I knew that whoever had done this to my village would come again. I knew that they would once again come for the stone they so desperately wanted, by this time I would be ready. At once an idea came to me, the sword of my ancestors. The sword was used millions of years ago by my ancestors and would soon help me. I ran to the heart of the village and saw, much to my joy, that while the village had been destroyed, the sword had remained untouched. There was a ledge die that a powerful bit of magic had been put on the sword to stop it from ever being damaged until it was returned to its rightful owner and my family had always believed it to be me. I reached into the box and grabbed the hilt of the sword, it felt smooth and cold to touch, and pulled it out of its box. Holding the sword just felt right. It felt like it was made for me. I tried a few practice swings, as I had never held a sword before, but it was like it came naturally to me. The perfect weight and size meant that I had complete control over the sword. I knew that with this, whoever was trying to steal the resurrection stone didn't stand a chance.
YOU ARE READING
The Stone
مغامرةThis is my short story for school. I figured that I might as well put it on this so enjoy. A girl had an ordinary life, until everything changes. She is sent a warning but ignores it and devastation follows. As she learns about the powers of the res...
