When I was a child, 'The Sword In The Stone' used to be one of my favorite 'non-religious' books that I would read over and over again until the book practically crumbled in my hands. I had found a well-worn copy of it on the other side of the walls one morning, and I just had to go out and pick it up.
Of course, I had been beaten for venturing outside the compound, but I had found a treasure, and I wasn't about to let it go for anything.
To me, the story of King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table was nothing short of magical. It was like King David from the Bible, but different.
I remembered dreaming of finding a sword in a stone and pulling it out. It was the start of my very own adventure to find the one world that I could really belong to. Of course, in my version of it, I was King Arthur, and Guinevere was nowhere to be seen.
