Snippet

This is a snippet that I found in my files. I wrote it a few months ago just for fun. In it, I have a few of the same characters that I have in Torn Heart, but instead of being 18, 20, and 23, they are 7, 9, and 12. It’s not completed, so maybe I’ll finish it up later and give you the end in a different post. Remember – this was written for pure fun. There isn’t really a plot or a purpose.

———–

The fearsome warrior advanced toward the glittering dragon with his sword held aloft and his blaze of red hair shining in the sun. The dragon widened its golden eyes, trying to hypnotize him, but the warrior stood firm. Behind him crouched the princess, her filmy skirt swirling over the dirt in pale pink torrents. The warrior raised his sword as smoke poured from the dragon’s nostrils…

“No, say ‘billowed’, not ‘poured’,” corrected the princess. “It sounds better.”

“Okay then, smoke billowed from the dragon’s nostrils as he bent forth to eat you.”

“Well, kill him quick, then!” The princess was getting impatient.


The fierce warrior swiped off the dragon’s head in one blow. All of his guts spilled out onto the ground. His slayer gave a triumphant yell, and the princess squealed.

“Eeew!” The princess squealed obligingly. “You’re brave and fierce, all right.”

“How was my yell?”

“It hurt my ears. Kiann!” Nine-year-old Silke jumped to her feet and pointed at the retreating “dragon.” “Dusty’s making right for Mum’s garden! We’ve got to stop him!”

The two children ran after the lanky brown horse, who trotted placidly along, hot on the trail of sweet green buds and shoots. His leadrope bounced behind him.

When the animal was finally caught and returned to his pasture, the door of the white farmhouse on the hill swung open and a tall woman with beautiful chestnut hair popped her head out. “Oren’s here, you two.” A twelve-year-old boy jumped over the threshold after her and jogged toward Kiann and Silke.

“Hi. Watcha playin’?”

“The usual.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want to play? You can be the evil wizard who –”

“Nah.” Oren ran a hand through his shock of black hair. “I’ll only play if I get to throw Silke in the mud or something.”

“Mo-o-o-ther!” Silke wailed, but Mala had already gone back into the house.

“Then I won’t play.” Oren said.

“Well, what do you want to do, then?”

Oren turned to Kiann. “Cuz, let’s go to the secret treehouse.”

Kiann turned all too willingly to bound after Oren. “See you later, Silke.”
“So long, Askila,” said Oren, with a lofty wave of his hand.

“Wait!” Silke stumbled over a tree root and fell right on her nose. Her pale tresses of hair trailed in the mud. “Show me where the secret treehouse is!”

“Girls.” she heard Oren’s echo from somewhere in the deep woods. “Always whining aboutsomething.”

Silke got to her feet and sorrowfully wiped off her nose. “Fine. I’ll find a game to play all by myself.” She stomped off toward the house. When she opened the kitchen door, she saw her mother mixing something in a large blue bowl.

“What happened to the boys?” Mala asked her daughter.


“They don’t want me to play with them and Oren’s so mean,” Silke pouted. “Every time he comes over, Kiann goes to his side.”

“Do you know how to wrestle?”

“Not their way, and you don’t allow me to.”

“Do you know how to swordfight with sticks?”

“No. All their games are too rough!” Silke gave an exaggerated sigh.

“Presto. You have the reason why they don’t want you to play with them.” Mala wiped chocolatey fingers on her apron. “Go clean yourself up and you can help me make this cake for Papa.”

“Is it is birthday?”

“No, it’s just to make him feel better after a hard day at the brickyard. Now off to the washbasin with you.”

A while later, just as Mala was taking the hot cake out of the oven and the aroma of warm chocolate had come to linger in the kitchen, the two boys burst into the room, red-cheeked and ruddy.

“There you are,” Oren exclaimed to Silke. “Mala, is that cake…”
“No. You grab some cookies and get your muddy selves out of here.” The woman made a shooing motion with her hands.

Silke tagged after Kiann and Oren as they ventured out into the yard. Kiann reached back to give her a cookie and she chewed it thoughtfully, listening to the other two’s whispered conversation.

“What do you think, should we tell her?”

“Hmm.” Kiann had a mouthful of cookie. He shrugged.

“Tell me what? What are you boys talking about?”

“I don’t know if you would understand…” said Oren, hemming and hawing.

“I’ll understand it better than you!”

“But we’re the ones who made it up,” mumbled eight-year-old Kiann, confused.

“Okay, we’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell. Ever! Not a-n-y-o-n-e.”

Silke put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “No way. Papa says it’s never wise to agree to anything you don’t understand.”
Oren sighed. “You always have to make things so difficult. Just come on.” He and Kiann took off into the woods and Silke bunched up her skirts and ran after them, breathless. She caught up to them just as they reached a ramshackle jumble of boards and nails and grass in a tree branch a few feet off the ground.

It must be the secret treehouse, Silke thought to herself.

“This,” began Oren with a dramatic sweep of his hand, “Is the secret treehouse.” He bowed and motioned Silke in.

“Er…where’s the door?”

“Bother. You girls don’t know anything. Come on, Kiann, we’ll go in first.” He removed a fair amount of sticks and leaves and ducked inside.
Once inside, the treehouse was cozy, and much sturdier than it looked from its hodge-podge exterior. However, Silke could see that it needed a feminine touch.

“You should put some violets around the walls for decoration,” she suggested, “And get some old carpet for the floor.”

“Naw, this is a treehouse for tough people.” Oren swung a cloth flap over the door and leaned forward.

“Kiann and I have decided to start a secret club.”

Silke shrugged. “So? You have before. They all dissolve, and I’m sure not even you remember them.”

“Well, this one is different. It’s got a purpose and a password.”

“And we’re asking you to join it,” Kiann broke in.

“Kiann!” Oren turned on his cousin. “That’s not the way! You can’t just say it. You’ve got to use stealth. You’ve got to be wise to ensure what you want without making the other person feel like they’ve gotten the upper hand!” He shook his head in reproach. “I’ve got things to teach you.” He turned back to Silke. “We don’t have to have you join, you know. It’s an honor to be asked.”

“Well, what’s the purpose and the password?”
“Kiann lost his parents in the queen’s court, and I lost my aunt and uncle.”

“They’re the same.”

“Right. Anyway, both of us think that the queen is up to something bad, and we both vowed that when we get bigger, we’re going to fight hard for the rights of the people.”

“How do you know she’s up to something bad? You can’t just falsely accuse.”

“I listen to my father tell the news every night, so you can trust me.”
Silke narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know about trusting you. Every time I do, you throw mud balls at me or pour water all over my head or take away whatever I…”

“You can trust him this time,” Kiann assured her.

Oren nodded. “I’ll show you my notes later, okay? Meanwhile, do you want to take the vow or not? Do you want to help us?”

———-

And that’s the END!! Augh!! What a cliffhanger, huh?!! Catch ya later. I may be posting again soon because we have been getting a lot of rain.

June 11, 2010