Nestled in the pages of a book, there was an empire that light wouldn’t reach, ruled by a warmongering empress, consumed by her thirst for revenge that had driven her to madness.

On her path war would occur and leave no prisoners or remains to cry on, didn't matter how many heroes tried their luck.

Her one woman army had a powerful weapon, crafted from burning ashes and ink.

In its wake, no warrior's knee was left unbent as the battlefield was swallowed in a deep and solemn silence, petrified at the pungent smell of ashes into which fire turns all it devours.

At its sight alone, no valiant heart would have ever stood a chance.