Draft 1

O’Shea Lindquist

03/11/2026

ENG 203

Professor McDonald

Children Of Blood And Bone

Ash fell from the heavens, flames swallowed everything in its path until the colors of red, orange and yellow lit up the night sky. Smoke filled my lungs as I tried to escape. The screams of women and children, and the images of soldiers with our nation’s crest, bounding the men in chains killing some. As I begin to gasp for air I can feel myself fading more and more into darkness; Each time I see my mother standing in front of me. Her beautiful long black silky hair, adorned with crystals and gold headpieces. Her satin red dress. Every time I got closer and closer to her the smell of cedar, patchouli, sage and smoke clouds my lungs. As I woke up in a pool of sweat, It felt so real. It’s going on the 10th night of me having that dream, It begins to feel just like a memory.

Amari..Amari… Princess Amari…wake up! That voice, it was the voice of my best friend and servant Binta. Her voice seemed to pull me back into reality each time I had that horrible dream. Each time Binta sighs I sign of relief.

You had that awful dream again didn’t you? She asked. As much as I tried to hide it, I couldn’t unfortunately the sweat dripping down my face and the tears in my eyes always tell a different story.

At times I feel like I have no one else I can talk to, except for my trusted servant Binta. She’s more than a servant to me, she’s my sister. Binta has been by my side longer than I can imagine, she means so much more to me than anything. I tell her of my dreams and she assures me it’s nothing I should worry about, but mom feels so real how could she be a dream I wonder?. I try to ignore these thoughts in my head and move forward with the day. Everyday it’s the same, I wake up in the palace, I have someone dress me, bathe me and feed me. I’m not allowed to leave the walls of the palace, I’m confined in this prison. My father, the king, has control over mines and my brother’s movement. Oh how I long for the day that I’m free to explore beyond the palace walls and know what life is like, the taste, the smells, the people.

One day as I was returning from training, I noticed my father acting strangely. He had this cold blank stare. He had in his grasp this old looking scroll. When I questioned my father about it, he told me it was nothing but I could tell it was something that scared him.

 

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Draft 2

Children Of Blood And Bone

Ash fell from the heavens. Flames swallowed everything in their path until the night sky was painted in violent streaks of red, orange, and gold. The heat was unbearable like the air itself had turned against us. Smoke filled my lungs with every breath I tried to take, thick and bitter, coating my throat like burned metal. I ran through it all, stumbling over broken stone and fallen bodies, while the screams of women and children tore through the burning silence. Soldiers with our nation’s crest moved through the chaos, their armor shining like death itself as they bound men in chains or struck them down where they stood.

I coughed, my eyes burning, my vision fading at the edges. Everything felt like it was slipping away.

And then I saw her.

My mother.

She stood in the middle of the fire as if it could not touch her. Her long black silk hair flowed down her back, decorated with gold and crystal headpieces that caught the firelight like shattered stars. Her satin red dress moved softly in the wind, too calm for a world falling apart. She looked like a memory and a warning at the same time.

“Mother!” I cried, reaching for her.

But the closer I got, the heavier the air became. The scent of cedar, patchouli, sage, and smoke wrapped around me, filling my lungs until I could barely breathe. The flames roared louder. My legs weakened. My vision blurred.

Her face began to fade.

And then everything went dark.

I woke up gasping.

My body was drenched in sweat, my heart hammering violently against my ribs. That was the tenth night in a row. At this point, it no longer felt like a dream. It felt like a memory I wasn’t supposed to have yet.

“Amari… Princess Amari, wake up!”

Binta’s voice pulled me back into reality. My best friend. My protector. My sister in every way that mattered. She was always there when I came back from the edge of that nightmare.

“You had it again, didn’t you?” she whispered.

I didn’t need to answer. The truth was written all over me shaking hands, wet cheeks, and breath that wouldn’t steady.

Binta sat beside me and gently pressed her forehead against mine. “It’s just a dream,” she said, though her voice sounded like she was trying to convince herself too.

But I knew it wasn’t just a dream.

Especially when it always ended with my mother’s eyes.

Every day in the palace was the same. I was dressed in gold-threaded fabrics I never chose, bathed in waters scented with lavender and rose oil, and fed meals that tasted like nothing because I never truly felt present. The palace was beautiful white marble halls, golden pillars, stained glass windows but it felt like a cage disguised as a gift.

I was not allowed beyond its gates.

The world outside existed only in stories whispered between servants.

My father, the king, ruled everything including me. Even my brother’s steps were watched. Even silence felt controlled here.

And yet, I longed for more.

I wanted to know what the world felt like outside these walls, the taste of street food, the sound of real laughter, the feeling of dirt beneath my feet instead of polished stone.

But something was changing.

I started noticing it in small ways.

Animals behaving strangely. Guards whispering in fear. The wind shifts when it shouldn’t. And then, the king himself my father began to change.

One evening, I found him alone in the war chamber.

That alone was impossible.

He never allowed himself to be alone.

He stood over an ancient table, holding an old scroll in trembling hands. His face usually carved from stone, looked… fractured. His eyes were dark, hollowed out by something I couldn’t see.

“Father?” I asked carefully. “What is that?”

He flinched.

Quickly, he hid it behind him. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

But I saw the fear in his eyes.

Real fear.

That night, the palace did not sleep.

The torches flickered even without wind. The marble halls felt colder than they should have. And somewhere deep within the stone, I began to hear whispers soft voices calling out like they were trapped beneath the surface of the world.

And then I saw him.

A shadow at the end of the corridor.

It stood too still.

Too wrong.

When it stepped closer, I realized it wasn’t a guard.

It was a man burned, hollow-eyed, broken like ash given shape. His mouth moved before I could even breathe.

“Tell him… we remember.”

The torches exploded out.

And darkness swallowed the hall.

When the light returned, the shadow was gone but the scroll my father had been holding earlier now lay outside my chamber door, glowing faintly with red markings that pulsed like a heartbeat.

That was the first sign.

But it wasn’t the last.

Because the next morning, something impossible happened.

A girl arrived at the palace gates.

She looked exactly like me.

Same eyes. Same face. Same voice when she spoke my name.

“Amari…” she said, breathless. “You’re alive.”

Binta stepped in front of me instantly, shaking. “Princess…?”

But I couldn’t speak.

Because I felt it before I understood it.

A pull deep inside my chest. Like something had been missing from me my entire life and was suddenly standing right in front of me.

“My name is Zaria,” she said softly. “And I think… I’m your twin.”

Before I could respond, the ground beneath us trembled.

Not like an earthquake.

Like something waking up.

The air crackled.

And for the first time in sixteen years, something inside her eyes lit up—bright, golden, and alive.

Magic.

Real magic.

It poured out of her like light breaking through cracked glass, swirling around her hands as she gasped in shock.

“I didn’t have this before,” she whispered. “I swear I didn’t”

The palace guards screamed.

Because in that same moment, the king collapsed in the war chamber, clutching his chest.

And the scroll he had hidden burst into flames.

Inside the fire, a voice echoed.

Not human.

Not alive.

But ancient.

“You cannot hide what you buried.”

And far beyond the palace walls… something answered.

The earth cracked open in the distance.

And from the darkness beneath Orïsha, something long forgotten began to rise.

I turned toward my twin.

She was shaking now, trying to control the power she didn’t understand.

But I already knew.

This wasn’t just the return of magic.

This was the beginning of a war.

And as the palace doors slammed shut behind us…

I heard footsteps echoing in the halls again.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Getting closer.

 

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Final Version

Children Of Blood And Bone

Ash fell from the heavens. Flames swallowed everything in their path until the night sky was painted in violent streaks of red, orange, and gold. The heat was unbearable like the air itself had turned against us. Smoke filled my lungs with every breath I tried to take, thick and bitter, coating my throat like burned metal. I ran through it all, stumbling over broken stone and fallen bodies, while the screams of women and children tore through the burning silence. Soldiers with our nation’s crest moved through the chaos, their armor shining like death itself as they bound men in chains or struck them down where they stood.

I coughed, my eyes burning, my vision fading at the edges. Everything felt like it was slipping away.

And then I saw her.

My mother.

She stood in the middle of the fire as if it could not touch her. Her long black silk hair flowed down her back, decorated with gold and crystal headpieces that caught the firelight like shattered stars. Her satin red dress moved softly in the wind, too calm for a world falling apart. She looked like a memory and a warning at the same time.

“Mother!” I cried, reaching for her.

But the closer I got, the heavier the air became. The scent of cedar, patchouli, sage, and smoke wrapped around me, filling my lungs until I could barely breathe. The flames roared louder. My legs weakened. My vision blurred.

Her face began to fade.

And then everything went dark.

I woke up gasping.

My body was drenched in sweat, my heart hammering violently against my ribs. That was the tenth night in a row. At this point, it no longer felt like a dream. It felt like a memory I wasn’t supposed to have yet.

“Amari… Princess Amari, wake up!”

Binta’s voice pulled me back into reality. My best friend. My protector. My sister in every way that mattered. She was always there when I came back from the edge of that nightmare.

“You had it again, didn’t you?” she whispered.

I didn’t need to answer. The truth was written all over me shaking hands, wet cheeks, and breath that wouldn’t steady.

Binta sat beside me and gently pressed her forehead against mine. “It’s just a dream,” she said, though her voice sounded like she was trying to convince herself too.

But I knew it wasn’t just a dream.

Especially when it always ended with my mother’s eyes.

Every day in the palace was the same. I was dressed in gold-threaded fabrics I never chose, bathed in waters scented with lavender and rose oil, and fed meals that tasted like nothing because I never truly felt present. The palace was beautiful white marble halls, golden pillars, stained glass windows but it felt like a cage disguised as a gift.

I was not allowed beyond its gates.

The world outside existed only in stories whispered between servants.

My father, the king, ruled everything including me. Even my brother’s steps were watched. Even silence felt controlled here.

And yet, I longed for more.

I wanted to know what the world felt like outside these walls, the taste of street food, the sound of real laughter, the feeling of dirt beneath my feet instead of polished stone.

But something was changing.

I started noticing it in small ways.

Animals behaving strangely. Guards whispering in fear. The wind shifts when it shouldn’t. And then, the king himself my father began to change.

One evening, I found him alone in the war chamber.

That alone was impossible.

He never allowed himself to be alone.

He stood over an ancient table, holding an old scroll in trembling hands. His face usually carved from stone, looked… fractured. His eyes were dark, hollowed out by something I couldn’t see.

“Father?” I asked carefully. “What is that?”

He flinched.

Quickly, he hid it behind him. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

But I saw the fear in his eyes.

Real fear.

That night, the palace did not sleep.

The torches flickered even without wind. The marble halls felt colder than they should have. And somewhere deep within the stone, I began to hear whispers soft voices calling out like they were trapped beneath the surface of the world.

And then I saw him.

A shadow at the end of the corridor.

It stood too still.

Too wrong.

When it stepped closer, I realized it wasn’t a guard.

It was a man burned, hollow-eyed, broken like ash given shape. His mouth moved before I could even breathe.

“Tell him… we remember.”

The torches exploded out.

And darkness swallowed the hall.

When the light returned, the shadow was gone but the scroll my father had been holding earlier now lay outside my chamber door, glowing faintly with red markings that pulsed like a heartbeat.

That was the first sign.

But it wasn’t the last.

Because the next morning, something impossible happened.

A girl arrived at the palace gates.

She looked exactly like me.

Same eyes. Same face. Same voice when she spoke my name.

“Amari…” she said, breathless. “You’re alive.”

Binta stepped in front of me instantly, shaking. “Princess…?”

But I couldn’t speak.

Because I felt it before I understood it.

A pull deep inside my chest. Like something had been missing from me my entire life and was suddenly standing right in front of me.

“My name is Zaria,” she said softly. “And I think… I’m your twin.”

Before I could respond, the ground beneath us trembled.

Not like an earthquake.

Like something waking up.

The air crackled.

And for the first time in sixteen years, something inside her eyes lit up—bright, golden, and alive.

Magic.

Real magic.

It poured out of her like light breaking through cracked glass, swirling around her hands as she gasped in shock.

“I didn’t have this before,” she whispered. “I swear I didn’t”

The palace guards screamed.

Because in that same moment, the king collapsed in the war chamber, clutching his chest.

And the scroll he had hidden burst into flames.

Inside the fire, a voice echoed.

Not human.

Not alive.

But ancient.

“You cannot hide what you buried.”

And far beyond the palace walls… something answered.

The earth cracked open in the distance.

And from the darkness beneath Orïsha, something long forgotten began to rise.

I turned toward my twin.

She was shaking now, trying to control the power she didn’t understand.

But I already knew.

This wasn’t just the return of magic.

This was the beginning of a war.

And as the palace doors slammed shut behind us…

I heard footsteps echoing in the halls again.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Getting closer.

Bulleted Summary:

• I added more detailed descriptions in the middle of the story, including stronger sensory imagery like sight, sound, smell, and touch to make the scenes feel more real and immersive.
• I developed new plot elements, including the king being haunted by those he killed, strange magical occurrences in the kingdom, and the arrival of my long-lost twin whose powers begin to awaken.
• I strengthened the storyline by building up events that lead toward the main conflict, adding a dramatic turning point, and ending the story on a cliffhanger to create suspense and hint at what happens next.