Creative Writing: The Handmaid's Tale

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areful emerald eyes watched the royal family depart with Lady Zerarah and the prince of Fredenbezigung. Athan remained where he was, pondering the task his king asked him to do and whether he trusted Rangor's guest or not. He didn't, not entirely. Something about the way the other walked, talked, an air of arrogance swept for Sossa's brother to feel centerfold. It felt peculiar. Stringy unkempt hair glided against his hairless face, the young warrior waited in the foyer devotedly looking after his family until they were no longer in sight, the festivities bound to keep them busy as others native to this grand country. Lips pressed inward, his head lowered, and he turned around thoughtful. Had it not been for his king surely he and Sossa may …show more content…

He settled them on the woman at Prince Thaddeus' side, Ura, she occupied a balcony peering down at him. To Amon's guard, it seemed nothing would penetrate the coldness she showered to all those around her. The wave of arrogance touched her too. He vaguely wondered what she went through to be this way. It reminded him a bit of the mother long gone. How when he was small she argued with his father blaming him for everything. As a child Athan understood the unhappiness in the household, pretty much all he remembered before moving to Dathagkor. Ura frowned at him, turned around showing him her back. His unease returned. Opting not to head back to the palace, Athan left the premises to go to his own home in the heart of the festive city, one he shared with Sossa but neither were truly here often due to their work. Walking inside the household, he was greeted by cooked mint leaves from when Sossa purchased them in the market as an added air freshner. This was three weeks ago and still he smelled what at the time he thought to be annoying. It was extra dark exploring the three bedroom space. His boots hit the concrete flooring as he made way into his own room to clean himself and change …show more content…

The cloak of a desert tiger hide wrapped around his neck attached by a silver crest. He obtained it when age thirteen, in training, at his king's side when roaming the wilds. The animal ambused the caravan. With the mindset to protect the king, he slew it using a broad sword. His first kill. A rite of passage for those sent into the world to survive. He kept as a reminder, the way things could've gone yet didn't. Draped around his broad shoulders, the man wore a white partial suiting jacket over a collared silk red shirt. His fitted pants matched the jacket, boots were long, above the ankles. A golden medallion lined his left breast pocket. Taking no more time needed, he snatched up a small jewelry box on his way out making sure his weapon belt had no empty slots in it hidden under the

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