There once was a young boy name Arthur. Arthur was
born into middle class family during the medieval times and grew up within the
city's walls all his life. Arthur's family owned a bakery shop near the central
castle which was heavily guarded by ironclad knights. Arthur had always found
knights to be extremely interesting and took to becoming a page and entered
apprenticeship under a well respected knight of the city. As the years passed
Arthur progressed into a fine knight and became well respected all across the
land. He defeated many great monsters in his time and traveled the land far and
wide to offer his services. One day, he received a letter from a king in a
faraway land pleading for Arthur the Great to rid them of a foul demon wreaking
havoc on his lands. Arthur accepted the request and sailed to the faraway land
quickly. Upon arrival, Arthur was met with a young boy the king had sent to
show him the lair of the demon. As Arthur approached the lair he began to
hear a deep roar, a sound no human could make. He gripped his sword tight and
braced for battle. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours. The
two parties appeared to be in a standoff and Arthur grew restless. He poked his
guide with his sword and ushered him towards the demon’s lair. As the guide was
pushed further toward the darkness the demon launched out of its dark dwelling
and attacked the boy, and fiercely devoured him. Arthur knew he would be next
and began to run. He ran to the outer opening of the demon’s layer and sealed it
shut with as many rocks as he could carry. He quickly collected his bounty from
the king and left quickly. He tried very hard to forget that time. Arthur never
picked up a sword again and into his old age he retold his great feats to his
grandchildren. All, except one, that would go on to haunt him every night. The
young boy’s life that he sacrificed so easily as mere bait would never cease to
haunt him and in his grief made him take his own life.
Author's Note: This story is
loosely based off the story of Dasaratha's grief over killing the young boy in
the forest, and having it haunt him in his sleep. I wanted to take a
medieval spin on the folklores we’ve been reading in class to change things up
a little bit.
