Wizard on a Castle
Just a Taste
This is a taste of a story I am working on. A snippet of a scene that popped into my head as I was writing another chapter. Any comments?
A man stood on the high tower of the castle. His outstretched fingers aimed, as though reaching for the army that approached. He incanted a few words and energy coalesced between his palms forming a small blue ball of fire. It grew rapidly, until it was twice the size of the man's head. With a gesture, he turned his palms forward and the large flame zipped toward the army, growing like a snowball pushed down a hill. It rolled through the air building larger and larger. As it did, it's shape turned more cylindrical. Now as tall as three men high, and three times as long, it made gentle contact with the ground. It continued to roll and overtook the first wave of the army. Barrelling down the men in front of it, the cylinder acted like a fiery rolling pin, burning a path straight down the line, ending the men in it's way. As it travelled it's fire seemed to unroll over it's path. The strip of blue fire that remained was fifty feet wide and over a hundred feet long. Most of the men dead, the remainder of the wave broke and ran.