Most curiously, as an infant, he never cried. Possessed some said.
“Child, you are my gift to the shire.”
Anointed in the seven holy oils. A vessel for divine retribution.
“An everlasting vigil you shall keep against evil.”
And not a fiend the Hero met, that he couldn’t slay.
“Yet, the purest of vileness festers in the hearts of evil men.”
His wrath in battle terrible beyond belief. His pride augmented with each sweep.
“Time for your atonement draws ever near.”
Tasked with banishing the diabolical witch. The Hero took the mantle with sick thrill.
Taking much too pleasure in the killing itself.
When he laid his eyes on her, all thought of bloodlust departed.
For how can a creature so radiant be anything but angelic?
Together, they ran off to lands secluded.
Without the Hero to keep it in check, the evil grew…. And in time, it came for…
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