(Short Story -XVI.) *The Hero*

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Forgotten Dreams of Eternity: Lost Odyssey: Thousand Years of Dreams

Copyright © 2011 Sky_Knight

(Short Story -XVI.)

*The Hero*

The hero was home from the war.

He had performed gallantly on the battlefield, advanced to the rank of general, and made a triumphal entry into the village of his birth.

The villagers welcomed him with a festive celebration. The grown-ups were treated to drinks beginning in the afternoon, and the children received sweet confections. The cattle and sheep in the pastures that supported the villagers' livelihood, whether because they were excited by the unusual commotion or were welcoming the hero in their own way, sent especially shrill cries reverberating into the blue summer sky.

"General, you are the pride of our village!"

Obviously full of pride himself, the head of the village thrust out his chest as he delivered his congratulatory address in the welcoming ceremony. "To think that the foremost hero in the army came from this tiny village is so incredibly exhilarating and gratifying. I am sure our ancestors are overjoyed as well!" The throng crammed into the village square burst forth with cheers and applause.

"According to the official figures released by the army the other day, General, you brought down at least two thousand enemy soldiers with your own hand."

A thunderous roar shook the square.

"Come to think of it, the population of this village is less than a thousand. This means, Sir, that you managed to bury more than two of these villages' worth on your own. How fortunate for us that you were not one of the enemy! If by any chance there had been a warrior of your caliber on their side, we'd be resting in the hilltop graveyard by now!"

A few of the women frowned momentarily at this remark, but the men, full of liquor, responded with and explosive laugh.

Sitting stage center, the general lightly stroked his dignified beard. No one present knew that this was his habit whenever he was perplexed. When he left his village to join the army, he was just and ordinary soldier a long way from growing a beard.

"General, you are truly the savior of our army and, indeed, of our entire nation. I understand you will be leaving for another battle tomorrow, but we all hope that you thoroughly enjoy yourself on this rare visit to your birthplace!"

The village chief ended his greetings and withdrew to the wings, whereupon the village's number one entertainer bounded onto the stage in the most comical way he could manage.

"Dear General!" he cried, runing over to where the great man was seated and going down on his knees, "Oh, hear my plea!"

The general looked at him uncertainly.

"is there any possibility that you would lend me the sword at your side, if only for a moment?"

Perplexed though he was by all this, the general, impelled by the audience's applause and cheers, handed the man his tasseled and jewel-encrusted sword.

The man bowed deeply as the sword entered his outstretched hands and again he cried, "My gratitude knows no bounds!" Pretending to stagger under the weight of the sword, he came to the front edge of the stage and held the weapon aloft.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, I will re-enact the event that raised our dear General's fame to the heights in a single bound--When he hacked eighteen of the enemy into little teeny tiny bits!"

The audience cheered wildly, and the man, with exaggerated movements and commentary, swung the sword in a great arc. The audience knew exactly what he was doing. The general had not only made a name for himself for his strategic prowess but was also widely acclaimed as a warrior on the battlefield. He did not rely solely on his weapons but, in the end, leveled his opponents with his sheer physical strength. This, too, was a matter of the utmost pride for the villagers.

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