A dagger. Small and dull, but its size does not compare to the damage that can be done. Oh yes, this is the key to my past, present, and future. Its handle; dark maple trickled with ebony musk, is whittled with intricate carvings. On the blade is a curse on my future in a tongue that I don't understand.
As I'm thinking about it I am also studying the dagger in my torn up hands; fiddling with it as a child would a new toy but with a whole different level of respect. I have come to the conclusion that I have no idea who wrote it or who gave it to me. Whoever it was I don't know how they know who or what I am. I have never told anyone, trusted anyone or had anyone to trust. Not even myself.....
I have more i just don't want to write it right now
be harsh ;~)
p.s this is not the prologue it is just the first 2 paragraphs on the 1st chapter
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