Review!
Ana Turtle: This is my first time writing on Fanfiction I hope you'll enjoy my story!
Link: Ana Turtle12 doesn't own anything except the plot and her OC!
….REVIEW!!!!.......
_________________________Chapter 1____________________________________________________
She was an orphan.
Destined to be sold into slavery.
All because of that one difference.
She used to blame it on herself.
Her 'masters' forced her to hide beneath cloaks as she worked till blisters festered on her hands. Mind you she was still happy! Though silent with every one around her she wrote in the confinements of her rooms, closets, and such. She always found a way for hope to linger in her heart.
Once again
Her journey would start.
"Ahhhh!" I cried as a whip cracked against me knowing once again I had been to slow for the slave drivers taste …or he just happened to be bored with his job.
I sped my walking pace to his liking and decided to dwell on something other than the aching in my back, looking forward as a mansion came crawling eerily into view. It's intricately designed glass windows where dark with dirt and looked as if it had not been wiped in years; the dead shriveled grass grew in random uneven patches as dead trees grew like weeds near the rusted black fence surrounding the land. The roof's shingles where uneven and struck out at random places as the stone bricks looked like carelessly hacked at rock. Altogether a real face to face run down mansion. 'Oh dang' I thought icily. 'What fun will it be to clean this whole place up.'
"OW!" I cried as the slave driver once again cracked his whip and actually said "Quit day dreaming girl."
'Gosh that is a good reason to whip me!' I screamed sarcastically in my head!
Finally we stopped in front of the castle as a man in a dark cloak came into view.
The slave driver stuttered in fear 'pusht wimp I scoffed in my head.'
"Lelu; age s-s-s-seventeen; is being s-s-sold at twe-twe-twenty f-f-five gold."
'Sigh……you'd think I'd be worth a little more; even a dog costs more than that.' I thought.
I stayed silent, like I had for years as the man in the cloak glared distastefully at me and drawled "Hardly worth it… I'll take her."
Tossing the coins to the slave driver he took my chains and led me inside as the large almost black oak doors creaked open.
_ _ _ _
As the doors slammed shut behind me I waited for instructions.
The man stopped and pointed a leather clad finger up at dark dusty old stairs that twisted up as the hand rail was carved into snakes twisting and coiling up... "Clean the attic for today. I'll come at 9:00… And don't be late!" He barked out last part of the command and watched as I climbed the stairs.
When I arrived to the top of the stairs I saw a beaten termite chewed door and pushed it open.
As I peered my head in hesitantly; I quickly opened the door and stood in awe as the artifacts of old and valuable tools lay undusted.
A sword was strewn carelessly on a shelf as its ruby incrusted hilt still shined under the thick layer of dust, a bow made of an unknown wood with intricately carved designs in the handle,
And arrows lay strewn across the floor near the bow with swan feather fletchings to guide them.
When my eyes fell on a book I thought 'why would a book be here with all these war weapons?' I reached for the book and lifted it to my eye level and blew on the cracked leather cover leaving a cloud of dust in the afternoon sun.
It revealed a severely cracked leather cover with rusted bronze clasps held it together. I pocketed it and set to work.
I hummed as I worked dusting and wiping the windows clean.
When I was done dusting I stared out the window and saw the sun fall behind the rolling hills as I thought 'just a while longer then you'll be free.'
I looked and found a small hoop that struck out the wall as I put the shined sword in it, it seemed glow. I found other hoops and placed the bow on as found an ivory quiver for the arrows. I worked till stars started to appear in the darkening sky. I could feel my hands ache with the knowledge I'd have blisters to deal with the next day.
Finally done, I realized I still had an hour before 9:00.
Suddenly as I sat down I felt a lump push against my side when I remembered the old book. I looked around, and pulled it out of the pocket in my dark forest green cloak.
I opened the book to the first page as its crinkled parchment greeted my eyes.
It had a picture of a forest green cloak held together by a gold leaf with a figure singing in the wind to a silent field as the sun rose in the distance.
I turned the page and saw several riddles, it was written by hand as the old ink told a secret of its own. She began to read.
What is something more valuable than silver or gold?
A gift
Only granted when you are old
What is a gift?
Made to spite human nature
Sword of a hero
Sheathed in self sacrifice
A gift of the gods
That mortal's yearn for
May even kill for
A pedestal they stand on for only so long
Before smitten down by a just man's sword
So what did you guys think?
Review and I'll Know!