Deleted Draft: Drelkensoul Story

This was started with the prompt, “As our story came to a close, I realized we were the villains all along.” Where I went became a bit of a mess. I created a species, the drelkensoul, for N’Zembe, but didn’t have a solid idea how the function. Not only that, but I didn’t have any sort of plan and my loose plot was a convoluted idea. This may get a rewrite/complete restart, but for now, here it is:

As our story came to a close, I realized that we were the villains all along. By then, though, it was too late. All was said and done, we had already faced our judgment, we were dead. I had always assumed that after death was nothing, but it seems I was wrong. Otherwise I would be unable to record our story. It is my hope that others will avoid our path to destruction, learn from our mistakes, be better than we were.

I don’t blame anyone who assumes this whole tale, including our deaths, is a hoax. But what does it matter? I lived it, so did they. I won’t try to convince anyone of the truth of my recollection by claiming to have been tasked to write my adventure by one of the gods. Yes, there is a multiplicity of deities. There are many, both benevolent and malevolent, in balance.

This is not a religious text, so I shall move on. Surely it is more important to know who we were and what we did that was so terrible. At least, terrible in retrospect. I never realized until after we had died that we had done anything wrong, inflicted pain upon so many. I didn’t know what we truly were until it was too late.

I had my suspicions that we were villainous, but never were they very great. Our people were not known for their kindness anyway, but rather our cruelty and ruthlessness. We were drelkensheath.

I’m not sure how old I was when I became aware of another entity within me. Yes, another entity. A literal separate being inhabiting my body.

We fought for quite some time over control of my being, the external portion of it, at least. Eventually, I was offered a compromise.

Share this vessel with me, and I will grant you unfathomable power–power that will free you from your dependence on the sea. I can still hear those words in my mind, even now that I’m dead.

Knowing the alternative was to continue fighting, as the spirit had made clear he was unwilling to leave, I readily agreed.

Peace brought a strange sense of cohabitation within my own body. I was no longer one person, but two in disguise, if this other creature was even to be considered a person. Are they even a creature? The gods are unwilling to entertain my questions, so I’ll likely never know.

When I rose upon the fertile land, I soon met others like me–drelkensheath who were now cohabiting their own bodies, vessels as the spirits called them. We decided to band together, the seven of us. Perhaps we’d survive better, figure ourselves out quicker, understand these new abilities.

“Hey, we need to leave! Everyone get up!” I yelled at the five still laying on their mats.

Adesola consistently woke up early enough for us to leave, but she had also been out of water the longest–she was the most at home on land.

Deleted Drafts: Once Was Garmasapon

I’m not sure how much of the original draft of this story I still have, I’ll have to search for it. This is just chapter one. I had at least three chapters.

It’s a rather strange story about the island country Garmasapon and a woman who has an Esther-like situation where she marries the king by arranged marriage. I don’t even know where the plot was going. There was supposed to be a conflict with Malaposie, a near-ish island country that hated Garmasapon. What I actually have, though, is just weird.

Once upon a time there was a far away land called Garmasapon. In Garmasapon there was always peace among the people, never violence. The people who founded the land had found the island by chance — it was completely secluded. As far as the townspeople knew they’d never been invaded by their enemy — the land of Malaposie.

But that’s just the beginning! This is a story about Garmasapon’s leader Garlasha who absolutely hated Malasha, the leader of Malaposie. First off I bet you’re wondering who I am? Well I’ll begin our story by telling you — Garmasha, wife of Garlasha. Now on to the story that I promised to tell you.

My husband was born into royalty — in fact he was a descendant of our founder Garmasapon. As a boy he wasn’t allowed to dirty his clothes, cause mischief, or interact with villagers and servants! He was full of hatred because of this rule, until he found that he would soon be king of all Garmasapon! When he found out he told the servants to go through all of Garmasapon and bring all virgins who are not married and are over eight years of age to the palace for him to decide whom he’d marry! The servants naturally obeyed.

I was (as you can guess) one of these girls. I tried to get them to let me stay, but they said it was the king’s command — so I consented. After pageants, beauty contests, and a filling out of many personality profiles, the last twenty girls were presented to the king. After he narrowed it down to ten, then five, he chose me as his bride. This to me was shocking because I was only thirteen! Still three years under the marriage quota!

He was sixteen and he ordered the wedding to be arranged at once! The cooks made cakes of all sizes, and invitations were sent out to all the nobility (and my relatives). The next week we had the wedding.

I was in a huge, white dress covered in gold adornments. He was in a matching suit and breaches. (I have to admit, he was stunning!) The wedding ceremony was simple: we both said our vows and pledged our hearts to each other. (I didn’t have much choice in this, but I was still excited about my wedding.)

After the ceremony had taken place, the festivities began. We cut the main cake and we (as was the custom) shared the first piece. Then everyone received their piece and we sang, danced, and enjoyed each other’s company. After what seemed like days we (Garlasha and I) went back to the Palace.

We had a four-poster bed and a giant room. The closet was very large as well, and amazingly it already had about fifty dresses! I asked him how the dresses got there.

“When you filled out the personality profile these dresses were made for you,” he replied simply.

“How did you know if they’d fit?” I asked.

“You had a dress fitting early on, like all the girls.”

“Oh yeah,” I said remembering.

“Yes, now if you’ll excuse me I have to go take my royal bath.”

“Is there another bathroom for me to bathe?”

“This one, you’re royalty now so you will bathe in the royal bathtub.”

“While you’re in there?” I asked shocked.

“No! After I’m done bathing.”

“Oh, good. You had me worried for a minute!”

“Well you had no reason to worry,” he said calmly.

So I waited for him to finish, but after a few minutes I got bored so I decided to try on a few of the dresses. The first one was an elegant, flowing, blue ball gown with pearl adornments! I tried it on at once (not knowing if I’d get in trouble for this). I waltzed around the room until I stopped in front of a full length mirror. I looked so elegant!

I hurried and tried on the next one. A blue, silky, flowing gown most likely for dining purposes. I rushed back to the mirror and looked at myself in the gown. Then I froze; I saw my new husband looking at me from the doorway to the bathing room. I slowly turned around, and saw him start to smile at me. I started to relax and smiled back.

He moved out of the doorway and gestured inside.

“I had the tub filled with fresh water for you,” he said.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. About the dresses –”

“Don’t worry about it, everything is fine,” he interrupted me.

With that I headed into the bathing room to take my bath. I undressed and eased myself into the hot water and bubbles. I had just fully encased my body, not including my head, in the hot water when three ladies came in through a door I hadn’t noticed. They were the royal bathing maids.

“What scent of soap would you like?” one of them asked me.

“Umm, do you have orange?” I asked mostly just wondering.

“Yes, we do,” another one told me.

“We’ll be right back with the soap,” the first maid told me.

They walked into what must have been a servant entryway to the bathing room. After about five minutes they returned with a large container of orange colored soap. They walked over to the tub and set the container on the side of it.

“Are you reader for this?” the third asked me.

“Honestly, no.”

“Would you rather wash yourself?” the first asked.

“Yes.”

“The king said this you’re to have that option.”

And with that she handed me the wash rag, opened to soap and left.

I washed quickly, stepped out, and then noticed they had not brought me a towel! Then someone peeked their head in and brought a towel.

“Thank you.”

They nodded their head in response, then left. I dried quickly then went to ask my husband (wrapped in the towel) where to find my night clothes.

“In your closet, at the very back,” he told me.

I walked to the back of the closet and pulled out a thin blue dress and undergarments. I went back in the bathing room and donned my night clothes. I put my towel on the rack and went back out into the bedroom.

He was sitting in the bed, waiting for me so he could turn out the lamp. I climbed in on the other side, and made an effort to be as close to the edge as possible without falling out. Then I heard his voice piercing the darkness.

“I understand your discomfort to this whole situation. I know that I’d be uncomfortable if a strange woman requested that I marry her,” he said barely above a whisper.

“Yes, I am uncomfortable, but I think it may be for the better of the people.”

“It is for the people. In a way… I didn’t want my father arranging my marriage to a girl I didn’t want to marry, so you know what I did from there.”

Somehow I felt comfortable talking to him, I think because he talked to me first.

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” I whisper so softly I didn’t think he heard.

Then he answered, “I’m sorry you didn’t have a say in this situation, but it was a bit urgent as my father was very sick. If I didn’t marry before his death I’d marry the girl he had hand chosen.”

“Have you met her?”

“Yes, only once, but she was as snooty as they come. That’s part of why I wanted someone who wasn’t as rich.”

“Thank you,” I said realizing this was meant as a compliment.

With that said we both fell asleep quickly.

Deleted Drafts “The Etaloniy Story” 3

Five years ago I began writing a story about a girl named Etaloniy Whitlock. The result was quite the disaster of a story. Because it is rather long, I have split what I have of her story into three parts. Part one went up two weeks ago and part two went up last Wednesday.

5: MOM TO THE “RESCUE”!

After assessing the situation, she walked right up to the police officer pinning Clamal to the building. I stand there in complete shock, with my mouth open as I watch her. I force myself to move closer so I can hear her.

“…So you can’t let me take custody over her unless her mother doesn’t show up within twelve hours?”

“Lady, I told you — as soon as her mother shows up, you can transfer responsibility for the offense over to yourself.”

“What happens if any other family members come and admit the family relation?”

What was she trying to do?! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Mom! Mom, can we go to the mall?” I hurry over before she can ask any more questions.

“No, we can’t. If you like you can find an outfit in one of the shops here in the square.”

“Please! Please! I told you — they don’t have the new shirt that I want!” I have to get her away from this police officer!

“FIne, you can go to the mall, but you have to pay with your own money.”

As I walk away I say some things in a language my teacher at school said is called English.

~~~~~

I go home after spending fifteen minutes at the mall, not actually having wanted to go when I remember my cake!

I don’t expect to find the piece I had first cut for myself — Bran probably ate that one. I’ll cut a new piece, eat it, and go back to the square to make sure Mom didn’t get arrested.

~~~~~

After rushing to the square, I look over and see Mom — chained on the police rack next to Preana! I facepalm myself, but resist the urge to go over to her, not wanting to get arrested myself.

6: JAILBREAK!

I call our home with my cell and quickly fill in Bran on what’s happened. I say it in a language I made up several years ago that only my siblings and I know. He knew my message was important as soon as I started using it.

He promised to hurry over to help me get them away from the police.

~~~~~

They showed up thirty minutes (thirty minutes!!) later and asked me in Fintalarkan if I had a plan.

I said I did, but wasn’t sure if it’d work.

“What’s it?”

“Well…”

“Out with it!”

“We get arrested and then pick the locks to escape. Or we can go home, get the rubies that belong to use cause they’re on our property, and after selling them, pay the fees to get Preana, Mom, and Clamal released from jail tomorrow.”

“…Tomorrow! Why not today!” Bran asked.

“Cause on a case like this, meaning one involving Rubies, they’re tried, or taken to court, before put in jail. We have to wait till tomorrow after they’ve had their appearance in court.”

“Oh… Why does it work that way?” Bran hadn’t been to school long enough to figure that out on his own, it seems, even in third grade.

“Because of Wheenman… The monster hates when his precious rubies are tampered with…”

“Oh… I guess let’s go home, then…”

We go home quickly and when we get there revert back to the native language of M’lenkaa, Lenkaan.

When we get there after a long walk, we’re not quite sure what to do… It’s almost dinner time and only Clamal and Mom know how to actually cook… Then I think about the frozen meals that only require being put in the oven at around 350 degrees or 400 degrees.

“I got it! Frozen pizza!”

Deleted Drafts “The Etaloniy Story” (2)

Five years ago I began writing a story about a girl named Etaloniy Whitlock. The result was quite the disaster of a story. Because it is rather long, I have split what I have of her story into three parts. Part one went up last Wednesday and part three will go up next Wednesday.

3: SCHOOL

We rushed inside and went to class. It was about the usual junk about our heritage, the Ruby Rains, and how beneficial Shanry E. Wheenman was to our country. (Shanry E. Wheenman was the monster of a man.)

After three hours we had lunch with extra dessert for everybody. (Including the people who brought their lunches.) If only the next day was a real holiday, then we’d actually enjoy the dessert, more anyway.

We went back to class and listened to the teachers drone on and on. Finally school was over, and I rushed to the bus before anyone could say Etaloniy Whitlock. I hurried (as usual) to the very back of the bus. My friends and I always choose the back so we can sit close to each other, and as I’m always the first person on the bus I save our seats.

My friends show up right before the bus is to leave! They burst onto the bus and run to the very back with me. Ameria knows they’re in for it, really bad this time. Ameria is the “leader” of our friend group, she’s not in charge she just helps us settle disputes in an orderly fashion. (Not that we have many disputes.)

“Hey, where were you guys?” I ask.

“We were… uuh it’s a secret,” said Emalagy after seeing Ameria shake her head.

“Why won’t you tell me?! You are always keeping secrets from me!” I almost shout before I can stop myself.

“It… It’s a surprise,” replies Nadolina softly.

“Nadolina! You weren’t supposed to tell her!” says Ameria angrily.

After that no one said anything the rest of the way home. I was glad to ride in silence until the doors opened to my neighborhood. Bran, Maglina, and I jumped out and ran home, eager to see Preana and Clamal.

4: PREANA’S PROBLEM

We arrive home and rush into the kitchen.

“Mom can we have a snack?” asks Bran eagerly. (He’s always hungry so Mom has to pack him an extra large lunch for school.)

“Yes. I made a cake for your snack today.”

“Where is it?” asks Bran checking all the places he thought the cake would be in.

“In the freezer, Bran,” says Mom as she walks out of the kitchen.

Bran pulls out the cake and goes after the knife rack, when I reach out and stop him.

“Bran, you know you’re not allowed to use the cake knife. Let me cut the cake,” I say.

He reluctantly steps back towards the cake knowing that I’m right. He’s four years younger than me, but acts like he thinks he’s four years older than me.

I grab the knife carefully; then head back to Bran. I ask him to get plates as I carefully cut the cake into twelve even pieces.

“I get the first piece!” says Maglina before Bran can, because he always gets the first piece.

“Bran, go see if Clamal and Preana would like some cake.”

“Fine,” he sighed.

He rushed upstairs and knocked on their doors. Then I heard his feet pounding as he came back, panting.

“They’re… They’re… they’re not there.”

“Of course they’re there. It’s been about thirty minutes since school got out.”

“No they’re not there.”

“How can they not be there? By now they are here!”

“Go check for yourself then!” he snapped at me.

I ran upstairs and tried opening Clamal’s door — only to find it locked. I knocked loudly to no avail. I decided to ask Mom for help.

Mom!” I yelled across the house.

“Yes, Etaloniy?” she said coming over to me.

“Clamals’s door is locked,” I said jiggling the handle for emphasis.

“She must want to be alone, sweetheart.”

“Well it’s urgent.”

“Fine, I’ll get the key for you. Meanwhile go tell Preana to come downstairs.”

I walk down the hall and try to turn the door knob. Also locked. “Drats,” I say under my breath. “Preana open up! Mom wants you downstairs!” I shout quickly and loudly.

“You don’t need to yell! I’m right here!” she told me appearing at the top of the stairs.

“Sorry,” I said blushing.

“I brought the key,” she told me, calming down.

I take it and unlock Clamal’s door. I open it slowly and dramatically for emphasis. I look in and find it empty.

“Mom can you get the key to Preana’s room?”

“It should be in Clamal’s room. Although I don’t want you snooping in her things.”

“Mom! I’m worried about Preana and Clamal!”

“Fine. Get the key. And hurry about it,” she gave an exasperated sigh.

I went in saw her key ring on her dresser, and grabbed it and left.

“Found it,” I say as I go unlock Preana’s door. I open it quickly, then walk into her maze of a room.

“Preana! Preana are you in here?” I shout into the messy void.

I wait, still making my way inside, but hear no response. I head back out and close and relock her door.

“Mom, I’m going to town!”

“Wait a second!” she calls after me as I round the corner at the end of the street.

I must find Preana! And Clamal, but right now Preana is my priority.

I rushed to town square covering my head with my hands because it’s raining rubies a day early!

“Oh, Preana! What did you get yourself into this time?” I wail.

I soon reach the town square with bleeding hands (a lot of rubies hit me). I quickly scan the area, and spot Preana chained to a police rack!

(The police rack is like a bicycle rack that police officers chain prisoners to while the officers is arresting someone else.)

“Preana! What happened?” I ask in a stupor. She looks at me with a pained look in her eyes. Her eyes quickly widen and she shakes her head fiercely.

“Preana I can’t leave you!” I tell her, “By the way where’s Clamal?”

Preana nodded her head over to where the police had a teenage girl pinned agains the side of a nearby building.

I gasped loudly, “What happened?!”

“Miss I’ll have to ask you to leave the crime scene,” I gruff police officer told me.

“Can you tell me what happened first?”

“This girl here was inspecting some rubies that belong to Shanry E. Wheenman and smashing them on the ground to obtain the valuable middle section of the ruby.”

“What about the other girl?” I ask pointing to Clamal.

“She said that she was this young ruby thief’s sister and asked if we’d let her go if she returned the rubies. Obviously we couldn’t do that. Right now officers are trying to find the rest of the girl’s family to put them under house arrest.”

“Thank you for telling me. Is there any way I can help you find them?”

“Do you know the family?”

“Couldn’t say. She looks too young to go to school with me as I’m only thirteen.”

“Well then you be on your way then, but if you see any of her family members let us know,” he told me as I walked away.

I pull out my cell phone and call Mom. “Mom, come to the square quickly. Preana and Clamal have been arrested.”

“They what!” she shouted in my ear.

“Ow! They got arrested,” I said enunciating carefully.

“Oh no! That’s terrible! I’m coming to give those police officers a talk.”

“Mom you can’t they’ll arrest you, too!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I talked to a police officer acting like I didn’t know Preana and Clamal. They only arrested Clamal because she said that she was Preana’s sister.”

“I’m still getting Preana back! If it takes getting arrested, then fine. They can arrest me if they’ll let Preana go!” Mom tells me and I know that I can’t stop her from trying to do just that. I’m about to respond when I hear the phone click on the other end, telling me she hung up.

Nooo!! She can’t come to the square! She’ll get arrested, and I can’t let that happen. I scream in my head knowing I’d get arrested for screaming it out loud.

Then Mom showed up in the square yelling at a police officer in another language.

“Mom! Mom, thank goodness I’ve found you!” I shouted in Nargatolan recognizing it instantly.

“This is your daughter?” the police man asked it sketchy Nargatolan.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for your help,” he seemed to understand even if he didn’t speak Nargatolan.

“Where are Preana and Clamal?” Mom asked, switching to another language that was less common in our area.

“Over there,” I responded in the same language and tip my head in their direction.

Mom’s response is almost immediate, and I have to grab her arm to keep her from rushing over to save the day.

“Mom, if you tell them who you are they’ll arrest you.”

“Etaloniy, you should know me better than that. I am not going to go over there and get myself arrested.”

“Then what are you going to do?” I ask, feeling relief.

Deleted Drafts “The Etaloniy Story”

Five years ago I began writing a story about a girl named Etaloniy Whitlock. The result was quite the disaster of a story. Because it is rather long, I have split what I have of her story into three parts.

1: CHANGES

I don’t know how to tell you this. I don’t think I can tell you this! My life is changing rapidly and I can’t do anything about it! Okay, okay, I’ll slow down and explain everything.

My name is Etaloniy Whitlock. I have one brother and three sisters. I also have two dogs (and a cat named Meecklow). My mom and dad are both in their thirties. Oh yeah, and I’m turning thirteen next month. In the dreaded month of the Ruby Rains!

So now I’ll explain how it all started….

Five years ago today I was soon to turn eight when my parents got divorced. I couldn’t handle the news, so, I went to my friend’s house and told my parents I wasn’t coming back. Two weeks into the arrangement I went crying back home — homesick. My mother welcomed me back joyfully. I wanted to see Dad, but Mom said he was on a business trip for about two and a half years.

Mom said Dad would be back in two and a half years, but we haven’t heard from him since. I’m starting to think he’s never coming back.

As if that’s not bad enough, that’s only the start of my troubles! I also have “friends” who are trying to make me sell my brother!!!! They told me that he was the cause of my troubles, so I should dispose of him as quickly as possible. I didn’t believe them of course, but I didn’t tell them that.

Meecklow is another story, but I might as well tell you of his wonders as a cat. Oddly enough he chases the dogs, and they are scared when he walks in the room with them. Meecklow doesn’t like my friends and after a fight with him they’re scared of him. So all-in-all he’s one exceptional cat.

Now for what happens daily to me….

2: DAILY

Ahh, breakfast my favorite part of every day. The reason is simple — the food is delicious (and it’s much quieter in the morning when everyone’s busy eating).

“Good morning sweetheart,” Mom says when I reach the kitchen.

“Good morning Mom.”

“Hey Bran,” I tell my brother.

“Hey.”

“Is Clamal up yet?” I ask Mom.

“Yes, she left for school already.”

“Did she take Preana to school?”

“Yes, sorry you missed them again. You just don’t get up early enough,” Mom told me.

“Well I’m not the only one,” I say as Maglina walks into the kitchen sleepily.

After the morning “glad you’re up” routine with her we all fall silent and concentrate on the food. This morning Mom made cinnamon toast rolls. Cinnamon toast rolls! Those are only for special occasions!

“Mom, what’s today?” I ask urgently.

“The day before the Ruby Rains,” she replies calmly.

“No! No! It can’t be!” I shout at no one in particular.

“Yes honey, just check the calendar,” she said back still calmly.

I get up and do just that. It’s true. Tomorrow the terror will begin as every year. My face pales and I go back to the table.

“The Ruby Rains. Why? Why!?” I shout.

The Ruby Rains are when it rains glistening rubies. That makes it dangerous, but it’s also a time of grieving for the people. This is because during this month a monster of a man took over the country. He’d parade through the streets in clothing decorated with rubies, mocking our pain. It was mockery because during the Ruby Rains over five hundred people die every week!

“Honey nobody knows why. It just is.”

I almost cry, but I can’t, not in front of my mom and Bran and Maglina. Instead I excused myself and went and got ready for school.

I dressed in my school uniform — a simple blue shirt and tan pants — then I don my socks and tennis shoes. I hurried, checked the clock, and rushed out the door. As soon as I was out the door I ran and waited for the bus.

I waited and waited and then it came! I was shocked to see the painted rubies glaring at me from the side of the bus. (This is normal, it happens every year the day before the Ruby Rains.) At the “monster of a man’s” orders the Ruby Rains are celebrated as a holiday, the only non-holiday-ness of this arrangement is that the children still have to go to school.

I jumped onto the bus as soon as the doors opened and went all the way to the back. I then waited for Bran and maglina to show up. They did knowing exactly why I left in a flurry. (They knew this because it happened every year the day before the Ruby Rains.)

The bus hurried to school so we wouldn’t be late. We arrived in about ten minutes with a busload of kids.