To some, it was a key. To others, it was junk. To people who could see its power, it was a treasure. To her, it was the holder of her friend’s soul. And she vowed to never let anyone destroy it. Which meant hiding their ancestry from her only daughter. Did their bloodline matter more, or did her friend? They were the last of their kind. Withholding the information all the way to her death would mean the Tiro’s would be lost forever. Was it worth it? Two paths, both irresistible and tempting. Both with rewards and consequences. In the end, she decided that her friend was more important than their blood.

Authors note: kind of the prompt? Also planning to be part of the book I’m writing. Also, ignore all grammar mistakes.

The blue sky, filled with pale, puffy white clouds. The rolling hills, covered in lush green grass, thriving. Unlike me. It all seems so peaceful, beautiful, unlike me. After everything, I’m close to breaking. To falling down into a deep abyss of darkness, and never thinking about trying to find my way back. My whole life was a lie. I’m not who I thought, not a normal girl who is just trying to be happy and stay alive. I’m centuries old in a younger form, my bloodline passed down from generations, my memories sealed. I wonder what my life would have been like if I hadn’t ran away that night. The night that I had thought the person who I called mother was lost, too, after seven years of my father gone. But Stardrava was right, she was never a mother to me. Just a vengeful person with a tragic backstory, trying to use me for redemption. My mind flashes back to the moment when I finally broke free. It was the right thing to do - everyone should be given at least one chance of freedom. But her blood curling screams, the blood gushing out, the howling, then the silent crack, still roars in my ears. Guilt is something powerful that I’ve never fought with much, because I always gave in to the other’s person desires. The past is the past, I remind myself, trying to tear my mind away from those thoughts. Or is it? Lifetime after lifetime, I’d be reborn, with no thought of my earlier problems, nothing. But no one can run forever. [Still thinking about it?] I spin around, expecting to see Stardrava’s beautiful star patterns glinting off of her even in the dim light, but she’s not there. I’m still not used to the fact that we can talk anytime, anywhere, even after all these months together. Yes, I admit, twisting the delicate fabric of my shirt. [Don’t let it consume you. Fight it back. You’re strong enough to, despite your doubts. Release her ashes, let yourself grieve, and see it over with. Move on.] I don’t want to. But she’s right. I take out the stopper on the bottle and use my pocket knife to slash my palm, letting my blood fall onto it. I can feel my dragon’s surprise. [Do you really want her to be reincarnated with you?] Maybe. But like me, she was a puppet to a higher force. This whole mess was caused by an ancient mistake. In her next life, she will have her chance. The ash slowly drifts out, but is then swept up by the wind, swirling and bunching together. Plumes of smoke form, and finally, they disperse, leaving no trace behind. Fresh tears prick my eyes, and they drip to the ground. But this brings me back to the time when she told me I wasn’t her daughter, she was never my mother. Anger bubbles from this revelation, rising to my throat. It fills my mind, making me inwardly twist and convulse. It boils, everything I’ve buried, emotions, words, thoughts, they join in, rebelling. The heat washes over me, grabbing my throat, suffocating me. And I let it out with a scream. A scream so loud, it echoes through the entire valley, causing birds to flee. A scream so filled with anger, hate, darkness, that every creature, human, big and small shudders, wondering who was causing this new force. Who had possibly so much power, besides their new hero. And a thought passes through them all… Is another war coming? But I don’t care. Why was I grieving? She didn’t deserve my sadness for her. She had plenty of chances to make everything up, to fix her mistakes, but she was too blind to see the. [No, no, no. Do not fall down this path. Do not let it take you.] But I’m too lost to hear it. Somewhere, whether it was up in the sky, or down in the Earth, my mother smiles. Then laughs, a sound not pleasing, nor sexy, like the ones she used to do at those cursed parties. It’s the voice of a monster, fueled by my anger. Realization hits me. I had never won. This was just the beginning.

Authors note: this like only the third time I’ve written a poem so uh don’t judge plez

I have a house Sky blue and bright In my room Is where I stay all night

But is it home? That I don’t know I have parents that care for me But perhaps this isn’t the right place

In my head, is where I like to stay Away from reality, away from troubles Experiencing feeling I try to suppress Soaring away, floating in bubbles

I like to roam in the nature Where it is silent, and I’m free The cascading falls And I sing with glee

My home, I like to think Is where I fit in But I don’t, anywhere With anyone, or anything

Maybe I have no home I have an address, but no home For now, my imagination is all I have In the darkness, I sit alone

Authors note: at this point I don’t even know what to say

I slid my backpack across the table and the hooded figure peered inside. I was supposed to be doing my homework, but someone, who was a complete a stranger and right across the table, interrupted me. “Where the hell did you find this?” he yelped. “Find what?” “This!” He pulled out the palm sized round white rock I had painted two days ago. “In my backyard?” “Do you have any idea what this is?!” he exclaims. I stared at him with confusion. “…A rock?” He shook his head. “No, this is a dragon egg with no bonder. Unclaimed. By sending your color to it, you have claimed it and it is now yours.” What the hell? “Are you like a person really into performing arts? Because all I did was paint a rock that sort of looks like an egg.” “The paint you used was enchanted by your touch, sending your magic through.” Ok, that was it. “Alright dude. I don’t know what you’re talking about but please get out of my house. I’ve got a project I need to complete, and it counts for 70 percent of this quarter’s grades, so I really need to finish it. So please, get out or I’ll call the police.” He sighed. “There are so much more things to worry about then grades. Like a Bonded marrying a non-believer. But, very well. Call me if you change your mind.” He placed a white card on the table. Then, he disappeared. No dramatic stuff like smoke or everything turning black. He just vanished. That was weird.

Authors note: the most crappiest thing I’ve ever wrote

It’s Christmas Eve. And Santa never came. Because I killed him. How? With a knife. Why? Because he sucked. My last words to him? Womp womp.

My home. Our home. I stand in front of it now. Had I not been here for seven years, hiding, observing every inch, I would have not found it. It once was our sanctuary. Now that place is long gone, buried, frozen in sheets of ice. Icicles hang from the ceiling. To others, it’s nothing. Just a small, dark, wet insignificant place that no one wants to enter, much less stay in. A place bleary and colorless, only for the desperate. We were desperate. Desperate enough to go in and uncover the inner sanctuary. However, with others calling us, we had to leave. And with no one to tend to it, to keep it alive, it died out, freezing every beautiful things it had to offer. I had hoped it wouldn’t turn out this way. Hope can be a powerful thing, a small flicker in the endless night, blazing through the obstacles. But it can’t battle reality. I should’ve known. Should’ve prepared. But I was born here. So I’ll die here.

Authors note: I don’t think I did what the prompt said but eh Act calm. I repeated the thought every step the psychopath took. “You have 5 minutes to tell me why I shouldn’t kill you,” she spat. Act calm, I thought again. Hold on. Why was I telling myself to act calm? Why was I trying to act calm? Why was I not normally calm? BECAUSE SHE’S ABOUT TO KILL YOU, my mind answered. But maybe, I think back, maybe she’ll kill Leafa That Likes to Yap, and I won’t yap anymore. I looked her in the eye. “Quick question. How much would I have to pay you to only kill Leafa That Likes to Yap?” The girl looked at me with a look that seemed like a mix of shock, confusion, and insanity. “What?” “How much?” “You’re not going to kill me?” I gave her a confused look. “I’m the one in the chair, I can’t kill you.” The world suddenly rippled and the psychopath smiled. Her features began to change. She spoke, her voice now soft and whispery, and then I realized to my horror, she was me. “In your mind perhaps, but I’m blocking your view of reality. You’re now chained as much as I was. Good luck finding your way out.”

Authors note: this won’t make any sense so…deal with it. Also: one cuss word

“She’s not who she says she is!” I slink into the shadows as Iorelia points a finger at my friend, whose head is down. “What do you mean?” a fellow dragon rider asks. “She’s not the First Chief’s daughter! Someone else is!” Murmurs sweep the clearing. Shit. Don’t tell them, I silently pray toward Naksoli. “You’re right,” Naksoli mumbles. “I’m not the First Chief’s daughter.” She looks at me. No, no, no. “Lumire is.”

I skittered around the trunk of the tree, listening for any sign of movements. So far, none. Not even the chirp of a cricket. I supposed this was what my home had become after the Hunters had taken over. CRUNCH I whipped out my knife and lunged toward the source of the sound, teeth bared. I brought my arm back and swung- “Wait! Please! It’s me!” I stopped in mid-motion. “Travis?” I kept the knife up, though. In the dim light, I saw a teenager with cobalt around my age. He nodded, desperately. “What are you doing here?” I growled, taking a step closer. He backed up. “I didn’t choose to be here! None of us did.” I spat at the ground. “Stupid bloodline.” Eyeing him, I said, “give me one reason of why I shouldn’t kill you.” His eye widened in fear. “You wouldn’t!” “Why shouldn’t I? Your group destroyed the only place I call home, they killed my sister who was only the age of six, and they’re forcing twenty other people to do these trials, and see if we survive. You said you didn’t have a choice? You said you didn’t want to be here? Well, if I kill you, you don’t have to be here.” Then I slashed.

The early morning breeze swept through the open window. Bird chirps filled the empty silence, leaves rustling. I sat on the couch, scrolling YouTube. I was bored. A knock suddenly rattled through the house. I got up and went to check it out. Opening the door, I found nothing but a envolope that obviously had something besides a sheet of paper. Carefully, I sliced it open and took out the folded sheet. It read- 𝕎𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟'𝕥 𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖. 𝔻𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕖? 𝕀𝕗 𝕀 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕤, 𝕟𝕠. 𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕣𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥. 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕕𝕠. 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕕𝕒𝕪. 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕚𝕕. 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦 - 𝕕𝕚𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕀 𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦? 𝕀 𝕘𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕤 𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕗𝕥. 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕚𝕥'𝕕 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝟛𝟘 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕦𝕥𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕥. 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕦𝕥𝕖𝕤. 𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕓𝕪𝕖. A bright flash erupted.