knuckles whitened, the veins prominent like cords under the skin. His jaw clenched so tight that it seemed as if his teeth would shatter. The fleeting, smug smile that had lingered upon his lips—the one that bore quiet victory—faded. Seared away in a second, to be replaced by a tempest which raged behind his eyes, dark and unrelenting.
.Impossible," he breathed, the words almost inaudible, shaking though he tried to hold them firm. All of him cried out that the apparition before him was not possible, but the horizon did not lie. The air thickened, tense and charged, the weight of incredulity hanging in it. His low, throttled voice gave the ranks a shiver, quiet as it was, and the men about him stiffened under the pressure.
A nervous cough, near smothered by the quiet, introduced a voice—Edric, one of his generals, advancing with respectful hesitation. "My lord… what did you see?"
