Florence-Welch

  Flames swarmed over the countryside, ravaging the last of the kingdom recently dubbed a sovereign state. She spun madly, guiding the flames in arcs and waves of deep blue... the colour of death.   The symphony blared maddeningly in her chest, a great crescendo of drumming and roaring. She roared with it, an unintelligible battle cry that shuddered through the flames and echoed across the world. With a start, she halted. What had begun as a trickle of watchmen had grown into a massive army a hundred thousand men strong – all dead. Burned away by the demon flames to such an extent that even their armour could not be salvaged.   Blades