The woods were naturally, eerily silent. . .except tonight. You could here the guards shouting, and horses trotting. The tension and anger the guards had for the thieves was electrifying the air. The fear of returning to their master without his precious property was almost a liquid, soaked into all of them. But the thieves could only taste all the delicacies they'll be able to afford when they fence what they stole. Yiltzild looked to his companions; holding up the treasure he smirks with cockiness. "Gentlemen, this will be the start of our empire" he says, making the other theives chuckle lightly. They all three watched as the whole guard unit searched for them on the ground. Not thinking to look up into the trees for the thieves they so furiously searched for.
YOU ARE READING
The Oldest Son
FantasyAs the oldest of three sons to a single peasant father. Galverend is faced with supporting his brothers and father. On the way however, he encounters a mystery about his family, that changes everything.
