The Graced

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My fan fiction is based on the book Graceling by Kristin Cashore. The plot of this book follows Lady Kasta of Middluns, a girl graced with killing. To be graced means one ability of yours is super enhanced and you have mixed-matched eyes (ex. a girl graced with dancing has yellow and purple eyes). Kasta soon meets Prince Po of Linaed and they both decide to uncover the mystery of King Leck of Monsea. They save the cruel king'\s daughter and bring her to Po's family where the king is killed by Kasta. My story is based on Olden, a boy graced with swimming and his adventures in King Randa of Middluns' castle.

Olden was terrified. He was trapped in a small prison cart taking all the graced to the capital, Randa city. He was graced like the rest in the cart, but his grace was just simple swimming, nothing useful like fighting or cooking or anything good. He heard that some fighters that go to the city are so obsessed with fighting that one actually killed a courtier! Olden looked around. These rough kids looked no older than him, maybe younger. They all looked as scared as him, at least except for one. Her name was Cassandra, and with her stunning purple and yellow eyes she was lucky enough to be graced with dancing. All graced knew if you were graced with dancing you were considered almost elite. They were more accepted into society than others, with their mixed-matched eyes. The king even married his heir to a foreign princess graced with dancing!

In the cart, Cassandra was going on about how lucky she was to be taken from home. "I knew if I didn't get out of that slime hole than and there I would never get out, so I hopped in the cart and left." She said in a mocking tone, knowing none of us wanted to be there. Finally a girl graced with stealth stood up and said, "Cassandra, NO ONE CARES!" Then she was thrown to the floor of the cart as it came to an abrupt halt.

"Everyone out. We're here. The capitol, Randa City." As he said this all of us piled out of the tiny cart and were marched through the streets barefoot to the royal counting houses to be sorted like livestock.

Before he was up, Olden leaned over and whispered to the girl who girl who stood up to Cassandra. The girl then turned and looked at him with her unsettling black and orange eyes.

"Leslie" she breathed into his ear. Before he could tell her his, they were whisked apart, to be washed and made presentable to the king.

As Olden was dragged in to the washroom he gasped. He had never seen such a huge room. To him the vaulted ceiling seemed a mile away. His amazement didn't last long as he was soon thrown under piping hot water and was scrubbed until he was sore. Next Olden was lifted from the huge tub, was fitted, and was dressed in a tunic of maroon and silver, the colors of the court.

Finally he breathed a sigh of relief only to breathe it in again when he found he was being taken to the throne room.

When the graceling from the country walked in he thought, if the bathroom was big, the throne room was godlike! Huge, with tapestries hanging on the walls, blanketing the room in maroon and silver.

Olden was still in awe when the king called attention. The trials of the graceling have started.

As always the girls went first, going in alphabetical order, so Cassandra was right at the front. She stood up and walked to the center of the room.

"Hello, my name is Cassandra and my grace is dancing," she said without a stammer. "I am 14, have purple and yellow eyes, and I think I should be at court because I could entertain you." Flawless, just as we all rehearsed.

"Well Cassandra," sneered the king "I already have many... entertainers, but I could always use another." And with that, Cassandra was seized by the guards and dragged to the servants' quarters.

That's how the trials went, and Olden didn't pay much attention until he heard, "Hello, my name is Leslie." He immediately snapped to attention.

"My grace is stealth." Good so far, he thought. "I am thirteen and have orange and black eyes." She might survive. "And I have no idea why I would stay at court!" WHAT!

The king was intrigued, "Why would you say that?"

"I don't want to be here, and you barely let in that girl horse groomer. Why would you want me?"

The king looked at her with eyes gleaming with questions. "Send her to the dungeons. We'll discuss this later."

And with that Leslie laughed. She laughed as the guard seized her, and she laughed when the guards dragged her out. Olden could still hear her laughter when he walked to the center of the room.

"H-hello," my first mistake, "M-my name i-is Olden and my g-grace is is..." my next mess up. "swimming." Saying his grace, Olden suddenly gathered up his confidence. "I am 13 and have blue and silver eyes, and I could help catch criminals who flee by water," he said proudly.

"I live in a land-locked country, so I have no use for you." Turning to his guard, the king said, "Take him to the holding cell with the others who didn't make the cut."

Even as the guards seized him, Olden was elated. He got to go home!

When they finally made it to the dungeon there was a huge commotion. The larger of Olden's guards' grabbed another's arm and asked what was going on. "The rebel graceling escaped! No one told us her grace was stealth!" he said, ripping away to yell to another guard. "Chris! Take this one to the holding cell with the others!" Olden was handed to another guard, a graced one.

The guard leaned over. "I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours," he whispered in Olden's ear.

"Swimming," Olden breathed.

The guard hesitated. "My real grace is mind reading, but I lie and say it's archery," he said, staring at Olden.

Olden gaped at him. "What! You lied about your grace! Wait, why are you telling me this?"

They turned the corner into an empty hallway. "Because I want you to join the rebellion," he replied his eyes flashing. "That girl, Leslie, is a part of it, and so is her sister Cassandra. We fe-"

"Wait, those two are sisters?" Olden interrupted.

"Yes, of course. What do you say?" Chris asked impatiently.

"T-to rebellion?" Olden asked, his stutter retuning,

"Hmmm?" Chris was glaring at him.

"Uummm, N-no sorry," He replied.

Chris groaned but nodded. They turned another corner to a room with cells lining the walls, each holding 1 to 2 gracelings. All together about 7 of the original 20 were being sent home because of anything ranging from useless abilities to disloyalty, or even ugliness.

Olden was directly thrown into the same tiny cart that brought him to the city. He soon found a cozy spot for the long ride back.

Three Months Later

Olden was herding his sheep when the news came. When he read it, he laughed. He laughed as the messenger walked away, and he laughed as he went back to his herd.

He laughed because of the short message he received. This message was only four words, but four words that would change a nation.

The king is dead.

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Hey this was my entry for a writing contest, I plan to modifiy and slowly add onto it.

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