The Mouse Slave

A strong wind howled through the wavering stalks of corn, rain poured down from the sky as if the gods themselves were crying. The lights inside the old farmhouse were flickering. The small colony huddled inside their homes, wind battering the buildings. While the citizens in the colony of white mice struggled against the weather, the evil king eat the sweet food in his temple. Not even a stray thought could care to think about the poor mouse citizens. But all the bad weather, starvation and poverty had not been there forever.

In the past the mice colony had prospered, they collected food from the plants on the field, and water from the farmhouse. But just three years ago, the colony had elected a new king, but he was greedy and evil. Now there were slaves, class and unfairness. Mice are starving. The king and his royalty are as happy and rich as ever. The population of mice were suffering.

Back in 1971, when the colony was just being made, the leaders of the mice had come across an interesting problem. All white mice look the same, how could they tell the king, baker or farmer apart? The mice decided, after much thought, that the way the mice should tell each other apart is by their voices. Also, the head advisor announced, “all the mice will have tattoos put on them, to aid in telling us apart”. The one mouse who did not get a tattoo was the king, he was the last to get a tattoo, and the tattoo mice had run out of ink. At first the symbols just showed what your work was, but, three years ago when the evil king was elected, the symbols became a thing to show your class in society, your importance. Of course, if you worked hard enough, you could get your tattoo marking changed, as your work became more important. But, it was unlikely a slave could ever get a more important job.

After last night’s downpour, Cameron new the site would be in shambles, the building stands and workbenches a mess. But he had not thought that the temple would have been ruined. Cameron was a slave. He new the site managers would give them extra wips today, to vent their frustration out. 5 hours later, the construction site Cameron worked on, which was constructing the new temple for the king, was back to clean perfection. But the temple was dirty, the slaves were going to use bleach, stolen from the farmhouse to clean the temple. Cameron Knew, If the temple was dirty when the king arrived to oversee the progress, the site managers would be thrown to the farmhouse cat. As Cameron cleaned the temple of mud, he could not help but think about how the other slaves bullied him. Every mice hated the king, accept the rich and powerful. Poor Cameron is Identical in every way, even though white mice almost always look the same, to the king, except for his voice and tattoo. This made the other mice say mean things about Cameron, like

“We won’t play with you, you ugly king!”.

Because, the mice slaves were still young and did not understand that cameron was just like them. Cameron lost focus as he thought of this, and slipped! Right into a can full of bleach. Cameron’s eyes and throat were on fire, coughing and spluttering he hauled himself up out of the can and ran crying to a puddled just off the construction site. After cleaning the bleach out of his eyes, which, lucky little bleach had managed to touch. Cameron silently, for his throat still burned, made sure that the rest of his body was okay. He checked his feet, ears, back, but As he looked were his tattoo should have been, with horror he saw it had disappeared.

Cameron was hiding in the hollow of an old stick. Unlike some would think, pretending to be the king would not be good. He knew he would get treated amazingly, have plenty of food and water, and get endless rest, unless the king himself saw Cameron. But rumour had it, that the king would be murdered at any time. I need a way to get another tattoo, Cameron thought to himself. Cameron thought about what he could possibly do to get another tattoo before some murder found him and decided to kill the helpless king. Suddenly he realized, why not use this once in a lifetime opportunity, to send the king into a trap. Not kill him, but to make him feel like a slave. That way maybe the king could understand his colonies people better.

A slow breeze lightly ruffled the fur on Camerons neck, he needed information before he could execute his plan. What better place to get information than the great palace library. Cameron thought it would be easy enough to infiltrate the palace, he looked, talked and almost believed he was the king while he looked into a mirror. So, without further hesitation, he strolled up to the gates, where to guards were waiting, and put on his cruelest face. The two guards looked him up and down, then opened the gates. He was in.

Three books, 277 pages and 25 words later, Cameron had a better idea of what he should do. His plan went like this, Cameron would sneak into the king’s bedroom at night, really he would not be sneaking, simply strolling past the guards that guarded the bedroom. After using a club, to help keep the king quite, Cameron would need to use the paint from the newborns marking ceremony to put a black slave tattoo on the king. This is what most of the books Cameron had read were on, for painting the tattoo’s were a very difficult art. Then in the morning, Cameron, after the kings tattoo had dried, would go out to the guards and scream,

“Why is there is a slave in my bedroom.”

And the guards would come in and take away the king, who they now thought was a slave, and toss him into the slave camp. Cameron was roused from his thoughts, when, suddenly a voice rang out behind him,

“Well, well, well.”

It was the main advisor of the king.

“Do we have an imposter?”

Cameron sputtered back “wh, why would you think that?”

“I was walking with the king.” he looked up at a clock on the wall. “20 seconds ago, and you seem to nervous.”

Cameron new he was done, surely the advisor would run and get the guards. Then, to Camerons surprise, the advisor said “tell me your story, and, maybe I can help you, I despise the king.”

Tonight was the night, Cameron was ready to execute his trap. Thanks to Mr.terrison, the king’s advisor, his trap would be much easier. Mr.Terrison had given him a cloth with a type of sleep drug on it, this way Cameron would not make noise with the bat knocking out the king. It turns out the king was going to have Mr.terrison thrown to the farm cat, next week. The only reason mr.terrison had not run away was because the king had him closely guarded, and if he ran away they would catch and aurely torture him. Even Cameron was surprised that the king would be cruel enough to torture someone! So, because of this, Mr.terrison was helping Cameron as long as Cameron promised to protect him after the king was thrown to the slave camps..

Cameron approached the guards at the kings doorway. He was about hundred steps away from the doorway, when, the king strolled out! He was obviously drunk and sleepy. Cameron quickly put his head down and stepped into an alcove the into the wall. Camerons heart thundered as he heard the king’s footsteps approach, the king slowly walked past the very alcove Cameron was huddled in. cameron gasped! Then froze, knowing, as the kings head turned toward him, that he would be caught. The king’s eyes widened as he saw an exact replica of himself, but then, suddenly, the king burst out laughing.

“I am more drunk than usual!” he bellowed.

Then turned and kept walking down the hall and into the laboratory. Camerons fear died into adrenalin. he quickly ran down the hall and up to the guards, they seemed not to even notice as he past through the large oak doors and into the king’s bedroom. There, Cameron waited.

A bead of sweat rolled down Cameron’s face. It had been ten minutes and the king had just returned. As he plopped onto the nice hay bed he slept on. Cameron waited ten minutes more, for the king to fall asleep then he took action. He threw the rag onto the kings peaceful face, then took out the small can and paint Mr.terrison had given him, and got to work. After he was done his tattooing, all Cameron had to do was wait.

Dawn was just breaking through the large room in the king’s bedroom. Cameron had not slept a wink. Now he would finish his plan. Cameron put on his mad face and threw open the bedroom door, he roared

“Guards! Why is there a slave in my bedroom.” the guards rushed in and hauled the still sleepy king, who now looked like a slave, out of the bedroom and asked ameron what he wanted to do with the slave, Cameron roared back

“You imbeciles, Send him back to the slave camps!”

his plan had worked.

Several weeks had passed, Cameron and Mr.terrison had worked hard to fix the kingdom of its poverty, homeless shelters had been constructed, along with many other things. Cameron was now so glad Mr.terrison was there to help him, he had not thought about what he would do after the king was thrown into the slave camps. Mr.terrison had taught Cameron how to greet mice in a kingly way and had helped Cameron seem like he knew what he was doing, and not some impostor. But now, today, on december 31, 1989. Cameron was going to announce, after pretending to be king, he was not actually king, to the kingdom. A cool breeze blew through Cameron’s hair. He stood on stage, in the open, he had no fear of being murdered now. Cameron said these very words. “ I am not your king.” then he told them the whole story. the kingdom erupted with surprise. But then, the surprise turned to joy. The entire colony of mice cheered “Cameron! Cameron!”  

That day the evil king was hauled out of the slave camp, he had a crazed look in his eyes. As Cameron watched he wondered if being in the camp had driven the king mad. After throwing the evil king out of the city. Cameron tried instead of a new election being held, the elder came forward and gave Cameron the crown. Cameron was now the king of the colony.

The First Dragon

Nagini knew that he had made a grave mistake, for the item he was looking for was not in the box where he had believed it to be. Once again he had risked his life and freedom, because he surely would be executed if he was caught, to no gain what so ever. As he trudged out of the building he had just tried to rob, Nagini could not help but thinking about his long lost sister, stolen from his family late at night.

Nari Heard the loud crash as the wagon outside hit a stone on the cobbled road, dawn was just breaking and she had recently woke up. The sun was cracking above the horizon and the few birds that lived in her town had begun to sing. Suddenly, she heard the sound of men shouting and the drawing of steel blades as they scraped against their sheaths, then, after several seconds the scream of one man. As the thieves took the valuables from the wagon that they had stopped, Nari saw they had missed a small box. In it, there were two things, a crystal skull so clear you could see right through it. “This must be valuable” Nari. There was also a large egg of sorts, it was shaped in an ovale and had an odd pattern on the side. As Nari inspected the items she had found, out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw something slipped under the red liner in the box, a little piece of paper. She went to pull it out but it was stuck. Nari dashed into her small kitchen where she opened the cutlery drawer. All her spoons and knifes were laid out in neat piles along with her forks, she snatched a knife and ran back to the hallway where the box still lay open on the floor. “There’s nothing there” she thought to herself. But, as she sliced through the red velvet inside the box, her knife making a screeching noise, a small note fell out. On it, this is what said.

So that’s what the egg was! It was a dragon egg? No, Nari told herself, thats rubbish… But, if it wasn’t a Dragon egg. What was it? Nari did not understand how the crystal skull falling would harm or do anything. She glanced back down at the small note and something grasped her, she felt her insides turn, her skin itch and her eyes burn, it was like magic. In that small moment, just a few seconds, Nari knew she must return the egg to durus. After that, she understood something must be done with the crystal skull. What was to be done though was out of her comprehension.   

Nari picked up the the egg and put it back in its box, she read the note one more time to be sure she had not miss read. “Durus” she murmured, that’s 3 weeks of travel, but Nari remembered what she had felt, she knew that the blue oval was a dragon’s egg. After quickly packing her things, she set off on a quest that would define her life. Nari stepped out the front door of her house, she never looked back.

Nari stamped into the inn, she was soaked, water drizzled out of her clothes and down her legs, the thundering rain behind her. She had been transporting the egg, without issue, and was confident she could get it to Durus, but the weather had put her in a bad mood. Nari basicly dashed into the entrance room, bought a bed and shower from the small hotel clerk at the front desk and ran up stairs to her room. After Nari changed her clothes and had a showered, she decided to go down to the bar, it was probably going to be shabby but a nice drink would be good for her. “I can’t believe there are so many people here!” Nari thought. She plopped down into one of the remaining bar stools, its cushion felt well used and squishy. Nari raised her hand and a bartender quickly bustled over to her.

“What do ya want?” he spat. “Definitely not tipping tonight”, Nari told herself. She ordered a simple beer, it was pretty good compared to the service, and, very cheap. Nari decided that one beer was enough, she did not want to pay for another night at the inn. As she spun around on her bar stool to get up, Nari froze, three brutes of men were staring right at her, she quickly bustled upstairs to her room. she knew that she would be off early in the morning. Nari did not like the way those men looked at her.

The sun gleamed like new hope in the morning darkness, its small fiery tendrils reaching like arms above the horizon. The entrance door to the inn creaked as Nari stepped out into the glare, the morning was frosty, but, at least there was the sun to provide her warmth. Her shoes made a glopping noise as they hit the cobbled streets, alley cats running into garbage pails along the alleys. Just then, Nari heard something, she listened, it was the pitter patter of approaching feet. She cursed, spun around and saw the men that had been looking at her in the bar, about seventy feet away. they drew knifes. Nari felt her throbbing heart pounding in her chest as if a stampede of elephants were inside her, she heard the ever increasing “BOOM!” “BOOM!” in her ears. As Nari turned to run, a Deafening voice cried out “Halt!” Naris tensed muscles froze, An old hunched back figure stepped from the shadows in an alley in front of her. Nari willed her body to run, to do something, Anything! But where would she go, she was trapped, so, she waited. The old man brushed past Nari and whispered under his breath “wait here, we must talk”. The brutes behind her seemed confused, then one said “old man, move before we rob you too!”. The old man chuckled And kept walking forward as if the Brutes with knifes and torn jeans were not even there. Naris stomach tightened “what was he thinking!” she screamed in her mind. He was nearly two feet away when the first man sung his fist straight at the old man’s head, the old man caught his clenched hand right before his eye, twisted it with an audible snap. Then, just a mere few milliseconds after, the old man brought his Ivory staff up and cracked it across the brutes face. The first Rober lay crumpled on the floor. Then, one after the other, all three brutes lay broken on the floor. The old man slowly, seeming to be aching with the pain of old age, turned to Nari. Nari, fearing the worst began to shout with protest, and back away from the now seemingly harmless old man. He simply raised a hand, silencing Nari. Then, with words silent and fragile, nothing like the loud echoing voice he had had before, the old man muttered. “When I saw you child, I felt something, I know you are important and that perhaps, perhaps the fate of our world rests upon you. Take my staff! Carry it with you at all times, and when you need it most. It will help you.” and with that he turned and left.

Nagini knew he was on her trail, he had heard that a young girl had walked through the town just yesterday, in a matter of time the dragon egg would be his. Though he knew that he had to be quicker, if the girl could get the egg back to its master before he caught her, he would have no chance. “No! I can not think like that”, Nagini said to himself.

The bells wailed in evening darkness, their sharp clangs reverberating in Nari’s head. Just seven minutes ago, she had stolen a horse from a stable, it had a long white mane and a white coat. Somehow, though, somebody had caught her and set of the warning bells. Nari saw, out of the back of her eyes, police coming behind her. She took off, her horse galloping.

Nari was scared, she knew that at the other side of the city she would return the dragon egg to its master, but she wondered if she would make it. With the guards chasing her she- Naris thoughts were cut off. she rode into a square that was empty except for one man, he was wearing dark clothing torn and tattered from use, had a golden belt on with different gems and etched in the front of the belt was the word Deltora. He laughed a mournful horrible cackle, it echoed around the empty square. Then, without further a do, he drew a sword from his back. Nari, standing no chance in sword to staff combat with this mysterious figure, decided to test her luck. She kicked hard into the stomach of the horse, it sprang of like a mouse trap and dashed toward the man. He did not budge, but simply stood there. Right as the horse was about to hit him, he pulled back out of the way, and brought down his sword with a cry. The horses kneecap shattered. Nari flew off the horse’s back and landed sprawled in a puddle of dirty water. With another war cry the man stabbed the fallen horse through the neck, killing it. Then, he turned to face Nari. Quickly, thinking fast, Nari pulled the staff from her back and held in front of her.

“Stay back!” she yelled. The man just laughed.

“Why!” he challenged. Again, with a mighty laugh.

Then, in two quick strokes of his sword, he had Nari on the ground. He lifted his sword preparing to bring it down on Nari and finish her off. Before he could even begin to swing it, though, the staff in Naris hands glowed, and exploded forward blasting the man into the air. He fell to the ground and crumpled.

As Nari stood, she felt bruises all over her body. All her pain went away as she said, “I have done it. I will return the egg.”

Nari lay in a field full of flowers, their petals as red as blood. The sun warmed her. The now quite large dragon baby chasing a butterfly around the pasture. After returning the egg to its master, who she now knew as Lord Eragon, she had decided to take a break before embarking on another quest. The quest for the lost skull.