Freedom and a Dragon

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Freedom and a Dragon

It was a hot, summer day in Farlock, when I was washing the dishes and the laundry for “The Master.” The Master was my owner. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a big hooked nose, also strong and cruel. In my opinion, his heart was made of lead. He never let a slave escape, and if one tried to, he would kill it. I thought about escaping often, but never tried it because I was afraid of death. He was known for his wealth, and how he treated his slaves. His name was Mr. Cartson.
Unfortunately, as I was finishing up laundry, he came in. With him was a little girl who looked to be nine or ten. She had blond hair and blue eyes that would have been pretty if they weren’t all puffy and red. She was crying uncontrollably as they entered.
“What?” I asked when he just stood their looking at the girl.
SLAP! He had slapped me! I howled with pain as I felt hot, red blood pour out of my nose. “Don’t talk to me in that tone, boy. You will teach her everything you know about these chores, and you will have three days to do it. You are needed out in the field to help pick corn. Now get busy!” He barked. He left the room soon, while I still stood there whimpering and pinching my nose until it stopped bleeding.
“What’s your name?” I asked trying to soothe the girl, after I had stopped crying myself.
“C-Claire. I want my momma and pappy!” She wailed.
“Follow me, Claire. Do as you’re told and you won’t get into trouble,” I explained. I led her to the Master’s room and showed her how to make the bed and where to put the clothes. I let her try and make the bed. She did fairly well. I perfected it and let her put the clothes away.
“Where’s Momma?” she asked.
“Momma will be back soon.” I told her, trying to comfort her. I turned around to lead the way to the last room. When we got there I looked back and saw her slip into the FORBIDDEN ROOM. The Master said that any slave that enters will die! “Claire,” I called softly. She didn’t come.
I went in after her and saw bags of money, big and small. I saw shelves and shelves full of collectables. I quickly pocketed two small sacks of coins and then something caught my eye. A magenta egg. Light seemed to be coming from the egg as it sparkled in the sunlight. I felt strangely attracted to it. I felt my arm reach out to touch it on its own accord. As I touched it, a swirl of color ran through my mind. Right away I knew what the egg was. It was a dragon egg. My uncle on the other plantation had told me stories about them. I never thought they were real. I grabbed it, wrapped it in a dirty towel I found, grabbed Claire and ran out of there with the egg. Fortunately we didn’t get caught.
“Claire, that room is forbidden. You mustn’t go in there anymore,” I explained.
I let her make the bed in the last room. Sarah’s room. She was the Master’s daughter. I told her where Sarah’s clothes went as I put them in the right drawers.
“Now, time to go to the cabins. Our work is done for today.”
I showed her where the three girls’ cabins were, and then went to mine.
“Did you hear the latest news?” Chance asked. Chance was short and had red hair and freckles. He was thirteen like me.
“No! What is it?” I asked.
“Well there’s been a break in supposedly. Somebody took off with two bags full of money and a really old egg. Why would anyone want to keep an egg?”
“That was me. Besides it‘s no ordinary egg. It’s a dragon egg,” I whispered to him.
“You’d better run for your life,” Chance exclaimed. “He really will kill you, especially if it is a dragon egg.”
“I’m running away tonight.”
I went to bed and pretended to sleep. When the moon was high overhead I got down from my bunk and packed a few weeks worth of provisions and the money I stole. I also grabbed the egg. I crept silently out of the cabin and ran. I ran into the great Margzan Forest. I didn’t stop running till I came to a clearing about fifteen minutes later. I rested and fell asleep. When I awoke, I started to get food out and eat, but I stopped. I had heard a voice.
“He went this way,” a husky voice yelled. I quickly threw my food into the cloth sack and grabbed the egg. With the clothes and food on my back, and the egg in my arm, I ran. As I was running, I heard the birds chirping and singing. I saw the beauty of the forest. “What a wonderful world I never knew,” I thought. I didn’t stop till I spotted a cave with a rotten piece of wood a few feet away, partly hidden in grass. I picked it up and draped some tall weeds over it and went into the cave. I covered the caves entrance with the wood and hid there till dark. There were a few holes in the wood that let light in, so I ate the dry bread, salted meat, and fruit. I came out at dark and ran. The trees got thicker and I heard strange sounds.
“SCREEEK! SCRICK!!!” I heard a loud scratching sound. It took me a moment to realize it was coming from the egg. It was hatching. Right then it hit me, I was the chosen one. The one for the dragon. I stopped running and set the egg down. “Crick, creek, scritch,” A crack appeared in it. The egg burst open and smoke filled the place. When the smoke cleared, I saw a little creature in the middle of the clearing where I had set the egg. It was a dragon. The dragon was a deep shade of Magenta with a light red stomach. Its Scales shone in the sunlight and almost blinded me for a minute. My eyes soon grew accustom. The dragon was so cute and I couldn’t help but reach down and touch it. As I did colors swirled in my head once more. Warmth and energy spread throughout my body.
I will take care of this dragon and I will keep it and raise it as my own. I Vowed. I was now free forever. I named my dragon Brute, that day. Over the years I guarded Brute and he guarded me, I fought with him and he fought with me, we flew on many long journeys and voyages together and we talked to each other. I also learned to read and write. I changed over time and I went back to rescue Claire and the others. Surprisingly they remembered me. So did the master. But Brute finished him and the rest of the slave owners off, while I freed all the slaves on the plantation. I gave them each money and kept the mansion. I am still living with Brute. He has always, and will always be my best friend. We still go out at night and fly on long journeys to the ocean and mountains, just to get a look at the beauty of nature and get a whiff of the salty air. We are inseparable. We have lead a long happy life and are now settled down in the mansion. I am old beyond years now as is my dragon. I love to tell little kids stories of how I escaped, how Brute and I fought away the giant of the north, and how we freed all the slaves from the Master. Till this day, kids from all over the land of Farlock come to hear our tales, and to sit on Brute. Brute is also content putting on little shows of fire breathing and giving the older kids rides.
The light of a new friendship is peaking out from the hills.




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I notice you're writing in a first person style. So is this how your character would actually tell the story? Is this how this character would talk?

There is not much personality of the nararator revealed through this and since we are hearing the story from this person's perspective, the reader should be able to really get to know this person just by the style.

When writing first person, you have to become that character, even with the style you write in.

Then again, I'm a psycho when it comes to characters so...

As always,

POKE




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Hi. Welcome to the site. Have you read the rules yet? You are to critique at least two other literary pieces before posting your own work.

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In my opinion, his heart was made of lead. He never let a slave escape, and if one tried to, he would kill it.


These are people you’re talking about, so ‘it’ would be replaced by ‘them’.

“What?” I asked when he just stood their looking at the girl.


Right. Would a slave really be that ‘rude’ towards their master if they knew the man was capable of killing slaves?

SLAP! He had slapped me! I howled with pain as I felt hot, red blood pour out of my nose.


Don’t add ‘sound effects’. Really don’t. Show what happens by movements. Where is the master and the girl standing? By the door? Beside the boy?

This is an example of what you could have done to show this. Suggestion: He towered over me and stooped. I knew what was about to happen and found I could not move because fear weakened me to stay still. The master leaned forward and struck a blow quite hard that I howled with pain.

“Don’t talk to me in that tone, boy. You will teach her everything you know about these chores, and you will have three days to do it. You are needed out in the field to help pick corn. Now get busy!” He barked. He left the room soon, while I still stood there whimpering and pinching my nose until it stopped bleeding.


The Master slapped him on the cheek, so why is his nose bleeding? I don’t understand that.

Also, each time a person speaks you need to start a new paragraph.


“What’s your name?” I asked trying to soothe the girl, after I had stopped crying myself.
“C-Claire. I want my momma and pappy!” She wailed.
“Follow me, Claire. Do as you’re told and you won’t get into trouble,” I explained.


Why doesn’t the boy introduce himself? The reader has no idea what his name is or anything else about him.

I turned around to lead the way to the last room. When we got there I looked back and saw her slip into the FORBIDDEN ROOM. The Master said that any slave that enters will die! “Claire,” I called softly. She didn’t come.


‘lead’ should be ‘led’.

Try: Forbidden Room.

It is not very believable that the master would kill a slave for entering the room. I would suggest he threatens to punish them with beatings/flogging or perhaps getting one of the other slaves to punish the unfortunate slave.


I went in after her and saw bags of money, big and small.


So the room is forbidden and the narrator does not show any emotion. If this was real life wouldn’t you creep around to see no one is looking? Wouldn’t you feel afraid?

Suggestion: For a moment I stood still. The girl had only been here no more than an hour (or your choice of time) and she was already causing trouble. I looked about me and checked to see if any other slave was present. I cautiously crept towards the room and entered. There, in large sacks (or what ever you fancy), were gold and silver coins of all sizes.

Do you see how you can create a better picture by showing more and adding real emotions to the boy?

I saw shelves and shelves full of collectables. I quickly pocketed two small sacks of coins and then something caught my eye. A magenta egg. Light seemed to be coming from the egg as it sparkled in the sunlight. I felt strangely attracted to it. I felt my arm reach out to touch it on its own accord. As I touched it, a swirl of color ran through my mind. Right away I knew what the egg was. It was a dragon egg. My uncle on the other plantation had told me stories about them. I never thought they were real. I grabbed it, wrapped it in a dirty towel I found, grabbed Claire and ran out of there with the egg.


How did he know it was a dragon egg? Simply saying he had heard stories is not enough evidence. You can find a goose egg and assume it is a chicken egg. What made him think it was a dragon’s? Right now it looks as if this boy knows things that we don’t. Think more carefully of ways to bring forth the ‘dragon egg’ idea.

Have you read Eragon or any other dragon story? You’ll see that although Eragon had heard dragon stories he didn’t think his egg was a dragon’s egg, he thought it was a stone of some sort.


“Did you hear the latest news?” Chance asked. Chance was short and had red hair and freckles. He was thirteen like me.


Try not to be repetitive. Chance was short with red hair and a dozen freckles dotted his face. We were both thirteen.

“No! What is it?” I asked.


That exclamation mark is not necessary. He isn’t shouting, just simply answering. Unless hewas panicing which you didn't state.

“Well there’s been a break in supposedly. Somebody took off with two bags full of money and a really old egg. Why would anyone want to keep an egg?”


The news travelled fast.

“That was me. Besides it‘s no ordinary egg. It’s a dragon egg,” I whispered to him.
“You’d better run for your life,” Chance exclaimed. “He really will kill you, especially if it is a dragon egg.”
“I’m running away tonight.”


I found it really hard to believe this. Would he really tell this other slave he had stolen the egg and money? Does the boy trust Chance enough to let him on in the secret? Are they friends, because they show no mutual feelings. Wouldn’t Chance betray the boy to get back at him?

I went to bed and pretended to sleep. When the moon was high overhead I got down from my bunk and packed a few weeks worth of provisions and the money I stole. I also grabbed the egg. I crept silently out of the cabin and ran. I ran into the great Margzan Forest. I didn’t stop running till I came to a clearing about fifteen minutes later. I rested and fell asleep. When I awoke, I started to get food out and eat, but I stopped. I had heard a voice.


Again something else you need to consider. Did the other slave boys know he leaving and didn’t any of them try to stop him?

Why does the boy stop after fifteen minutes? He is too close to home to even halt in a forest.


“He went this way,” a husky voice yelled. I quickly threw my food into the cloth sack and grabbed the egg. With the clothes and food on my back, and the egg in my arm, I ran. As I was running, I heard the birds chirping and singing. I saw the beauty of the forest. “What a wonderful world I never knew,” I thought.


Keep thought in italics and remove the speech marks.

I didn’t stop till I spotted a cave with a rotten piece of wood a few feet away, partly hidden in grass. I picked it up and draped some tall weeds over it and went into the cave. I covered the caves entrance with the wood and hid there till dark. There were a few holes in the wood that let light in, so I ate the dry bread, salted meat, and fruit. I came out at dark and ran. The trees got thicker and I heard strange sounds.


Didn’t the master or searchers happen to pass by the cave? What did the boy do during his hideout, apart from eating? This would have been a good time for him to think over what this egg was and how his master had gotten hold of it.

The dragon was a deep shade of Magenta with a light red stomach. Its Scales shone in the sunlight and almost blinded me for a minute. My eyes soon grew accustom. The dragon was so cute and I couldn’t help but reach down and touch it. As I did colors swirled in my head once more. Warmth and energy spread throughout my body.


Why are magenta and scales capitalised? This reminded me of Eragon when he had touched his dragon. Isn’t there another way for him to feel?

We have lead a long happy life and are now settled down in the mansion. I am old beyond years now as is my dragon.


‘lead’ should be ‘led’.

I have to say that the beginning drew me in. It was the master who gave it an impression to read further. But then he doesn’t appear at all. You talk about him but you don’t show him.

If he is the ‘villain’ you would need to bring him more often for the main character to react, to show that this man brought fear upon all his slaves and was merciless.

You need to think about giving explanation. I’ve asked many questions which came into mind while reading and that is why I have not got much out of this.

Make use of paragraphing. It is all smothered together and quite difficult to read.

I really did not like the end. I’m being honest here. It seems you rushed it, bringing everything they had done over the years into one long paragraph and it was in no way realistic. How long had he been away? Were two bags of gold enough for him to live on? What was this giant they had beaten?

If you wanted this to be a short story with suspense and mystery you could have gone for a cliffhanger. Leave the reader when the dragon and the boy are in the forest and have them walk off or something. That way the reader will think about possible stories/adventures the two could have had.

I hope my critique has helped and if you didn’t understand anything I’ve said let me know by PM.

-- Myth
.: ₪ :.

'...'



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