A Hero's Journey Chapter 1

Hunter steps back and smirks as Carter climbs to his feet and brushes off his clothes. Carter resists the urge to trip hunter as he runs toward the beach and up to Hillcrest. Carter walks up the dirt hill to the chapel. The path winds through the woods and the roots of the closely grown trees are used in place of stairs. Carter arrives at the chapel. They don’t use the space as often as they should. It is simple with large screen windows, a plain wooden cross, and unadorned altar at the front. They sing inside occasionally, but the campers often don’t care for the building, they find it oppressive. Carter pauses at the top of the hill. Surveying the camp spread out below him,

Francis explains it's an old burial spot, that may even be old than him. While talking to Liam and Beckah the inflection of Francis' voice has a fearful quality. He tells the children to flee from this place. Through his special vision, Liam saw another spirit approaching. Liam realized the spirit was Fenris. Fenris attempts to grab Liam by the scruff, while simultaneously yelling, "Bring it to me, find it and bring it to me" Fenris also mentioned his brother in his rage-filled speech. Shortly after this outburst both spirts disappear and the day turn normal. Liam shared with the rest of the group what he just witnessed. They then decide to split up to question others in the town about Fenris' family.

Nebs pounded on the bridge door furiously with her hooves. She knew it was futile effort, but she persisted.

The horse ran past Samuel, once he got close, heading back to the road. Samuel was finally close enough to see the mans face, “It’s a runaway?” The Captain wouldn’t respond, maybe he just didn’t

17. Malcolm orders the men to “throw down” their “leavy screens” and attack the castle. General Siward will lead the first battle, along with his son Malcolm and Macduff will finish up “what else remains to do.”

On the cot, he would have been, in some sense, “ours”: an object of pity, an accident victim, “the noble red man, the last of his race.” But on the floor Crazy Horse was Crazy Horse still. On the floor, he began to hurt as the morphine wore off. On the floor, he remembered Agent Lee, summoned him, forgave him. On the floor, unable to rise, he was guarded by soldiers even then. On the floor, he said goodbye to his father and Touch the Clouds, the last of the thousands who once followed him. And on the floor, still as far from white men as the limitless continent they once dreamed of, he died. Touch the Clouds pulled the blanket over his face: “That is the lodge of Crazy Horse.” Lying where he chose, Crazy Horse showed the rest of us where we are standing. With his body he demonstrated that the floor of an Army office was part of the land, and that the land was still

‘Go and Track down the Lion’s pearl. Kill its holder once you have it, come to me and we can lay waste on Harktown.’ King Athaulf smiled the thin, snakey smile a storybook villain would do if they were in his position. Argyros spoke.

The leader was asking to fight the monster headed their direction. The King and Queen pondered his request.

Shortly after the discovery that my beloved wife had gone missing, I began to retrace my steps in search of her. I believe I must have lost her in the process of cycling up the hill; however, I cannot seem to make out which path I had come from.

My heart wasn’t with him and it had been this way since the moment he brought me home to his apartment above the garage the day we were wed. I had at this point given up fighting to free myself and sunk deep into my thoughts. Upon remembering the day we met I could recall almost every detail about him; from the twinkle in his eyes to the gleam of his golden watch. There was a gleam of hope which I saw when I looked at him much unlike the strain and exhaustion I see as he lurks in the grey shadows of the garage. Though I detested this awful place, it was not New York I longed to adventure away from, it was him. Him and his oh-so ordinary ways. I wished to live a life of the extravagant and the bold, a life with Tom, a life that was not

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.

“Who has first shift tonight? I don't know if I can march them around again without passing out myself!” A knight called Dugal announced loudly.

At the horizon stands the Archlord with his staff composed of presiding clans from the Royal Caste. Also present are military governors with absolute authority within the clans they govern.

The ideas and concepts of Joseph Campbell, found in his book The Power of Myth, can be used to analyze and explain the psychological and moral development, from youth to maturity, of Stephen Dedalus, the main character in James Joyce's book, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. In The Power of Myth, Campbell praises Joyce’s work: “In my own life I took my instruction from reading Thomas Mann and James Joyce, both of whom had applied basic mythological themes to the interpretation of the problems, questions, realizations and concerns of young men growing up in the modern world,” (Campbell, 143). Some of Campbell’s concepts include the hero’s journey and that a hero can have a thousand faces. According to Campbell, there are two types of

He aimed it straight at the target on the tree. The string tensed and, the moment he released it, the arrow swished through the air, bending and swerving with the wind, perfectly hitting its mark. A bull’s eye!