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A short story I made

“With the swing of my sword I’ve brought down another weak enemy, one step closer to this vicious beast.”. The man brings his hand up to pinch the end of his nose, “I mean it’s an awful smell isn’t it?” The man releases his hand and takes a deep breath. “If my intelligence is any good, which, as everyone knows, is beyond the average person. I’ll have this beast within my grasp by the end of the night— The top of the mountain is where the nasty creature lay. I must start my ascent.” As the man strides around the body he begins to slow with every step, “I wonder if I should take this dead man's shoes before starting my trek. Seeing as I wonderfully bested him in a fair duel, he won’t be needing them anytime soon.” 

   Blood drips from the man's arm onto the shirt of the lifeless body. “Oh would you look at that, I got the man so good I got myself as well; How silly of me.” the man reaches into his back pouch grabbing a roll of bandage. This bandage is silky and has a certain sheen to it. “I’ll be back to normal in no time.” he wraps the bandage around his arm, wincing in the process and half haphazardly covering the cut on his upper arm. The man looks down again to see the shiny sword next to the dead man. The edge of the sword had a deep red pool of liquid on it, meeting the much larger pool of blood coming from the dead man. “Man and weapon together even in death, how poetic of me!”.

    The man leans down and reaches for the shoes, slipping them off revealing the dead man’s toes. “The sucker’s missing a toe! I could go as far as to say I bested a deformed changeling.” The man pulls out a small leather book, as he opens it the pages blow past with writing and little images on them. He stops flipping through the pages when he reaches a blank one and begins to write. “A mad, blood thirsty changeling gunning for my head! I, Ethan of the Isle manage, with no struggle, to bout the creature and end its hungry search for blood.” He begins to sketch a small creature with sharp, lengthy teeth and furious angular eyes. He writes in quotation next to the creature's head “bloodthirsty and bested!”, he snaps the leather book closed and stuffs it back into his clothes. 

  He switches the pair of shoes, almost falling over in the process and then continues his way up the mountain. As he struts pridefully up the narrow path he spots a small green creature. It's no bigger than a horse shoe and has a mushroom top for a head. Green spots of moss poke out around its slim little body. It has two big eyes and a tiny narrow slit for a mouth. The creature stops in its tracks surveying the man. The creature looks up at the man and gives a big smile, its eye glinting and squished to make space for its engulfing smile. The man flinches, he blinks a few times and then begins to slowly slide his feet forward. The creature notices and watches as the man fails to slip away from it. The creature lowers its smile and jumps up, when it lands back down its feet begin to move. The creature runs toward the man, making him scream. The sound of a little girl that's just been terrified leaves the man's mouth stopping the creature from continuing toward the man. The creature's head tilts in confusion, what a strange noise to come from a man; the creature had never seen this before and wondered if the man was safe to approach. After a second the creature shakes its head and runs off into a crack in the mountain. Just small enough for it to squeeze through and allow escape from the strange man. “Aha! Yes! Run along you little skoot. I am no match for you!” The man stomped in triumph, his cheeks raised for a smile and the man kicked up and continued to trot up the mountain.

     “I could claim victory now, for this beast has no chance of winning against me. For I am the end of everyone’s triumph, I lead myself to victory against the wildest of beasts. A simple dragon could not even dare to look at me, for it would turn over and beg for mercy just there on the spot!” The man sang loud and proud for the whole mountain to hear. He had been so proud of himself he didn’t realize his flask of water had fallen many paces back. 

   The sun scorched befalling a trudge to any creature, even ones blessed with ample shade. The man started to wonder if a water break was needed, for his skin had seeped out more water from his body than his mouth had taken in for the day. The man reached his hand to his left hip for his flask. As his hand slapped into his hip he thought himself strong, for the might of his strength caused him to miscalculate the power needed to reach for his flask. His head bowed to witness his flask in face but as he looked down to see the flask was not on his body, he gulped. The man moved his hands, slapping different parts of his body searching for the container of sweet relief. To his dissatisfaction, the flask was nowhere to be found. Not on his body nor on the ground. He turned his body around to search the area, swiftly beaming his eyes up and down, left and right, but alas his flask was gone. 

  The man looked up at the cave to see the entrance was just up ahead, all he had to do was ascend a little further and turn the corner. This allowed the man to forget all about his forgotten flask and stride quickly for the entrance of the cave. He finally reaches the entrance and spots the dragon. He takes a big step and begins to speak, “I…. you scaly beast, I am known as Ethan of the isle! The most courageous swordsman of the village! Of course, there's no real need for an introduction, as I'm sure you’ve heard of me and my wondrous accomplishments!” Ethan stands tall and confident with his chin held high and eyes closed in pride. The dragon squints its eyes in confusion, realizing who she is met with, she lets out a loud hearty laugh. “You! Ethan of the isle? I’ve heard about you and your quest to best me. I thought I’d be brought a challenge— but you? Is this really it?” the dragon lets out another hearty laugh filling the cave with an echo of noise. Rumbling in Ethan’s ears the sound of laughter overlaps and does a number to Ethan’s ego. He now stands with bent knees, slouched shoulders and an open mouth of perplexity. “You are to cower before me, you are to be unhinged with fright. For I, Ethan of the Isle am to end your life.” He stands with a large smile and pointed toes. The dragon looks down “you are nothing to be afraid of, you are merely a puppy full of pride. Your words bounce off my cave walls with ease, for only the truth sticks.” The dragon turns her body letting her scaly tail slide across the cave floor, sweeping the ground where Ethan stands, he is now flat on his back. He lets out a groan and stands once more. “Ethan will not let a vicious beast like you sit idly by, for your life will be my biggest triumph!” He stomps his foot and stares at the beast. She turns again, her tail leaving Ethan on the ground just as easily as before. “Enough of this foul play! I will end you right here! Right now!” I will end yo—” before Ethan could fully stand back up his head was met with the dragon's teeth. One swift bite and Ethan of the Isle was no more. For pride can be blinding and in this case dangerous.

[be--e]

A short story I made

  “Mea!!” I watch as the little girl calls for her sister, “Lily! I have a gift for you!” the other little girl screams in excitement. I watch as she passes her sister a flower. “I picked this out just for you Mea!” she says with strive, proud that she's done a sweet act of kindness for her sister. Mea grabs the flower with joy; they interlink fingers as the old apothecary calls out for them. I close my eyes, I hear the running of the river water, the laughter of the children, the singing of the song birds, and the calling of the old apothecary for the children to gather around. The children laugh and play, sometimes they’re taught to learn the ways of the forest. The grass is a rich shade of green and the air is crisp and addicting to breathe. The animals can sing and run without worry. The plants grow without fear and the flowers bloom as big as they can. The wood surrounding us is rich and sturdy.  The trees span out for miles and miles, hiding the truth of the geography around us. Goosebumps rise from my skin bringing me back to the children . “Come on little ones this is your favorite part of the year! Gather around and sit quietly, Mr. Haves is waiting for you.”. The forest is dense with trees the size of mountains. Yew trees are what the apothecary calls them. They tower over the creatures of the forest and allow for protection against the radiant sun. The rays still peak through to give a subtle kiss of day. These trees feel like they’ve been here since the beginning of time, but the old apothecary would say otherwise. He tells the children the same story every year; Only once a year, never more, never less. He feels as though the truth of the forest should be known to all, especially to the young so they believe in the dangers of the world and know how protected they truly are.

   I walk behind them making sure everyone is sat and ready to listen. As they all squirm with anticipation I take my seat amongst them. The sun leaks through the tree leaves and warms my skin. A hello from the sun to remind me I could be outside the forest. A shiver of fear runs through my body. It’s funny to think the children aren’t fully aware of how much impact just a ray of sun could have on those who truly know the history of these lands. I take a deep breath and remember where I am. I open my hands and let my palms greet the silky grass. The corner of my lips rise as a smile meets my face. I look over to see the old apothecary glancing at me. My smile vanishes and a distaste for the day arises in my head. This story brings me great despair but I listen every time. The old apothecary takes a deep breath sharing a look of sorrow with me. He turns to the children making sure they are all ready. He clears his throat. Just like the children, I sit and wait for my ignorance to be crushed and let the old apothecary begin the devastating story. 

“Long ago there was once a man and a woman who lived in a house just next to a small river bank. This river bank shared land with 5 little trees and a tiny patch of grass. This man and woman loved each other very much. They would do everything together. The man would care for the woman and the woman would care for the man. They drank water from the river and protected it with their lives. This river was special. It was one of a kind just like you all. You see, the river was surrounded by flat land, the kind of land that is dry and uncomfortable to sit on. Land that wasn’t shaded by the yew trees. This land was trapped by the sun and made even the simplest of tasks very hard to do.” the old apothecary shuffled in his seat. His eyes grew wide as the story went on. Only he and I knew what the next part was. 

   “Now, this land has creatures in it, just like the creatures you see in the forest but these creatures are a little different. These creatures weren’t the friendliest– they only knew of how to survive on the harsh land that encompassed the world. They didn’t know how to love or how to care like the man and woman did. One day the man and woman went to the river as they did everyday and dipped their drinking cups into the water. As they did, they noticed a growing figure coming in their direction. This figure wasn’t here for a drink or any kind gesture. As the figure came in closer the two realized this was a desert troll. These creatures live in sand caves under big boulders that sit in the barren land underneath the sun. A towering figure looming over the man and woman. They can be demanding and unkind. This troll was one that came to the man and woman time and time again. Seeking life where they lay their heads at night. Although the house he sought was much too small for him, the troll did not care and wished only to claim the house as his own. Of course, the man and woman did their very best to tell the troll no. The troll knew not to listen and came today with a different approach.” the apothecary shifted once again, his eyes met mine and I gestured to him to take a deep breath. “It is ok.” I mouthed those words as my skin crawled with discomfort. My body knew these words were a lie, because as he went on my stomach turned and breathing got just a tad bit harder to do. 

  “The troll stepped forward and without speaking a word he took his hand and reached down for the woman. His hands were scratched and rough and not at all gentle. He picked up the woman. He demanded she listen and hand over her home. “This house is mine and I will take it for my own!” the troll roars in anger. The woman begins to panic realizing what kind of situation she's in. She- she begins to scream for help. The man runs into the house and grabs bottles from bottom shelves in his home. These bottles were only used in emergencies and always a last resort. He runs back out and is hesitant. Would he hit the love of his life? He knew he had to be careful. He knew he had to try. With the thrust of his arm and a swift movement of his wrist the first bottle was thrown. The bottle travels through the air and hits the troll right in the eye. The troll stumbles and loosens his grip on the woman. This allows her to break free and fall from his grip. She hits the ground with a great thud. The man ran to her side realizing her ankle was now broken.” the old apothecary strained to speak. He knew this part of the story wouldn’t come easy. 

  “The man took the woman into his grasp and ran toward the house. They just make it to the door when the troll stomps the ground just next to them, causing the man to stumble. The woman struggles and she tries to crawl to the bottles that she knows would help. The troll stomps again. The man loses his balance, in return his legs give out and his hands meet the floor to catch his fall. The woman changes her path and makes her way to the back of the house. A fenced area.” the old apothecary takes a deep breath.

  “Behind the house was a triad of stone, these stones had markings on them, markings of protection. Th- the- the troll stomps his way to the woman. His mighty foot raised just above her. His foot swings breaking the house. The roof breaks into pieces and scatters through the air. The man runs in and grabs anything he can, tossing bottles just enough to get them out of the house but not enough to break. The woman begins to yell to the troll, she thinks distraction will aid the man. The man grew angry, wanting the woman to go completely unseen by the troll. She's something I can’t live without, leave her be. You can destroy my home and my river and even me but please leave her be. The man begins to panic, he can’t focus and his arms don’t know where to reach. A knot in his stomach grows bigger than he could ever imagine. He yells for the woman to stop and hide. The woman doesn’t listen. She yells as loud as she can. The man looks up to see the troll's foot swoop down onto the woman. He stops. 

  “Tears stream down his face, his eyes grow as wide as they can. His mouth opens, nothing comes out. He meant to call for her. His eyes darted from the point he was looking to see that the troll broke the stones. Cobblestone in bits on the soft grass. The woman of his life, dead,  amongst them. The troll lifts his foot and begins to stride away. “The house is broken, I no longer want it.”. “You come back you foul beast! You Killed her! You come back right now!” the man screams, his legs unable to move. He watches as the troll strides away back out into the barren land.  “You killed her….” the man looks down at his hands. Guilt creeps up his neck and engulfs him. His head jerks. My love, he thinks, I can still save her. He scoops up different bottles from the ground and runs to her side. As she lay her head turned and askew. He begins to throw the bottles beside her, some he pours on top of her, some he tries to get her to drink. “You’re going to come back to me. You have to.” every bottle he can get his hands on he uses. Her body is drenched in potions. The ground around her begins to change. The grass grows and flowers sprout up from the soil. Her body fixes and looks as she did before. Tree roots begin to spring from the dirt and race out farther than the man can see. The man watches as trees lift up into view. The bark glows as the trees grow and the woman's body becomes covered with vines. Fields of grass show beyond the horizon that end with the growing of the yew trees. A barrier, a forest of protection. Flowers and bushes spring to life right before the man's eyes. 

  He looks down at the woman– She looks beautiful. She’s not breathing. The man looks around in every possible direction. He’s used every potion. Every bottle is empty.”. The old apothecary stands up. “It’s been 5 years since this has happened. The love of my life was taken from me and a forest was formed. To protect you all from the dangers that roam the world.” He looks at me, I shake my head, he wants me to say something. I can’t. 

  I rise from the ground and walk into the house. I pass a quaint kitchen and a lonely bed too big for just one man to lay in. I open a door on the back wall. As I step out my eyes are met with a body. A body covered in vines. She looks as though she's resting. Tired from a hard day's work. She looks so peaceful. After everything, she refuses to rot. Her body lay perfect in time. Who knew my mother could be so resilient.