HOW IT WORKS
This is a group storytelling challenge. It began with the four of us (Cedar, then Emily H., then Emily M., then Elisa), and now it ends with YOU! Our story has reached its climax but now we need an ending. So here’s the rundown:
- You have a 20 minute time limit, period. Set a timer and when it beeps, you’re done! (We trust you.)
- Submit to elisa@readysetprose.com (you can write in the body of the email, or attach a Google doc)
- Submission deadline is 11:59 p.m. PST next Monday (October 9, 2017)
- Anyone who participates will be entered to win a $20 gift card to Amazon! To purchase something that encourages your writer-y skills!
We love doing these weekly challenges because of the fun way it stretches us all as writers, and we’re hoping you feel the same way about this contest. So write away, friends!
The sun would be popping up like a jack-in-the box, for those lucky souls who lived on top of the mountain, that is. But for Jesse, down in the valley, there was only a lightening patch of sky. It was more than enough light for Jesse to see by, though, his eyes were well accustomed to darkness from his first few months of working down in the coal mine with his father and grandfather. At 10 years old he was considered a man and had to leave school to help the family.
Jesse quietly snuck out the window of his little cabin, which wasn’t hard to do, because there was no glass in it, only a curtain. As Jesse let himself down silently to the ground, the chilly November air slapped him fully awake. He stood still, listening for any noise from the house.
It was Sunday, the only day Jesse wasn’t expected to head to the mines before daybreak. But Jesse had made a discovery down there that was much more important than sleep.
As he passed the last house in the village, Jesse saw the old man staring at him out the window. He shuddered and raced on with his head down. The old man was crazy, some said. He had a deformity that made it impossible for him to work in the coal mine. So he never left his house, but sat in the window and watched everyone out it every day….
Cedar
Jesse was sure he heard the old man give a low chuckle as he passed. It was a sinister sound, like the shadows, and the cold, and the gray loneliness surrounding Jesse. The hair stood up on his neck. But when he glanced over his shoulder at the window, he couldn’t see the old man anymore.
Jesse hustled down the road. He didn’t run because there wasn’t enough light to see loose stones. He kept hearing the old man’s chuckle in his head. It started out low, the way he’d heard it when he passed under the window; but in his mind it grew, ending in an evil cackle. He imagined the old man limping along the path after him, laughing. He tried to not think of him. But he couldn’t help it.
He knew when he’d reached the path leading to the wizard’s house because of a gnarly tree that marked the turn. He’d have gone right past if he hadn’t known what to look for. He was in a deep part of the valley now, and patches of fog hung close to the ground. Jesse picked his way carefully, stepping over fallen logs, and pushing aside tentacles of Spanish moss that dangled from Oak branches.
Jesse had never been to the wizard’s house at this time of day. It looked different, lifeless. No friendly smoke rose from the chimney. The curtains were drawn. The wizard’s pots and pans that he used to make potions were piled in a heap next to the house. The little stable, and the animal cages lined up alongside it, were quiet.
Jesse pounded on the door and waited. The fog slid silently over the ground. Jesse leaned his ear against the door. He heard the wizard snoring. He smiled.
Jesse pounded on the door again, repeatedly. Finally he heard noises inside, a murmuring, a muttering, a scuffling. Then the door opened.
The wizard was young, for a wizard. He had red curly hair, a red curly beard, freckles, and green eyes that were usually bright, with knowledge and interest and amusement, but which now squinted at Jesse sleepily. He had on a robe and a long sleeping cap, and he was holding a lit candle in his hand.
“Jesse? What’s the matter?” he asked.
“I found something in the mine last night,” Jesse breathed.
The wizard’s eyelids popped open. “In! In!” he cried, waving Jesse inside.
It was so dark in the house that Jesse blinked, unseeing, until the wizard whisked in front of him with the candle. “Sit there,” he ordered, pointing to a stool next to the fireplace.
Jesse waited while the wizard hastily built a fire. The wizard always, always tried to start fires by the usual, unmagical method. Sometimes he succeeded. This time, he cursed impatiently at the logs after two wasted matches, and pulled out his wand. A single flick, and the fire roared.
The wizard sat on a second stool and gave Jesse an eager look. “You found a skeleton?” Even indoors, he spoke almost in a whisper.
“No,” Jesse said. “I found a dragon.”
The wizard looked confused.
“Not a skeleton. A live dragon.”…
Emily H.
Asthore, (whose real name was Gary, but didn’t think that Gary was a fitting name for a wizard), sat back in his chair, lips curled up in a suspicious smirk. For a moment, he didn’t say anything – just stared at Jesse. Then with a deep breath in, one of his red eyebrows reached up so high, it nearly disappeared behind his nightcap. He exhaled slowly, then leaning in close to Jesse squinting his eyes, he said,
“A dragon?”
“Yes!” Jesse shrieked. “A real live dragon!”
Asthore rocked back in his chair and slapped his thick belly with his bear-paw hands and laughed heartily.
Jesse’s eyebrows sunk in towards each other. He felt warm with – he wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or confusion. Maybe both.
Between laughs, Asthore wiped his eyes and coughed, “A dragon! Ha! That’s pretty good, boy!”
Jesse, now surely offended, stood up. Gripping the arm of the chair he shouted, “I’m being serious, Asthore! I really saw one!”
Asthore, seeing that he had hurt his friend, did his best to compose himself, but said between snickers. “Jesse, how are you the only one who’s seen this dragon? How come I’ve never heard of it before? And how my friend, are you still alive after an encounter with a dragon?”
Jesse combed his hair to the side and slumped back down in his chair. “Buh-CAUSE, As-THORE,” he emphasized, hoping somehow Asthore would feel mocked in return. “I found a secret path that no one’s gone down before. You have to crawl – well, not you – YOU couldn’t fit,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I crawled underneath a boulder. After I got under it, pulled myself up and there was this…this, “ his smugness vanished and he began to light up. “This..ROOM. In the room there were two hallways. I didn’t have enough time to explore both, so I just decided on one. I walked only a little ways and it lead to another room.” Jesse stood up again and began to pace. “There it was! This, this dragon! But, Asthore, I wasn’t afraid at all. It was lying down, curled up; almost like a kitten. Only it was scrawny. It’s eyes were closed, but when it heard me come in, it’s eyelids cracked open. Asthore, we looked at each other. But, not like, just made eye contact. We like, really saw each other. Then it was the craziest thing.” Here Jesse paused and looked gravely as the wizard, now entranced with the story. “I heard it talk. It didn’t open its mouth, but I heard its voice.”
There was another pause and Asthore blurted, “Well, what did it say?!”
“It said, ‘help.’”…
Emily M.
The wizard formerly known as Gary let out a long, low whistle. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Jesse stared blankly at him. “It means,” continued Asthore, “that you are obligated to help it. There is a magical contract that exists between a dragon and anyone with whom it telepathically communicates.”
Jesse rolled his eyes and stood up again. “If you don’t believe me, FINE, but please don’t make fun of me.” And he started towards the door.
“Wait, wait!!” cried Asthore. “But I DO believe you! And I want to help! Just, just, give me a moment.” And he began patting his robes and looking around himself absentmindedly. “Where did I put that…wand…” he muttered, his eyes darting around.
“Asthore,” said Jesse, and the wizard glanced up at him. Jesse tapped his own temple, and Asthore reached up and felt his wand tucked safely behind his ear. He chuckled sheepishly.
“Well,” he shrugged and smiled. “What are we waiting for?”
It didn’t take them long to arrive at the coal mine, and between the swiftness with which experience had taught Jesse to move and the cheerfully glowing light that Asthore’s wand provided, the odd pair of friends navigated their way easily enough to the boulder that concealed the secret path. Once there, Asthore placed his arm protectively in front of Jesse to prevent him from diving forward and shimmying underneath, then he pointed his wand at the boulder and in a loud, clear voice, announced “Whammy Blammy” and with a complicated flick of his wand, the boulder exploded, revealing the darkened room beyond.
Jesse began to move forward into the darkness, and Asthore followed close behind, reigniting the warm light at the tip of his wand. They crossed the entry room and proceeded down the path that Jesse had taken the first time. They could hear the sound of the dragon breathing as they approached, but it had an odd, mournful sound to it, and both of them had the distinct impression that the dragon was crying. As they came into view of it, Jesse heard the voice again.
“Have you come to help me?” came the dragon’s question. Jesse glanced at Asthore, whose expression made it clear he had not heard the voice. He seemed completely absorbed in studying the dragon, who was, indeed, terribly scrawny.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Dragon, but are you able to speak aloud? My friend here cannot hear you as I can, and he would so like to help.” Jesse tried to speak as politely as possible, for he was still feeling nervous in the presence of such a creature. The dragon sighed.
“Yes,” he said aloud in a dry, papery voice. “But it is very hard.” He was silent for a moment, then continued. “I have been trapped down here for many a long year, you see, and I do so long to escape.”
“Trapped?! Trapped by whom?” cried Jesse indignantly. His indignation stemmed from a generally kind and gentle spirit that balked at the idea of any creature being mistreated, but he was wholly ignorant of the nature of dragons, and might have been slightly less susceptible to this tale of woe had that not been the case. But the dragon continued.
“A man by the name of Bertrand trapped me here,” said he. “But you probably know him as the old man. He walks with a limp, and I am the cause. I attacked him when he placed me here, and though he got away, his leg carries the reminder of his mistreatment of me.” And a single, giant teardrop fell from his yellow eye.
“The old man,” said Jesse angrily under his breath.
“But quick!” said the dragon, his papery voice gaining a little strength. “All I require is a human guide to break the spell that keeps me here! The second passageway you saw, it leads out. It’s as simple as that! Magic has prevented me from taking the path myself, but now that you’re here, I can leave and be free again! Oh, dear friends, will you not help me?
Asthore had been silent through all of this, and as Jesse turned eagerly to consult him, he was alarmed to see a decided look of suspicion on the wizard’s face. “I’ve never been one to trust a dragon,” he said hesitatingly.
“Oh Asthore, look at him! How could you question him?” asked Jesse reproachfully as another giant tear splashed down the creature’s face…
Elisa
[to be continued…by YOU]
For the original challenge, Cedar had to include the words discovery, deformity, and coal in her portion!
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