Grapes' Writing Exercises

"write about three random things"

"The Elders are hungry, August," Lilac reminded gently but firmly. "You can't just run back every time something scares you."

"Killing animals doesn't scare me," August argued, though the usual stubbornness in her voice when she argued about this was not present. Her no-longer-sparkling eyes were trained on the golden brown deer ahead like it would disappear if she dared have the willpower to look away. "It's just...wrong."

"Sometimes we have to do what we'd rather not for the sake of others," Lilac cautioned. "You know that, don't you?"

In a world where every community fends for themself, nobody can afford to be selfish, said a voice from Lilac's early days in school as a little girl. As time went on, she grew to know what those words meant.

August forced a smile. "Yeah. Let's do this thing." She raised her own bow and fixed her eyes on the animal, firing an arrow to penetrate its golden skin. The deer crumpled to the ground with a soft crunch, making August wince.

"Do you want to pick where we go next?" Lilac suggested. "I know a nice place by the river where the rabbits like to-"

"Stop." August's eyes narrowed. She lowered her bow at last and pointed to the camp. Several birds frantically flew away from the pocket of houses among the circle of trees. Distant screams carried across the outer circle of field.

As August and Lilac made eye contact, their gaping mouths and wide eyes shared one message: They're back, and they're not happy.

"We have to go," Lilac ordered. August nodded and took Lilac's hand, smiling with a reassuring kind of warmth that said, "Whatever happens, I will be here."

Oh, how wrong she was.

Together, hand in hand, they sprinted like they weighed nothing but wind and were as powerful as lightning. As they came closer to the village the screams not only became louder but more frequent as well. With every shriek Lilac's heart twisted with pain, like all the nerves of her people were connected to hers, forcing her to feel every stab in the chest, every punch to the jaw. By the time Lilac and August got to the entrance to the village and Lilac was shoving vines out of her way, she was ready to collapse.

Just as Lilac feared, the once-peaceful wooden homes of her beloved village were up in flames, crackling fierce reds, oranges, and golds. Screams echoed from the village walls and projectiles that moved too fast to be identifiable ricocheted off fountains and barrels.

The soldiers fought like the wrath of the Underworld itself against invaders with iron chestplates and ivory white banners on their backs. Without hesitation, August charged into the fight on the left and ripped a banner off someone's back with her bare hands. Lilac took the right, wrapping someone's neck in a chokehold until they dropped like a playing card.

Lilac picked up a neglected blade on the charred ground and swung it at every enemy in my path. Whenever she got tired, she listened to the screams of the people she grew up with- family, friends, children who deserve a happy, peaceful life- and kept slashing.

Her heart almost stopped when she looked up from the trail of blood below her. In the center of the town square, dozens upon dozens of citizens were tied up with rope on piles of wood. A soldier with a white and golden cape like an angel's halo held an ignited torch to the sky. They chanted a message in another language to above.

"Lilac!" said a desperate, muffled voice from behind. Lilac forced her head to whip around when she recognized the voice, the voice of the one she cared about more than anyone else. August was behind, a calloused and bloody hand covering her mouth. Tears dripped down her cheeks, making dirt on August's face disappear wherever they decided to spill.