The Golden Quest
The blade is dull. It sings a low, wet note against the bone. You feel the heat of the strike, the shudder in your wrist. The man does not scream. He only looks at you. His eyes are wide, white as milk, devoid of the fire that should burn there. You drop the sword. The clatter is too loud in the silent room. You are a soldier. This is what you are. You have been a soldier for a hundred years,...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews