A Hero's Journey Short Story

A beam of early morning sunlight played on his face. He turned and scooted to another part of the bed in order to avoid waking. Within a few minutes the beam of sunlight had caught up with him again and was shining again directly on his eyelids. He lay there, his head in a fog, rubbed his eyes and stared at the white plastered walls trying to determine where he was and even who he was. The brightness of the room overwhelmed him with a fierce intensity. It was a few minutes before his eyes became accustomed to the light. He entertained his semi-waking mind by tracing patterns of the earthy colors on the tapestry that hung on the wall facing him. He rubbed his hands slowly on the bedsheet, felt a smoothness and said to himself, "This

Though few literary templates have been able to stand the test of time, the Hero’s Journey, or “monomyth”, has the distinction of being present in the literature and mythology of almost every single culture that has possessed written language. The term “monomyth” was coined by Joseph Campbell, an American mythological research, in his book entitled The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Since his groundbreaking analysis and compilation, thousands of writers, directors, and producers have applied the basic elements of the monomyth to their own media. One of the most successful applications of the monomyth to a non-literary medium are the Star Wars films, originally created by George Lucas. The most recent addition to the Star Wars saga was released

There I was sitting at the table eating what the nuns like to call food what just looked like to me slop I was sitting with my friend Felix. He came across a carrot and it was a full-size carrot he just sat there and stared at it not even touching it if he did not hurry up and I was going to grab it and eat it.

A few months later, I found myself riding with Halt back to his quaint little cottage nestled in the woods. He was teaching me about animal tracks. As our horses tread against the snow that lay on the ground, I noticed a massive print next to the cottage, and Halt said it was a giant boar. A man was lying in the bushes and came out to claim that he had seen the boar first hand, and that it was a mad and destructive one. Halt told him to go to the castle and tell the Baron to gather a group of men so that we can all go hunt the boar in the morning. The next day, I found myself on horseback on the outside of a circle of warriors, and Horace. If the boar were to escape through our circle, I was to chase it down and finish it off with my bow.

“Run!” the little boy cried. The roman soldiers came attacking at village and killing 2 dozen men and women. The little boy was named Damon. His father is a god, his name was Mercury, the god of speed. Damon was just a demigod.

“Small town big heart,” they say locked away behind their cold immaculate castle gates that rest on the remains of the previous farmland and plains. The collective heart beats but only at a convenient time suiting parties involved. “A place where everyone matters,” they utter as their motto in indistinguishable monotone voices. The people are too wrapped up in their everyday lives to ever be concerned about their neighbor, they look through life with gilded glasses. It’s as if a fog had descended slowly creeping into their view distorting what they once held most dear.

Months later she told me what actually went through her mind that day. She told me how her legs began to shake when she discovered who it was. She was an equestrian as well and had seen her share of accidents at horse shows. When she first heard the news, she thought it was someone else; then she learned it was her best friend.

Cal walked through a trail in the woods during the last gasps of dying summer. Browning ferns brushed against his jeans while he paced. The trail was overgrown and undefined, and Cal stomped through sticks and tree branches to make his way through. He emerged through the thicket into a clearing for a power line route. He saw the old derelict boat, his family’s boat, nested in its 30 year resting place. He walked up to it and put his hands on the giant steering wheel and looked down at the undergrowth of plants at its base. Traditionally, the end of august was prime huckleberry season. And the base of the old boat was traditional grounds for some sizeable huckleberry bushes. When he was younger, Cal, his sister and cousin would bring buckets

At this point, Mia continues to follow the hero’s journey into the stage initiation. The initiation has more stages than any other part of the hero’s journey. Instead of facing challenges and trials, Mia begins with a mentor. Her mentor is her grandmother, Queen Clarisse. She teaches her all the things she needs to know about the royal world. Clarisse gives her a full makeover and excuses her for all her absences. Going into challenges and trials, Mia is faced with losing her best friend. She has the chance to become popular and fit in with everyone else but, she has to overcome the fame and all the attention. Leading into temptation she accepts an invitation to Josh Bryant’s beach party, who is the most popular boy in school and it was a dream

“Then you must take up your well-shaped oar and go on a journey until you come where there are men living who know nothing of the sea,” said Teiresias, a famous blind prophet.

Charity and the children left Marilee's amid warm hugs and wishes for a safe journey. The girls especially, were reluctant to leave. They enjoyed being at Marilee's, having the luxuries of a roof over their heads and not stuck riding in a wagon all day. Charity figured being there reminded them of being home with Nancy, because Marilee took them under her wing and into the kitchen with her to help her cook. The boys were a different story- they were raring to go; they enjoyed camping out and being on the trail. To them, it was a grand adventure. The last couple of years, the older boys had gone with their father and grandfather, to check the traps. And, they had even gotten to go to Fort Charlotte a time or two. But the girls had always been

Three grueling days of marching. until we arrived at a small village. To the center plaza we marched, many of the frightened and confused villagers had gathered there. The legate leading the legion began reading a memoir written by a team of scouts on the horrid atrocities the Hunnic hordes have committed. We needed their support in the fight so they would agree to supply us with the provisions that had been rapidly depleting. Just before he had finished a scout rode into the plaza bloodied and battered he warned us of the Huns and there overwhelmingly large force before finally dying of his injuries. The villagers began to panic and some fled with their belongings. The Legate tried to comfort them telling them we can ensure their safety. We fortified the town built an castra. It was all we could do. Later that evening after I took a small excursion I could see the torches and the yurts atop the craggy mountain. It also became apparent that the terrain advantage they had could not be overcome by our inferior numbers. Evan so the legate informed us we would begin marching on the hill the next morning. I couldn't sleep knowing that death awaited us the at dawn. I went to the mess hall for a hiatus. While there a centurion asked me to take his shift at night watch. I humbly complied.

As we arrived at Gareth Fisher’s ranch, we pulled up to his modest home and hopped out of our vans. We were running late and he briefly introduced himself before we got back into the van and drove off to see some of the cattle. We were driving through these gorgeous green hills before we turned off on a dirt road and pulled next to a herd of a couple of hundred cattle in a corral. I thought this part was so interesting because the cattle stared right at us as we exited the van. They were as curious and tense as we were. At this point, Gareth started explaining more about his operation and how he started as a rancher. He told us that he actually does not own the land, but leases it from the State of California. He is allowed to use this land

The relevant data was brought to him on a tablet soon afterwards, the Replicator informed him it was the Planetary Governors and now it belonged to him. It was more powerful than the others, with this tablet he could access any console or any Ustrian tech he came into contact with, not just tech on the Xerxes. The data pile was immense, it would take him forever and a day to read it. After only a few hours of skimming through it he put it aside and rubbed his eyes, it was starting to give him a headache.

Screams filled the air. Only then did Jessie Grant realize they were his. He had been having this dream for some time, his dad’s and mom’s death. Before they boarded a cruiser when he was seventeen, his parents were his best friends, now he had nothing.