The Golden Quest
The iron bit of the horse was in my teeth when the arrow struck the shield, and I knew then that the object in my satchel was no longer just a curiosity. It was a liability. The shield was made of elm and bound with brass, a sturdy thing that had protected my back for thirty years of wandering, but it could not stop the sheer, unyielding force of the world’s judgment. I am a scholar of the old...
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