A Short Story : The Story Of Alsandair

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Long ago in east Ireland, there was a young boy named Alsandair. Alsandair was a skinny and awkward boy with short, fiery red hair and shiney hazel eyes. He was the smallest boy in the village at his age and everyone picked on him including his father, the mayor. Alsandair was picked on about almost everything about him including his weak arms and legs, his neat untangled hair, his awkward stance, and his overall lack of manliness. Everyone in the town had a leisure activity that they enjoyed to do during their free time, most of which were athletic. Some of the most popular ones are horseback riding, horseback racing, running through the woods, and sword fighting. Due to his lack of athletic ability Alsandair couldn’t do any of these things, but there was one thing he secretly loved to do, archery. Each morning, Alsandair would wake up so he could sneak out to the woods so he could practice. He wanted to keep his hobby a secret to escape the certain ridicule from everyone if they were to discover it, so no one knew about his passion, or how good he actually was at it. While all these things were happening, far away in the land of Gods, Dagda and Morrigan had gotten into mighty argument. Morrigan believed the humans didn’t deserve the gifts the Gods had bestowed upon them while Dagda thought they should still receive these gifts. “They don’t understand the importance of the things and they don’t respect them enough!” Morrigan exclaimed. “Then I will teach them” Dagda

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