[ IP ] Sword of The Fallen Warrior . Feel free not to use the name of the image .

`` Papa,'' Tera said quietly, pulling at her grandfather's tunic. Koel looked down at his granddaughter. `` Yes, Tera?'' She pointed over the tall grass to a thin shape sticking over the top. 
 `` What is that?'' Koel shaded his eyes, peering through the sun of the valley. He found the shape and tried hard to see, but his old eyes refused to give him clarity. 
 
 He patted Tera on the head. `` Stay here, love, try not to wander off. Why do n't you lay down the blanket and get the food out?'' She nodded, then sat down on the grass and went to work. 
 
 Koel moved closer and saw that it was a rusted sword, plunged into the ground. Koel grabbed the hilt and pulled it out. The part of the blade that was in the ground seemed as shiny as it must have been when it was forged. It was there that Koel saw its history. The chips, the stains. The dull edge. He thought back to his own youth; war, fighting, blood, ashes. He remembered the looks in their eyes, before his sword took it away. He heard the clash of metal and the screams of men. He teared up as he remembered the boy, almost as old as Tera, forced to defend what was left of his village. He did n't last long. 
 
 Koel took the sword, and giving it one last look, threw it into the river flowing near. He saw it sink to the bottom. 
 Tera grabbed his hand eagerly as he came back to where she was sitting. 
 
 `` What was it Papa?'' she asked, `` treasure?'' Koel teared up again as he saw her innocent face, unblemished by marks of any kind. 
 `` No,'' he said, `` it was a memory, and one I hope that you never have.''
