The sky was like a painting, portraying the end of the world. Dark red at the horizon, lightening to pink and orange, before it finally spread into a thick yellow that covered the rest of the sky. Smoke billowed through the air, sometimes pervasive enough that simply breathing would make a person gag and choke. It seemed that not a single blade of grass could still be standing. The ground was thick with mud, small rivers flowing through it, the same color as that horizon. The stench of death and dying hung in curtains, wafting around on the breeze, churning stomachs, causing nostrils to flare. Standing here, one no longer needed to imagine what hell must be like.
Cordia was picking her way through an endless sea of dead men's bodies, piled to her knees and higher. She looked into the eyes
