

A Memory of the ChroniclesStrum stood at the edge of a small clearing, the sun shining through the treetops. Birds were chirping in the thickets, leaves rustled through the winds howls. His cloak whipped behind him, an ominous feeling was in the air. Show yourself His voice was low, almost lost in the howls. Suddenly the world seemed to fall silent, the wind stopped, the birds fell silent, and the light was hidden behind a cloud. Subconsciously his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, the pommel still glowing in the gloom. Looking around slowly he squinted his eyeA Memory of the Chronicles
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