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Rated: 13+ · Non-fiction · Dark · #1801330
Osaris telling Matius a bedtime story
“Father before you go, please can tell me that story you was going to tell me?” His father freezes by the doorway, he then turns to look back at Matius’s beaming face. Sighing he walks towards the bed, resting on it. “Okay Matius I will tell you a story well... about a man. A man with bravery, vision and belief” Matius gets himself comfortable, moving in the bed.

“There once was a young man, a man of opportunity who’s vision was clear as day. He lived with a poor family barely living through their lives. Each passing day he felt hunger and strive, begging in the streets for food. Many passers by ignored his pleads; however those kind and pure hearted offered their help. At nights the young boy would cry to the gods in his sleep. Asking why he would be cursed this way, what had caused him to receive such judgement? His questions went unheard. He knew only one way to get change, to get salvation. In order to bring change, he had to make change himself. To become a great man, just like those erected in the greater realms of hell.

“With a sence of urgency he left his poor family travelling through the pouring rain in search for help, a chance for his name to be heard. For him and his family”.

“So what did he do?” Matius asks, tinged with interest. “After much walking he came across a traveller, wise and old. In words he spoke of one place where legends are held. In the libraries of heaven, where stories, secrets and weapons are held. He travelled to heaven headstrong. He arrived in heaven with many eyes watching him. He felt small, fearful and very lost. He collapsed onto the ground in frustration before a angel came before him. Seeing the boy nothing of a threat the angel guided the young boy to the sanctum of the library. He searched though the library for days on end, each book giving him nothing but disappointment. Just when he began to lose faith a book fell down from the shelve above, lying face down for him to see. He pressed his fingers against the page in intrest. “The alvara”, a carnivous vicious beast which dwells in the lands of the forgotten, hunting at night...

“With his target set and with rekindled hope he set off into the wildlands of hell”.

Matius turns towards his father, moving uncomfortably. “Dad... what are the wildlands?” turning towards his father in confustion. His father gives a smile, “Matius, the wildlands are a place where no feet tread, only the dammned and the forgotten rest there. It has relentless winds strong enough to peel the very flesh from your bones and creatures of the night who roam there”. “Anyway he made his way into the wildlands, step after difficult step. Cloaked and covered well in protection from the winds that blow and the creatures that bite. His feet became tired and torn but still he pressed on, heading towards his destiny. Ready to face the one thing that stood between his salvation.

“After several hours of restless walking he grew tired and waited for the sun to set and for the moon to rise. Tired the boy lit a fire for warmth, unaware of the danger it brought.

In the rocks high above the Alvara watches in intrest, it’s black soulless eyes fixed upon him, patiently waiting. The boy raises his head, hearing a scream in the wind. He shifts is gaze seeing his target in the rocks high above. It’s teeth bare dripping blood from a fresh kill. The young man watched the demon through the flickering flames of the fire, it’s eyes yearning for flesh. They both circle the firelight, waiting for a moment to strike. With it’s hunger the demon leaped high into the air, through the flames of the fire. With quick thinking the man gripped his weapon tight and launched it at the beast. His aim was true, thrusting it deep into the demon’s throat. With the demon finally put to rest the man carried the demon through the wild lands, through hell, through the streets where he was seen and finally through the corridors of the royal palace itself. Tired from exhaustion the man dropped it at his feet for all those to see. Their eyes fixed upon the carcase of the defeated beast. The ruler raised his eyes in respect to the young stranger. Before the palace halls burst into applause”.

“What happened then” Matius asks still. “What happened next? Please please tell me!” Osaris gives a chucle amuzed by Matius’s Enthusiasm. “Well my son after his ordeal he and his family became renown and the young man became a legacy. Over the next few days his name spread and a statue was made in his honour placed in the royal throne courtyard. However as time passed new legends were born and made and the old ones were soon forgotten”. Matius leans forward lazily, but what happened to him?” His father leans back uncomfortably, “Well he died of old age and his body was placed in one of the pillars in the palace hall so he would be remembered”. “Now Matiusit’s way past your bed time now, off to sleep. Just remember never forget the legends of the past and respect your elders”.





© Copyright 2011 Shane Williams (shaneisalive at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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