Note: This isn't usually the type of thing I write, but here it is anyway. I entered this in a contest...still haven't heard anything though. Every time I read it over I change it a little bit but i'm still not happy with it so suggestions are WELCOME! Anyway - enjoy :D

            Listen to my story. I have traveled the world; seen wonders; witnessed kings ascend and fall; tasted oceans and scaled the highest mountains, yet this is the tale I tell. The story is simple, but the thing we can learn: priceless.

            Not long ago, a beast did roam across the moors. Great and terrible it was, with eyes of flame and jaws of iron. All feared it, even the knights that were sworn to protect the people. Many a man set off with his sword drawn and his shield at the ready to destroy the accused monster. But not one of those brave warriors ever came back and their women still weep for them. Even the king was frightened at the roars from the creature echoing over his great city. His heart weakened inside him at the thought of having to meet the beast in battle, yet he knew something had to be done.

            So the king swore to himself that the innocent would be protected. Walls were raised around his city, watch-men assigned to high towers, and the great gate closed forever. The creature could not come in and the people could not go out. The city he built was to be forever closed until there arose a warrior who knew where the strength lay that was needed to vanquish the Monster of Loch Cliodhna [CLEE-uh-nuh] for all eternity.

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            Years passed and the people inside the city became restless. The food was hard and stale; the water was stagnate in the great fountain; the cows had no more green fields to graze on and even the dogs grew skinny. Babies cried in the homes and mud from the streets colored everything. The city the king had built was no longer a shining landmark of power, but a lifeless mud-hole.

            Eventually, the king grew ill and nothing could be found in the city to cure him. The people mourned together for their king; and great wailing was heard while the church bells tolled. The king lay in his bed with his daughter kneeling beside him and wept at the sounds that rose from his people’s lips. He wished that he possessed the courage and strength to deliver his people and open the gates forever.

            While the elders of the city met with heavy hearts in the great council chamber that day, a young man was brought in to stand before them. Padraic, the son of a coppersmith, was a noble lad, brave and strong, although he still had much to learn.

            “I come before you now to ask for permission to go beyond our city walls and defeat this monster that is a curse upon our land.” he announced.

            “The gates are sealed tight and you are not trained for battle against this creature,” was the slow but firm reply.

            “I may be but a coppersmith’s son, but at least I have the courage that everyone else seems to lack,” Padraic spat at them. The men around him jumped to their feet, their hands on their swords and shouts of rage filling the room until one of the eldest leaders spoke.

            “How dare you insult us as well as your King?! It is because of his wisdom that the walls were built and we have not all been eradicated by the dragon beyond them.”

            Padraic lifted his head and stared straight into the eyes of the men before him, “I have lived my whole life behind these walls. I can see the blue sky beyond; smell the breezes coming off the loch; I can hear the birds singing in the trees that grow beyond; I have climbed to the top of the wall and seen a land that is alive, not dead like this ‘safe’ mud-hole we live in. It is ours for the taking yet we cower because of a dumb beast that circles us. It is time for us to stop hiding like children and take back our lands.” The men around the boy nodded slowly, but the anger at his conceited proposition still showed in their faces. “I will never rest until those gates are opened forever…do I have your consent?”

            One by one they nodded their heads while the eldest of their assembly again spoke, “We agree, but you must first speak with the king.”

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            The king lay on his deathbed, a shadow of the leader he had once been. His voice was halting as he spoke.

            “I have always wanted to do what you have asked permission for today, but I would do it for a different reason. You want it for yourself, to prove that you, a coppersmith’s son, can rise above.” He paused and looked into the face of his subject. “I only want my people to be free. Go now, but remember, the only way you can win is by putting your fate before God Almighty and imploring Him to guide your sword; He does not care about station.”

            So Padraic left the castle in the finest armor the king possessed, but with pride still filling his heart.

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            The monster had sprung out of the loch on that first day and a terrible fight ensued. Finding a place between two rocks, he was once again safe from the creature’s wrath. As weeks of failure went by, a great despair consumed him. This day he knew that he would either defeat the beast or fall into the heather himself, never to move again.

            Teeth passed near his head; he ducked, blinking water out of his eyes. The mud under his boots was slick as he scrambled beyond those snapping jaws. The creature’s breath was on his heels; his strength was giving out; safety loomed before him.

            He dove into his sanctuary and waited. The beast and the death his jaws brought had never been so close. He remembered the words of his king. I only wanted to see my people free. Padraic realized his desires were nothing. The only way you can win against the monster is by putting your fate before God Almighty…and imploring Him to guide your sword. The boy lowered his head and prayed.

            “Guide my sword, Lord, and deliver my people. Create in me a heart of humility that I may no longer serve the want for renown, but a desire to serve You.” He lifted his face and readied his sword. The beast outside roared and he caught sight of the single spot of vulnerability on his prey. With a cry to his Lord, he shot out of the rock and drove the shining sword into the creature’s heart. It trembled but a moment and fell dead at his feet.

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            The gates to the kingdom were opened and the city again flourished. The king was borne to the field and with his daughter looking on, he laid his sword on the lad’s shoulder and spoke these words, “Man alone cannot defeat the beasts that trap us, it is only through God that we can truly win the battle,”

            The tale may change over time, but the truth never will. Thus ends the story.