A short story about a peasant named Blythe who dreams of becoming a brave and handsome knight. Little does he know, his wildest dreams are about to come true!
Now the amulet showed its full potential. It made Blythe smarter stronger and maybe even older. Either way, by the end of his transformation he looked like a hero.
He then had no control over his body. He ran to his house and grabbed a shovel. He then ran about a hundred yards from his house to a tree and started digging under the tree he found armour. It was no doubt precious armour for it was gold trimmed and light as air. He slipped all of it on and reached into a hole in the tree and pulled out a sword. It glowed blue and never flickered. Blythe’s unnatural powers gave him senses he had never had before. He knew where there was danger and ran to it like lightning. The next moment he was in front of the demon and the princess.
Princess Lorna was trapped but not in a cage, more a box of condensed darkness. She was barely visibly through the darkness and was still alive. Blythe stared in anger at the demon. The demon did not flinch but did beckon to him. Blythe charged at the demon but the demon dodged it leaving fire in its wake. Blythe knew the demon was too fast to hit if it knew that he was going to try to hit it. So he jumped at the demon and got his blade stuck in a tree. The demon cackled its bone-chilling laugh. Blythe waited until the demon charged then at the last second Blythe pulled his blade out of the wood and struck the demon in its black heart. The demon howled in pain. It slowly started to turn to ashes as it became weaker and weaker. Finally the demon was gone and a large blast of air came forth from the demon. The demon was extinguished. It was dead.
Blythe fell to his knees. He then started to sweat uncontrollably and have seizures. He saw guards running towards him just as he passed out.
Blythe awoke on a soft, warm bed. He looked around and saw his mother. She looked at him with a look of pride. She walked over to his bed, kissed him on the cheek and said “You have done well. Sleep my son.”
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!