The world was covered in dark clouds. Light was peaking through the mist, but the sun had lost it's power. Time for a legend to arrive, for a tale to be created.
Brave, strong men went to the ruins of the royal castle to try to pull the sword Excalibur from the stone. It was not a pretty sword. Rusty, plain and way too big so it seemed. But the one who could pull it, would be considered a hero.
Tournaments were held, games played, rewards promised, bets taken. Even a kingdom was promised to him who could draw the sword. But Excalibur was still there, calm, waiting for it's rightful owner.
And suddenly, on a rainy day, a young boy Arthur walked towards the stone, joyful and naïve.
He walked towards the stone. In a quick movement, he drew Excalibur from the stone, as if it was no more than lifting a feather.
He held the sword in his hands and saw the beautiful inscriptions and artwork on the blade. He touched the blade and cut his finger, realizing it was still sharp despite all the centuries it remained in the stone.
As the skies broke and the sun turned on, magic took over.
Excalibur did not leave his side from that moment on. It would be his pride, his mighty weapon, his shield, for he instantly instinctively knew how to handle the weapon.
He would use it in wisdom, and rule his kingdom with righteousness.
The world was bright again.
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