The Chosen
Pushing open the back door to his stall, I gazed at the array of weapons that lay on the tables.
Swords, bows, arrows and axes littered the tables. "When did you have time for this?" I whispered.
Father surely hadn't done all of these in one day. As I gazed at the array of weapons, one weapon caught my eye. It was a silver sword. At the base of the handle was a purple gemstone. Gently grasping it, I felt the weight shift in my hand. Swords weren't my cup of tea. To me, they were heavy and left you open, but I still loved the way this sword looked.
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