50 Doors

I felt her warm living breath on the back of my neck as she lowered her head around my shoulder and placed the tip of her horn in my hand. When she pulled away, a perfectly crafted magical knife was left in my hand made from Unicorn horn by the magic and strength of a Unicorn horn. The handle was perfectly fitted to my hand and the blade perfectly balanced and sharper than any whetstone could have possibly achieved. I could not have known it then, but that kind of gift is not bestowed lightly by one of her kind. Another gift was soon to follow, one some would value as even more precious. One slice of the knife against the vine and she was free.

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