definition of a hero

Salt and sea; he is the warm sand beneath your feet, the soothing waves of the ocean. He is the last iced blue cookie in the jar, the one you've been waiting all week for. He's the slicing pain of a paper cut, the heavy ache of a broken heart. He's the early hours of the morning and the glaring green of St. Patrick's Day. He's the soft arms of a loved one around you, the steady breath of a friend in your ear. He's the shells that hang on the wall of your house that make it a home.

Oil and fire; he's that single coffee in the morning that switches your brain to overdrive, that twitch you feel in your hand when you've been writing too long. He's the cogs of a clock that keep it turning, the heavy leather of your most faithful boots. He's the pins and needles that wake you in the middle of the night and the tacos you had for dinner. He's the screwdriver at the bottom of the tool kit reserved for emergencies; the stained overalls you wear on weekends. He's that static on the television, the kind you just can't ignore.

Books and daggers; she's the moment you stay up late to finish a good novel, the smell of the pages as you crack it open. She's that kid in your class who always gets the answer right, and she's also the florist around the corner who never fails to open on time. She's the heavenly sound of your computer switching on, the knowledge that you've finished all your homework for the night and can finally relax. She's the nightlight in the corridor you use until you turn thirteen; the warm glow of your bedside lamp as it illuminates your room.

Feathers and words; she's the one piece of hair that always curls the wrong way, the cold pizza for lunch the day after ordering take-away. She's the scuffs on your good leather shoes, the ones you have no idea how they got there. She's the Hollywood smile with a hint of sadness; those coveted last tickets to a concert your friend bought online. She's that crazy hat you wear for Hallowe'en, the eagle you see flying overhead when you're out hiking. She's the delicate perfume of a bouquet, the bright clash of colours when you hang up your Christmas lights.

Jewels and cavalry swords; she's the warm fire flickering on a snowy night, the cosy feeling you get when you snuggle deep down into your quilt. She's the child actress who grew up and never went off the rails, the proud smiles of parents on their son's graduation. She's the smooth breeze on a summer's day, the flush that builds in your cheeks when you share your first kiss. She's the child who just won't let go of their mother; those liquorice allsorts all the colours of a rainbow. She's the cat that curls softly up in your lap, content.

Bears and bows; he's the surprisingly hulking figure of your little brother who's grown up without you noticing; the freshly painted picket fence on your neighbour's lawn. He's the crushing hug that makes your insides all warm and squishy, and he's the bucket hat that's always just a little too big for your head. He's the unerring accuracy of a sniper, the tiny circle in the middle of a target that no one can hit. He's the cumbersome luggage you carry that suddenly has a purpose, the homely lights on a cruise ship that are seen far out to sea.

Flying and tattoos; he's the good-looking boy you see from a distance and know you have no chance with. He's the cool mint sauce on a curry, and the achingly good rain that falls on dry, cracked earth. He's the heads or tails of a coin, the game of chance you always feel a little wary of playing. He's the close-cropped hair of a soldier in the army, and the assurance of your mother that everything will be all right. He's the bright, warm sun but he's also the clouds on the horizon, providing a warning for what's to come.

Arrows and lightning; she's those soft footsteps you hear in the middle of the night when your roommate comes home late, the jittery popcorn you leave inside the microwave for a minute too long that explodes. She's the last remnants of ink in your fountain pen; the single brick in the wall that keeps it from crumbling. She's the comeback line that humiliates your enemy, the sound of howling wolves during a full moon. She's the crackle of electricity in the air during a thunderstorm, and she's the heavy oak table you shelter beneath when you're frightened and all alone.

Author's Note: Review and tell me which of our 7 Great Prophecy heroes plus another each paragraph was!