Myth Project

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Myth Story Rough Draft

The castle was a silhouette in the setting Truculentus Sun, its gold walls matching the liquid gold of the still fervent globe. In the castle, past the rattle of cooks, tailors and servants sat Vetus, king of the Truculentiens, savior of the people. His physical demeanor was contradictory to his power: While during his prime, he was a ruthless leader, obliterating all who were in his interest, today he sat in a pathetic heap. His ninety-nine year old body failed to support the weight of the gold he was wearing, his bald head was covered liver spots, which was still evident despite it being covered in a salty concoction that distantly resembled sweat. He coughed and fell to the floor.

In the castle grounds, a handsome, suave man pulled his long blond curls out of his metal laced helmet. His smile cried Irene, but his eyes betrayed Poseidon. Standing at six foot two inches, his voluminous muscles trembled as he shakily read the the scribbled writing on the scroll. The peace negotiations with the city state Sapientia had taken a toll on Old King Vetus’ once steel heart. As his son, he was to take over the entire kingdom. He got onto his horse and trotted to the the castle. As he thought of all the people that he was now in charge of and what they stood for, war and violence, he was reminded of how sick it all was, the blood, the heartlessness, the suffering. He was now a the supreme symbol of all that. Suddenly, his teeth ground and his forehead wrinkled as King Exspes struggled to control his anger. His feet pressed against his horse, and the rural landscape blurred into a sea of blues and greens. People, horses, carts, buildings are were just blots on a canvass.

Exspes’ knuckles tapped feverishly and pe...

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...s. Everything was a blur of red, the red of the enemies uniforms and the red of his men's blood. He saw a blur and shot, then another and another. Then, there was a gasp. Everyone around him stopped and gazed at what was happening. His own wife had been covered by blood and he had shot her. He gave a cry, and then The Great Highness Exspes, king of the Truculentiens, savior of the people, fell to his knees.

Of course Truculentus, the great city of war eventualy defeated Sapientia and the kings were set to meet at the now defenseless castle. Poor Exspes was inconsolable and had to be dragged to the ceremony. When taking his enemies sword, Exspes embraced him, about to break down. On his way back to the ship, he kissed the bloodsoaked land which he had unknowingly murdered his wife. As he left sobbing, the blood rose out of the ground and became the pomegranate tree.

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