Here’s an excerpt from my NaNoWriMo novel, Servitude and Rebellion, a story about a slave girl who learns the meaning of freedom and value in a world where the color of your hair determines your place in society.
-Please note that as is a first draft, there has been little to no editing taking place-
Claryssa waited for an eternity in the shadows near the buyers stage. Where was he? She wasn’t worried, but he was pushing up the details of their plan. Then a shadow slipped in through the shadows next to her. She sighed dramatically.
“Finally! I’d thought you’d become as soulless as a loyante and decided to stay there ‘for the good of your master’ or some other trash that they believe.” She laughed quietly.
Shawn said nothing, just leaned against the wall. His face, or what she could see of it in the shadowy alleyway, was hard as a rock, and, dare she say it, more, if possible, serious, that usual.
“What’s wrong?” She asked. Still he said nothing. She tilted her head to the side, a sign of her annoyance.
“Seriously, what is going on? You never laugh at my jokes, but now you seem almost seething. Is it…” The crowds where cheering again, another purple being brought out for show and tell, the necessary ordeal to gain their freedom. Shawn stared at the direction of the sound. Claryssa knew how much he hated it, but there was more to it today. She waited instead of prodding on. Her brother could be more dramatic than even she was at times, and he certainly felt more for the whole loyante population than she did.
“You don’t know the half of it.” He said, finally making a sound after a whole five minutes. She sighed.
“Finally. I’d thought you’d forgotten how to talk.”
Shawn turned to her with a really odd look, a reminiscing kind of look.
“I thought she had too. And I don’t think she would have said anything if I hadn’t kept talking and saying things that contradicted the lies that she had been believing. There was a lot of shock. They just don’t know.”
“Well right now, I have no idea who you are talking about. Who didn’t say anything. Have you been wasting mission talking to some loyante again? You know we don’t have much time before the breakout!” She chided with the air of an older sister. Little brothers were so hard to control!
“I thought, dear sister,” he said with a bitingly polite sense of sarcasm. He was irritatingly nice that way. “That our mission was to the loyantes, to give them freedom that they really don’t know that they don’t have. You should’ve seen the bars of that cage, how wide apart they were. And she just sat, huddled in ball, on the inside. The guards are nothing. They can leave just like that.”
“Assuming we motivate them enough. They are so thick, they’ll barely understand what we’re doing for them.”
“They’re not stupid,” he snapped, his eyes lighting fire. This was something he felt very passionate about. Annoyingly so.
“They sure do a good job of hiding it then. Come on, we have to make sure they have a clear exit. There’s only five minutes until Tomas said it was time. And there’s definitely going to be a storm coming.”