The young boy lay in his bed, gazing out of his window in wonder. He stared at looming Mount Gargor, with colossal body, coated in the night, its tip that pierced through the clouds and rising up to the heavens. It stood over them like a guardian, protecting the small village nestled at its feet.
The boy's grandmother stretched a smile across her leathery face and asked him if he would like a story about Mount Gargor before bed, an offer the boy excitedly accepted.
''Well'', she said, adopting her deep storyteller:'' A long time ago, this very mountain rose up from the ground to watch over the village. It wrapped its great arms around us and cradled us our little town in its protective grasp. This ensured our peace and safety, for none could defeat the great mountain. Not even the finest bandits and outlaws, with fire in their eyes and thunder booming under their mounts' feet could scale it. Even the vast armies of the most powerful kingdoms were brushed off, much in the same way you would brush dust from your coat. For centuries we were safe, living in our microcosm. Little did we know that within Gargor, a demon was rearing its head.
For as the village grew larger, more cramped and more trapped by Gargor's embrace, many sought to leave, to trade safety for opportunity. But Gargor grew jealous; it would not let its beloved villagers leave it. Its envy grew into a great lurking monster, and it lashed out at those who tried to leave. The freezing cold that it summoned would strand many on its rocky valleys, and only the ablest of our village could make the journey alive. Despite this, Gargor was still enraged. It wished to punish us and wreck revenge on us for our perceived insolence.
We heard a great rumbling from above, it was as if the earth itself was bellowing in agony. We watched the beautiful, snowy haired head of the mountain crumbling and falling. Sheets of white raced towards us like soldiers who marched in formation with malign intent to destroy our paradise. When the snow finally reached us, it destroyed everything, mashing our homes into skeletal ruins, drowning our people in a frozen sea. Few of us even survived to wonder what had become of our benign protector.
So do not forget young one, that our Gargor may hold us close, and protect us from the dangers of this world, but it is also fickle, and should it turn against us again, and bring those great landslides of snow, then we must always be prepared, and always on guard against the destruction the mountain may bring.''
I really enjoyed reading this short story. It felt like a convincing winter scene, with a grandmother telling her grandchild a story about a local mountain before bed. I especially liked how Mount Gargor itself is portrayed, a loving yet possessive protector of the villagers. Snowy mountains are truly unpredictable when it comes to avalanches...This whole narrative really seems like a "winter tale," and your writing style is easy to read. Please keep up the good work.
1.
The young boy lay in his bed, gazing out of his window in wonder. He stared at looming Mount Gargor, with colossal body, coated in the night, its tip that pierced through the clouds and rising up to the heavens.
The young boy lay in his bed, gazing out of his window in wonder at the looming Mount Gargor, with its colossal, night-coated body, its peak that pierced the clouds of the heavens.
The boy's grandmother stretched a smile across her leathery face and asked him if he would like a story about Mount Gargor before bed, an offer the boy excitedly accepted.
''Well'', she said, adopting her deep storyteller:''
But Gargor grew jealous; it would not let its beloved villagers leave it.
Its envy grew into a great lurking monster, and it lashed out at those who tried to leave.
Despite this, Gargor was still enraged. It wished to punish us and wreck revenge on us for our perceived insolence.
Sheets of white raced towards us like soldiers who marched in formation with malign intent to destroy our paradise.
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