preview

Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

Decent Essays

Watching the heavens above with my keen, blue eyes, I fasten the last link of my chestplate, pulling it tightly against my ribs until I feel the familiar squeeze around my chest. The heavens are bright today, not a cloud in sight. Wind filters through the field, whipping a few longer strands of hair around my face. The gnawing feeling in my stomach won’t quit. Turning around, I take a deep breath and count my companions, all of whom were still getting dressed in their chainmail. I think one of them might die today.
Securing my sword onto my hip, I trudge to the stables, where only a few servants still linger to help my companions and I. A small blond stablehand leads my steed over, and I mount it with the ease of a weathered rider. …show more content…

It’s blazing hot, and we stumble into a new village, one with a large tavern and plenty of women that keep most of the knights entranced. My king sits to the side, uninterested in the women who drink with our companions. He instead sips at his meade and thinks of his wife, a goddess of a woman who sits on her throne and braids her handmaidens’ locks with the skill of a seamstress. I join him, and together, we sit silently, the tavern’s light flickering off his stone face and my soft features.
Guinevere’s expecting a child,” he tells me as Trystan drunkenly dances with a young blonde, “but something tells me it’s not right.”
“The village that I was born in is a day’s ride from here,” I sip at my ale, and my king replies with silence.
The next morning we find ourselves in trouble. A group of mercenaries leaping from the bushes caught us off guard, and we crawled to the next town, my town, two horses short and Trystan gravely injured. He makes it through the night, but the terrible feeling deep inside me still does not disappear, so I leave the inn we’re sleeping in to go exploring.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, m’lady,” I tell a pretty seamstress late in the afternoon, “do you happen to know of a Badrick and Mildred?”
“I’m sorry sir,” she places her basket of clothes down on the ground near her feet, “but they died shortly after their daughter Héloise left them. If you asked me, I think they died of heartbreak; they

Get Access