A Short Story

January 5, 2012
By shoopdawoop BRONZE, Waterboro, Maine
shoopdawoop BRONZE, Waterboro, Maine
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

There was a valley, covered in snow, made home by animals, friendly and scary. Forests to the north, south, east. To the west there is a formation of stones with an ambient glow, told in stories written by the ancients. A hero, or Messiah, will appear on the Earth with the strength compared to that of the wrath of God.
Three hundred years later humans made a pilgrimage to this location, creating a village and where a baby boy was born. Until the age of five he never left his mother’s side, helping her in the inn while his father was gone fighting for months at a time. He made plenty of friends, and equally as many enemies.
As he got older his hair got thicker, and darker. He was six feet tall when he was thirteen. The morning after his dad came home he went up to his son and told him that he should start getting stronger, the boy did not want to do this but his father brought him to the barracks under the town hall. Laying there was six homemade weights and a metal bar. He started lifting them, starting easy and getting to the heaviest. By the age of seventeen he was as strong as his father, and stronger than some of the soldiers in the army. Sometimes, when he was alone he would take a sword from the basement and practice using it, swinging at a dummy in the corner. He never told his father that he was interested in joining the army, and he would be eighteenth soon, the age you are able to join the army.

The day after his eighteenth birthday he told his father that he wanted to join him in the army, which he agreed to under a lot of pressure, since he knew he would have to watch over him. So they went to the forge and they asked the worker to make him a steel sword and paid him. Then he got to go with his father and practice with his new sword in the valley, hunting for deer and goat. “You’re a natural.” His father told him, he was ready, and excited to go and join the army. A week later he went with his father to the fort located nearby. When they got in they went to the person in charge and asked him about joining. He was asked to show how strong he was to the captain. On the first swing of his sword he disarmed the captain, who was instantly impressed.

Two months ago the a new soldier came wanting to join, now he was a leader of a small group of highly trusted and skilled soldiers. They took over a enemy occupied fort, and defended a few cities that were in danger by the rebellion.

His parents never gave him a name, he was called many names and nicknames by people. Some called him leader, some even called him hero. He never knew his true destiny, but the gods did, watching down on him throughout his life. He never had time for relationships, until he met someone in his hometown that he knew since he was a kid but wasn’t really friends, until now.

The continent, even the world has never been as peaceful as it is now, and for another two hundred years after the hero’s death. In the midst of this time a new enemy rises to faces the Empire, one that is feared by everyone. Only one individual can save them.

The author's comments:
this is a work in progress. also my first story to submit.

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