Chatterbox: Inkwell

I need constructive criticism because I am experiencing a phase where none of my writing is any good. 

This is it. The fate of an entire country. Plus some dragons. On MY shoulders. And I’m 12 years old!

I suck on the sugary tab, plotting. In several minutes I’ll be leaving Rasenburough, on a forbidden dragon. I’m nervous, I guess, but moreover, I’m excited. I’ve been plotting this for years...and years...and years.

Just as I start to slip into a day-dream, a sharp, unforgiving voice shakes me back to life. “Hope!” I open my eyes. “Hope!” “What?” I say, standing. It’s Erintyl Burs, one of the Messengers I work with. “Hope, your shift is in six.” “Thanks, Erintyl.” He salutes me, rearranges his leather bag, and stalks off. Good riddance.  I think, settling myself back down on the sweet-smelling hay and popping the tab back in my mouth.

A few short minutes later,  I open my eyes. There, over the grey stone wall, is the signal that will change my life. Dark yellow sparks in the shape of a rose.

I close my eyes, bracing myself. I ripped apart by pain so fierce I’ve never felt the like of it before, and never hope to feel the like of it again. “Why the skys did I do this?” I howl.

It goes on like this for a while, maybe a minute, thought it felt like several sun lit days. Pain, howling, pain.

And then it is suddenly over. I stand on legs that can’t be seen, which is a really wierd sensation, let me tell you. I spit out the tab, and walk out of the alley.

Now, there is nothing monumental about Rosenburough. There is a large sign that says Grey Rosenburough, 6 at the end of the only street. On either side of The Road are perfect, bland houses, each just like the next. They all have grey roofs, slightly darker gray walls, and brown doors with a shiny number plate on it. Today, The Road is surprisingly quiet. Two grey-clad Guardsmen patrol The Road.  None of the usual hubbub today. I think, trying to connect with Rianne’s, my friend, mind. Her mind remains strangely impenetrable. Rianne? What? Her mental voice, high and squeaky, sounds annoyed. Only two of ‘em. I think, my eyes on the Guardsmen. Go.

I try to puzzle out her annoyance. I look down. “Sagho’s Children!” I whisper. MY legs are flickering in and out of sight, more seen than not. The spell must have gone wrong.

I start to , horror of horrors, run down the middle of The Road. “Miss!” One of the men yells as I pass, while his companion lunges. I doge him easily, and keep running towards the dragon stables.

I’ve never been a great runner, and these men and women are trained for it. I can’t go much longer! I pant mentally to Rianne. You’ve got to. Once you’re out of Dispensata, the plan can really start. So I keep running, even though it’s hard when your legs feel like lead and every muscle is telling you to stop, STOP!

I somehow manage to get to the dead-end alley that we agreed on, and just in time. The Guardsmen run right past, their eyes strangely scarlet. I doubt they can even see, only using their extra-sensitive noses. But that’s never been proven.

With that encouragement, I turn and face the long, thick Wracklepo vines that are the only  outside way to enter the forbidden dragon stables.

I place my left foot on an especially thick vine, and hoist myself up. I hear the call “Search the Alleys!” and move faster. My foot slips. I dangle in mid-air for about a minute, and swinging my legs ferociously, must have made quite a racket. This had it’s consequences.

A large, black-haired women rounds the corner and enters Alley Thrift. “Ho, ho my pretty! We’ve got yeh now!” She says, smiling a virtually toothless smile. “Alley 950!” She bellows, still cackling. “Never.” I whisper. Rianne, I’m in Alley Thrift. Good! She replies almost immediately, her annoyed tone now excited.

I swing my leg around, hitting her in the face. The Guardswomen crumbles whimpering and clutching her mouth. Bestowed with sudden strength, I heave myself up, and over the brick wall of the alley.  

I land in a patch of grass snakes. “Aghhghghghg!” I scream, my eyes most likely widening. Hope? I can feel terror. What’s going on? Grass snakes… I manage, pulling one off of me. Get out of there and hurry back here, Hope. They know. Rianne says, signing off. With a shudder, I pull the remaining snake off of me and drop it in a hole.

Heart heaving from the encounter, I start running again.

It does not take long for me to reach the stables. Made out of marble and linder, smoke is leaking through the walls, which creates the impression of a godly building that one should not enter.

I ignore this premonition and continue onward towards the door.

In no time at all, I arrive at the stall that contains my dragon, the one that was taken from me.”Zi,” I whisper, reaching out to touch the slim, blue dragon that I’ve not seen for years. “Zi!” Quickly, I unlatch the door, glancing nervously behind me as I do so.

Guardsmen are pouring into the smoky stables. My fingers fumble on the latch, as they are slick with sweat. “Hold on, Zi.” I murmur, sensing my dragon’s excitement.

The latch is done. I grab Zi’s harness, and pull myself onto the waiting saddle. A Guardsmen grabs my leg.

I look down. It’s just a boy, no older than Erintyl. “Let go.” I say, my voice strong and true, but only so he can here. “Let go. You don’t like it here.”

But he doesn’t. The boy swings up onto the saddle behind me. “What?” I start, but another Guardsmen, a small, blond one, as grabbed Zi’s bridle. “Zi, I give you permission.”

My dragon roars with delight, and lets out a stream of verdant fire.”Ahhhhhh!’ screeches the Guardsmen, probably being scorched. “Fly.” I tell Zi, and she does. We, Zi, the boy and I, are soon flying with the clouds, laughing at the Guardsmen beneath us.

Relaxing, I talk to Rianne. A little bit of trouble, not much. Good, good. And any unsuspected twists? You’ll see. I send mischievously, craning to look at the boy. He looks sick.

“How goes it that I end up with you?” He doesn’t answer. “Well…?” I prompt, smiling to show my good intentions. “Why are we-where are we going?” He asks, barely audible. “You’ll see.”I say, adding a mental message to Rianne. Be there in 5.

Can you be here sooner? We’re-We need you. What’s going on? I send out desperately. I listen for her reply, but am distracted by a loud retching noise behind me.

Hand on. Turning around so I’m facing the boy, I see this. He’s bent over, grey cotton pants streaked with chunky puke. “Why did you have eggs this morning, boy?” I groan, looking at the scrambled yellow spot on his tunic.

“How did you know?” I laugh. “Oh, pleeeeese! I’m a Derin-Halt-” He shoots me a confused look. “I’m a detective and warrioress of the Revolution.”

The boy straightens up. However, this is comical. What else would it be with mashed scrambled eggs on a tunic? His eyes are scared, and I know what is running through his mind. “Oh pleeeeese!” I say again, rolling my brown eyes. “We don’t kill trespassers and eat their limbs for breakfast.” I eye him viciously. “Though you do look quite good.” I add. “Oh pleeeeese!” I mimics.

I chance a smile. “Zi, you are doing great.” I say before turning back to the boy. “Say, I don’t even know your name.” He straightens again, practically bending backwards. “Agori Jope, at your service.” “I don’t need your service. Frankly, that offends me.” “Wh-?” Agori Jope starts, but I turn to face front again.

I guess that if you’ve taken  the time out of what is surely an amazing social life to read this story, I suppose you should know why the offer offends me.

It started when I was just 8. My sister and Ma had gone into Center, the shop, for the day. I was home with Pop. I was reading Harry Potter. I don’t know or care which one. But I do remember the sentence I was on. Eat. You’ll feel better. Then the stomping began. And my mother’s screams. The Guardsmen were carrying her and my little sister up the road, their faces unfeeling and expressionless. They set the house on fire, shouted “At your service.”, and…

If you can’t figure that out, shut. This. Book.

Anyhow. Back to the present. Agori Jope isi still bewildered as to why I was now angry. “I dunno your name either.” He says, cautiously. “Hope.” I say shortly. “Hope what?” “My name is Hope. Just Hope.”

Luckily, we are saved from a confusing and embarrassing situation by arriving at the Revolution base. Rianne, I send out with my mind, We’re here. “Land here, Zi.” I add to my beautiful, perfect dragon.

When we land, we are hailed like royalty. “Rianne!” I call out. A short, black-haired, green eyed girl is pushing through the crowd. “Hope! Hope!” She crys, and we fall into each others arms.

“You are the only person to successfully bring a dragon over. Everyone else has just failed.” Rianne tells me when we break apart. “Flat out?” I ask. “Flat out.” She nods. “And who’s this?” Rianne looks at Agori Jope. “Oh, him.” I say with distaste. “He grabbed on as we were taking off.” “What happened to him?” “The usual.” “And why is he dressed-?” Rianne eyes the gray uniform under all the dried throw up. “He’s Agori Jope, Guardsmen.” I explain.

“Where shall I put Zi?” I ask, pointing up at the fly aqua dot in  a black sky. “There is a field over a bit.” I signal to Zi, who let’s out three short bursts of acid green flame-she remembered the signal all this time- and heads that way.

You must be exhausted. Rianne says, grasping my arm. “I’ll show you where the Barracks are.” She adds out loud.

The large, bustling crowd parts to let us through. “It’s not much.” Rianne warns. “I really don’t care. I’m just glad to be out of that place.” “I know.” She consoles. “Trust me. I know.”  

The Barracks turn out to be six or seven nice, paneled, white cottages near the dark, pine woods. I enter the one that says Rianne and Hope in big orange bubble letters.

Inside, there is a large round table with two brown, splintery chairs. A dark passageway leads to an extremely bright room. In this extremely bright room, there are two cots, one long and one short. The short one has a book on it’s ruffled sheets. Mine, the long one, is perfect and fresh. To make it seem more, oh, homey, I ruffle up my sheets to look like Rianne’s. There is a small closet with a leather suit with an embroidered R on the pocket, and two leather suits with an embroidered H.

I leave The Extremely Bright Room, and go back into the dining area. There is a small stove, and a cupboard filled with china cups and plates.

I walk out of the cottage and run down to where I left Rianne. Her expression is one of concern. “I know it’s not much-” She stops short when I twirl her around. “It’s perfect.” I sing, leaping in a bad imitation of a Dancer. “Really?” Rianne asks, sounding skeptical. “It’s okay if-” I twirl her again. “Absolutely perfect.” I repeat.

When we return, Rianne turns me toward a small green tent. “We’re having a feast today, because you brought the dragon.” She explains as I sniff the aroma. “Soooo good.” I sigh. Rianne laughs.  We link arms, and head toward the tent.

There are many different kinds of food, but even more different types of people. encounter stuttering ones, out-going ones, strong ones and boastful ones. A few humble ones, playful ones. Optimists and pessimists. Tall and short. Large and skinny. This is overwhelming. I send to Rianne. It is for all of us. She shoots back. I grin at her, and head toward the aromic buffet.

“Chicken!” I moan, seeing the roasted fowl. “Brussel sprouts.” Rianne frowns, picking at a scab. “Pancakes.” I say.”Roasted turkey.” She counters, a smile daring to betray her. “Tea!” I gasp, pulling at her black braid. “Cake.” Rianne smiles, grabbing my hand. “Come on! Don’t torture me any longer!” I pull away and jog toward the good, good food.

“You pig.” Rianne says when she sees my plate, full to the brim and then some. “Hark who’s talking.” I nod at her own. “Cut me some slack, lady.” She says, shoveling food into her mouth. “Communicating with your mind is getting harder. Jo and Geni feel it too.”

I look over where she points. Jo is a tall, willowy, model of a girl, her hair perfectly styled and perfectly impractical. Geni is taller, but plump and messy haired.

“They do?” I say. “Have you contacted the Yellow County Base yet? You know, for James and Honor?” “We haven’t even tried, really.” Rianne says, pulling one of her black braids out of her food. “And why is that?” I say, surprised. “It’s not like Eirys to lack in necessary steps.

“Well, Eirys isn’t Eirys anymore, Hope.” Rianne says. “You haven’t seen her yet but...Do you remember Bryn?” I nod. How could I forget Bryn, the pessimist, always unwashed, hair losses and unbrushed, quiet and loud at the same time? “Eirys is, quite simply, worse.” “Worse than Bryn?” I exclaim, stopping my fork in midair. “How is that even-” “Possible.” Rianne finishes for me.

I look down at my plate of hot, steaming food. Rianne gets the point. “Let’s go for a ride on Zi.” I say, not really meaning it. “You go. You need it.” I look at her. “Oh just go!” She says. “Thank you.”

On Zi, flying into the brilliant, ever changing sunset, I feel me. Truly me. You can feel like that too, just probably not flying a dragon. They will never help humans again.

Back to feelings. I feel like I’m free like Dispensata never existed. That I don’t have to be a Messenger to the King if the Revolution fails. Zi turns, and I let her. I don’t care if we are going straight into the heart of Dispensata. In fact, I’d like nothing better than to meet the King. I reach for my bow and arrow, until I realize I haven’t gotten them yet.

My feeling of elation rushes out of me like a punctured balloon.  “Zi, go back.”  I say, and and Zi does. I’m just as hollow as when I heard the news about Eirys. “No.” I say to Rianne  when she approaches me with concerned eyes. “No.” I say when Zi attempts to nuzzle up to me.

I push through crowds of people with concerned faces and get to Rianne and my cottage. I run into The Extremely Bright Room, note that it’s still extremely bright, and collapse onto my bed.

If the government finds out about that, I think, If they find out about my greatest weakness, I’m dead, not to mention Zi and Rianne and Eirys and Jo and Geni and the entire Revolution. I need to keep it down. Way down inside.

The next morning, nobody except Rianne approaches me. They all look at me with mingled fear and respect, whispering behind their hands. I head for the tent in which we ate last night, but it’s gone. There is only a tiny stone house in it’s place. “Where is it?” I say, still hot from the glances of the following crowd. “Oh, the tent’s only for big celebrations.” Rianne explains. “We just pick up our rations for the day here and try to cook it as best we can in the cabin.”

“When do I get a bow?” “Later, Hope, later. Today is restful, we hope.” Rianne frowns. “Calm down already.” I sigh. “I’m so sorry, Rianne. It’s just…” I trail off but she gets the point.

“Let’s grab our stuff and get cooking. “ Rianne says, picking up two eggs, and a bag. I grab the other bag. “Let’s cut through here.” I point to a dark path. “Oh no.” Rianne shudders. “There might be something in there.” I turn and peek my head inside.

It was dark and shadowy. Each tree had it’s own collection of cobwebs. A pair of yellow eyes peered out at me from a tree. A vine grows over the path. It would try an unsuspecting traveler, but I wouldn’t be unsuspecting.

I come back out. “Rianne, it’s fine.” I call out. “Nothing in there out of the norm.” “Ohhh, alright.” But she doesn’t look happy. I grab her left hand and pull her into the underbrush.

“See,” I tell her when we leave. “Nothing th-whoa.” We had walked right into the moat of  a deserted castle.  At least, we thought it was deserted. But right then we were more concerned about not freezing to death in the ice cold water than whether the mossy old castle was deserted or not.  

“What the heck was that?” Rianne stutters when we crawl out. “No idea.” I say, stuttering myself. “I told you something would go wrong, didn’t I, Hope?” “Yes.” I resign. “But look at this place!” I add brightly. “It’s perfect for the revolution.” “Yes,” Rianne says, looking around and shivering. “Yes...Assuming we can even get out of this stinkin’ place and back to base!” “Yeah, but the tunnels just over here.” I say, confidence showing in my tone.

“Oh really?” Rianne chuckles as I walk right into a thornbush. “But I-Can’t be-Impossible.” I mutter. “Well, seeing as the tunnel is most definitely not there, I suggest that we look at how much of this food is still good and figure out  a way out of here.” “Sounds good.” I stutter, limping back and pulling thorns out of my feet and legs.

“So,” drawls a male voice from behind me. “My friends join me at last.” I spin around, completely in sync with Rianne.

I open my mouth, preparing to spit directly into the man ’s face. But there is a problem with this plan. The man’s face is about a foot below mine.

The dwarf is plump, with thick arms and tree trunk leggings. His rusty hair is all swept to one side, creating a two-person-in-one look. His eyes are spring green and dart nervously all around. The dwarf is wearing a yellow leather jacket and spotted pants.

This is weird.

“Uhhhhh…” Rianne says behind me, not knowing what to say.  I’m in the same boat with  you, sister. I send, trying to lift the intensity and weirdness levels of this scene. Have you ever tried that and succeeded? I’m assuming the answer is no.

“Please,” the dwarf says to my stomach. “Do come inside.” Should we?What choice do we have? Good point. Signing off.  “Sure, young dwa-er what are you?” Rianne asks , “No offense or anything but…”

“None taken, miss.” The dwarf man says, but his eyes stop darting and focus only on Rianne. “No offense taken at all, miss. I’m an  Emperor Dwarf. Nain, the Emperor Dwarf.” Nain’s eyes dart again. “We came here to join The Revolution. But we must have gone too far.”

“We?” I say. I suppose my eyes are darting now.

“There are many of us who are no longer willing to serve the King. We heard of people who are starting a revolution, an organized one, and we came.” Nain’s darting pupils enlarged. “But come! We can talk inside.”

Rianne takes my hand, and we enter a drafty parlor. Dwarfs just like Nain are bustling about. Slowly they notice us, and one by one they stop. “Emps!” calls Nain to bring in the few who are just stopping. “Emps! These people are from The Revolution. I found them-” Nain stops and a look of horror crosses his face. He turns to us. “My dears! You are still shivering!” Promptly, two fluffy orange towels are delivered to our knees.

“Thanks.” I say. Nain looks satisfied. He turns back to the crowd of excited dwarfs. It’s like you bringing Zi all over again. Rianne  sends me. I don’t respond, too focused on searching for any bizarre movement  from the Emperor Dwarfs.

“...This is” Nain points at me. “I’m Hope.” I say. “And Hope’s friend?” “Rianne.”  Rianne says, tightening her grip on my fingers .  

“I’m Esclave.” A female dwarf even shorter than Nain comes forward. She’s wearing a clean brown dress and a black apron. “And Travali. I’m Nain’s brother.” Another dwarf says.

“It’s nice to meet you all.” I say. “But we would like to rest for a bit, if it’s not too much trouble.” “Not at all.” Esclave says, taking our towels. “Third floor, second door.” Nain smiles, his eyes darting again.

Rianne hasn’t let go of my hand the whole time. When we reach our room, she finally does. I study it. All of the blood is flowing in now, and it pricks.

“I’m so sorry!” We both exclaim at the same time.

“I shouldn’t have brought us here.”I say.

“Look at your hand!” Rianne says.

“What if we never get back?”

“It’s so pale; now it’s turning...purple?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Can you move all your fingers?”

“This dwarfs could be plotting to get us.”

“I didn’t realize that I was gripping so hard.”

Rianne doubles over with laughter. “We...are...making...absolutely no...sense!” “At all!” I agree. “Anyhow, I have much more cause to be sorry then you, Rianne. I-” “Oh, shut it.” Rianne growls affectionately.

“Hey,” I say, looking around. “Nice quarters.”

There were two beds, both with white feather comforters. A large window overlooked a duck pond, and I could make out dwarfs running around beneath us.

“Nain’s got something wrong with his eyes.” I say, still watching the brightly dressed dwarves play. “Oculumotus, most likely.” “What?” Rianne smirks. “I took a course at the Yellow District Base. It’s like a college there.”

“Is there a cure for this Ocmos thingamagig?” I ask, seating myself on a bed. “Not yet. They are working on one.” Rianne pauses. “In Dispensata.” She adds. “Oh.” I say.

Rianne yawns. “I am soooo exhausted.” She says. “Rianne, it’s like, 11:50 AM!” “Does that mean I can’t be tired?” I crawl under my comforter. “Not at all, Rianne.” I whisper.

It was the bacon that woke me. Seriously. Even with the best dream in the history of the Blue Planet is no force against the powerful smell of bacon.

Bacon marches it’s  armies of aroma up into your nose, and wages battle upon the dreams there.

“Alright, alright.” I mutter, just like any other time bacon wafted upon my dream. I hop out of bed, and run, actually run, toward the first of two trays that carry our breakfast. I scarf down my bacon, and one piece of Rianne’s. Silly me.

Rianne hopped out of bed like I probably had done, and went, quite calmly, to her breakfast tray. “Hope,” She said, daggers protruding from her eyes. “Hope, answer me this question of all questions truly.”

I gulp. “Okay.”

“Where is my third piece of bacon?”

I point to my stomach. “Alright.” Rianne said, now surprisingly pleasant. “I’ll let you have it for one pancake, two waffles and some peach jam.”

“Okay.” What could I say?

Rianne removed the above said food items from my plate and scarfed them down faster than I had scarfed the bacon. I looked down at my plate. I now had toast, some jam, and an over-easy egg. I started with the egg. It seemed right.

Rianne was done long before I was, strangely. By 7, she was turning green. Esclave told her that the bathroom was two doors down if she needed it. Rianne shook her head, but she headed that way as soon as Esclave left.

She reentered the room looking normal. “All’s right?” I smirked. “All’s right.” She confirmed.  

“Do you want to get  out of this room?” I ask.

Rianne smiled, still a little weakly, I thought. “I think I’d better stay in here.” She patted her stomach. “You go. And then we need to talk about...uhhh...getting out of here.”

I decide to go to the duck pond underneath my  window. I see Nain, and ask directions. “Ohh,” He says, his eyes darting. “Just...ask Travali.” “Your brother?” I ask, trying and failing to make eye contact. “That’s him.” Nain says, slipping away.

I find Travali dressed in bright red robes, throwing a ball in the air boyishly. “Er, Travali?” I ask, not wanting to interrupt.