Hello everyone! I am so absolutely thrilled to present to you the very first chapter of Structure. If you didn't see my last two posts, I'm working on a story about dragons living in a distopian type world and have been sitting on this first chapter for a while and finally thought I'd post it here for you all to read.
Thank you so much for showing any interest at all in my story. I've worked very hard on it so far and I am beyond excited for what's to come in future characters.
Without any further delay I now present to you.
Structure Book 1
Chapter 1, The Watched
“Stay over there, delinquent!” A voice beated, its intense clamor flicked, almost like a metal hammer in her direction. “The females stay on this side and the males stay on that side. Don’t you understand plain dragon when it’s spoken to you?” It wretched.
“I was just looking, is it so wrong to look?” Staggered out gasps elevated from the crowd surrounding her. Eyes all glaring, more eyes than the usual watchers that surrounded them constantly. She understood why the Watchers were the way they were, but her fellow classmates?
Any mention to them about hope for; new things, new ideas or at the very least; eating something other than the usual mush they gave for lunch, was an abomination or an outside way to think. If the outside is even real.
“Wrong to look? Wrong to look!” It spat. Its breath smelled worse than its voice sounded. “When I was your age I followed every rule, on point, no mistakes. And now I stand as commander of the watching army. Looking gets you nowhere.” The Watcher stood straight up and flicked one ear towards the center of the line. His tongue slipped in and out snakily wisping across his front teeth and skeptically back in.
“Yeah and I’m sure being bred a Watcher has absolutely nothing to do with that,” she spoke under her breath in a whispered tone that wasn’t as whispered as she wanted it. The Watcher instantly breathed a smoke filled breath causing smoggy haze to cover the sky as he swiveled his head to stare directly into her eyes.
“If you weren’t the general's kin, I’d mount your head on a stick and let it rot in the center of town like our ancestors did.” He breathed, allowing more smoke to swivel up from his nostrils into her face. It was hard to keep from squinting away the burning sensation that followed as the ash lurked its way up into her eyes, but she wasn’t about to look away from him.
“Leave her be,” a wistful voice, a savior in the rummage, wreckage of the dome. “Don’t you have anything better to do than pick on innocent dragonlings like us? Or is your wife so far past her prime you have to make other ways to entertain yourself?”
Emerald, the great, strongly witted, questionably worded, Emerald. Everyone at our school always describes him as a gem. A diamond in the rust or whatever the elders say.
His beautiful scales showed Emerald green with splotches of lighter and darker patches speckled all across his canvas. Every boy wants to be with him and every girl is jealous of him. However all adults agree that he’s unnatural and shouldn’t be allowed with the other dragonlings. After all, his bloodline is impure, whatever that means.
“You! I thought I heard a different pair of insufferable talons. Don’t you know your place in line? Go back now or I might be more tempted to scrap up that old tradition.” He took one claw and arrowed it directly to the back of the girls line. Oh yes, there's one last thing about Emerald I think you should know. He wasn’t born a boy and no one in our society would ever accept that, not that they accept him for what they think he is now, impure.
Emerald stared for a long long time, making the Watcher more and more incandescent with rage. The class surrounding us were all future Watchers, born and bred to be the spitting image of a towering dragon which opposes Emerald now.
We were all lined up in the usual order, Row by row based upon our rank in class. Most schools -at least all the other ones within town- order their students by academic achievement. So I’ve heard, but not our school. They order us based upon our physical achievements. How good can you fight, how good can you fly, how good can you strategize and maintain order.
The first of the girls line, not to mention top of both lines, is Tenderous. She is nothing at all like her name, in fact the whole school thinks both her parents are dunces for agreeing on that. While top of the boys line is Valor (who is also, nothing at all like his name sake). Those two were chosen mates, a wick they call it, around the same time that I was given a wick one Enn ago.
Emerald however, was not only not given a wick, but would be placed in the very back of both lines, every single day, despite being second in combat. Not that he ever got any points from flight training; he always had a knack for disappearing right before each lesson. Regardless he deserves to be way ahead of me in this line and he deserves to be part of the boys line not the girls.
“If it was up to me,” the Watcher finally spoke, raising his upper lip in a vengeful snarl. “I’d have set you in with the frails.” His cold words bursted through the gaped seams adjacent to every tooth.
Any sensible Brilliant would turn their nose up and scowl at that, though rarely did anyone make a report of it. On most days it would be considered insufficient to control all hate speech that was thrown around this place, considering how much of it was used in our daily lives. Brilliants or a Brilliant was the proper name for frails yet, dragons especially Watchers insisted on using it despite its context.
At this point, all the students surrounding our general area were squished. The fence which lined this area on both sides ensured that no one would wander off at designated pick up times. Just another way they can control us. It seemed like everything they did was just to control us young dragons.
This area was usually opened during the mornings when Watcher dragonlings first arrived at the discretion of one parent, it felt less dingy and more sane then. She imagined that that was how other schools in town felt. Least she hoped that was how other schools felt.
For right now though, it was head to toe covered in dragonlings all scattered up and down the fence length. There was a couple meters or so in between the girls and boys line that an adult Watcher could glide through to keep them all in check. That was where this dragon stood, Commander of the Watching Army.
His scales were a deep red color. They almost looked like blood, especially if they were wet. He had curled horns that angled back almost like antlers and black eyes that pierced even the toughest of hides. His name, she ed, was almost too fitting, the perfect name for any Watcher.
“Ira!” a voice split the silence, shattering its tiny exoskeleton. The Watcher's spine nearly leaped out of his scales. Instantly she knew who the voice came from. It was her absolute dread every single day, for the past 3 months since the start of the Ceremony of Selection. Having to wait ever so patiently for her dear aunt Tyrannus, more commonly known as the Watching General.
The two lines of dragonlings stiffened, suddenly becoming more orderly than before. She knew the cause of course was that all those who cared; wanted to be scouted. Only 3 students from each class out of our school are chosen to attend the General’s Academy. A school, specifically made for young Watchers to grow and learn the ways to become future Watching Generals.
The Watching general was the highest and most respected position in power other than the queen herself. A war didn’t even need to be present in order for a Watching General to be in power, so of course Students desperately wanted to be selected in the Ceremony.
And every Enn the fourth class is picked through to find; the most acceptable, the most courageous, the most strategic, the most blah blah blah. The most nonsensical if you asked her. In reality it’s more like the one who has the best connections to the current general.
“Are you picking on my niece?” Tyrannus huffed, her snout was inches from the Watcher Ira’s face. She didn’t know what was worse, Tyrannus’ scowl or Ira’s bad breath. “Because if you are, then you know my penalties, not to mention it’s strategy training with the third wing for next week's battle and you’re supposed to be running it!”
“Tyrannus! Tyrannus… I was merely reminding little Placid here to follow order and stay on her side of the fences. She was peeking at the male's side, a little too long.” Ira’s demeanor shifted on a dime, he went from intense and hypocritical to respectful and complacent as quickly as dragonling would, when it realized it was in trouble.
I always hated that name… My name. For her it felt so very incorrect. Sure to the outside world Placid was the perfect name, that and miscreant, but besides her consequential jabs at the hierarchy of things, her demeanor was calm and collected; so much so some might even say mysterious.
But she didn’t like calm or mysterious being her main attributes. What she would give to be a little; tasteful, or knowledgeable, or adventurous, or maybe even exploratory. Unfortunately since the war, no one has been able to explore or adventure into the outside. And from what they tell us, we didn’t even do that before the war either.
The outside, was something no one at our school was allowed to talk about, except maybe the history teacher, who only showed up to our school only once every week. His lectures were always filled with so much detail about the outside world and explicit knowledge of traditions. Unfortunately the knowledge of what once was the outside was cut off from us, once we turned 4 Enns, of course.
After that, a dragonling twelve years old, might as well give up on any profession that did not directly aid her majesty. We were no longer allowed to hold onto those fantasies of what was real, instead you’re forced to learn to fight, to learn to strategize, to learn all the labor of war with no breaks, no breaths and most certainly no freedom. Not that I’ve ever experienced freedom before.
“Looking isn’t against any rule, last I checked, but wasting my time should be!” Tyrannus’ voice seemed to shake the fences, least it might as well have, since all neighboring dragonlings nearly fell over. Of all the names in all the universe; her name was the most accurate.
“You are all dismissed to exit the outer gate! Meet with your designated parent and go home!” She hissed half snarled, being prominent to the schedule that was set for every single sun up.
Tenderous’ line was instantly in motion. Of course she, of all dragons, wouldn’t hesitate to listen to an order with her head held high and her snout a bit higher. Valor unfortunately, was not at all as punctual, his line took an extra five seconds before it went in accordance with Tenderous’ line. He’s going to be yelled at later for that…
Placid watched as Emerald was yoinked away, being pushed and pulled into complacency by the movement of the line. Her ears flicked back in dismay, she rarely got to see Emerald anymore after they aged up to the 4th class a month or so ago. If she could she would run towards him and follow him all the way to the outer gate and past that even. Alas even she knew that her misbehavement could not venture that far.
If only I could tell you how I feel, Emerald… If only I could hold your talons in mine and the whole Watching Army could do nothing about it. If only…
“Come along dear,” Tyrannus tugged, stripping away any hope for the seams that held her and Emerald together.
“We have to prepare you for tomorrow's ceremony.”
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