The Cruel Sun

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A tall, strong figure stood on the zenith of a mountain, overlooking the huge bowl created by the u-shaped mountain range. The setting sun basking the peaceful lake in a golden glow was a mesmerising sight that would lull the strongest man to sleep in moments when combined with the exotic melodies sung by the birds gathering at the lake.
The figure turned to face the sun, other thoughts clouding his face. He slowly raised his worn hand to point directly at the suns face. The sun stared back. Never blinking. Never wavering. "My name is Kaleith!" he yelled, bitterly. "There is no forgiveness for what you have done, you shall pay dearly. Mark my words! I will find your resting place."
The sun continued to set slowly, ignoring Kaleith. His rage intensified. Picking up his spear and filvesh, he continued his journey in the direction of the setting sun.

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