Old Stories - Chapter 1 "Hurry up, Harry! We shall not lose thy battle." Said the boy running up on the hill in front of his house. "We mustn't! We have to win, and we will. Here comes the last blow!" With a huge sweep of his "sword"he hit the trunk of the tree and a loud noise echoed down the valley. They laughed and talked about their victory a bit more, then they turned back, heading towards "The Oak". It was a place they liked to go whenever they needed a break. Being in the centre of the town, it was a beautiful place to be. Legends say that the tree was planted when the town was built, but it looked more like the town was made after the tree was planted long ago. Every single street and every single sound was seen and heard from The Oak. As they approached, a tall dark contour appeared in sight. It became cleared and clearer until a huge tree was visible, leaves ruffling in the silent wind. A small wooden bench came in view just under the shade of the oak. An old man was sitting on the bench, puffing smoke from his pipe. His gaze was set on the boys, as if he was waiting for them. He then spoke: "What took you so long?" "The enemy was high in number," answered the smaller of the brothers. "So... When are you going go tell us the story?" Asked the other. "Didn't I tell you already? I'm pretty sure I did. I may be old but memory is as fresh as it has always been." "But you said you may say it today!" said the boys looking obviously disappointed. "Yes, I did. I said I may, not that I would." "All right, we will wait 'till tomorrow." They walked silently back to their usual tree, sparring a bit more. The last ray of the sun disappeared under the Isfred Mountains and they finally headed home.