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Married to Becca Grey-Morris
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May 1, 2024 3:02:22 GMT -6
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The hallways of the castle were covered in shadows. The footsteps of Sir Gawain fell softly on the carpets; lights flickered around the corner, but no one was awake to see them. A magical spell fell on the people of Camelot, and none was awake but the Prince of Orkney.
It was the night before the storm. The unsung night before the morning where the light of the rising sun would gleam and spark on the armor of young knights riding out the gates in search of a quest. Fame. Glory. Victory.
Sir Gawain felt like he was carrying a weight. Not the weight of the armor of a sword - he was used to those. It was the kind of weight that comes from the inside. Knights reveled in the light; they fought the darkness. But not many of them knew how to deal with the in-between.
Rounding a corner, the young knight stopped. There was a circle of light ahead, through the doors of the castle's main hall. Stopping on the threshold, he looked.
The White Stag was sitting peacefully in the circle of light, thoughts and eyes lost in the faraway world of a book. It was a creature out of the legends of old, mysterious, majestic, graceful, and incredibly frustrating.
After watching the vision for a few minutes, Sir Gawain quietly retreated from the doorway.
He had a quest to do.
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