Timor stood at the edge of the balustrade, watching over the spectacle below. His arms trembling from fingertips up to his elbows. It wasn’t out of his own volition that he was present at one of the most violent scenes his fearful mind couldn’t have imagined. Even his worst nightmares paled in comparison to the dread that he currently experienced. It would be an understatement to say that Timor would like to be anywhere but here right now.

“Come on, Timor!” said a high pitched voice originating from a translucent blue whimsical creature that perched itself on his shoulder. “It’s now or never.”

The creature didn’t seem too bothered by the brutal onslaught in front of them. It was more preoccupied by Timor’s supposed destiny and whatnot. Never bothered asking what Timor’s input was on that destiny. If it was up to Timor, destiny could kindly fuck off and he would be having a nice cup of tea with a biscuit, somewhere in a tranquil, quiet and most of all peaceful forest, far from the nearest human congregation. Alas, Timor was born with generational magical powers that played a key part in some prophecy that fate had in tow for the kingdom he was – without his consent – birthed in. Thus his job was to cease all fighting below, or his homeland was doomed. He didn’t exactly know all the ins and outs of this war. All he knew was that some far away place dropped off an army on the doorstep through a series of magical portals. The king had mustered an army of his own and currently they were stuck in a stalemate of sorts, but since the villains of the story could decide to reinforce their army at any point in time of their choosing, it was up to Timor to tip the scales.

“I know you can do it, Timor.” the apparition whispered in his ear.

“I don’t.” Timor replied. “I wouldn’t be too opposed to just have this play out and take my chances with a new overlord."

”Don’t be daft you idiot!” The voice suddenly taking on a more aggressive tone.

“Fine!” Timor said as he let out a deep breath.

Timor let go of the timber in front of him and took a few deep breaths to calm his fear and focus his mind. I just have to do this and then I can be back home by supper, he thought.

He raised his arms up high and started to chant a whole string of words that he had memorized under the tutelage of some old man that he was introduced to as part of his training. Above the battlefield large tears started forming in the fabric of the atmosphere. Behind them an endless sea of dark red that cast an ominous glow down on the fighting masses. For those with sharp ears a distant rumble could be heard, for those with less sharp ears it took a few seconds to pick up on the increase in rumbling that now transformed in more of a heavy tremor that was inescapable. Maybe even the deaf could feel it. Through the crimson holes came down massive meteors, each the size of a tavern. With large tails of roaring fire they dropped on the armies below. Not a single living being stood a chance as they were devoured by rock and fire, leaving massive craters in their wake.

“Can I now get my cup of tea?” Timor asked, while dusting himself off.

The fairy just looked at him dumbfounded and did not respond.