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Too long have I yearned for happiness.
Once, I believed in what everyone said brought joy – Wealth. Strength. Power.
Then came the day when the three men killed my brother; and dad, instead of killing them, released them on being compensated with a treasure hoard.
Dad deserved to die, I was only the agent of justice.
The gold was now all mine. But people lusted after what I had.
So, I grew till I was the greatest of all. My armour and weapons were the finest. Now men could only covet my riches from afar.
I now had it all – Wealth. Strength. Power.
But where was happiness?
“Strange, the Dragon actually seemed happy when it died. Kind of…peaceful.” Sigurd told Regin, wiping off the blood from his sword, Gram.
“It must have grown bored of life.” Regin laughed.
“Dunno. Anyway, where did it keep this treasure?” Sigurd replied, more brightly.
- The Online Medieval and Classical Library
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