Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 2 -1 2019 | Page 71

The Dragon in the Mist
Creative Primary School, Tse, Zhena - 11
Everyone knows that Zheng He went on seven marvelous voyages to different countries, and went down in
history, but then he also went on his eighth journey. Unfortunately, the details of his last trip were lost in
the storm. This is the story of his last adventure.
“I command you to go on another epic journey, and return with the most powerful ally,” said the Emperor.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” replied Zheng He. “I will do my best.”
The next day, Zheng He gathered his crew and sailed away in hopes of fulfilling His Majesty’s wishes. They
sailed for days without finding land, and at last they found a tall tower in the mist in the distance. “Land
Ho!” shouted the crew with joy, “We’ve found land!” “Wait, you guys, this island is weird, it isn’t even
marked on the map,” said Zheng He, but his crew was already docking the boat and lowering the anchor.
“Hey! I’m Captain around here, listen to me!” No one heard him……so with a sigh, Zheng He went to
join his crew.
The tall tower was indeed horrific. Made from volcanic stone, it loomed above, casting fear over them.
Suddenly, a roar came from the other side of the island. The sailors walked around the island, finally
reaching the source of the sound. What they saw was astounding, a milky blue dragon laid there, bound in
chains. It rumbled melancholy, tears falling from its turquoise eyes. Zheng He approached cautiously,
“Honorable Dragon, where are we?” he asked. “You are at the entrance of the tower of the evil Mist Lord,
but he has gone on vacation,” replied the dragon. “Who are you? How can we free you?” asked a sailor.
“I am Cloud, from the tribe of the legendary Dragons of Dreams. As for freeing me, you must climb to the
tenth floor of the tower and find the Mystic Sword, which can cut my chains,” said it. “Just climbing
towers? That’s too easy!” whispered another sailor. “Ah, that’s not all. The first nine floors are full of
strange traps, in which only the tenth is safe. They launch when you’re near them, but the problem is that
you can’t avoid them, because they’re automatic. Everything is automatic here,” sighed the Dragon. “You
guys gotta endure it if you go inside,” murmured the Dragon, and went to sleep, or, at least he tried to.
“Let’s do this!” cheered the adventurers. “Shhhh! I’m taking a nap!” said the Dragon.
As they reached the tower, the giant metal doors swung open, creaking at the hinges. They shuddered at the
thought of being skewered into sailor-kebabs. An overhead parrot squawked, “Up the stairs, up the stairs.”
So they slowly went up the stairs, not even sure what dangers they were looking for. A bell rung, and the
stairways fell apart, piece by piece, showing electric eels underneath. “Run for your lives!” A bunch of
crazed-looking sailors shouted, “Run, run, run!” They really could have broken every speed record in the
world if someone was actually counting. More horrors awaited them in the following floors. Ten huge
rattlesnakes slithered on the second floor, rattles in the air, threatening to swallow them. The fourth floor’s
ground was covered in every corner slimy, stinky sardines, it was dangerous just to let a bit of the air into
your lungs, its stench will kill you. Onto the sixth floor. You just might think that there’s some kind of
horror waiting for poor Zheng He and his sailors. It’ll repeat for the following floors. But strangely,
nothing special happened on the sixth, seventh and eighth floor…… until the ninth. As the troop of
adventurers ascended the stairs to the ninth floor, a wooden door bared their way. Clanging sounds seemed
to be coming from the other side. Zheng He bravely opened a finger’s width of the door, only allowing
himself to peek inside. A moment later, something sleek and sharp in there poked him under his armpits, the
place just above his hips. He yelped and shut the door, accidentally slamming it into his face, and he yelped
again. So he calmed down, regained his composure and flung the door wide open. A flurry of frenzy was
what they saw. But a moment later, hundreds of automated flying swords with glistening blades were
pointed at their hearts. One flew forward and dumped a piece of paper in Zheng He’s hands. ‘A Moment
Later Swords, by Sword Company. A hundred yuan each. Please come buy!’ “What in the world?!”
exclaimed Zheng He. “This isn’t the time for advertising, man! I already have my own sword!” As soon as
he said it he regretted it. A piece of paper appeared next to the swords, and they swarmed around it, after
they scattered, it was still intact. A moment later, it burst into smithereens, demonstrating their power. A
sword came and pointed its blade at the pouch of coins at Zheng he’s side. Finally, Zheng He unwillingly
gave up his money just to buy another weapon, but just as he wanted to walk away, the swords gestured to
the crew. So they lost another hundred dollars to those stubborn swords.