Amulet

[OMGAKITTY]

So, one day, in psychology, I realized that the class was really easy, and that I was really bored. So I decided to start writing a book.

 

Then one day, I came to this section because I was asked to read/review a fanfic. I noticed that the subforum label was rather deceptive, since there are quite a few non-yugioh related fanfics, and a few fics that aren't really fan-based at all. So I decided to post a chapter of what I wrote. Out of boredom.

 

 

*title is kind of lame, but I haven't spent much time thinking of a better one...this is just what the word document was saved as, so its what I'm calling it.

 

[spoiler=Chapter I]

Rotten fruit. The whole Upper Quarter always smelled of rotten fruit in the spring. It was the Tokeira blossoms. Beautiful, delicate, white blossoms that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. Tokeira trees only blossom after their fruit starts to decay. Beauty masking decay, and apt analogy for the wealthy in Althora. Eyes watering, Allo Traver, messenger boy, stumbled through the streets, looking for the governor’s home. Allo hated having to deliver to the Upper Quarter in the spring, the cloying stench of rotten Tokeira fruit would stick to his cloths and hair for days afterward. Allo picked up his pace; he did not want to stay here any longer than he had to. Turning a corner, he finally spotted Governor Patries’ manor. It was a massive structure, full of soaring arches and spiraled columns. Almost every available inch of it had been gilded. The whole of it looked like some massive yellow toad, glowing sickly in the sunlight. To call it an eyesore, or an abomination, would not do the structure justice. The miasma of the Tokeira trees was particularly strong here. Gagging slightly, Allo made his way up the long path to the manor doors. The door opened, and a blast of perfume hit Allo straight in the face. It was overly sweet and not much of an improvement over the smell of rotting fruit. A tall gaunt man stood in the doorway, looking down his sharp nose imperiously at the youth.

 

“Can I…help you?” asked the butler, holding a scented handkerchief to his nose.

 

“Please, suh, Oi have eh ‘ackage for the guv’nuh, if ‘ou please, suh.” Answered Allo, adopting the accents of the Beggars’ Quarter, which he had learned all rich people expected from the poor. The last time he had spoken without the accent, a passing merchant had had him beaten, for being “too uppity”.

 

“Just a moment.” The butler disappeared within the manor.

“What? A package? No! Don’t let him in! I don’t want his filth all over my home! I’ll go to him.”

 

Governor Patries waddled to the door. He was a fat man, although fat does not do justice to this man’s girth. Governor Patries was an enormous man, so large, one wonders how he had managed to get up and get to the door at all, and especially in such a timely fashion. His beady eyes, which seemed to be in constant danger of being swallowed by the bulbous flesh on his face, peered out suspiciously at Allo.

 

“Yes? You have a package for me?” he demanded gruffly.

 

“Yes suh, from ‘e merchant Florence, suh.”

 

Patries snatched the package from Allo’s hands, looking at it like it had personally insulted him. He started to turn around and close the door, when Allo coughed politely.

 

“You’re still here?” asked the governor belligerently.

 

“Moi tip, suh. ‘ou’ve seemed to forgotten moi tip.”

 

“Tip? TIP?” Patries roared. “You want a tip?” he gathered saliva in his mouth and spit at Allo.

 

“Be thankful that I don’t feed you to my hounds for such impudence! Tip! You are lucky I am such a kind and fair man, insolent trash! I should have you beaten!”

 

And with that, the governor slammed the door.