In the middle of the swamp, too many miles away for comfort, there was a place called The Land of Angels. It is subject to hundreds of tales and theories. The most popular idea is told in classrooms and as bedtime stories to children. As the story goes," There once lived giant angels that protected the earth from threats, both external and internal. They would fly high above the heavens to fight off dangerous foe, then use those same strong wings to gently hold towns in their embrace, letting peace flow through the streets. One day, there was an invasion of earth. One too powerful to conquer by normal means. The angels sacrificed their power to cast a protective spell around the earth. Defeated, the invaders that survived the mighty blast left, and never came back. With their power diminished, the angels all fell to earth. Now, only their wings remain visible, turned to stone. They lay deep beneath the surface, awaiting the day for a hero to bring them back."
I was currently on my way to this sacred land. The moss covered the water, splitting around my boat as it passed. The boat itself was a small, on passenger boat. It was a faded brown, with the inside worn from use. Only the sound of my paddling water was heard. That is, until a few hours in, birds sang from behind the curtain of fog. Nothing could be seen beyond it, and the anticipation grew inside me. I paddled the boat faster, ripping through the moss covered water. When I reached the cloud, the air around me felt electric. Like a magnet, my boat continued to float through to the other side. It was even more magnificent than any tale could describe. Large wing-shaped boulders grew from the water, the tips caressed by the clouds. The already green moss turned vibrant, like a neon lime. I reached one wing and raised a hand to the rock.
Suddenly, the earth began to shake. Waves crashed at my boat. The rock statues began to move, causing bits to fall off into the water. I maneuvered my way through the rock crashing all around me. Finally, all was calm. Lifting my eyes, I saw the ten protector angels standing tall above me, feathered wings reaching out behind them. The story was true.
They looked down at me and a booming voice filled my ears. "Thank you, great warrior." Flying away, gusts of wind from their wings pushed me back. I stood dumbfounded as I watched the angels fly away. How could I be a hero?
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My Short Stories
Short StoryJust a collection of short stories that I wrote in Comp class. Out of all the stuff I've published, read this. I'm actually proud of some of the things in here.
