The market square buzzed with life, the air thick with the aroma of spices and roasted meats.
Zayn maneuvered through the bustling crowd, his basket balanced on one shoulder. As he arranged his wares on a wooden stall, he noticed a storyteller gathering a crowd near the fountain. Intrigued, Zayn edged closer.
The storyteller was an old man with a booming voice. âAnd so, King Kaelion drew his sword, the emerald light casting shadows on the castle walls. âFace me, demon!â he roared, and with a single strike, he banished the creature to the void.â
The crowd erupted in cheers, and Zayn felt his chest swell with admiration. He could almost see the king, his golden armor gleaming, his cape billowing in the wind. It wasnât just Kaelionâs strength that Zayn admiredâit was his journey. The king had once been a farmerâs son, as ordinary as Zayn himself.
Later that night, as Zayn lay on his cot staring at the thatched ceiling, he whispered, âIf Kaelion could do it, so can I!
Watch out for the next chapter!
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About the Creator
RobđŚ
Passionate storyteller and social impact advocate, I write to inspire change and share insights on education, sustainable development, and creative innovations.
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Stalled System
With my eyes closed I ran our plan through my mind in the last moments before 22:00, when the next wave of service trucks en route to the facility, like a fleet of mindless ants, would pass our location. We stood silently along the edge of the drainage tunnel, murky water below trickling away from the facility, awaiting the signal from Mokaâs flashlight that the trucks were on schedule. Bronum was positioned at the top of the access ladder, ready to pop the manhole cover for Pokia, the surest of all of us with securing a hook to the bottom of the trucks. In the worst case, if no one else could manage to secure a hook, when then our activity would positively be picked up by the roadâs monitoring cameras, we could hope that Pokia would breach the facility.
By Adam Pallett4 days ago in Fiction
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