Storytelling Week 14: Misery Loves Company

There once was a king who owned most of the gold in the world. King Midas amounts of gold. As kings do, he had a son. His son grew up with everything he could ever want: gold, jewels, women, you name it. One day, he grew bored of living his lavish lifestyle. He had heard of someone called Misery, so he set out to find it.

Along the way, he never ran out of money. He spent and spent, but his money never seemed to reach an end. So he didn't know what it was like to be truly miserable, and meet the dreaded Misery.

He did for months, and eventually his money was almost gone. He could barely buy food, and he thought about going back to his father.

"No, I can't go back yet," he thought. "I haven't met Misery, and that's the whole reason I went on this journey."

So he travelled on, until finally all he had was the clothes on his back. He walked the streets, and because he was the king's son, they often helped him out. They gave him food and shelter in hopes of gaining good graces with the king. With all the help he got, the king's son still had not met Misery.

One day, he decided to leave the boundaries of his father's lands. He walked through the desert for many days until he thought he couldn't go any further. His mouth was dry, he hadn't eaten, and his skin was burned from the beating sun. A figure showed up in the distance and was walking towards him. Surely this was someone coming to help him!

"You there! Can you help me?" the prince yelled out. But he got no reply, even though the figure was still moving towards him.

After what seemed like forever, the figure became clear. It wasn't quite human, but at the same time had very human-like features. It wore a tattered gray cloak, with worn boots and a hood that shielded its eyes from the burning sun. Its hands were twisted in gruesome positions. The prince knew immediately that it was Misery.

Not quite what Misery was wearing, but close enough.

Source: Getty Images

"You must be Misery," he said to the creature. "Is this what it takes to be miserable? Is this what people go through every day for you to be in their lives?"

Misery silently nodded, his eyes still hidden behind his hood.

After all his time in the palace living lavishly, the prince had a change of heart.

"Let me travel with you. You bring sadness and despair to people across the world. But I have the resources to bring joy and hope. Please, say I can do this," the prince pleaded.

Again, Misery nodded his head. It was settled. The prince would become Misery's companion, his antithesis, Hope.

The prince gathered all his strength, and began his journey to the palace. When he got there, he explained to his father what his plan was. He asked for his inheritance, and any other valuable possessions the king could spare. The king gave him enough gold and jewels to last him a few lifetimes over.

He hugged his father, and left with Misery. He was dressed in simple clothes, enough to blend in and not seem out of place with Misery.

They travelled throughout the world. Misery found the people in the darkest of times. He found those who were poor, hungry and without homes. Wherever Misery went, so too went the prince -- Hope. Hope gave these people money for whatever they needed. In their times of sadness, he brought them joy.

The moral of the story is this: wherever there is Misery, Hope can always be found close behind.

Author's Note: I chose to do the story The Man Who Met Misery from the Czech Folktales unit. In it, the prince meets Misery, then goes home back to his lavish lifestyle. He also loses a finger to a giant, which I won't explain too in depth! I wanted to reflect a change in attitude within the prince. I also thought I could give Misery a more human portrayal so the story would flow better.

Bibliography:

The Key of Gold: Czech Folk Tales by Josef Baudis (1922). 

Storytelling Week 13: Farther They Descend

So Dante and Virgil descended, down, down, down, further into the levels of Hell. They stepped to the edge of a cliff and warily peered into the Seventh Circle. There seemed to be no easy way to travel down the steep, craggy hill.

"How shall we continue our journey, Virgil?" Dante asked. "This cliff is far too steep for either of us to go down, and I don't see another way down."

At that moment, Virgil spied a set of particularly worn-out steps etched out of the side of the cliff. They appeared to have been used quite a bit at some point in time, although they were completely abandoned now.

"I think I've spotted our pathway into the Seventh Circle," Virgil explained as he directed Dante's vision towards the staircase. "There appears to be a bit of blockade we'll have to deal with once we have reached flatter ground."

Dante squinted his eyes to see what Virgil was talking about. Through the ash floating around, which took up almost all the available air, Dante made out a large, looming figure. It looked oddly familiar, but he couldn't quite tell what it was.

"Virgil, your eyes work better than mine down here. What is that creature?"

"Tis the Minotaur, the foul beast Theseus slew all those years ago," Virgil explained. "He blocks all entry into the Seventh Circle. But for now, we must first worry about the daunting task at hand -- making it down the stairway."

The Minotaur waiting on flat ground.

Credit: Johannes Holm

So Dante and Virgil began their slow descent. They clung tightly to the wall, grabbing whatever handholds they could find to keep balance. The steps seemed to go forever. There were hundreds, possibly as many as a thousand. After what felt like hours, the pair found solid footing, and unfortunately, the Minotaur.

"Step aside, Minotaur!" Virgil cried passionately. "None have stopped us thus far, and you certainly won't either!"

The Minotaur had been in Hell for quite some time. He could sense living souls, smell their breath. When he noticed Dante, his eyes burned with rage. Not for any particular thing Dante had done, but simply by being alive. He longed for the days when he wasn't trapped in a lifeless world.

He did the only thing he could thing of. He charged Dante at full speed. Dante barely dove out of the way as the Minotaur's horns came inches from his chest. Virgil began flailing his arms wildly to draw the monster's attention.

"When he charges me, head to the passageway that leads down, Dante! We only have one chance!"

Virgil finally caught the Minotaur's attention just as he was preparing to launch himself at Dante one more time. Once he was turned around, Dante sprinted towards the road that led to the Seventh Circle. Virgil ran to meet him, and they continued on their quest as the Minotaur watched them walk away.

Author's Note: I used the Minotaur and Centaurs section from the Dante's Inferno unit. This section about their descent into the Seventh Circle is not very long, so I wanted to extend it to display just how much difficulty I think they might have faced along the way. Pretty much everything in this story, minus the key parts, was made up by me.

Bibliography:
Dante's Divine Comedy: Dante Alighieri, 1320. Translated by Tony Kline, 2002.

Storytelling Week 12: The Tart Thief

After Alice had dined with the Hatter and the Hare, she eventually wound up in the King and Queen's Court. Everyone was there, and the Knave was standing between two guards in chains. Alice noticed a plate of tarts on a table near the King and Queen, and hoped they would soon be passing them out as they looked so good.

She began to notice all the different aspects of the court: the judge (who was the King) and the jury made up of all sorts of animals and people.

It was quite the scene.

Source: Disney's Alice in Wonderland, 1951

Alice waited patiently for the trial to start. Finally, the King ordered for the crime to be read aloud. The White Hare, who was the herald of the court, announced that the Knave of Hearts had stolen the Queen's tarts, and his punishment was to be banished from Wonderland for all of eternity.

"What is your verdict?" the King asked.

"Why the rush, Your Highness?" the Hare asked. "We have so much to do beforehand! Will Mr. Hatter please approach the bench?"

As the Mad Hatter approached the bench, Alice began to fidget. This was all too intense, and to think the Knave's fate in Wonderland depended on just three people! The Hatter didn't seem too concerned as he walked up with tea in hand.

After a long line of questions, Alice began to wonder if they really planned to kick the Knave out of Wonderland. She soon forgot her worries as the next witness was called: the Duchess's cook. The cook declined to answer any questions, but the King said she has no other option or she will be executed. Eventually, the King was done questioning the cook -- he had asked her mainly what was used to make tarts -- and he asked for the final witness. Alice watched intently as the Dormouse was awoken and sent to the stand for questioning.

"Have you seen who stole the tarts?" the King asked the mouse. "Or have you any idea who might have stolen them?"

The Dormouse, who was barely awake as he was sleeping most of his days away, looked up lazily and said one word -- Alice. At hearing her name, Alice looked up in fear as the Queen's gaze stopped directly on her. "Grab that girl and expel her this instance!" the Queen yelled angrily. "Never again shall you set foot in Wonderland!"

Alice kicked and clawed as the King's guards grabbed her and pushed towards an odd looking doorway. "This is a travesty!" she screamed. "I've never stolen anything in my life!"

But it was too late. Because of one testimony, Alice had been banned from Wonderland for life. The guards pushed her through the door and suddenly she was back in her bed, in her world. She began to cry as she realized never again would she be a part of the wonder and magic of that strange world again.

Author's Note: I used Who Stole the Tarts as the basis for my story. It's pretty similar in structure and events -- I left out a lot that happened for the sake of brevity -- but I changed it to a rather abrupt ending in which Alice is kicked out without a chance to speak her peace. A sad ending, sure, but fairy tales aren't always happy!

Bibliography:
From the Alice in Wonderland unit: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll, 1865.

Storytelling Week 11: Morgan le Fay's Plot

Author's Note: I'm including this author's note at the beginning of my story (from the unit on King Arthur) to add context to it because I'm writing this from the perspective of Morgan le Fay, King Arthur's sister (or half-sister, there's a weird relationship going on there), as she plots to kill him. The italicized portions of the story represent passing time not from Morgan's perspective, and the text in "quotes" is her dialogue to other characters. So without adding anything else to this, here goes!

                                                                                                                                                                   

I've had it with Arthur. I can't stand him any longer. Everything always goes his way: the sword in the stone, killing the tallest Knight in the land -- which he wouldn't have done had that insufferable Merlin not stepped in -- and this the final straw, slaying my beloved Accalon. But no more will he escape the fate he so clearly deserves. Finally, I will have my revenge on him!

I can't do this while I have to be here, so I must request of Queen Guenevere permission to leave.

After asking the Queen for permission to take her leave, which the Queen grants, Morgan heads towards where the King is staying after a hard-fought battle.

My time has finally come. There will never be a more perfect opportunity than right now. All I have to do is get past those blasted nuns watching over him. Wait, are they going to wake him up to tell him I'm here?

"Don't wake the King! I'm sure he's lacking for rest after such a fierce battle. I will wake him when I think he's had enough sleep, so you can go now."

Wow, that was a lot easier than I thought it would be. Arthur is a fool for leaving his protection up to a group of silly nuns. What makes him think they could stop anyone from getting to him?

Morgan makes her way towards the King's chambers, where she finds him in a deep sleep.

I swear by the gods I have the worst luck. Of course Arthur has Excalibur close by! How then shall I slay him when he has the power of that sword in the palm of his hand? What did Merlin tell him? Oh, how could I forget?! The true power of Excalibur lies not within the sword, but its scabbard! Without it, Arthur is truly vulnerable.

With this realization, Morgan stows the scabbard under her cloak and makes haste to the forest. Arthur awoke and discovered his scabbard missing, and together he and his fastest men chase after her. Morgan escaped using some of her magical prowess, and quickly went to her own country of Gore and fortified her towns and castles. 

Well, it looks like I missed the chance to kill Arthur once again. But there is one more idea I've been pondering. After such a bold attempt, Arthur would never be expecting a gift of apology from me. Let me see what I can throw together to do away with that swine once and for all.

Pulling out every magical spell she can think of, Morgan enchants a mantle of the finest quality with a deadly spell. The particular spell she's imbued within it is one that will cause the first person to put it on to be reduced to a pile of ashes. 

Morgan le Fay

by DeviantArt user, mari-na

There's no way the King can see this coming. Arthur's end is at hand!

"Bring me one of my fairest maidens to deliver this gift to His Majesty, the King! Make sure no one puts this on but him, do you understand me?

"Quickly now, make your way to Camelot to the King's Court and deliver this gift with my sincerest apologies."

Now the only thing left to do is wait for the news of Arthur's demise. I can hardly wait.



Bibliography:
King Arthur: Tales of the Round Table by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1902).
Story Source: King Arthur and Morgan le Fay

Additional note: I didn't change the story up very much because I didn't particularly want to write a story that ends up with King Arthur getting murdered, mainly because he's one of my favorite legendary characters. So the essence of the story is the same, the format it's delivered in is different!

Storytelling Week 10: Thunderbirds Abound

A long time ago in the far North, thunderbirds lived prosperously. After a while, there weren't that many of them (four to be exact). They decided to make their home on the top of a mountain overlooking the Yukon.

Once they had made their home safe and sound on the mountaintop, their numbers gradually grew more and more. The parents would fly down from high up the mountain and wreak havoc for the locals. They would take livestock, huge amounts of fish from the lake, and even a fisherman or two. Because of their actions, they developed a horrible reputation.

Now you must keep in mind these birds were massive. Much larger than any bird the locals saw on a regular basis. They flew with such speed that their curved, razor-sharp talons would flash in the sky like lightning cracking in the clouds. Their screeches were so loud that it could be heard extremely far away and echoed across the still, Northern landscape. This is why the natives called them thunderbirds.

How natives saw the thunderbirds.

One day, a hunter grew tired of his wife and children living in fear for their lives because of the winged beasts. After all, it hadn't been safe for them to do the things they needed to sustain themselves for quite some time. So he took his bow and a few larger-than-necessary arrows and headed towards the thunderbird nest. 

When he got there, he was shocked to find not one nest, but many nests, all filled with growing thunderbirds. He realized he wouldn't have enough arrows to kill all of them, so he improvised. He figured these birds couldn't fly just yet, so he took out his trusty flint and rock and tried to spark the nests. After he got the first one to catch, he repeated the same thing with all the other nests. He watched contentedly as each nest burned, and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he realized his peoples' troubles were gone. He started towards his village to tell the people what he had accomplished. 

What he didn't realize is that there were still more thunderbirds flying around away from where they usually were. By the time the birds were back to their nests, the hunter was long gone. They cried out feverishly, but realized finding and killing whoever did this wasn't worth dealing with until their numbers grew again. So the thunderbirds wait patiently, circling the mountain and surrounding areas for food. They cry out often and loudly to remind the people they are there. And this is why the thunder on the mountain seems to crack so often.

Author's Note: I chose The Last of the Thunderbirds as my story inspiration, from the Alaskan Legends unit. In the original, the hunter goes to the mountain and kills all the birds with arrows. There's also no mention of them sounding like thunder or anything of that nature, I just added that in there cause it seemed like something a non-advanced civilization would make up to explain thunder or lightning. 

Bibliography:

"The Last of the Thunderbirds."

Myths and Legends of Alaska, edited by Katharine Berry Judson (1911).

Storytelling Week 9: An Unlikely Relationship

Back in the day, Flint lived up in the mountains. He had such sharp edges, and was responsible for killing many animals. Not only Flint, but all those like him. Because of this, all the animals hated him (and all the other Flints too). None hated him more than the Rabbit. He was the chief of his people, and had seen many of them fall victim to Flint's bladed sides.

Rabbit was a lot bigger than the other rabbits, that's why he was chief!

So one day, Rabbit decided to go to Flint's house to get revenge on him. He knocked on the door and was surprised to find Flint was old and decrepit.

"Yes?" asked Flint in a raspy, broken voice.

"Are you the one they call Flint?" Rabbit questioned.

"Why, yes I am young fella," Flint replied. "What can I do for you?"

At this point Rabbit was having second thoughts about his revenge plan. How could he, in his good health, cause harm to someone as old as Flint? Wasn't he taught to respect the elders?

"Are you okay?" asked Flint, snapping Rabbit out of his daze. "Why not come inside and have some dinner, I'll make you a salad and you can tell me what you want."

This caught Rabbit even more off guard. He was offering him dinner, and not even meat -- a salad!

Flint seated Rabbit at his table, prepared the salad, and put it in front of Rabbit. It had everything Rabbit loved: carrots, lettuce, spinach, everything! Now Rabbit was beginning to feel guilty about wanting to kill Flint at all. He seemed like a nice guy.

"I have something to confess, Flint," Rabbit started. "I didn't come here just to stop by. I was planning on killing you because of all you have done to my friends and family."

Flint sighed. "I knew that's why you were here as soon as I opened the door."

"Then why did you let me in if you knew I was going to hurt you?" Rabbit asked incredulously.

"Everyone must meet their fate," he explained. "I always knew what I was doing was wrong, but I didn't really have a choice in the matter. It's the only thing I'm good for. And for that I truly apologize. Now before we actually become friends, I suggest you finish what you came to do."

Rabbit reached for the weapons he had brought, but couldn't do it. He realized Flint wasn't truly bad after all. Rabbit told Flint that he would die at some point, but not until it was from old age.

"I'm sorry for everything I've done to your kind," Flint said. "You have my word that I will never hurt anyone like you again. But you must not let them know that you didn't kill me. You can tell them you got your revenge on me, but on one condition: come visit me once a week for dinner and just to keep me company."

The Rabbit enthusiastically agreed, and went back and told his kind that they would never have to worry about Flint hurting them again. And that's how Flint and Rabbit became friends.

Author's note: I liked the story Flint Visits the Rabbit, from the Cherokee Myths unit, so I decided to create a new version where instead of the two being bitter enemies, they ended up as unlikely companions. I think my story has a happier ending than the other one, even if it's more unrealistic. But a talking flint and rabbit are unrealistic in the first place, so it all works out!

Bibliography:
Myths of the Cherokee (1900) by James Mooney

Storytelling Week 7: Anansi, Fruit Dove and Fish

As he liked to do, Anansi enjoyed watching the birds fly all through the trees. He was particularly fond of the fruit doves with their bright colors as they would flash in the sunlight.

One day he wanted to fly like the doves did. So he called to one of the birds and asked to ride on his back as he flew among the treetops. The dove agreed as long as Anansi would behave himself, which he agreed to, and off they went.

Anansi's friend, the Superb Fruit Dove

When they were in the air, the dove started flying fast to see how Anansi would react. It was just what he wanted, but it scared Anansi. He dug his legs into the dove, which hurt the dove. As he saw it, Anansi had broken the agreement so he flipped over and dropped Anansi into the river.

Though he had eight legs, Anansi couldn't swim very well at all! A fish came and scooped him up and Anansi cried, "Brudda Fish, don' eat me!"

The Fish asked how Anansi knew who he was. Anansi replied he was his distant cousin. The Fish told him it was nice to meet him, but thought he would see just how true that was.

They went to the Fish's house, and he introduced Anansi to his family. Anansi was tired from all the flying he had done earlier (holding on to that dove wasn't easy work!) and came up with an idea.

"Quite da family you have brudda," Anansi said. "Say, do ya have any food?"

The Fish said he did, and made a meal only a member of his family would like to test Anansi's supposed family relation: a rather bitter mix of algae, plants and dead crayfish. It was a recipe that had been passed down in his family for generations. Once he had it ready, he offered a bowl to Anansi.

Anansi took one bite and tried his hardest to like it.

"Dat be so good brudda, just like ma use ta mek," Anansi said in his most convincing voice.

But Fish could tell he wasn't being honest, and asked him to take a walk with him. They walked towards the river, and as they got to the river bank, Fish pushed Anansi into the river.

"You ah no family of mine, brudda!" Fish cried out as Anansi struggled to keep his head above the water. And Fish went back to his family to live happily another day.

Author's Note: I used Anansi, White-Belly and Fish as the inspiration for my story. In the original story, Anansi rides a white-belly dove to get as much food as possible. He tries to steal eggs from the fish family and ends up eating the fish's children (that's why fish get eaten today). In my story, the dove is a Fruit Dove and he only rides him for fun to see what it's like to fly. He also doesn't eat the fish, he just tries to take advantage of them. He gets his just desserts in the end. Also, there isn't much dialogue because trying to emulate Jamaican dialect is actually really hard, but I did my best!

Bibliography:
Jamaican Anansi Stories, Martha Warren Beckwith, 1924

Week 6 Storytelling: The Jewel of Fate

At this point, Takeuchi was worn out and embarrassed at his shortcomings. How could he lose the Jewel? It was the only thing he was supposed to take care of, and he had failed. He could never show his face in the capital again. Unless he could somehow get it back, perhaps? No, that is hopeless, he thought to himself.

So there was only one logical course of action -- suicide. In Japan, one's honor is the most valuable possession he or she can have. Lose it, and it doesn't matter how many worldly possessions you have, none of them matter. Without honor, you are lost.

Takeuchi, being a high minister in the courts, knew the customs of his land very well. His heart was dead-set on ending his life on this night. But he was not aware he was being followed by a young fisherwoman, Tamatori. She had always been quite fond of Takeuchi, but never acted upon it for fear of banishment from the realm.

"We can get the Jewel together!" Tamatori exclaimed just as Takeuchi had drawn his sword. "Just don't give up yet, there's still a chance to find it."

"I suppose you're right," Takeuchi agreed. "Where do you think it is?"

"I see a light shining through the waters not far from here," Tamatori explained. "We should head there as quickly as we can to ensure no one gets there before us!"

So the two made haste towards a small island not far off the shore. Just on the other side of it, they could clearly see the Jewel of Fate broadcasting its glorious light through the shimmering waters towards the heavens.

"We must figure a way to swim down there without alerting the beast that guards it," Takeuchi stated calmly, "or surely we shall both perish on this night."

Thus the two devised a plan. Tamatori would swim down to grab it, then bring it back halfway to the surface where Takeuchi would protect them both with his blade and successfully restore his honor. Once it was agreed upon, the pair dove into the depths, using the light from the Jewel as a beacon.

When she got close enough to grab the Jewel, the vicious sea-dragon Mizuchi brought all manner of grotesque creatures towards Tamatori to hinder her from bringing the Jewel to Takeuchi. She struggled to maintain her hold on the Jewel as the monsters of the deep attacked her in unison.

Mizuchi, the sea-dragon.

(As depicted in Devil Summoner: Soul Hackers)

But at that exact moment, Susanowo had been watching these events unfold. He had always had a particular hatred for Mizuchi, so he found this the perfect opportunity to anger the dragon. As Tamatori swam up, he summoned a powerful whirlpool which surrounded Tamatori and Takeuchi, ensuring their safe return to shore.

The two then headed back to return the Jewel to its rightful place. Along the way, Tamatori made her love for Takeuchi known, and he deemed her a Princess he would be honored to call his wife. And the two lived on a great many years together, she a Princess, and he a man with his honor intact.

Author's Note: I used The Quest of the Jewel as the basis for my story. In the original, Tamatori goes to get the jewel by herself, and ends up killing herself to protect it because dragons can't interact with anything dead. This seemed a bit cruel to me, as she sacrificed her life for a man who may not have necessarily deserved it (he did lose the jewel after all). Also, I added in the presence of Susanowo; he wasn't involved in the original story at all, but I thought it'd be an interesting twist to include another famous Japanese god.

Bibliography:
Romance of Old Japan
E.W. Champney and F. Champney
1917

Storytelling Week 5: The Three Not-So-Delicate Wives

After a while, the goblin spoke up and offered a story to the king. This is what he told him.

So there was an honorable king named Virtue-banner who had three beautiful wives. One, Crescent, another Moon, and another named Star. The king loved them all dearly, and would do whatever he could to make them happy. They were some of the most delicate women in the entire land, something Virtue-banner valued highly.

The king was playing with Crescent one night, and a flower petal fell into her lap. She immediately began to scream bloody murder as if she was in excruciating pain. The king wasn't really sure what was going on, it was only a flower pedal! Surely she couldn't be serious! She asked if she could turn in for the night as she didn't feel well, so the king begrudgingly agreed. He asked his top physicians to look after her and find out just what exactly her deal was. So fifty of his men went to assist the queen.

Queen Crescent overreacting, per usual.

As the king pondered what had just happened, he came upon his other wife, Star. She was tired from all the commotion that had occurred earlier with Crescent, and soon had fallen asleep on a couch with the king. As she was sleeping, she too began to scream as if in pain. The king tried to awake her because he thought she was having a nightmare. She was most definitely awake, but could not be soothed. The king pleaded with her, "Star, my dear, what is the matter?" But she could only muster the strength to point at her arms. Virtue-banner looked her arms up and down but saw no signs of any injury whatsoever.

But she continued to insist, "My arms are burned, make it stop, please!" The king asked more of his physicians to aid her as they had done with Queen Crescent, and they took her to her chambers to find the source of her non-existent burns. The king's frustration continued to grow. So he went to find his third wife, Moon, in hopes of salvaging what was supposed to be a relaxing night.

He called her name, and she appeared from her room at his wish. Virtue-banner tried to begin to explain what his night had been like, but as soon as he started to talk, she too began to scream. Virtue-banner had had it with these faux displays of pain from his wives, as nothing ever appeared to be wrong with them! He asked what was wrong, and she explained she could hear a grain mill grinding in the distance.

"That's odd," he thought, "There aren't any grain mills for miles around, what could she be talking about?" But she insisted her ears were in pain. So once again, the king told his physicians to take care of him, as he had expended all patience he had for the day. And he went to bed alone, frustrated, and exhausted from the days goings on.


"So which was the most delicate?" the goblin asked King Triple-victory. The king pondered this question for a long time.

"There is no correct answer to this question," he explained, "as they were all imagining things. None of them actually had anything wrong with them, outside of the very obvious mental disorders they have. So my answer is none -- none of them were delicate, just crazy."

And the goblin snuck down and returned to his tree for the king to fetch for the sixth time.

Author's Note: I used The Three Delicate Wives as a basis for my story. In it, the three queens are each affected by the things that I used in my story, but they are all actually physically harmed. I changed my story to reflect a more realistic world in which the only ailments they suffer from are mental. And rather than being patient and understanding, the king gets more and more frustrated as the story goes on, which I felt was a more proper response to what would've seemed like plain ridiculousness.

Bibliography:
Twenty-Two Goblins
Arthur W. Ryder
1917

Storytelling Week 2: The Cruelty of Achilles

Now Achilles was in mourning over his friend Patroclus, still, though he had just slain the mighty Hector. His anger towards the Trojans burned deep within him, for Patroclus had been his dearest friend. The glory of taking Troy would be his, yes, but at what cost? His soldiers viewed him as a leader, a warrior, but hardly as a friend like dear Patroclus had. After he had dispatched Hector, Achilles had dragged him behind his chariot, his mare effortlessly gliding across the plain in front of the wall as the lifeless body of Hector dragged behind him.

Atop the wall, King Priam had watched as his noblest son was humiliated in death. He was both angered by Achilles' actions and saddened because no man could avenge his son against the mightiest of warriors. He paced thoughtfully, wondering how he could possibly retrieve Hector's body to give him a proper burial. 

Meanwhile, the gods had convened to watch Achilles' battle with Hector. When they saw him take the body back to the Greek camp, Zeus became angry with Achilles.

"Go to your son at once," Zeus commanded Thetis, "And tell him it is my wish that he return the body of Hector to the Trojans."

         Thetis listening to Zeus' commands for Achilles.

So Thetis made hastily for the shores of Troy where Achilles had taken the body of Hector. "My son, you must allow Hector the proper burial," she said. "Zeus has sworn his wrath upon you if you refuse. Listen to what the king Priam will offer for ransom." Achilles reluctantly agreed.

The king loaded up his chariot with the finest jewels, trinkets and cloaks he could find. At high noon the following day, he ordered the gates of the mighty wall open and made his way to the Grecian camp. Achilles had awoken with the sun, his mourning over Patroclus robbing him of peaceful slumber. He waited patiently for the king to arrive to hear his proposition. In no time, the king had entered the camp.

Soliders led the king to Achilles' tent, for they had heard the night before of his intentions. Achilles ushered the soldiers out so the two men could discuss in solitude. Priam's offer was simple: keep the chariot and everything in it, but give him Hector's body intact so as not to refuse him the burial he deserves. As he was listening to Priam's offer, Achilles mind began to wander back to Patroclus' death. He recalled the Trojans spearing him in the back, and taking Achilles' arms from his body. A fiery urge for vengeance crept into his belly, and Achilles became incensed. 

"No amount of gold or jewels can bring back my closest friend," Achilles explained. "Therefore, no amount of gold or jewels will bring back your proudest son."

Zeus had been watching intently as Achilles and Priam conversed, and soon became furious with Achilles' disobedience. He sent down a crack of lightning just outside Achilles' tent as a warning for the mistake he was about to make. But proud as he was, Achilles paid it no mind. He left the tent in a rage.

He went outside to where Hector’s body was laid, grabbed his sword and cut the limbs of the body, furthering the prince’s humiliation in death. Once he had spent all of his anger, he grabbed a torch and lit the body where it was, completely destroying the chance for a proper burial. Priam watched in despair as the remains of his son rose towards the gods in a plume of black smoke. 

As soon as he was done, he fled. Thetis, though she wished not to anger Zeus, hid her son as he ran, for she loved him dearly. Achilles wasn’t seen for many years, and the Greeks suffered a tragic defeat at the hands of the Trojans, for they had no warrior who could match Achilles’ strength and leadership. 

Author’s Note: I used “The Ransoming of Hector” as the basis for my story. Instead of Priam getting his son back, however, I put forth a scenario in which Achilles refused his offer, thus risking the wrath of Zeus. This is a critical point to consider when reading my story, as Zeus is all-powerful to the Greek people. To anger him is to almost certainly be inviting death, one way or another. I think my version highlights different attributes of Achilles, not only his anger, but his belief that he wouldn't be defeated by anybody, even Zeus. In the original, Achilles accepts the ransom of gold and jewels, and the Greeks and Trojans have a 9 day respite from battle to give Hector a proper burial. This is an important part of Greek culture in the setting of Troy vs. the Greeks, as a proper burial allows the deceased to be given coins to pay the ferry toll. I doubt Achilles would have ever done what I said he did just because while he is a fierce warrior, he does respect the traditions of his people and their enemies, but in my interpretation, Achilles is a slave to his anger a lot more than he is in The Iliad. 

Week 4 Storytelling: The King's Kindness and the Green Jewel

One day, King Sneferu grew bored of sitting in his palace doing kingly stuff. I mean, he could only do so much work before it became rather tedious. So he called his chief scribe in to ask for some ideas of things that could cure his boredom.

"Dude, I'm so ridiculously bored I'm losing my mind in here," said Sneferu. "I need some ideas of things to do."

Now his scribe knew the king pretty well, and knew his interests well. The scribe had a laundry list of things the king enjoyed doing, but he had done all of them fairly recently, and surely something he had done before wouldn't make him any less bored. But then, the scribe thought of an idea in the back of his mind for the king to do.

"Go out to the lake, Your Highness," the scribe suggested. "Pick some girls from the kingdom to row for you, that way you can enjoy their beauty and relax at the same time. Maybe take some lunch and just spend the afternoon out there."

The king stroked his regal king beard as he thought of whether he wanted to do this or not.

Metal representation of what Sneferu's beard may have looked like.* How regal.

After some internal deliberation, Sneferu decided his scribe was probably right, as he usually was. "Right you are, dear friend," he said. "Fetch me some beautiful women and send word to the docks to have a boat prepared for my departure within the hour."

Sneferu and the women the scribe found set out on their relaxing day on the lake (relaxing for the king that is, the women were rowing for him). After a while, one of the girls suddenly stopped rowing. The king immediately asked what was going on because as most of you know, if more people are rowing on one than on the other, the boat starts turning. Sneferu got kind of mad because the sun was in the perfect position and now it was ruined. 

"What in the name of Ra is going on?" the king exclaimed. 

One of the girls responded, "The driver lost one of her jewels." 

"And?" questioned the king incredulously. "What concern is that of mine?"

Now the girl who had lost her jewel spoke up, explaining, "This jewel is one of my most prized possessions, Your Highness. It was given to me from my mother, who is now with Osiris in the underworld."

When he heard this, the king felt bad for the girl, for it was partially his fault she had lost it. So he offered to find it for her in the lake. She tried to decline, but the king insisted. He told them to drop the anchor so they wouldn't drift away, and after taking off most of his clothes, jumped into the water. He dove and dove, much farther than he had expected it to be. 

After what felt like ages, the king surfaced with the girl's jewel in his hand. The girl was ecstatic and thanked the king profusely. The king handed her the jewel under one premise: come back to the palace with him and be his wife, for she was beautiful. Of course she agreed. 

When they got back to the palace, the story was recounted time and time again of the king's courage and dedication to helping the girl. Once the night crept around, the scribe went to bed immediately. He had a long day ahead of him tomorrow; after all, the hieroglyphics to cement the story in history wouldn't write themselves. 

Author's Note: I used the Green Jewel as reference for my story. My last few stories have been pretty seriously written in terms of the language I used and the content, so I wanted to write a little more light-hearted story. I changed the ending mainly, because in the original the scribe whips up a fancy spell to split the lake, and that was just a little too magical for me. Hope you guys enjoyed!

*Disclaimer: he may or may not have actually had a beard.

Bibliography:
Egyptian Myth and Legend
Donald Mackenzie
1907

Storytelling Week 3: Jesus Arrives to Jerusalem

Preface: I had a bit of a hard time writing this story just because the stories surrounding Jesus' life are so well-known and set in stone. I didn't plan ahead for the story aspect when I decided to do the reading diaries for this section. Anyways, here's a bit of a different take on Jesus' arrival to Jerusalem. In the Bible, as most people should know, Jesus is a mild-tempered person who leans more towards kindness and non-violence. His outburst in the temple during which he flips over the tables the Pharisees and high priests are using is very atypical of his demeanor. In my story, to reflect his mild demeanor, I had Jesus choosing not to confront the Pharisees and high priests, but rather praying for them. I chose the picture I did to create a sort of look into Jesus' mind, because like I mentioned, he didn't do that in my version, but in the Bible, he does that so of course someone out there had to create a picture to depict what happened that day. Also, I feel like changing the story of the Bible is somehow sacrilegious, but for the purposes of the storytelling, I did what I could.

So Jesus and the Twelve travelled towards Jerusalem, and were to arrive shortly. When they came upon the Mount of Olives, Jesus told two of his disciples to go to the inn and find a place for them to stay. They asked Jesus for some money so they could pay an innkeeper when they found one, but Jesus told them not to worry about it.

The disciples found this a bit odd, for Jesus was well-liked in some areas, and despised in others. How were they supposed to know how the people of Jerusalem would react to his arrival? Nonetheless, the two he had designated left for the city.

When they arrived, they found an inn with room enough for all of them to sleep. The innkeeper promised them they would have a place to stay when Jesus and the rest came into town. "We've been treated poorly in far too many places, give us something as a guarantee your word is true," the disciples said. The innkeeper said he had a young colt they could take with them, and to give it back when they returned.

The man who ran the inn was well-known in town as being an honest man, one all the people liked, and the people who saw the disciples with the innkeeper's colt began to wonder who these strange men were.

"You there!" some of them asked. "How did this colt come into your keeping? He is the man's most prized possession, surely he would never just let someone take him."

"We take it as a token of good word that Jesus, the Son of God, will have a place to stay in his time here," they explained.

When the people heard Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, word spread throughout the city. Many people lined the streets to welcome him, offering clothes in his path and palm branches. The elders and high priests watched as the people embraced him, and they began to devise ways to trick him.

The next day, Jesus went into the temple. He watched silently as the priests and scribes did business on holy ground, and he became increasingly angry. Just as he was about to confront them, he thought of what message it would send to his disciples if they saw him lose his temper.

What Jesus wanted to do. 

So he calmed himself, and walked out. The disciples followed him, questioning why he didn't say anything to the people in the temple for what they were doing. "I have spoken to my Father," Jesus explained, "And he has been watching the priests and Pharisees. He has allowed these things to happen in order to test the leaders." And Jesus began to cry tears of sadness, for his teachings had not yet been accepted in Jerusalem, though word of them had surely spread to the Holy City by this time. 

The next day, Jesus decided to travel around the city and spread his Word, in hopes that the priests would hear him and accept his teachings and the power that God had given him. But rather, they became incensed by his teachings, for they did not align with the scriptures of old. They asked him who gave him the right to say these things, but Jesus simply answered in response, "I have not questioned your authority in the temple, so do not question mine."

And the priests thought of even more ways to put an end to Jesus' blasphemy. 

Bibliography: King James Bible (1611)

The Tortoise and the Hare Redux: Storytelling Week 1

In the original Tortoise and the Hare, the hare and tortoise have a race. The tortoise, while slow, continues on during the whole race. The hare, while fast, stops many times because he's sure he will win the race. The tortoise wins, and the moral is "slow and steady wins the race."

In a magical land where animals somehow talk and devise competitions to determine superiority -- which are all admittedly very human characteristics -- a tortoise and a hare were in a battle of wits. The tortoise, wise from his many years, as tortoises are wont to live many years, had taken a commanding lead with his knowledge and experiences gained throughout his life.

The tortoise answered question after question (and usually added a personal anecdote to go along with his answer) and soon enough the hare had had enough. Determined to prove his superiority over the tortoise, the hare challenged the tortoise to a battle he was sure he could win -- a race.

Now the tortoise, while very wise, was incredibly stubborn. Old age tends to do that to people, and magical talking animals are no different. So he boldly agreed to the hare's challenge.

"Name a time and place," the tortoise proclaimed confidently. 

"In exactly one month," the hare explained, "We will race from one end of the meadow to the other. The loser must declare the winner his superior."

The tortoise began his training regimen immediately. He started walking further and further distances, willing his old limbs to carry him much farther than they had in many years. The hare, on the other hand, did not train at all, mostly because hares are usually on the run from predators, hunters, etc. 

Exactly one month later, the two were ready for their race. Before they began, the hare gave the tortoise a thirty minute head start in the hopes of embarrrassing him even more than he had planned already. The tortoise had lost some confidence during his training, so he agreed. 

                                     Accurate representation of the starting line.

The two lined up at the starting line, eager to prove their worth, and the race began. The tortoise, as the hare had allowed, trudged on for thirty minutes. The hare waited patiently until his time to start arrived. As soon as the thirty minutes had passed, the hare was off like a flash. He darted over rocks, under branches and logs, and in no time had finished the race, long before the tortoise. It wasn't until the sun had nearly crept below the horizon that the tortoise finally finished.

The hare gloated at the finish line, but the tortoise reminded him that he had lost the battle of wits as convincingly as he had won the race. So the two agreed that while one was superior in one facet, he lacked in the other. And they went about their business as friends and equals. 

The moral of this story is this: no one is the best at everything. And races are almost always won by the fastest competitor, mostly because races are based on finishing ahead of everyone else and being the fastest greatly helps in achieving victory in a speed-oriented competition.

Author's Note: The tortoise and the hare is one of the most well-known of Aesop's Fables. Be that as it may, I have always found it to be unrealistic in the sense that a tortoise would never beat a hare in a race. So I adapted what I consider to be a more realistic telling emphasizing the hypothetical strengths of the two animals. 

Bibliography

Title: The Æsop for Children
       With pictures by Milo Winter 

 Author: Æsop 

 Illustrator: Milo Winter 

 Release Date: December 2, 2006 [EBook #19994]

Picture from Walt Disney's The Tortoise and the Hare (1935)