What i felt: This picture made me remember the movie Merlin. Somehow i felt like writing a story about black magic and the medieval times
Story
The silver light of the moon illuminated everywhere. The stars could be seen, twinkling in all its beauty. In the king's palace, lamps lit up each room, shadows dancing on the rough stone surface. The King's guards stood guard, parading each corner of the palace. Only the big black owl and the tiny bats could be heard on that quiet night.
Suddenly, the sounds of a carriage drawn by a horse could be heard in the distance. From mere shadows with noise, it drew closer to the archway of the king's palace.
The King's guard became alert, wondering what mystery the night had brought. Just at the gate, the carriage came to a halt as the guards waited to see who or what emanated from inside.
"Reveal yourself, strange visitor," a guard commanded, his arrow steady in his hands, waiting for the inevitable.
"For how long does the King's secret sorcerer have to introduce himself to you mortal men," a voice said from inside. After some minutes of grumbling, an old man with a white heard and beard poked his head out of the carriage. "Let me pass for I have urgent news for the king"
The guard frowned "Why to bring it this odd hour when the king rests"
"You ignorant fool. Let me pass before I cast a spell on you. Do you want the dark clouds to envelope this town while we squabble over nonsense? I need to see the King this moment" the old man barked.
With that, the guard let him through and led him into the palace in the king's court, where he waited for the King to be called. And in a few minutes, the king arrives at his court and sits on his Royal stool.
"To what do I owe this visit at this odd hour, eyes of the gods?"
"A message from our ancestors, my King." The old man said falling on his knees and face flat on the floor.
"Speak for I have no patience!" The King roared.
"My King a dark cloud gathers. Trouble arises from the east. The Shadow Lord is moving and quick to this territory. You must act fast before your stepbrother, the Shadow Lord, the forbidden holder of the black magic with his army of the dead gets his hands on...." The old man paused and looked up to the king. His gaze intense, his eyes without fear. He points to the throne ".. your throne" he added.
"And how do I believe you?" The King asked already jittery.
"Because he has stolen the first Sceptre of the gods from my coven and is coming for the second Sceptre which is in your hands', the old man explained. "And you know, according to tradition, he who has the first and second Sceptre should become King"
Immediately, the king rises in anger and rage. He paced around his throne for some seconds then he commanded
"I'd rather die than let him have possession of the second Sceptre." He growled. "Gather the council; we have a war to wage!"