guardian of the old heroes

guardian of the old heros [39], a photo by laura zalenga on Flickr.

Every day she came down from the highest domains to the valley from upholstered with golden heather. In her blue and black robes of a priestess, she watched the peaceful windblown desolation that had once have seen men give fierce battle to unspeakable horrors. This valley was their graves, and she was their solitary guardian.
But now, new heresies came from lower lands, climbing the bare ridges and golden. Denying rumors that the legend was true.
In her heart she wondered, and if I were the only keeper of the empty moorland?
She looked around and the thought made ​​her smile.