i just hit the switch

4/25/20 - here, my friend and I decided to switch writing age-ranges (me being more comfortable with YA, her with middle-grade stories). So here’s my attempt at a middle-grade style story.

When the ship docked into the port, Harper leaned over prow, squinting to see the hazy outline of the palace. Even through the hazy fog, the castle sparkled, golden turrets just barely catching even the slightest of sun vibes. Below, the harbor bustled with activity — fisherman appraising their most recent catch, shopkeepers dusting their stalls, beggars shaking outstretched palms. The town of Gotsven was evidently built off of coin. Harper knew those times of towns, with seedy underbellies and streets roiling with either opulence or depravity. Harper knew what to do in those towns too: hit faster than a pickpocket’s hand. Break a deal faster than a sweat. Every girl on the Isle knew when a hero came from one of those towns.

So Gotsven — with its colorful laughter and winks, its gold and silver and bronze out in the open, its bright red flags dancing even in the hazy morning — must be a trick.  

“Damian,” Harper called over her shoulder. If her voice wavered at the beauty of this town, she hoped none of the crew would notice.  “This place isn’t right.”

“Huh?” The familiar thump of Damian’s boots hitting the deck, followed by the thick swoosh of his cloak pulled up next to her. “What d’ya mean?”

She gestured vaguely to the harbor. “Look! It’s…it’s…”

“...busy?”

“Careless.” She hissed. “Not even a guard at the jewelry booth!”

Damian snickered. Harper turned around to make a face before she realized her friend had, for the first time since they met, stripped off the oversized cloak. It fell into a puddle of velvet at his feet.

“Of course not,” he said, sounding pleased. Green silk lined his sleeves, and a white vest was buttoned to his collar. Everything he wore was hemmed with gold, but the most notable piece of all was the diadem in his hair — sparkling amidst his dark hair the same way the castle turrets did in the mist. “My brother made sure Gotsven was the safest town this side of the Divide”

Suddenly, confetti burst into the air around them. The townspeople had gathered at the port, waving red flags to the air. The symbol on the flags, a diamond twisted at its center, glinted in the morning light — the same symbol as Damian’s cloak. From below, a voice rang out shrilly.

“The Royal Prince Damian has returned!”

Harper took one look at the harbor, one look at Damian’s crown, and slugged him across his smug face.