Crying out for mythology

I heard them ask me to tell the ancient stories, the ancestral heroics that made our world so worthwhile long ago.  The Universe and collective conscience is preserved and must be reawakened by the stories we once shared around those campfires, to set loose and liberate imagination and creativity.  So we set our hearts on a journey and allow ourselves to ascend with a god, like the ancient greeks, and we find treasures.

Everyone can fight and argue over beauty or truth but no-one can argue over necessity.  She is the mother of invention and a friend to everyone.  The good is our choice, or is it?  So we find the store house of heaven and enter the giant library where all stories of all time are held in a vault.  The very golden vault of the akashic records.

Stories of every human being ever born, types of books on every subject thought of, coming to be and future goodies;  all in a vault where we were free to look upon the world and see it from a new perspective.  Although we wanted to get lost in here, we were on a mission, a mission to revive the myths of old and breathe flesh onto bone.  To bring it back from that long forgotten hole it had been shoved into and tossed out as a worthless thing.

Arise o children, and read what happened in the days of our fathers so long ago.  Our perilous quest has brought us back to you with great tales of adventure, dragons, fantasy and love.  Heros we haven't seen since the time of Hercules and Jason.

Wizards like Merlin and Kings like Arthur, did they truly exist?  Or if you would have an indulgence toward more fantasy, the vampire always moving in and out of the shadows of time.  Let us share, and tell, what we found.