The Mountain reigned over the town with great superiority. It was the host of all legends, sweet and glum alike.
My favorite one, the one my mother always told me, was a tale like no other in our village.
It went like this:
Back in the late days of the Age of Terror, a small boy was born. The boy grew up on a tiny farm (just like the one I live on), herding the sheep a little ways up the Mountain, then known as Mount Algrain, to a small green field so they could graze, or caring for the cattle, and working the horses. It was an average life for an average boy.
But then the War of Chadrone came about, and soldiers seized him and other boys his age and forced them to work as slaves, and train to become soldiers when they were older.
Many years passed, and the boy, whose name was Trent, grew into a man with a large and kind heart, despite the conditions of which he was raised.
The war was still raging against Chadrone, who's base was at the peak of Mount Algrain. Trent had learned of this by staying up late, past the curfew, and watching the stars.
He had said that he saw a very small orange glow from the peak. At first, because the light was so minuscule, he thought it was just a new star, but it was not. He later realized the black plumes of smoke, almost invisible but for the silver of the moon behind it.
It was poor judgment and arrogant foolishness on behalf of Chadrone and his troops.
Trent told his general of his great discoveries, and so proud was the general that he placed Trent as the commanding officer, and had him lead a surprise attack on Chadrone.
It would not be easy goings up the steep mountain side, but it had to be done. It took about a month in total to get himself and a thousand troops up there, only traveling at night. And on the way up, they only lost one man, who fell to his death from thousands of feet in the air.
They waited til the next night, when most of the enemy warriors would be asleep, to attack.
It was a fair battle, for Chadrone had only about nine hundred troops defending his base. The rest were out terrorizing the lands below.
By the time dawn broke, most of everyone was dead. It was only Chadrone with four of his men, and Trent with five of his men left. The others were all dead.
Chadrone and Trent faced each other, while their men fought hard against one another.
Trent, who was also very intelligent, won the battle when an eagle soared over head, and Chadrone paused to look at it.
Trent's silver sword pierced Chadrone's heart, and the war was ended.
This magnificent victory brought about the first Golden Age of the country Algrain. Trent, being the victor, was made the highest ranking knight, and when the King died, Trent took over, for the king had no heir.
And this is the Legend of Trent, whose spirit still lives on in the land.