The Bedtime story of a Legend

A part in my story where a character named Sousan, gives a bedtime story to a boy named Matius.

On hell night has fallen, the street lights giving light in the darkness. In the comfort of his warm home Osaris watches outside, readying himself to go to sleep it was getting dark after all. Yawning to himself Sousan lifts himself from his leather chair before forcing himself towards the stairs, his tired body beckoning for sleep. Tired he walks up the creaking floorboards, slowly under the weight of his body. Reaching the final step Sousan turns his head down the corridor seeing his son Matius rubbing his eyes in irritation. "can't you sleep?", Osaris questions noting Matius's unease. "Noo dad, I keep waking up in the middle of the night", Matius utters rubbing his eyes. "Well Matius",Osaris replied, "You've got to try and get some sleep, it's way past midnight". Osaris tired turns away from Matius, approaching his bedroom door. 

  “Father... before you go, please can tell me that story you was going to tell me?”, Matius questions. Osaris freezes by the door, turning to look back at Matius’s face. Sighing Osaris walks towards Matius accepting defeat, "Alright then...I'll tell you a story, but only one". Smiling Matius grabs Osaris's hand as he leads them to Matius's bedroom. In excitement Matius leaps onto the bed, pulling the bed covers over him. Osaris watches him smiling to hiself as he sits down on a stool. “Okay Matius... I will tell you a story. Well... about a man to be precise. A man with bravery, vision and belief”, Osaris explains as Matius moves eagerly in his bed. 

 

 “There once was a young man who lived on hell, a man of opportunity whose vision was clear as day. He lived with a poor family who barely living through their lives. Each passing day he felt hunger and strive, begging in the streets for food.  Many passers by ignored his pleads; others kind and pure hearted offered their help. At nights the young boy would cry to the gods that be in his sleep. Asking why he would be cursed this way, what had caused him to receive such judgment? His questions went unheard. He knew only one way to get change, to get the  salvation that he desired. In order to bring change, he had to make change himself. He had to become a man of legend, just like those erected in the Royal Palace of hell. With a sense of urgency he left his poor family travelling through the pouring rain, and through the scorching desert of the wildlands in search for help, a chance for his name to be heard. For him and his family”.

 “So what did he do?” Matius asks, tinged with interest. “After much walking he came across a traveller, wise and old. In words he spoke of one place where legends are held. In the libraries of heaven, where stories, secrets and weapons were kept. He travelled to heaven headstrong, nothing would surely sway him. He arrived in heaven with many eyes watching him. He felt small, fearful and very lost. He collapsed onto the grounds of heaven in frustration before a angel came before him. Seeing the boy nothing of a threat the angel guided the young boy to the sanctum of the Library of Ages. A place vast and ancient of knowledge, here he could find the answer. He searched though the library for days on end, each book giving him nothing but disappointment. Just when he began to lose faith a book fell down from the shelve above, lying face down for him to see. He pressed his fingers against the page in interest, finding a creature that he must come to face. “The alvara”, was the beast's name which dwells in the lands of the forgotten, hunting at night when there is no light to be seen. With his target set and with rekindled hope he set off back into the wildlands of hell”.

Matius turns towards his father, moving uncomfortably. “Dad... what are the wildlands?”, he asks turning towards his father in confusion. His father gives a smile, “Matius, the wildlands are a place where no feet tread, only the dammed and the forgotten rest there. It has relentless winds strong enough to peel the very flesh from your bones and creatures of the night who roam there”. “Anyway he made his way into the wildlands, step after difficult step. Cloaked and covered well in protection from the winds that blow and the creatures that bite. His feet became tired and torn but still he pressed on, heading towards his destiny. Ready to face the one thing that stood between his salvation.
  After several hours of restless walking he grew tired and waited for the sun to set and for the moon to rise. Tired the boy lit a fire for warmth, unaware of the danger it brought.

 In the rocks high above the Alvara watches in interest, its black soulless eyes fixed upon him, patiently waiting. The boy raises his head, hearing a scream in the wind. He shifts is gaze seeing his target in the rocks high above. It’s teeth bare dripping blood from a fresh kill, raring for it's next kill. The young boy watched the demon through the flickering flames of the fire, its eyes yearning for flesh. They both circled the firelight, waiting for a moment to strike. With it’s hunger the demon leaped high into the air, through the flames of the fire. With quick thinking the boy gripped his weapon tight and launched it at the beast. His aim was true, thrusting it deep into the demon’s throat. With the demon finally put to rest the boy carried the demon through the wild lands, through hell, through the streets where he was seen and finally through the corridors of the royal palace itself. Tired from exhaustion the boy collapsed in the Throne room itself with the skin of the Alvara for all those to see. Their eyes fixed upon the carcass of the defeated beast. The ruler raised his eyes in respect to the young stranger, who beckoned his men to raise the boy up to receive the honour he so desired”.

 

“What happened then” Matius asks still, “What happened next? Please please tell me!” Osaris gives a chuckle amused by Matius’s Enthusiasm. “Well Matius after his ordeal he and his family became renown and the young man became a legacy. Over the next few days his name spread and a statue was made in his honour placed in the royal throne courtyard. However as time passed new legends were born and made and the old ones were soon forgotten”. Matius leans forward lazily, "but what happened to him?” Osaris leans back uncomfortably, “Well he died of old age and his body was placed in one of the pillars in the palace hall so he would be remembered”. 

Author's Note

Ignore grammar mistakes.