In a world of magic...
Long before i was born, Wars of Mages brought lots of sorrow. Then those Mages who were left concluded a peace. They swore to wash away their guilt by bringing happiness to mere mortals and making their inmost wishes come true. Since they had lived in the Soaring Castle. It is their job to ensure all mortals happiness. And I am one of them.
I’ve been an outcast all my life. The elder sorcerers tried not to notice me; those who were the same age despised me openly by calling me half-blooded after my father had gone expelled. Does the fact that my mother was a common women have to mean that I am a monster?
I don’t have a family or friends anymore, that is why i have devoted my life to studying magic. I had to work hard and it was just owing to my diligence and discipline that I could to through the whole process of studying. And now I should prove that I also have a right to be among them.
Today, Archimagician proclaimed that he is looking for a successor. Anyone can participate in a contest that will start in tree days. To win this contest, you must gather 4 ancient relics. Igness, the prettiest and best sorcerer in the land did not lose her chance to mock at me and proposed me as a participant. I was so lost that I could not say anything back.
What do I do now? Among all these powerful sorcerers I will be a laughing-stock. Probably I should turn down this proposal tomorrow.
While i was not home, my house was invaded by a stranger. He walked in, made himself at home, sat down in front of the table while his face was covered by a mysterious hood. The stranger told me I should take part in the contest and he promised to help me.
He took out a map and pointed at a place where on...
... middle of paper ...
... his face for a split second...I finally knew who he was.
The strange in a hood was Richard.
As my father and I went into town to fight off more misery for the mortals, there was a cloud that we have been fighting off for two days, but it still returns. Exhausted, I was ready to drop, but the cloud continued to grow. Covering town after town. When it seemed to me that it was hopeless, I saw a bright blue spot in the sky. From cloud to could, they were finally clearing up.
The hardest part was closing the box. The box that took us to our world, our home. It has to be closed to ensure happiness for everyone, forever. Near it, everyone felt so miserable that even powerful sorcerers were sobbing and sank into the ground unable to come closer to it. It was only me and Archimagician who managed to come close enough to shut the box’s cover forever.
I wish to submit an essay entitled “A Refugee’s Inescapable Trials and Tribulations” for consideration in the Outcasts United: An American Town, a Refugee Team, and One Woman’s Quest to Make a Difference Essay Contest.
Rays of golden sunlight were piercing the blue sky. Today was a hot day. There had been no rain in the last month. A young child was playing in the field while his father was harvesting the crops. The boy was playing among the newly harvested golden vegetables. There were a lot more vegetables than he remembered from years past. The boy knew they were going to sell most of this harvest. Where are the other plants that he remembered? Why was corn the only thing growing? Why is it in straight lines instead of winding around the property like it normally did? He pondered these questions on the way to school. Today, unlike normal, his teacher let him out of school early. Though he thought nothing of it at the time the sky was turning dark. It was almost like a monster ate the sun. Not only was it getting dark the wind started to blow. The wind sound like a wolf howling at a full moon. When he reached his house, his father rushed him inside. The first of many dust storms hit and the period known as the Dust Bowl began.
According to Merriam Webster’s dictionary, a monster is a “strange or horrible imaginary creature”. But monsters don’t necessarily need to be fictional; even humans can be monsters. The only thing that distinguishes us from fictional monsters are our appearances, human-monsters are hard to detect. Therefore, it’s easy to treat people based on their appearances since the human mind gets deceived by looks.
Halfway up it was beginning to look doubtful, the wind was picking up and everyone was getting out rain gear to prepare for the storm. I voiced my doubts to Phil and he said we might as well keep going until the lighting got too close. So we did. The thunder grew in volume and the echoes magnified the noise to a dull roar sometimes. Then suddenly it began to ebb. The wind died down and lightening came less frequently. I exchanged relieved looks with Phil after a bit, but kept the pace up--I didn’t want to take chances. Eventually it hit us, but by then it was nothing more then a heavy rain. We kept moving, if slower, and made it over the ridge with no other problems. That night I enjoyed the meal a little more and slept a little deeper realizing how much is important that easily goes unnoticed until something threatens to take it away.
“His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same color as the dun-white sockets in which they were set, his shriveled complexion and straight black lips,” would be classified as a monster.
The drops of water tickled my nose for the first time as the golden sun threatened to tear into the gloomy, pillow-like clouds. Why would the government keep us from this? The weather control prevented rain, snow, or any weather without fail for one hundred years. For some reason, the rain help me feel at peace. I marched downstairs and out the door in my government issued night clothes toward my best friend, Wren’s, house. On the way there I heard a muffled cry near the bushes, behind her house. The leaves cracked and rattled as Wren threw a ball of paper at me.
Through my tired eyes, I observed a feathery white cloud float across the sky and obscure the radiant sun. We were almost home and I could not get the haunting thoughts out of my head.
Then the Sky Spirit took his walking stick, stepped from a cloud to the peak, and walked down to the mountain. When he was about halfway to the valley below, he began to put his finger to the ground here and there, here and there. Wherever his finger touched, a tree grew. The snow melted in his footsteps, and the water ran down in rivers.
I was woke up to a banging at my door. A glimpse at the alarm clock told me it was 7:00 in the morning and I knew exactly who it was banging at my door. Disgruntled and half asleep I stumbled to the door to open it.
Uninterrupted, I felt like floating all night. Just before the light of the day presented itself, I was staring from the terrace of the plaza that housed the temple and its stupa at the visible dense fog below that was pierced by the sporadic lights of the village that was waking up. While the day made its timid, slow entrance, the dissipating fog revealed the roofs of the houses below and the chanting inhabitants, who were walking up the 365 steps. Their voices gradually grew louder step by step until it reached and permeated the square where I was temporarily residing.
To tell you anything about this game, we must start from the beginning. It all started with a war. It was a war between humans and monsters. The humans wanted the monster’s land so they could expand and own everywhere. It is never told where this story takes place, but I have been told to assume it is in the Rockies. The monsters lost the war and were forced back into a mountain, where they were sealed away forever. Anyone could get in, but no one could get out. It was told there was a need for seven human souls in order to break the spell, and all the souls of the monsters in the underground and ruins would only equal to one soul. The humans had something the monsters didn’t, a thing called, “Determination”. Years passed and the underground evolved, making an entire world beneath the earth.
We stopped at an overnight rest area 40 kilometres past Longreach and set up camp for the stormy night to come. While we were waiting for dinner to be cooked a few of us stood around the fire watching the huge black clouds rumbling in. Blinding, flashing, terrifying bolts of light dancing across the sky like a frenzy of fish. Lightning. The whole sky lights up and for a few brief moments it appears day.
The drive from the airport to the funeral home was long. At one point, the sky opened up and warm rain poured down. With the wipers endlessly brushing at the drops, we drove up to the funeral home. In the darkness it looked like a...
This will be an experience I could never forget! The fields below were like a crazy quilts, patches of; green, yellow, reddish, and brown spreading as far one can see. The sky is a vibrant blue color, so beautiful and crisp. The fluffy white clouds are scattered across the blue sky, they are so close now that I feel as if I can just reach out and touch one.
To each individual the term monster has a diverse meaning. For some, the word represents a creature with immense fangs or long coarse hair. For others, the word monster could resemble a terrible person who commits horrific acts of crime, or even just someone who is rude towards others. More often than not, the image that the word creates is a frightening figure with characteristics that are not thought of as normal. In the Oxford Dictionary, a monster is described as “a large, ugly, and frightening imaginary creature.” Individuals seen as these horrific creatures, are judged more harshly on their appearances than how they behave towards others. If it is ugly or scary, then it is thought that it must be a monster.