Tell Our Story (A Fiction Story I Wrote)

        "Tell our story. ", was the command given through the generations, from each generation. "Tell who we were. Tell what we've done. Tell how this changes the present age it is being told in.", each spokesman for each era would issue to the future generations to come. This is where I'd always struggle, wondering what to tell exactly, or even where to begin. "Would I tell it right, express it well, or would I fail miserably?", questions that often stopped me for many years. How would I share of our ancient mystical origins?

          I'd reflect on long days where the labor was rough, first for others, then for me. I take in the remarkable ingenuity and determination found in every single endeavor taken, where trees were cut down to make way for life, life for us and others. Beyond our unique stamina it was truly magical (something we witnessed among our ancient sorcerers). We always enjoyed the world around us, and were thankful for what was provided; yet all our skill was truly put to good use after our conquering days as pillagers, plunderers, and ruthless warriors was left behind and we took up a new mantle: builders of towns and peoples; no longer destroying but constructing a better way and a more noble legacy. We would raze only our wicked appetites of our very souls. Long days of tall trees being brought down, stories told around meals. Lunches, dinners, even breakfast meals all were filled with community and tales of our people.

        "Tell our story." I'd think, and so I did, sharing of our dark days as the villains of the outside world, one we sought to dominate then. Now as people who use what was once for evil now for good. Of the many tales of our wisest of elders and our most foolish of people, passed down through the years. Here I'd tell of our many projects we made from what we came across, from our clothing and cookware to our ships and eventually our cities, homes and businesses that we would later build; ones for us as well as for others when we stopped trying to rule the world and be a benefit to it instead. Our dark days would only serve as a reminder to build instead of destroy, to remember that we may never return to those wicked days. I still remember the sweet smells of potluck meals and some sort of meat that was placed before us (always meat for some reason). I remember and I enjoyed our various outdoor games (and when it was raining indoor games) that we managed to still uphold in our ways even amid long hard days of logging work. We were Vikings, now we give back rather than take, lift up and hold up the weak when they cannot stand, and remind all those around us that we all began as something else, and can become what we were meant for: those who would be able to empower others around them rather than conquer them. "Tell our story, that others may know that darkness does not win, and from such an evil, good can come... even from Vikings of old like we were.”; where we tell of an ancient “magic” called selfish living that no longer holds us in our evil that once imprisoned us.

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