“Come on children gather around. It's story time.” dad calls.
My sisters, brothers, and I gather around the fire. It's dark outside even for La Bobo Cree. The fire crackles and the stars twinkle in the night sky. We're all sitting in a semi-circle waiting for my dad Vance to tell us our bedtime story for the night. Warm sand sliding and settling between our toes. Our knees in front of us touching our chest. Arms wrapped around them. Some of us so excited that we rock back and forth.
“What story should I tell tonight?” he says to himself.
We are all on the edge of our seats. Dying for him to start the tale of the night. What 6 year old doesn't love their parents' stories? Especially since my dad tells the best stories. Sometimes he even tells us folktales. Which is what I prefer. Cause even though it's only what people say and pass on. I know there's a small grain of truth somewhere in there. Under all the shock factor and the happy ever after. There's definitely some truth to it. There has to be. I hope tonight he tells us one like that. Not the kind where he makes it up as he goes along.
“Yara, pay attention. I'm about to start.” my dad says to me.
“Tonight will be a famous folktale among everyone in Xyron. A story that was told to me when I was your age.”
We all giggle at the thought. Not being able to imagine my dad being so young.
He continues “Long ago, There was an unnamed hero. It was said that he broke into what was known as the inner circle of hell in their day and age. The hero's goal was to save the people. From disaster and from poverty. To create a more homely and more welcoming place among the people. Where everyone was equal. This was unheard of and far fetched. Everyone thought it was insanity. Not even possible. It sounds silly, even to me after all this time. But that's not the point. Anyway, our unnamed hero trekked across the land. One day, deciding that everything would be easier if Hell was just extinguished from the inside out. Hell's foundation needed to be broken. Remind you our unnamed hero was completely crazy. So he somehow convinced himself that the only way to save the people of our land, was to flood all the core buildings. Continuously sneaking into the chambers of the most sacred buildings and flooding them with water. Of course, no one knows where he got all this water. But one day it is said that after flooding the main buildings of all 5 regions of the mainland. Peace actually fell upon the land. Everyone believed that it had something to do with the last flood being on an eclipse. Or maybe it was the fact that he destroyed so much stuff from the flood. That the people needed to work together to restore all that was lost from what little they had, to begin with.”
“That sounds so cool.” the words slipping out of my mouth without warning.
“Yes, it was. An what he did worked. People said that there was peace for many years. But as the people got older, everyone eventually died off. Or just stopped believing that such a thing was possible. If anyone did openly admit that they believed in this being possible outside of being some tall tale. It was a sign of weakness. How could one rely on such a thing for world peace? But in the hearts of many people throughout the land. Secretly, people are waiting for another unnamed hero like that to rise again. And save our people.”