Unnamed Fantasy Story Beginning (3)

            "That’s all I’ll ever be. A slave," Sean grumbled, kicking a loose stone as he passed through the gates. Sean began to think back to the night he had been caught, nearly eight long years ago, but stopped himself. Sean knew better than to bring on the nostalgia, because the last time he sat down and thought about his old life he nearly tried to commit suicide. He shuddered to think he had been quivering under the master’s watchful eye for so long, nearly a decade now. Unfortunately, there was no end to Sean’s servitude in sight.

              As Sean trudged out of the main gates to Lord Renwalt’s fortress, he once again surveyed the beautiful coastland he called home. The view from the hill which the fortress sat upon was staggering and brought Sean out of his moodiness. The golden morning sunlight glinted on the deep, blue seawater of the bay and on the puddles left behind from the rain of the day before. A cool, salty ocean breeze gently lifted Sean's short dark hair out of his face. Everything was lush and green, and a small sliver of silver beach was visible behind the large cliff that dropped off into the bay. The morning air was warm and soothing, carrying the sounds and smells of the village with it. The little town was clearly busy and bustling with activity, as it always was on Fridays. The market had just opened, and the heavenly smell of baking breads, roasting meats and steaming pies intertwined beautifully with the sounds of the clinking coins, street musicians playing, and the church bell that signified mass was starting. The stunning morning delighted Sean's senses and reeled him in like he would the fish for the master’s dinner. Now in a very cheerful state of mind, Sean walked and whistled a little toon as he made his way down the path to the village.

The End

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