Novel Treatments / Chapter 1: In the beginning
Chapter One: In the Beginning
A boy sat silently on a mat of straw and tattered cloth, his face hidden by his hair. If you could see through the tangled mess, you would see he was staring at apparently nothing; daydreaming. It was his fifteenth birthday; he had just turned a man. Nothing could have spoiled this day, except the harsh labors of a slave, which could not be ignored this day as much as any day.
The other slaves passed him, nodding to him, but he didn’t notice. Yes, he had just become a man, but no one cared. He was only one out of eight-hundred people who had to work today, and every slave in the household only thought of the day ahead of them, and not a boy’s passing into manhood.
The boy sighed, breaking his trance, then stood up and walked slowly to a sliver mirror hanging on the door. At least the Master had let the slaves have the luxury of looking at themselves in the morning. The boy started trying to fix his hair a little bit, so that it at least looked flat, but after a few tries to brush his hair with his fingers, he gave up. He scanned his face, looking at his peculiar features.
He had never looked anything like the other slaves, all of which had the same basic physical and facial appearances. Chestnut skin, brown hair, almond shaped eyes, and they were usually short and rotund, even though they were often at starvation point. He, on the other hand was pale, tall, and unnaturally slim, which no doubt had to do with the lack of food. His face had an almost childish look to it, as if age would never change the child within. Thick eyebrows rested on intense green eyes, and black hair often shadowed his face to make his skin tone seem less unnatural. A few dark freckles here and there added contrast to his pale face. Overall, he did not look anything like a full-grown man.
Unfortunately, that was not the only difference. His past was also estranged from the other slaves. Endillas had been found five years ago by a band of slave catchers at the edge of a forest he had long forgotten the name of. He had been unconscious; bleeding to death from a shoulder wound caused by some sort of blade. He had no belongings, except a silver ring studded with three green stones-which the Master had taken long ago-, and a leaf which read his name. When he woke up, Endillas had been able to remember nothing of his previous life, not even his name, which thankfully had been written on the leaf. That was the one thing Endillas had been able to hold onto these last five years, a name.
As Endillas looked in repulse at his atypical features, his eyes fell upon the leather collar around his neck. Embroidered on the leather were random, swirling lines, and at each end, there were frills made out of purple fabric, which made Endillas’s skin itch. Fashion was the one reason for the beauty of the collar, but all Endillas saw was mockery; it was more like a reminder of its value and beauty, placed on the slaves that were considered lower than dogs. It was the one thing that marked him as a slave, the one thing that deprived him of his freedom. He scowled, and in disgust he grabbed the mirror and threw it as hard as he could into the wall. It did nothing and that infuriated him even more. He picked it up, and just as he was going to hurl it at the wall again, a hand grabbed his arm.
“Stop it Endillas, the overseer is going to see you throwing that tantrum, and then you’ll get it. For once it won’t be my fault either.” said a voice. The voice was that of Endillas’s only friend in the household, Raya. Endillas dropped the mirror, and spun around to look at his friend. His usually dark features brightened dramatically by his mischievous smile, a smile he was well known for.
“Happy birthday, Endillas,” he said,” and don’t look at me that way, it makes me feel depressed. Anyway, your day cant be as bad as you think it’s going to be because I’ve got a birthday present for you, and you better like it.” Raya winked. “It’s under that straw mat we slaves call a bed.” Endillas grinned. Raya always managed to make him fell like the luckiest person in the world. “ Now there’s the smile I’ve been waiting to see all morning.” said Raya elatedly. “ But what’s the point of a smile if you’ve got nothing to show for it? I say get your manly present and meet me in the common room.” With that, Raya whirled around and disappeared among the crowd of lethargic slaves.
Endillas stood there, wishing Raya didn’t have the bad habit not being there when he was wanted and being there when he wasn’t. Endillas sighed wearily and started searching in the straw mat for his present. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. By the time he found it, the small hut was deserted, but he was pleased with what he found.
It was only slightly bigger than his hand, but it was thick. It was wrapped in cloth, preferably one of Raya’s old tunics. It was held together with four leather straps intersecting together to make what could be considered a bow. Typical of Raya to make it nearly impossible to open. Thought Endillas, slightly irritated. The bad habits were starting to pile up. He took one of the leather straps and bit it as hard as he could. Surprisingly, it broke easily, making opening the present the easiest thing he was going to do all day. Now excited, Endillas rapidly ripped off what was left of the leather straps and opened the gift. What he saw brung tears to his eyes.
The present was a book so elaborately decorated and beautiful it momentarily blinded him. The cover was made with green velvet. Imprinted with silver at the center was an incredibly detailed tree. Silver lines spiraled around it, and at the bottom were letters stating what Endillas thought was probably the title. The edges of each individual page were encrusted with silver, giving the illusion that the book itself was silver.
Guilt and shame overwhelmed Endillas as he mumbled three words, “I can’t read.” He slowly passed his hand over the velvet, letting its smooth surface caress his skin. He let a tear flow down his cheek and drip from his face onto the cover of the book, leaving a wet spot on the flawless velvet. He quickly wrapped the book in Raya’s old tunic, being careful to not cause any more damage to the book. Then he gingerly slipped it under his straw mat and made his way out of the cabin and into the frigid air of the northern morning.
* * *
The “common room” was little more than a rotting hut where slaves of the higher class ate their meager breakfast. The slaves of the higher class where basically messengers and healers, and occasionally the social sentry who decided to dine somewhere other than the barracks. Endillas was a messenger because of his quick feet. When a slave is first bought, they are tested in numerous areas. Some of which included stamina, speed, and common sense. If they didn’t pass at least two, the owners would look for other talents. Some ended up as healers, as cooks, or even as laundry women. For Endillas it had been an easy test, as soon as the overseer had seen him run, he was sent to work as a messenger.
Unfortunately, for Endillas, the common room was on the other side of the slave district of the manor, and he already faced being beaten for his tardiness by the overseer. If work began without him, he would most likely be whipped in front of all the other slaves as a lasting lesson that disobedience would not be tolerated. Endillas had the feeling it would not be a pleasant experience.
Driven by this revelation, Endillas ran at full speed across the barren spit of land. He ran past hundreds of rotting huts, all of which had a striking similarity to the next one, and all of them were deserted.
The day had warmed up rapidly; from the frigid air that he had first felt to now this, scorching heat. The sun had already risen high, giving Endillas a terrible feeling at the pit of his stomach. I tarried to long, and now I’m going to pay. He thought, the terrible feeling evolving into pure dread. I’m going to kill Raya. Instinctively blaming his predicament on his only friend.
Endillas had been whipped numerous times, often for no apparent reason at all. He had the scars to prove it. But each time he had been reminded of something terrible, something he simply could not remember. He had sometimes even fainted from the coldness and horror he felt when the whip first touched his bare back. Endillas had always assumed it was probably part of an unfortunate experience from his forgotten childhood.
The elements seemed to be against him today, for the wind began blowing against him, whipping sand into his face and mouth, causing him to slow down considerably. From sheer bad luck, he accidentally stepped into a puddle filled with mud, and the mud caused him to fall in, dirtying his already filthy clothes. Though the mud had cooled his feet down for a few seconds, as soon as he stepped back on the sand they began to blister from the heat.
When Endillas finally reached the common room, his bare feet were exceptionally dirty and blistery. The sun had warmed the dry soil to an almost unbearable temperature, leaving Endillas with roasting skin to add on to the pain.
Endillas grinned as he heard voices in the common room; he would not be whipped after all. He walked in silently, thanking the gods for coolness inside the hut. He quickly scanned the room for Raya, finding him almost immediately. Raya was being his usual self, obnoxious and loud. He was joking with a few of the sentries who had decided to eat their breakfast with a different group of slaves for a change.
Endillas approached them silently, and sat beside Raya on a wooden bench. He had hoped Raya would ignore him and keep on talking with the sentries, but he didn’t. Instead, Raya said his name with unnecessary force and asked,“ So, did you like your present?”
Endillas flinched and simply nodded. He stole a glance at the sentries, hoping one of them would look different, but they looked ordinary. There were two, dressed in rusty mail, tarnished silver helms, and leather jerkins. Their weapons were splayed on the table, a long sword and a spear. One of the sentries carried a bow and a quiver. He looked at Endillas suspiciously, no doubt noting his strange features. The other sentry simply ignored Endillas, intensely interested with the scratches on the table.
Raya looked from the sentries to Endillas, and laughed. “ Of course, I haven’t introduced you! Endillas, this is Geir,” said Raya, pointing to the one with the peculiar interest with the rotting table,” and this is Rendor.” He pointed to the other sentry. “ Rendor and Geir, this is Endillas. “
The sentries nodded, both of them avoiding Endillas’s gaze. Endillas was used to being treated as an outcast because of his appearance; at this point, he didn’t really care anymore. He had learned to prefer always sitting in a corner, watching Raya make a fool out of himself.
That was exactly what Raya was doing now. While Endillas had been busy with his own thoughts, Raya had left his side and wandered over to the center of the floor, attracting all the attentions of the other slaves who were in the hut. To make it worse, he began singing a ridiculous ballad, often acting the lyrics out. The other slaves stared, and then began to join in as Raya came to a chorus that was well known among all slaves:
The sun is high, my back is sore
the whip comes a little too close to me.
My granny wails, my honey coos
And I sit there, lonesome be I,
Wonderin’ were my ale may be.
I sit there wishin’ I were dead,
Or at least asleep in my ole bed,
But no rest for this poor ‘ole soul,
When the devils at the door.
Endillas sank further into his seat, feeling more than a little embarrassed. The slaves would be talking about this one for weeks. He looked at the rotting wood that made the hut, and he looked at the sun seeping through the randomly sized slits that made it possible to discern one plank of wood from the next. Dust particles swirled around in the sunlight, often knocking into each other. He sat forward, looking into one of the larger slits. All he saw was a pile of firewood, but as he looked up, he saw blue sky.
Now curious, he stood up and looked again. The blazing sun met his gaze this time, and Endillas flinched from the brightness. It took a few seconds for his sight to adjust, but he soon realized it had been worth it. Mountains loomed high up above, but still miles away. The sun shone openly between two of the mountains. Up high in the heavens, the moon said its last farewells, looming threateningly above the sun, as if telling her that he would return.
A curiosity suddenly was aroused in Endillas that very rarely was awakened. He suddenly wished he could climb those mountains and see what wonders lay beyond them. He wished he could see their majesty up close instead of miles away in a rotting hut where slaves ate what was given to them like dogs.
Endillas scowled in disgust, shunning society for what it had done to its children. He slumped down in his bench, burying the scene and his feelings deep within himself.
Now he focused on the sentries; they looked like pleasant men. Endillas considered talking with them, but he soon realized they had long forgotten him, being too busy adding their vocals to the many voices that had joined in to sing with Raya.
Just as Raya was getting ready to act out the finale, a horn blew far in the distance; it was the call for the slaves to enter their labor in the fields and elsewhere. The slaves began filling out of the hut, pushing and shoving each other to get out first. The reason being the overseer beat those who came out last, and the current overseer often lashed out at more than the last few.
Raya spun around and glared at Endillas. Endillas smirked, he knew Raya loved attention, and when it was taken away, he often threw fits. Endillas reluctantly said farewell to the bench and began to walk towards the door, beckoning Raya to follow. With much pushing and shoving, they managed to get past the desperate slaves, though both had earned quite a few bruises from anonymous elbows.
Raya quickly walked away from Endillas as soon as they were free from the unbearable stench of sweat coming from the overseer. Endillas ignored Raya, but looked back to the overseer. He had stationed himself beside the door, watching like a vulture for any tarrying slaves, his whip ready. Endillas stared in horror as he began whipping two slaves who had unfortunately come out last. They were girls, and as Endillas looked closer, he saw that they were twins, though it had been difficult to tell because of the dirt that encrusted their faces in a sickening way that made Endillas’s heart crumble.
The scene was gruesome, cries of pain cut into the usually silent air and blood pooled in the dirt as the overseer repeatedly whipped them. Their clothes turned crimson, and their olive skins were now turned darker because of the blood. Ten lashes on the back, and if the overseer was in the mood, more. Endillas knew the rules well. Too well, he realized as anger erupted inside him and flowed through his veins, seeming to burn his insides from the pain. He looked away, vowing to repay the man for what he did.
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
It was very good,but you gave to much detail and sometimes you repeted the same details.In some parts main character thought something And you didnt put ” and you did not slant it.And you had some spelling erros.In some parts you put the ” were it wasent supposed to go.Keep going you are doing great!!!!!!!!
- add/view comments (0)
I would be impressed if this idea had come from an adult and doubly impressed that it has come from an adolescent.
I have story, I have information and I care. You’ve met my three primary critieria for reading chapter two of any novel I pick up.
I get a strong sense of the brutality that Endillas and Raya are subjected to and yet they have a tremendous endurance of spirit and strong comraderie between them.
You’ve done wonderful work at setting the tone and atmosphere of this story. You show a remarkable maturity for such a young author in both style and substance.
I would read more of this and I hope you post some soon. Thank you for sharing this!
This is a really good piece. It was engaging. The dialogue is realistic. There are some questions as to the setting- where and when, Earth- future? past? What type of government? This is all stuff that you’ll need to answer in time I think.
Nice twist about Endillas’s past that leaves some mystery in the character. I like your ending.
I would work on spicing up my prose a bit. I always like to start with a bang and end with a bang. For example, this might be a nice way of rewording your last sentence to demand the rewarder’s attention.
He shifted his steely gaze and silently vowed a debt of blood vengeance to the man for the cowardly deed.
This is amazing work for your age! Keep writing!
Best,
Stevie Rey
December 30, 2006
Deleted User
Very interesting era and subject matter that you have chosen. It’s quite intriguing. The story, from the beginning, draws you in. You take you time with descriptors and I rather enjoy that. The story flows well, but you can tell you struggled here; “under the straw mat we slaves call a bed”, and here; ” His bare feet were exceptionally dirty and blistery.” Try adding the fact that the mats are beds in the story, not as dialogue, for the characters know this already and do not need to tell each other. As well, simply use adjectives to dirty and blistery, for they are overused in this instance.
Otherwise, this is a very strong plot and I look forward to reading more.
It’s a good start. I enjoyed the read you used great description of Endillas’ role at the camp and how he came by it. I see alot happening with this story. Keep up the good work.
Could you describe the “Common Room” more?
i think the begining needs to be more enticing. you need more of a hook because it gets intresting, but it still needs that hook, that grab.
A gripping story. Some wordy parts, but overall it’s good. Writing novels i hard; keep trying! This has the potential for greatness. Keep it up!
Good Evening. I thoroughly enjoyed reading your chapter titled, “In the beginning”. To tell you the truth, I thought it was my own work gone awry as I’ve a piece posted with that title, too!
For 13, I think you are well on your way to becoming a writer! I’m very impressed with how you know ‘how’ to tell a story. You’ve a graceful narrative appeal. Well done.
Many beginning writers many little mistakes that are easily rectified. One little mistake you make continually is pussy-footing around your prose by using passive words, like, ‘could be’, ‘began to’, and ‘had been found’. Take the latter: “Endillas had been found five years ago by a band of slave catchers at the edge of a forest . . .” Here all you have to do is move the clauses around to rid the sentence of the superfluous… Like: Five years ago, a band of slave catchers found Endillas at the endge of a . . . See how the sentence becomes much more active? Look through your work for these weak words and simply play with the clauses in your sentences. You’ll be surprised at how easy it is!
I really liked the imagery and sentiment behind this sentence: “Up high in the heavens, the moon said its last farewells, looming threateningly above the sun, as if telling her that he would return.” Well done!
“Too well, he realized as anger erupted inside him and flowed through his veins, seeming to burn his insides from the pain.” A word of caution here, watch how many times you use pronouns in your sentences; try to edit some of them out. Quite often they can simply be replaced by descriptive words, such as: ”Too well, he realized as burning anger erupted inside myriad pulsating blue veins which seemed to burn pain deep inside.” That’s off the top of my head and I’d fiddle with it more, but it’s okay for an example.
Good luck with your writing and I look forward to watching you progress!
—Mary Louise
Your beginning was one tha caught my attention immeadiatly and kept it through the whole Chapter – a trait which I feel is need for all stories.
I feel that this story has amazing potential to be published, something I hope you’ll work toward.
I hope you continue writing and enjoy what you are doing.
This could be a lot better if you went back and took out the passive voice phases in it.
there are a lot of grammer errors, but nothing that can”t be changed.
If you use the spelling and grammer checker with style you’ll see what I mean.
Watch you fragment sentenaces like:
I’m going to kill Raya. Instinctively blaming his predicament on his only friend.
Try something like:
I’m going to kill Raya, instinctively blaming his predicament on his only friend.
You’re on the right track.
Showing 1 - 10 of 25
Next →
Review item
Add to faves
GENERAL
REVIEW QUEUE
Ratings & Rankings
| Version 2 |
| Version 1 |