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Justin Miller


The stage of this plot is a battlefield. The sky is black; the wind is cold and damp. The ground is barren and stained from earlier battles.

Across the field creeps a two-headed beast. One face is scarred and dark; its tongue is forked, and its eyes are narrow. The opposing head is light and unmarred. Its voice is smooth, and its eyes are comforting.

Across this familiar plane, the beast’s formidable foe approached. He rode on a large warhorse. The steed was black as night and wore armor scared by many battles. The warrior atop the horse wore armor of the purest white. His person showed no scars, and his clothing was unstained.

He scanned the plane and spotted his foe, as he had so many times before. He drew his sword and charged the monster.

The beast anticipated the attack and planned his defense. The sword and the claw met, and the two were once again locked in their eternal fight. The outcome of the melee was unsure. The weapons were always the same. The rider fought with rage and passion while the beast employed logic and analysis.