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Another chronicle of a young warrior's story.
"Take it and run! They say that the one who wields the sword and who is not the owner shall perish. Go, hurry to the mountain! Thee should be safe there." said the dragon in a speedy voice, pointing towards a high mountain that peered over the tree tops.

Without a word, Yoozepode was off, the sword tucked in his belt, running speedily towards the mountain.

What Yoozepode didn't know, was that he was being watched, and followed. In a few hours, Yoozepode reached the Mountain of Spitting Flames. There was a cave entrance, so he entered.

There were mounts on the wall, where lit torches lay. Yoozepode guided himself through the dimly lit place and followed some sense form within himself. This sense was the sense of something powerful, and godly. He followed the sense until he reached a bigger room in the cavern. Blinding sunlight poured in form somewhere above.

There was a huge rock, a boulder maybe, that seemed to draw Yoozepode in. He studied the rock, and noticed some script in an ancient language. Yoozepode understood perfectly as he read. It was a name of someone or something of great inportance.

Yoozepode read the words aloud: "Valux"

"Valux?" Yoozepode asked himself.

And then the sunlight allowed Yoozepode to see a black beast's claw digging its way through the rock.





 
 
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