CONTESTANT #4    1st PRIZE

Hera's Ambrosia Amulet


What would you do with unlimited power? If given the chance to become a god, would you take it? Some Greek legends speak of a powerful amulet kept by the goddess Hera. The amulet was closely guarded, forged by Hephaestus and requested by Zeus. Inside, the king of the gods asked that Hephaestus enclose the secret to the long life of the deities: Ambrosia.  The amulet was forged of titanium, plated in the finest gold and silver, and emblazoned with the symbol of Hera herself, as she was to protect it at all costs. No one was allowed to touch the amulet except Hera.  For many years, the amulet was safe, resting against the queen’s heart.  But then, the amulet disappeared. No one knows exactly how Hera lost it, but she was completely devastated. Ambrosia could be disastrous in the hands of any human, since it allowed any mortal to raise themselves to the rank of a lesser god.
Zeus and Hera scoured the Earth, thinking perhaps a mortal had found it. Unfortunately, they had little success.

Now, the amulet was lost, along with a large portion of ambrosia. Hera could not be consoled. Her tears caused rains and storms. After a long time, Hera became tired of her constant emotional worry. She appeared in the temples of her followers, the Amazon Nation which she had created.  The Amazons dutifully worshipped her. If I appear to them and ask for their help, she thought, surely I will find it.  I gave them great power. They are faithful to me in return.

One day, as she returned from her worship at Hera’s temple, the Amazon queen Alti found the ambrosia amulet. She knew of the great risk, but seeing Hera’s symbol upon the amulet, she forgot the goddess’ pleas.  This was a gift for her faithfulness, she thought. After all, Alti had long ago promised her daughter to Hera as a priestess. She hid the amulet in her clothing, resting against her heart. Alti believed that she could return the amulet upon her death before crossing the River Styx. Hera saw Alti’s actions and her thoughts, and she was pleased.  Since the Amazon did not have a way to return the amulet directly, Alti tried to secretly carry the amulet with her wherever she went.  Around that time, the Gorgons found out about Hera’s quest to retrieve the amulet. The immortal Gorgon Euryale decided that perhaps Hera might reward her for returning it, so she devised a scheme. Euryale petitioned the god of war, Aries, for his help.  Perplexed, Aries asked her what she desired. Euryale replied,

                “I want to return this amulet to Hera. She will no doubt thank me, and perhaps I may curry her favor. Help me to begin a war with the Amazons to steal the trinket from Alti, so I may take that which belongs to Hera back to her.” At first Ares did not wish to help her. He knew well of Alti’s faithfulness. Teaming up against Alti, a devoted warrior queen, might pose dire consequences. After all, the Amazons paid homage to him as well. Nonetheless, Aries couldn’t resist starting a good war. He agreed to help, and watched in glee as the Amazons fought the Gorgons for possession of the amulet.  The battle lasted many days, and Alti became severely wounded. Knowing she would die, and that the Fates would soon come to escort her to Olympus, she asked her daughter Velasca to ensure that she was burned with the ambrosia amulet. Velasca agreed.  She knew this was the only way to return it to Hera. Since it could not be destroyed, the amulet would rise with her mother’s spirit to Mt. Olympus and be returned to its rightful place.

When the pyre was lit, a realization hit Velasca. She did not need to burn the amulet.  It could give her power beyond her wildest dreams.  Legend told that if ambrosia were ingested by any normal human, he or she could join the ranks of the gods with ultimate power. Her mother had been a fool not to take the ambrosia from within it and become a goddess.  She rescued the amulet, which magically remained untouched by the fire. She wore it boldly for all the women to see. Believing that Velasca had taken the ambrosia and become a goddess, the Amazon tribe feared her. She became the new queen in her mother’s place. Her rule was ultimate. Eventually, a power hungry Velasca gave into temptation. She ate the ambrosia from the locket, and the power drove her mad. She challenged the tribe to defeat her or worship her.  Several refused to bow, including a very young warrior, Velasca’s daughter Varia. Varia, realizing her mother had lost her senses, pleaded with her. She volunteered to be killed and return the amulet. Velasca would not hear of it, and instead sent her daughter on a quest for more ambrosia. If she returned, Velasca promised, she would give the locket to Varia as her inheritance.  When Varia left the queen’s presence that day, she offered a sacrifice to Hera, vowing to claim the locket and return it to the goddess at last.  With the favor of Hera, Varia left the nation of the Amazons.  She searched far and wide. Seeing her pure heart and intentions, Hera aligned herself with the princess and led her to a small portion of ambrosia.
“Do not eat it, or you will go mad as your mother has,” the goddess warned. “Simply fill the locket with it. Then challenge your mother with the sword I will give you. Your mother will have her powers taken from her. Then you must place the locket around her neck and choke her. It is too strong for you to break on your own power.” Varia did as the goddess commanded, and when she returned with the ambrosia, she used the chain to kill her mother. The locket was returned, and peace was restored.


CONTESTANT #3    2nd PRIZE

Battered, But Not Forgotten


Battered, but not forgotten.
Battered, but not forgotten.
Once, long ago, I was forged from the metals of the land. A man in a cold, dark mine dug me out and sent me to a smith where I was melted by fire, purified, then forged into a single, round, coin-shaped medallion.
The smith engraved me with words of love and a visage of a woman's face, then gave me to his wife as a gift. I'll never forget the tears of joy that streamed down her face as her lover presented me to her, all shiny and new, and with her likeness upon me. She kept me on a chain around her neck, lovingly tucked underneath her shirt where I rested close to her heart at all times.
I thought I would stay with her forever. I thought wrong.
Battered, but not forgotten.
Battered, but not forgotten.
On a beautiful spring morning, my mistress, as I had come to think of her presented me as a gift to her daughter as she was wed. I was not as shiny as I once had been, but I understood the gesture, and accepted the new role bravely.
The daughter, my new mistress, cared for me and polished me and returned some of my former splendor to me, though I still was not quite the magnificent being I once was at the time of my birth.
She, as well, kept me close to her breast, and I was happy. I grew older, but not as old as my new mistress who seemed to age faster than I would have thought imaginable.
One day, my mistress lay in her bed, her long beautiful hair, once a vibrant, rich, black, was now gray. Her once sharp angular features now wrinkled.
I knew she was in pain, and I longed to bring her comfort. She brought me out from beneath her gown and smiled upon me. Oh, to see that smile, and to know the joy that it brought me as she gazed upon me!
She removed the chain that bound me from about her neck and kissed me dearly as she had done several times throughout the years when she was sad or felt lonely.
She then placed me about the neck of a young girl, her granddaughter. I was quite tarnished by this time, and had obtained a few nicks and dents throughout my years of service, but I understood what was happening and accepted the responsibility of passing to a new owner once again.
Battered, but not forgotten.
Battered, but not forgotten.
I'll never understand this aging thing my previous owners endured, for I am timeless. I saw laughter. I saw tears. I saw pain. I saw happiness. I saw life. I saw death. Yet, through it all, I endured.
Battered, but not forgotten.

CONTESTANT #2    3rd PRIZE

The Mystery Box


"Son, come here. I have something for you." My dad said during my cartoons. I went into the kitchen and saw a wooden box. "I want to give this to you. It's something my father gave to me when I was your age. He said it was very special. Very useful. And most importantly, it was very valuable. It's held things together for him while he couldn't. It served as a marker when he lost his way. It served him for many years. And then he passed it on to me." I looked at the box and wondered what was inside. I smiled knowing I was going to take possession of this mystery. I smiled in anticipation. "While I had it," he continued, "it saved my life. It helped me get through doors that were otherwise closed to me. It helped me reach places I otherwise couldn't fit into. In a pinch, I could even use it to clean out the small crevices of my life. Son, what I give to you today is a tool that will take you farther than you ever imagined you would go. It is the key to a brand new life. A new world of exploration! And when the day comes, you too, will give it to your son. And tell him the things that I told you today. And you will stand as proud before him as I am before you. Take care of this, son. And it will take even better care of you." With that, he picked the box up from the table and handed it to me. "Can I open it, dad?" I asked with excitement. "Yes, son. You can." I opened it and looked inside. I was speechless. I looked back up into my father's eyes. "Dad..." I said. "You're an idiot." And I gave him his bent paperclip back.