He wiped his mouth with the back of his hands and sighed a deep, heavy sigh of relief. He smiled at me and said, "That was a great fight. I have not been defeated in ages, although my age is catching up to me." The swordsman chuckled at his own joke. Then he raised his head and looked me in the eye, dead serious. "No ordinary knight can possibly be capable of defeating me, for despite my age, I am still fast and strong. Who are you?"
"My name is Shadow." I replied to the man, uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. "That’s all you need to know," I added.
The light returned to the man’s eyes. "You are right. That is not my business." He picked up the bow and handed it to me. It was made of a smooth, flexible wood. There were expertly carved engravings carved on it that gave it a hollow eerie beauty. The string was strung tightly and was made of a very strong yet flexible material. At the grip of the bow was a red shard with a crimson color identical to the jewel on my sword. "It was my father’s, and although it pains me to part with it, I have no son of my own to pass it on to. It is yours now," the man said. He handed me the quiver with eight steel-tipped arrows with delicate feathers on the ends. On the quiver there was also a stone similar to the one on the bow. It was obvious that they had been made together by the same person. I found a place to hook it to on the back of my armor, and gently placed the bow in there with the arrows.
"What is your name?" I asked the man who had gifted me such an exquisite set.
"Erebus," he answered. "Take care of the bow," he said. "And yourself," Erebus added.
I nodded. "I will," I replied, and began to exit the place. "Thank you, Erebus." I exited his store and walked towards the exit of the city on the opposite side of which I had entered it. On the way, I saw a board with papers pinned to it. On the top was one that caught my eye. "The Freedom Union offers five thousand gold to any man who can topple the corrupt throne of King Moros. Be warned, anyone who attempts this feat, for he is extremely dangerous. King Moros is said to be an excellent swordsman and rumored to possess magic. He resides in a dark castle in the forbidden lands. We bid anyone who challenges the black king good luck, for you will need it," the passage finished. Below was a square where I assumed was supposed to be a portrait of the man, but it was empty.
It seemed like a death wish to challenge this king, and it very likely was, for no man had ever fought King Moros and lived to tell the tale. I looked up into the skies and saw a sight that had been previously hidden by fog and clouds. A lone mountain stood in the distance. There was a black castle built on top of it, and even looking at it sent a chill down my spine, causing me to shudder. However, I felt a strange calling towards the forbidden soil. It was fate’s calling, beckoning for me to gamble my life on a perilous journey.
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