Mythology Stories Novels & Stories

And Kilano replied 'my love, it would be an honor to have you by my side'. I close my eyes, letting the flames die as I hug my knees to my chest. "Do you think it's true?" "What?" I ask, my voice muffled by my arm. "The stories of the gods, do you think they're true?" "Yes," I reply. "Really?" I shrug a little to myself. "Kilano's daughter would have been my great great grandmother so the stories may have been changed a little but it would be difficult to create a completely new myth with so few of generations," I sigh.

Leah also gave a look of disapproval. "Callie, I agree with them. I just wasted my time." I got up when I remembered that I was on my way to the garden. "What? Those stories are pretty lame, to begin with." "Not when nana tells them." The kids retorted. Nana arrived soon to tell a different version of the first werewolf that happened in Egypt where people considered shapeshifting a gift and not a curse. I grew up listening to nana's stories, about demon kings and dragon queens and all things fantasy. My all-time favorite was the story of my mother, except for the part where she dies.

They thought I would match the goddess of wisdom, Athena. Unfortunately, from all those meaningful meanings, I only got stuck with one—courage. My mom's Greek so she used to tell me stories about mythology when I was little but I myself, don't really give a damn about Greek mythology. I only know one though, Cupid which is Eros and Eros which is Cupid. Make sense.

Other stories were mere myths that were intended to scare children or dissuade them from doing a particular thing. The stories told, usually differed from one village to another, as did their gods, but a few were generally held and respected by all. One myth in Umuoku that was known only to the members of the village was a story about using a broom to sweep. If a child or an adult mistakenly uses the sharp edges of a broom to pierce someone, it was believed that the victim who was in contact with the edges of the broom was at risk, and may suffer a terrible disease unless the person who caused his or her predicament, raises the broom high and pierced its edges towards the earth to cleanse th

Eros said. “Well, that’s just awesome. Not only am I a Goddess, excuse me, a New Goddess but there are also Werewolves and Vampires out there. Anything else I need to know?” I asked putting my head in my hands. I could feel a headache coming on. “Most Myths are real.” Hades said. “Thanks.” I said giving him my best side eye. “You’re welcome.” He said, not understanding my sarcasm. “Aria.” My sister warned.

Lilith whispered, “Wasn't that the name of a goddess, the one of forgetfulness?” “Yes, that's correct... You know one and two things about Greek mythology?” “Yes— my mother, Catherine... She and my dad, well— you know what I mean, they would tell me mini-stories about Gods and Goddesses, but I guess they are no longer stories... Or myths, because now they are my only hope of surviving the supernatural,” “Is there any part in those little stories that explain how we get across at nights?” I intervened, “What do you mean, they are just a bunch of souls who don't remember themselves, it doesn't seem that complicated to me,” Lilith shrugged her shoulders,

It was beating wildly in my chest. My dad took another deep breath before he started speaking again. “Lycans and werewolves are two mythological creatures that have been around for centuries. They have unique abilities, strengths, and weaknesses, but they both share the same origin story: the moon goddess created them to rule beside humans.” He paused and looked at me to make sure I was following his story. I nodded, my mind spinning with this new information. His words mesmerized me—it all seemed so impossible, yet somehow, I felt an odd connection to the stories he was telling me.

"With the goddess being forced to destroy her brother to protect the world from endless night." A chill ran through me at his words. "That's what she meant by 'the unthinkable.' She...I might have to destroy my own brother." "No," Kane said firmly, his hand tightening on my shoulder. "Those are just stories, myths created to explain natural phenomena. You and your brother are flesh and blood, not cosmic forces."

"I haven't. And if I have it doesn't matter. Sometimes Old Nan would tell the same story she'd told before, but we never minded, if it was a good story. Old stories are like old friends, she used to say . You have to visit them from time to time." "That's true." Meera walked with her shield on her back, pushing an occasional branch out of the way with her frog spear. Just when Bran began to think that she wasn't going to tell the story after all, she began, "Once there was a curious lad who lived in the Neck. He was small like all crannogmen, but brave and smart and strong as well. He grew up hunting and fishing and climbing trees, and learned all the magics of my people." Bran was almost ce

For that… could kill them. The little orphans of the slums bundled together, a hand for each ear. They remembered the old myth and deemed it the cause. It was one of the oral folktales of Antacast, passed from one generation to another. The demigods of lightning and thunder fighting again for the wind goddess’ favor, as the old tales had told.