Crimson Ingot

Darkness covered the clearing of dried blood and dust. If not for a tiny, insignificant glow emanating from an object lodged in the trunk of a tree at the edge of the apparent battlefield, this cloudy night could have been mistaken for the void. The object was a deep purple in color and narrow in shape, resembling a dagger blade or a spearhead. The exposed half, not obscured by the ever growing wood, appeared to be about three inches long and one and a half inches in width. The tree itself was larger than its kin and didn't seem at all affected by the object. A cool breeze rustled the branches and stirred its leaves, but that same wind is also what revealed its doom. Just for a moment, the clouds parted slightly to cast a sliver of moonlight on the bark. As the wind blew past a single word followed, as if muttered in a deep sleep.

"Affliction..."

With that, a resounding SNAP echoed off the trees as a crack appeared in the wood and the clouds once again covered the silver light cast by the moon.