| It had already become day as he opened the big wooden door and stepped out of the shadows.
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| The sun had shown behind the eastern forest, bright and warm in a cloudless sky.
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| As his eyes closed, he slowly raised his head.
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| Gently, the morning wind caressed his face and rustled through his long hair
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| The chatter of the birds had become one with the whispers of the black elders,
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| melding with the rhythmic babbling of the little brook, which wound its way to the distance behind the humble grange.
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| But it has not always been like that.
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| One thousand seven hundred years ago, during the celebration of the two moons,
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| the enemy forayed over powered the villagers under the cloak of darkness.
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| Brave men were cut down where they stood in the cold crisp autumn night.
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| The ones who still had life in their veins escaped in despair, but regathered
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| quickly and formed a resistance.
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| Many among them, women and children, only armed with axes, torches,
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| and pitchforks.
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| And it seemed as if all hope was forsaken… |