EXERCISE Myth-take Challenge #2

Discussion in 'REFINING WRITING' started by Lstorm, Nov 11, 2012.

  1. Myths and legends could be said to be the prototypes of modern novels. They are stories in their own right, tales that were passed on for generations. Even today, some elements from the old myths remain in our stories and occasionally, they serve as inspiration.

    This week’s mythical element is: Mjölnir

    Mjölnir is the hammer of Thor in Norse mythology, a fearsome weapon that could level mountains. Most often depicted as a hammer, Mjölnir is a masterpiece of a weapon that always strikes sure, and when thrown, it always returns to the hand of Thor. Yet the hammer's grip was unusually short because of Loki's interference with the forging, so Thor would have to use his iron gloves to wield it.

    Your challenge is to write a story that incorporates your own take on this mythical element. The genre and setting of the story does not matter as long as the element remains recognisable.
  2. Snow swirled violently as the cloaked, rugged man ascended the mountain side, wind whipping fiercely enough to push him away from his determined goal. It took a toll on the aging man, whose beard and hair, once a vibrant blonde, were now withered and gray. Besides, he wasn't a God anymore. He had given up that status to live among the mortals on the realm of Earth, but mainly to be with one mortal in particular, his wife, now recently deceased and himself growing closer to the same fate each day. His goal wasn't far now, and as he neared, a stamina long since forgotten began to fill him, he could feel it rushing through his bones. It was just a little touch of his Godly powers returning, and as he felt it, his pace quickened and his heart began to race.

    But then, he reached the mountain top and with youthful movement, a gloved hand shot out and grasped the handle of something buried in ice and snow. His armed raised, and Mjölnir was unsheathed from it's icy prison. Immediately, it was raised skyward and black clouds began to swirl in the air, electricity arcing amongst it. The weapon was grabbed by it's strap and spun, causing a large bolt of lightning to strike the man, and in that flash of light, become dressed in Asgardian armor his youth quickly returning to him as his hair once more shone it's glorious color and his skin seemed to reverse age into flawlessness. The man smiled and begin to chuckle, bringing the hammer up to his lips and placing a kiss upon it, welcoming it back for one last embrace.

    As the task in mind rushed back into his thoughts, his smile receded and he lowered his arm as he walked to the edge of the mountain and gazed down at the town it towered over. "Many a memory have occurred in the town below, old friend. I have cherished each one of them, the good and the bad, whilst I left you up here to slumber. But that time, much like mine, is over, and it's time you found yourself in hands worthy of the mighty god Thor himself." He brought the hammer up to his lips once more, as if to kiss it again, but instead, his voice dropped to a whisper. "It is time you crown the victor of this generation. Present yourself to he whoever shall be worthy to wield this hammer, and he shall become the next Thor."

    He smiled once more, a tear slowly rolling down his face as it began to age again, and he used the last ounce of his strength the toss the hammer towards the city below, before falling backwards, using his arms to stabilize himself on the cold ground. "Well, Sarah, it seems I will be joining you now. I can't wait." And with his parting words, he closed his eyes before his body began to glow a furious white, and his place was left a fully-grown Oak tree, deeply rooted into the mountain. Later, the mountain would come to be speculated on for it's seemingly immortal ability to thrive in such a cold, desolate place.​


    Cale was jolted awake from his sleep by a thunderous boom and a giant flash of light, as if lightning had just struck the street outside of his window. And his thinking wasn't exactly wrong, for as he scrambled out of his bed and to his bedroom window to look at the street below, there lay a crater, smoke and flames scattered about the destroyed paving. A gust of wind cleared the smoke momentarily, and Cale could partially make out what lay at the center of the crater. Something hammer shaped, attached to a short, black handle. He rushed downstairs and out the door, much like a child would rush to the Christmas tree on the morning of the very holiday himself, and stepped into the street, at least, what was left of it.

    He clambered down the rubble, his sense of curiosity and adventure filling him to the brim and he slid down the portion of the crater that came to a drop. He approached Mjölnir, not yet learning of it's name or origin, but with intent to find out. Like Arthur, he reached forward to pull the sword (or in this case, the hammer) from the stone and succeeded, unknowingly crowning himself King (or in this case, a God). A bolt of lightning struck, clouds whirled, and Cale found himself dressed in similar armor Thor himself had been in not even an hour previously. He smiled as his role and the name of the weapon came to him, and raised Mjölnir to the sky.

    The night ended with another flash of lightning, a new-found God, and a sinister horned shadow being cast onto the ground.