Your house, located on a small strip of flat land, resides on top of a giant snowy mountain. As you open the door and let the howling winds battle with the warm fires of the hearth, you step outside pulling your coat tightly around you. Looking up at the peak of the mountain, you see a blizzard begin to build up. Like the warning of a house fire you look at your most prized possession, glancing at a wanderer walking up the mountain path. A man in heavy armor, with metal of colors blue and silver sticking onto his body. He walks towards the top of the mountain, the wind flowing around him as it tried to slow his ascent. Wondering what in the world this stranger is doing, you fiddle with the your coat and make your way towards him. Suddenly, a blanket of snow rises up in front of a mighty breeze and hits you bluntly on your face. Falling backwards, you are disoriented for a minute or so. Your vision blurs, the melted snow in your eyes only adding to the obscurity. Standing up again, you take the time to look at the mountain path properly, noticing the stranger had gone. Scanning the area carefully, you note the fact that the stranger has almost reached the top of the mountain.
Running now, you try to catch up to him, to tell him of the icy hell that was about to be unleashed on this mountain. As your boots pound the snow vigorously, the stranger appears to be holding a weapon you did not see earlier. It is a fine two handed sword, fit for a champion. Continuing your desperate running to save a life, you find yourself having arrived too late. The stranger stands at the top of the mountain, his gauntlet resting on the spiky top as he regains his balance. The champion turns around to look at you. You cannot see any of his features behind his helm.
"Ah. You followed me. I guess there should be at least one person to see this." The champion raises his two handed sword, poising it to his side to stab the spiky top of the mountain for some odd reason. "You might be wondering who I am. Though I don't think the story will be as good if I said my name.
"Good friend, I am the man who protects and serves. I am the unsung hero. I am myth." With that final statement, the champion strikes the point of the mountain with his sword, stabbing through the core of the spike. His sword easily penetrates the hard rock. Looking up at the heavens, your mouth opens in surprise as something unnatural begins to happen. The clouds and the winds start to focus, flying very closely together downwards toward the stranger. He shouts triumphantly as the wind pours into the massive crack caused by the champion's sword, somehow storing itself around the submerged sword. The champion's hearty laughing dies into silence as the blizzard disappears and the sun shines on the mountain.
All that is left of the champion is his body encased in a frozen tomb, the ice forming so closely to his frame that the curves of his armor could very easily be seen. All that was left was a body technically made of ice. All that was left... Was a myth.
Sat Mar 03, 2012 7:11 pm