Chapter 1 - The Loose Floorboard
Submitted November 27, 2006 Updated March 8, 2007 Status Incomplete | First 5 chapters of this is on a laptop,which I don't have with me but Im bored so Ill put this chapter on anyway. P.S. The harp is a present from him to her by the way (Chapter 6).
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Fantasy » Dragons » Winged Serpents |
Chapter 1 - The Loose Floorboard
Chapter 1 - The Loose Floorboard
Chapter 1: The Loose Floorboard
Once upon a time, in a mystical planet called Tybolt, a beautiful baby girl was born, a princess. What her parents didn’t know though, was that in twenty four years their little baby would one day save the world and everyone in it…
After a few days they named her Claire. Twenty four years later, Claire had grown to be a mature, intelligent woman who’s looks were talked about throughout the land. She was so radiant and beautiful that men everywhere were literally queuing up at the door to be joined with her in holy matrimony. Claire didn’t want any of them. They only liked her for her face. She wanted more, more than those vain pompous jerks out there could ever give her.
One day she was sitting at her bedroom window, looking at the latest losers that were lined up at her door. Some of them had been there all week, and didn’t look like they were leaving anytime soon.
“Do they ever quit?” Claire mumbled to herself, before pulling the curtains, standing and walking from the window.
She collapsed in a heap on her mahogany four-poster bed, then sat up, her white silk dress gliding across her legs as she did so. She grabbed a pillow and sat there, hugging it, trying to take her mind off the scandalous world she lives in. She scanned her room;
At her left was her wardrobe that stretched almost for the full length of the wall. It was mahogany too, like the rest of the furniture. A beautiful, swirl design was sketched on it, with amethyst jewels dotted at random throughout the drawing. It definitely was the most gorgeous piece of wood craftsmanship known to man, and the rest of the furniture were very close runner-ups. No matter how amazing the wardrobe was, it was what it contained that was important; hundreds of pieces of clothes were hung up, all made with the finest fabrics; silks, velvets, each as stunning as the next. Claire hated her furniture; she hated how many trees had been cut down just for…her; things shouldn’t have to suffer for her to be happy. Her father had had them specially made for her, no matter what she thought of them, so why bother telling him and hurting his feelings?
In the right corner of the lilac painted room was a massive mound of gifts, all from the richer men that once wanted her, intending to bribe her into marrying them. They were turned away, and they stalked off on their horses, carriages and on random occasions, elephants. These gifts were from men from the earlier days, when there were fewer queuing up at her door. Now Claire didn’t even bother to accept the gifts people brought with them, mainly because there were so many being offered, and also because she took it as an insult, as if she could be bought.
Fluffy teddy bears, heart-shaped boxes filled with posh chocolates, billions of bouquets, all horribly tacky gifts. No substance or any sentimental value. Not one person actually thinking what she would truly love to get. Except one. Claire had a hidden secret and she never, and would never tell anyone about it, about Him. ‘His’ gift she kept under a loose floorboard, the loose floorboard she had found in her room when she was six; She had been playing with her knights and dragons (“Unusual toys for a girl…” her father said every time he saw her with them) when she had accidentally overturned it. She kept her most private possessions in it ever sense; a music box that was given to her by her mother on her first birthday, a toy dragon her father had given her which she had kept because even though her father thought that toy knights & dragons were for boys, he had still given her that ruby red-horned dragon. It was the first shred of a chance that he had shown that he had accepted her for who she is, or that he was beginning to. Last but not least, she kept the gift that “He” had once given her here. It was a scale. A scale from a real, enormous, fire-breathing, damsel distressing, town destroying, winged dragon! The scale was of many colours; blues, blacks, purples, greens, pinks and it shimmered in the moonlight. When He had given it to her, six years ago, He had said to her;
“This scale that you receive from me is from the first dragon that I ever slayed. It is heard that if a knight takes a scale from a dragon’s wing and gives it to his first love, then no matter how far the knight and the damsel are apart, they will forever be connected, linked by their love for one another, and by the mystical power of the dragons.” then he gave it to her, kissed her cheek, then disappeared into the dark of the night.
He had said it the night before he had to go to war, the last time she ever saw Him. He went to fight, and just, never returned. His body, they had said, had disappeared at the end of the final battle, and no one had even saw Him be struck down. They told Claire’s parents (Claire listened from the top of the stairs) that there was only a minuscule chance that He was still alive, and that they should give up hope. They said that they were sorry for Claire’s loss, but that they couldn’t keep searching. After two years of looking, He was never found.
On the night that everyone who had been searching for Him had given up, and had condemned Him as dead, Claire returned to the place where she had received the scale. She stood on the cliff that she had seen Him for the last time on, and looked out towards the sea. Miles and miles of water lay ahead of her, and the sun was setting to the west. She had strung the scale onto a piece of ribbon to make a scale pendant, which she had been wearing around her neck as she stood there. She raised her hand & clasped the scale in her fist, then closed her eyes. She breathed in the sea air, and whispered, “No matter how far the knight and the damsel are apart, they will forever be connected, linked by their love for one another, and by the mystical power of the dragons. I’ll wait for you.” She opened her eyes as a single tear fell from the left eye, then she pulled up the hood of the cloak she was wearing, jumped on her white horse and galloped away, her cloak blowing in the wind as she went.
That was two years ago, and everyone supposed she had forgotten about Him, but she would never forget, never.
Back in the present now, Claire fell to the floor on her knees and lifted up the loose floorboard, ignoring the fact that her father would be angry if she dirtied up her dress. She lifted up a fancy silver and red velvet box that had a little silver winged dragon coiled on the top. She opened the lid, and inside, on a crushed-velvet cushion, was the scale, still on that piece of ribbon. Claire brought it out and went over to the huge full-length mirror that was on the wall to the right of the bed. She tied the pendant at the back of her neck and stared at herself in the mirror. The pendant swayed slightly, and then something happened. Did Claire’s eyes deceive her, or did the scale just… glow?
Once upon a time, in a mystical planet called Tybolt, a beautiful baby girl was born, a princess. What her parents didn’t know though, was that in twenty four years their little baby would one day save the world and everyone in it…
After a few days they named her Claire. Twenty four years later, Claire had grown to be a mature, intelligent woman who’s looks were talked about throughout the land. She was so radiant and beautiful that men everywhere were literally queuing up at the door to be joined with her in holy matrimony. Claire didn’t want any of them. They only liked her for her face. She wanted more, more than those vain pompous jerks out there could ever give her.
One day she was sitting at her bedroom window, looking at the latest losers that were lined up at her door. Some of them had been there all week, and didn’t look like they were leaving anytime soon.
“Do they ever quit?” Claire mumbled to herself, before pulling the curtains, standing and walking from the window.
She collapsed in a heap on her mahogany four-poster bed, then sat up, her white silk dress gliding across her legs as she did so. She grabbed a pillow and sat there, hugging it, trying to take her mind off the scandalous world she lives in. She scanned her room;
At her left was her wardrobe that stretched almost for the full length of the wall. It was mahogany too, like the rest of the furniture. A beautiful, swirl design was sketched on it, with amethyst jewels dotted at random throughout the drawing. It definitely was the most gorgeous piece of wood craftsmanship known to man, and the rest of the furniture were very close runner-ups. No matter how amazing the wardrobe was, it was what it contained that was important; hundreds of pieces of clothes were hung up, all made with the finest fabrics; silks, velvets, each as stunning as the next. Claire hated her furniture; she hated how many trees had been cut down just for…her; things shouldn’t have to suffer for her to be happy. Her father had had them specially made for her, no matter what she thought of them, so why bother telling him and hurting his feelings?
In the right corner of the lilac painted room was a massive mound of gifts, all from the richer men that once wanted her, intending to bribe her into marrying them. They were turned away, and they stalked off on their horses, carriages and on random occasions, elephants. These gifts were from men from the earlier days, when there were fewer queuing up at her door. Now Claire didn’t even bother to accept the gifts people brought with them, mainly because there were so many being offered, and also because she took it as an insult, as if she could be bought.
Fluffy teddy bears, heart-shaped boxes filled with posh chocolates, billions of bouquets, all horribly tacky gifts. No substance or any sentimental value. Not one person actually thinking what she would truly love to get. Except one. Claire had a hidden secret and she never, and would never tell anyone about it, about Him. ‘His’ gift she kept under a loose floorboard, the loose floorboard she had found in her room when she was six; She had been playing with her knights and dragons (“Unusual toys for a girl…” her father said every time he saw her with them) when she had accidentally overturned it. She kept her most private possessions in it ever sense; a music box that was given to her by her mother on her first birthday, a toy dragon her father had given her which she had kept because even though her father thought that toy knights & dragons were for boys, he had still given her that ruby red-horned dragon. It was the first shred of a chance that he had shown that he had accepted her for who she is, or that he was beginning to. Last but not least, she kept the gift that “He” had once given her here. It was a scale. A scale from a real, enormous, fire-breathing, damsel distressing, town destroying, winged dragon! The scale was of many colours; blues, blacks, purples, greens, pinks and it shimmered in the moonlight. When He had given it to her, six years ago, He had said to her;
“This scale that you receive from me is from the first dragon that I ever slayed. It is heard that if a knight takes a scale from a dragon’s wing and gives it to his first love, then no matter how far the knight and the damsel are apart, they will forever be connected, linked by their love for one another, and by the mystical power of the dragons.” then he gave it to her, kissed her cheek, then disappeared into the dark of the night.
He had said it the night before he had to go to war, the last time she ever saw Him. He went to fight, and just, never returned. His body, they had said, had disappeared at the end of the final battle, and no one had even saw Him be struck down. They told Claire’s parents (Claire listened from the top of the stairs) that there was only a minuscule chance that He was still alive, and that they should give up hope. They said that they were sorry for Claire’s loss, but that they couldn’t keep searching. After two years of looking, He was never found.
On the night that everyone who had been searching for Him had given up, and had condemned Him as dead, Claire returned to the place where she had received the scale. She stood on the cliff that she had seen Him for the last time on, and looked out towards the sea. Miles and miles of water lay ahead of her, and the sun was setting to the west. She had strung the scale onto a piece of ribbon to make a scale pendant, which she had been wearing around her neck as she stood there. She raised her hand & clasped the scale in her fist, then closed her eyes. She breathed in the sea air, and whispered, “No matter how far the knight and the damsel are apart, they will forever be connected, linked by their love for one another, and by the mystical power of the dragons. I’ll wait for you.” She opened her eyes as a single tear fell from the left eye, then she pulled up the hood of the cloak she was wearing, jumped on her white horse and galloped away, her cloak blowing in the wind as she went.
That was two years ago, and everyone supposed she had forgotten about Him, but she would never forget, never.
Back in the present now, Claire fell to the floor on her knees and lifted up the loose floorboard, ignoring the fact that her father would be angry if she dirtied up her dress. She lifted up a fancy silver and red velvet box that had a little silver winged dragon coiled on the top. She opened the lid, and inside, on a crushed-velvet cushion, was the scale, still on that piece of ribbon. Claire brought it out and went over to the huge full-length mirror that was on the wall to the right of the bed. She tied the pendant at the back of her neck and stared at herself in the mirror. The pendant swayed slightly, and then something happened. Did Claire’s eyes deceive her, or did the scale just… glow?
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