This was a short story I wrote for English as practice for the HSPA. You know those essays where they give you a picture and you have to write a story about it? Yea. This picture was a letter in a bottle with the word 'congress' on it at the beach. I got an A+ for this ^_^

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In Fanelia, on the planet Gaea, there was a good, true, and righteous king named Van Fanel. He always did anything possible to help his people and country but he had a deep, dark secret. This secret was the one thing that could turn his people against him, for he was of a cursed clan. Van Fanel was a Draconian, a winged, seemingly angelic, mad whose ancestry was rumored to have brought an end to Atlantis, the lost city of gold. He knew the truth, and the truth was that Atlantis was very much so still intact.

Why did he know this, one may ask? It was because not only was Van the king of Fanelia, but he was the king of Atlantis as well. Keeping in touch with the congress of Atlantis through a telepathic means, he helped keep the community and city at peace. But one not so special day, an urgent message came to him begging and pleading for him to come back for Atlantis was falling to shambles. Quickly bidding his wife, Hitomi, and his faithful best friend, Merle, farewell, he pumped his wings and glided off to his precious Atlantis.

After many days, hours, minutes, and seconds of endless and frantic flying King Van reached the surreptitious, magical gates to Atlantis and landed. Folding his wings, he looked around for any suspicious onlookers and found none. But during this notice a flashing gleam by some rocks. He slowly walked over and found a bottle with a note inside. He quickly smashed the bottle open on a rock and unrolled the letter. His eyes widened and then narrowed at the heading, it read "Congress of Atlantis." Scanning through the plea of help to the outside world, he crumbled the letter in his hand as he made a fist of anger. He quickly dashed through the portal and into Atlantis but stopped as soon as he entered.

He gazed around in awe and found his precious Atlantis in flames. The buildings were wrecked, the earth shattered and only dust, and floating through the air were feathers. Sparkling white feathers, like the very feathers on his own set of wings. He had failed them. He had brought the end to Atlantis because he was not swift enough. And so it was true. Draconians, the winged and cursed people, had brought Atlantis to its end.