Myth Stories Novels & Stories

I know that sounds a bit childish but after the day I had yesterday I thought I deserved that few seconds of release. I started to wonder last night before bed if the Moon Goddess was punishing me for something I did, but I thought long and hard and couldn’t come up with one thing that would cause her to punish me. I also tried to remember all the stories my mother had told me about the white wolves when I was a child. The stories my mother would tell me seemed more like a fairy tale bedtime story nothing that was a real-life story.

“Do you like fantasy?” “Like dragons and Lord of the Rings stuff? No. I don’t think of the Greek gods as fantasy. I think of them as history.” He looked surprised. “So, you believe in it all?” I shrugged. “I don’t know that I don’t believe in it. I think you have to wonder where the stories came from. Every myth stems from something. What sparked the stories? And it is so elaborate. It would have taken a mastermind to just make up this whole world of people and give them each a story.”

Gabriel would kill me if he knew. “Well there are a lot of myths and stories told for so many generations and cultures I’d like to believe those kinds of things are true. There are dragon stories from Chinese mythology and then you have the medieval knights fighting dragons. Sometimes I wish I was there to witness for myself what these people were actually seeing for those kinds of myths to told for so long. It’s very interesting.”

Talk of ‘spirits separated from their bodies’ reminded him of Ashkan and the ruined remains of the other men. “All myth starts as story,” said the driver. “Sometimes we call the story history, sometimes religion, eventually it all becomes myth. Beneath every myth is an ancient tale, a hidden belief that gives shape and form to every god that’s ever received a prayer on a dark and lonely night.” “Okay, now you’re getting wa-ay deep. Does this ‘ancient belief’ have a name then?” “It’s had many names, in every language ever spoken. Some call it ‘the Oldest Truth,’ others—the ‘Faith that Came before Man.’”

Tears form at the corners of her eyes and she clutches her stomach. "Oh my Goddess!" She sputters out. "You almost got me there." When I don't say anything, she wipes her eyes and shakes her head. "No girl, it can absolutely not be true! That's like a classic wolf bedtime story, my mom used to tell it to us when we were kids. " "Is it though?" I ask her. "Why do you think you couldn't hit me back at the school?" She continues to shake her head ferociously. "Maybe your parents told you that because you look the way you do. I must admit you fit the description to a T. But a White Wolf? Impossible!"

I say, "Something that no-one else knows...." She twists to look up at me, forehead puckering. ".... Tell me something, that when I think about it, will just be mine; a little piece of you that no-one else has." Understanding dawns. Her expression goes distant for a moment, her gaze outward again, and empty; then turning back, she looks up into my face. "When I was a little girl, we didn't have a lot of books, but all the ones we had, I read. And my favourites were always the old myths and fairy tales; stories about Greek and Roman and Egyptian gods, Norse warriors and ice giants in the north, Hans Christian Anderson, Brothers Grimm, all that sort of thing....

She laughed and thought to herself "my weakness is teachers". -Well, I already told you my whole life story. Of course, when she told her life story she didn't include Gabriel. -Well look my life is not that interesting it is very common I have a family that does not live here my family is European I came to visit this country and I stayed here my family is a very traditionalist family they come from time to time to see me and I also go there from time to time I have two more brothers they live with my parents and I am a professor at several universities, so as you see my life is not very interesting.

'I bet there are thousands of mythological books' I thought, I looked around as much as I could while Hades carried me. ''You love books, don't you?'' He commented as he weaved his way through shelf after shelf of books, following Lachesis. ''No, just mythological books,'' I replied ''The underworld is the source of all mythological books and stories.'' Hades huffed. ''Are you not serious?'' I asked in disbelief. ''Do you know the myth of Cerberus?'' He asked. ''Of course. He's the Greek hellhound. It's one of the most famous myths'' I replied.

"Okay we need to get down to business, what would the story be, why did you have to come and live with us? "Wait, why do I have to have a story?" "Fletcher knows that I'm a Mythical, but he can’t know that you or Gia are one too." "Wait, you said Gia is your Cousin, why does she have a story?" I ask, something about this Gia girl rubs me the wrong way.

It wouldn't hurt to briefly look around. All I had to guide me were the rumors and myths about the Fae and their realm. The problem with myths, is that you never know what might be real. Myth says the Fae can't lie, but no one has ever been able to prove that. Out of all the legends I knew, there was one fact. Monsters came from this realm, some harboring magic while others had claws, fangs, or poison. All were deadly, and all caused death when they managed to find a portal and cross over. Remembering all of the myths I knew, I suddenly felt very exposed. My eyes darted around the clearing, looking as far into the forest as I could.