Fiction

The boy's sword that was crafted by mage Merlin

A boy determined to be savior of the word. Forgot to tread with caution and thought his way was the right way. See his epic journey and......

Jun 8, 2024  |   4 min read

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sowalahin
The boy's sword that was crafted by mage Merlin
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Once upon a time, in a quaint village nestled amidst rolling hills and whispering forests, there lived a young boy named Eldric. Eldric was no ordinary lad; he possessed an unwavering determination and an unyielding spirit. His days were filled with sweat-soaked labor, tilling the fields and hauling logs. Yet, his heart harbored dreams far grander than the humble soil he toiled.

The villagers spoke of a mystical sword, Excalibur, said to be lodged within an ancient rock atop the highest hill. Legends whispered that only a true hero - one whose heart bore courage and purity - could free the blade from its stony prison. Eldric, fueled by ambition and a longing for greatness, set his sights on this very quest.

With each sunrise, Eldric climbed the hill, his calloused hands gripping the rough edges of the rock. He strained, muscles taut, sweat dripping down his brow, but the sword remained steadfast. Days turned into weeks, and still, Excalibur resisted. Eldric's resolve wavered, yet he pressed on, fueled by the whispers of destiny.

One fateful dawn, as the sun painted the sky in hues of gold, Eldric felt a peculiar warmth emanating from the rock. His fingers trembled as he grasped the hilt of Excalibur. With a mighty heave, he pulled - the sword slid free, its blade shimmering like moonlight on water. Eldric's heart swelled; he was no longer a mere farm boy but a hero destined for greatness.

Yet, fate had more in store for him. As Eldric descended the hill, he stumbled upon a forlorn sheep - a creature unlike any other. Its wool was as white as snow, and its eyes held a melancholic wisdom. Eldric, ever compassionate, leaned down and kissed the sheep's forehead. To his astonishment, the woolly form melted away, revealing a radiant princess.

The princess, named
Aurelia, recounted her tale. An evil witch, Morgana, had cursed her, transforming her into a sheep. Only true love's kiss could break the enchantment. Eldric's heart swelled with newfound purpose - he would save Aurelia, even if it meant facing Morgana's wrath.

Their journey took them through treacherous forests, across raging rivers, and into the heart of darkness. Morgana's lair loomed - a twisted tower of black stone. Eldric drew Excalibur, ready to confront the malevolence that held Aurelia captive.

But fate, capricious as ever, had other plans. As Eldric raised his sword to strike down Morgana, a gust of wind heralded the arrival of the wizard Merlin. His eyes blazed with ancient knowledge, and his voice echoed like distant thunder.

"Enough!" Merlin's staff crackled with power. "Morgana is no villain. She is my beloved - a sorceress who sought redemption. Her curse upon Aurelia was born of love, not malice."

Eldric's heart wavered. Could he trust this enigmatic wizard? But before he could decide, Merlin lunged, his blade clashing with Excalibur. Sparks flew, and Eldric fought with all his might. Yet, Merlin was no ordinary wizard; he wielded magic older than time itself.

In a final clash, Merlin disarmed Eldric. "Love transcends all," he declared. "Even heroes must learn this truth."

And so, with a single stroke, Merlin ended Eldric's quest. The hero fell, Excalibur slipping from his grasp. Morgana wept, and Aurelia's curse lifted. The villagers, ignorant of the complexities, hailed Merlin as their savior.

And so, Merlin and Morgana lived together, their love undying. Eldric's name faded into legend, whispered by the wind. As for Aurelia, she ruled as queen, her heart forever marked by the boy who had kissed a sheep.

And thus, in the shadow of a twisted tale, the wizard and the witch found their happily ever after, while Eldric's heroism remained
etched in the annals of time - an echo of love, sacrifice, and the bittersweet dance of destiny. ????

In the quiet corners of that village, where the moonlight bathes the hills, they say that sometimes, just sometimes, you can hear the faintest sound of a sheep's bleat - a memory of a hero who dared to love.

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sowalahin

Jun 8, 2024

epic stupid

sss