The Attack

It was over in seconds, but to the mothers cradling their children; singing them hushes lullabies as the great darkness poured over their heads, it was an eternity.   It was over in seconds, but to the Court Magi standing in wait to fight an enemy they couldn't see, it was far too long.   It was over in seconds, but as the walls rumbled and a great purple streak of light burst through the distant fog, time slowed to a standstill. The Magi raised their arms to the sky, casting a shimmer of the same purple light over the palace -- the monarchy was defeated but the civilians taking shelter inside could still be saved. The bolt hit their shield and split into a thousand prongs, zig-zagging their way across the surface of the shield like a spiderweb of cracks that gave way and shattered. Too late, the Magi realised what was happening: their own shield falling down in great shards of energy around them, piercing through their ranks before they had a moment to respond.   The Silver Army approached through the darkness, their armour shimmering in the broken light cast by their own power. At their head, the silk-clad Magi traitor. He lifted his hand, and the palace crumbled. The greenery withered and died. The ground grew barren and ashen. The great darkness closed around them and the light was no more.   The attack was over in seconds, but the shadow it cast was eternal.