The Knight of a Squire

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is just a short with the aid of Patientzero helping me rewrite it. Please leave feedback, thanks!

Submitted: December 18, 2011

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Submitted: December 18, 2011

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The clash of swords howled across the plains.

The silhouette of a towering man soared between a young man and the sun, his face was a void of shadows, which seemed to scornfully refuse his identity to the lowly squire.

"Hold your tongue cur!" he snarled, "Bastards like you should not even be holding knives, let alone swords!"
He raised his blade towards his opponent, his muscular, tanned figure kissed by the suns glow, a sun which was now slowly retreating to the east.
And still the young squire could not catch a glimpse of the merciless shadow's face.

"Now come forth... nameless squire, or are you too occupied kissing the ground?" came the cutting remark through a smirk bathed in darkness.
The squire took to his feet, slowly, teeming with anticipation, his eyes ablaze with fury, itching for the inevitable battle.
With a firm hand he grasped at the handle of his short sword, and steadied his grip on his stalwart buckler.
He screamed fiercely as he sprinted towards the shadow of his adversary, closer and closer, faster and faster with each step he took.
The knight readied his long sword with powerful hands, pointing the sword defiantly, unshaken by the savage mannerisms presented to him.
With all his might, the squire leapt and slashed fiercely overhead, but his target maintained his poise, waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

The swords howled across the plains once again.


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