An Example of My Writing
The rafters creak as the ship bends into submission of the waves. I hear the screaming of claws dragging down slick wood as young imperials are thrown to the sides of the boat. Silence. Heartbeats. Cannons echo in the distance as I steer us away from the shore and into the face of the congregation of enemy ships; my crew is angered that I even have the audacity to do so.
"What are you doing?" Peregrine growls into my face. She puts a claw to my neck as her face furrows. Eyes darkened, she speaks again. "Your job in this wasteland is to gather information, not to gather a body count."
"Nobody knows better than you that information and body counts often come together," I laugh bitterly. The ocean slaps the sides of the boat, the saltwater stinging my skin as it rises and floods onto the deck. Peregrine's mouth curls; she's all too joyful to watch me make a fatal error. Tatania's claws rake down Peregrine's already damaged right eye. Blood blooms at her eyebrow and begins to run, mixing with the sea foam beneath our feet.
"Stop baring your teeth at the commander and do something. The gods know that if Sun heard we swept you off deck, The Amber Vale would feel more blessed than mournful." Tatania can hardly finish her sentence before Peregrine has thrown a trident towards her, squarely missing. The trident pegs the waterlogged floorboards, Tatania's tail falling just out of its grasp.
"Now is not the time for in-fighting!" I screech. the ship is half underwater and those who cannot fly are likely to be lost. I have a duty to Sun. Although tempting, I will not sacrifice my legacy to put Peregrine in her place.
Cannons continue to fire and the sound of metal hitting the ocean combines with my desperate commands to the crew. Those who breathe fire attempt to catch enemy ships alight as the nightfall is broken by ignited boats. The Amber Vale has always been outnumbered in every way; we are the smallest and the weakest of the Mirrorlight Promenade. My job is to gather the information we need to survive each unending war. To find the weaknesses of the outside clans. Sometimes, unfortunately, that requires using them.
This is my last thought as water and fire mix into a quickly evaporating cocktail. The wave engulfs me and my crew as the ship bends under weight and pressure. I hear snapping wood but I know that we have stopped the attack from breaching the shore. Silence. Heartbeats. Sand.
Sun stands over me, her radiant and aged eyes staring me into submission before I even reach full consciousness. Sand sticks to every inch of my skin, and I see broken driftwood and half-breathing dragons littered across the shore.
"I'm sorry," I say quietly.
"Don't be," she says. Sun's voice sounds like hot molasses. I can't stand disappointing her. "You know that you'll always be my real second in command."
Peregrine, Sun's official right-hand dragon lies some 200 feet away. I summon a weak smile. Nobody knows that my real duty is not reconnaissance. I look unassuming, but always remember: In the eye of the hurricane lies quiet.
