If Claudia’s best friend, Selma, had never accidentally revealed that she could talk to plants, then she never would’ve been arrested. Claudia wouldn’t have had to go after her or be imprisoned herself. She wouldn’t have met Erik, escaped from the fire that killed the prison guards and supposedly both of the king’s sons – Erik being one of them.
If Claudia hadn’t discovered that she too had a special ability – to persuade people with words – they wouldn’t have survived the fire, the king wouldn’t have committed suicide, and the power-hungry council wouldn’t have had the opportunity to steal the throne and plunge the world into another century of oppression.
But Selma did accidentally reveal that she could talk to plants, and the effects of the discovery are bigger than the two teenagers could imagine.
Andra is a 75,000 word young adult fantasy. Thank you for your consideration and I look forward to hearing from you.
The first moon, Aikia, was already in the sky when I left school that night. Soon Aikia’s sister, Ladia, would appear and it would be after curfew. Here in Sicyon curfew is not something to be ignored on a whim or even a need. The scars on my back are proof enough of that.
The kids pushed and shoved as they poured out around me, all anxious to get home with their tattered clothes and government-issued school books. None of them were willing to be late and be the latest punching bag for the Bevak, the law keepers of our world often got out of hand with their punishments.
I glanced around for my best friend, Selma, and finally caught sight of her walking away with her head down. She too wore clothes sewn by her mother, though hers and mine were a little better made on account of both our mothers worked as seamstresses in a clothing factory.
“Hey wait up!” I called, running after her. She paused, not looking at me. Her black hair shone like a polished piece of onyx in the moonlight and her features were cast into shadow. Selma had always been a pretty girl, but never returned the affections of any of the boys around our school. We’d been through thick and thin together, friends since the cradle as our mothers often said.
“Hey,” she mumbled not looking at me.