Por @latino.romano

Sus ojos no se desviaban de su objetivo. El horizonte se mantenía oculto detrás de la espesa madera que llevaba años sin moverse de su lugar.

Sus ropas largas y coloridas concordaban bien con su rango, su escudo y su espada eran testigos silenciosos de muchas batallas ganadas. De retos logrados y misiones exitosas para sus señores.

La soledad era buena compañera en el recinto de entrada. Las paredes de piedra, adornadas por grabados de signos raros que representaban narraciones históricas, infundían un temor pasivo en los corazones de los visitantes. Sin embargo nadie había posado sus ojos sobre ellas en muchos años.

El Sol colaba su luz por pequeños espacios entre las grietas de aquella montaña. Nada de sombras tenebrosas se percibían por ninguno de los pasillos. Todo tenía un aire de pureza y frescura, como si esperaran que alguien importante visitara. Pero nadie anunciaba su llegada nunca.

El guardián se apostaba a diario frente al recinto, con su espada enfundada y su ataviado traje, vigilando cuidadosamente la puerta de madera. Protegiendo los más preciados tesoros de aquel lugar secreto. Cumpliendo la promesa hecha a su señor de no permitir que pie profano alguno pisara los engastes de oro, ni mano impura tocara los grabados de las paredes.

Los años pasaban irremediablemente, sus señores ya no estaban vivos para contemplar su fidelidad, pero él se mantenía firme e inamovible en su puesto de guardia, honrando sus promesas de guerras pasadas.


 

Esta invitación es solo para 100 personas, no pierdas la tuya: https://discord.gg/jCS6kZ4


 

By @latino.romano

His eyes did not deviate from their target. The horizon remained hidden behind the thick wood that had not moved from its place for years.

His long, colorful robes matched his rank well, his shield and sword were silent witnesses to many battles won. Of challenges accomplished and missions successful for their lords.

Loneliness was a good companion in the entrance hall. The stone walls, adorned with engravings of rare signs representing historical narratives, instilled a passive fear in the hearts of visitors. Yet no one had laid eyes on them for many years.

The Sun filtered its light through small spaces between the cracks of that mountain. No dark shadows could be seen in any of the corridors. Everything had an air of purity and freshness, as if they expected someone important to visit. But no one ever announced their arrival.

The guard was betting daily in front of the enclosure, with his sword sheathed and his attired suit, carefully guarding the wooden door. Protecting the most precious treasures of that secret place. Fulfilling the promise made to his lord not to allow any profane foot to tread on the gold settings, nor any unclean hand to touch the engravings on the walls.

Years passed irretrievably, his lords were no longer alive to behold his faithfulness, but he stood firm and immovable in his guardhouse, honoring his promises of past wars.


 

 

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