Author's note: So, this is a short story I had to write for an assignment in English class in my freshman year of high school. After it sat forgotten on my flash-drive for almost 3 years, I recently rediscovered it and realized it's actually pretty decent, despite how far back it dates in my writing career. With minimal editing, here it is, for better or worse. So, I hope you enjoy it, and if you do, please let me know in the comments! Here it goes:

Once upon a time, there was a certain king that was trying to expand the riches of his kingdom. His father had wasted the kingdom's riches on his pursuits of pleasure, and now, his son had to work to regain what had been lost. After many days and nights of pondering how he could accomplish this thing, he came up with a solution. Their neighbors in the Yushatan kingdom placed a high value on a certain root called hesparia, which was rare in their country. It was common enough in this king's country, however, so he decided to send a team of men into the forest to dig it up and bring it to him so he could sell it.

Only five people were going on this week-long expedition. The first was a young man named John Richardson, who was a farmer's son. The king thought that a farmer's skills would be valuable on this expedition. The second was another young man named Eric Trenton. Eric had formerly been in the military, and so the king thought that his physical strength would be of much use to them. The other three were a taskmaster, the king's chronicler, and a messenger. John and Eric were going to be the ones doing the work, while the others were there to supervise them.

It only took the five men one day to get to the forest, and when they got there, they were amazed at how much greenery there was. The smell of the place was something they couldn't have ever imagined back at home. And the sounds of the different animals made one laugh and smile one moment, only to shiver in fear the next moment. It was late in the afternoon when they arrived, so the taskmaster thought it best that they sleep in their cabin for the night, and start working the next day.

In the morning of the first day, the five men got up and ate breakfast. When that was finished, the taskmaster gave John and Eric each a bucket, telling them to fill it with hesparia roots. He also gave each of them a shovel so they could dig for it. They each went their separate ways to gather the roots. At the end of the long day, when they brought their buckets of bright red hesparia roots back, the taskmaster smiled. They had both filled their buckets to the brim.

The next day, John and Eric went their separate ways again. The two men didn't get along very well, so they wanted to be separate from each other. Eric looked down on John, because he saw him as a weakling, and John was a bit irritated by Eric's arrogant boasting.

As John walked down the way, he saw an area ahead of him where there were many bumps in the ground. That was a sign that it was a ground rich in hesparia. For a moment, he considered inviting Eric over to help him, but decided against it, since he didn't know which way he'd gone. Unfortunately, there were thorn branches in his way, and he had to go under the arch they created. At first, the arch was big enough that he didn't scrape himself, but it narrowed, and he scraped his arms several times near the end. But finally, he'd successfully gone through the thorn tunnel. When he was on the other side, he put his bucket and shovel down, sat down on a log and started pulling the sharp thorns out of his skin.

Only about five had actually stuck in him; the others had only scraped him. But as he was pulling the last one out, he went deep into thought, and before long, he was daydreaming. Now, you may ask, "What was he daydreaming about?" and I'll tell you. He was daydreaming about one of the princesses he had met in the king's castle. Her name was Allison, and she was pretty as can be, with her pretty brown hair and green eyes. Not only that, she was a sweet girl, always ready to say a kind word or two. While John daydreamed about her, lunchtime grew closer and closer. When the taskmaster rung the lunch bell, he'd have to get up and go over to the cabin for lunch. Unfortunately, he only stopped daydreaming about five minutes before the bell rang. Realizing how close it was, he rushed to dig into the ground. He got a couple hesparia roots, and then the lunch bell rang. Carefully but quickly, he went back through the thorn tunnel to join his companions at lunch.

When he arrived, the taskmaster frowned at the measly two hesparia roots in his bucket, compared to Eric, who had half a bucket already. John apologized, but the taskmaster wasn't the kind of man who accepted apologies too easily. After lunch had been eaten, John went back to collect more. As he worked, his thoughts drifted to Alice again, and even though he didn't stop working, he slowed down, losing time. Suddenly, he jerked himself out of his thoughts again, and looked up at the sky, only to see dark, threatening thunder clouds, and then, it started to rain. He had to run back to the cabin with only seven hesparia roots in his bucket, while Eric had filled his bucket already.

John stood in front of the cabin door, dreading opening it. He knew that the taskmaster wasn't one to show mercy, and he hadn't met his daily quota. But at the same time, he had to get out of the rain, and so he opened the door to go inside. Surprisingly, the taskmaster didn't say anything as he walked past him. But of course, just as John had taken his shoes off and crawled into his sleeping bag, then the taskmaster called him into his quarters.
When John closed the door, the taskmaster began in his deep, commanding voice. "So, I see your bucket." he said, "and I see that you've only collected seven roots."

"Yes sir, I-" John began apologetically, but he was interrupted.
"Were you not told that you were to fill at least one bucket with roots each day of our expedition?"

"Yes sir, but-"

"Then why did you not do so?" the taskmaster asked coldly.

What would he say? Would he come right out and say that he'd been daydreaming? After a pause, John said "Sir, I'm sorry. I got distracted while I worked, and I've fallen short in my work. I promise to make up for it tomorrow."

The taskmaster's face didn't change. "I accept your apology, but I still must do my duty. You will receive five whips for failing to fill your quota."

Moments later, John cried out in excruciating pain as the unmerciful whip hit his back.

The next morning, as Eric and John were setting out to collect more roots, Eric pulled him aside with a mischievous smile on his face.
"So," said Eric, "I heard you screamin' last night. I guess ya didn't quite make your quota, huh?"

John sighed and said "Yeah, I failed yesterday."

Eric laughed again. "Ha! Why'd ya fail?"

"I guess I didn't work fast enough." John responded. "You know how hard it is to pull those resistant roots out of the ground."

"Ah, it isn't nothin' for me. It only takes one stab into the ground with the shovel, a well-calculated yank or two, and it's done." But then Eric pretended he had just remembered something. "Oh, that's it!" he said. "You're a weaklin'; I forgot all 'bout that! That changes everything!"

"I'm not a weakling." John said, defending himself. "I'm just not as strong as you, perhaps."

"Well, if you ain't weak, then why'd you fail to meet your quota?"

"I got distracted, that's all."

"Distracted? Distracted by what?"

"I'm not gonna tell you."

"Oh, really? Ha! I guess you are a weaklin', just mentally, perhaps."

"I already told you, I'm not weak. I don't have to tell you my thoughts if I don't feel like it."

"Hm, I'll bet you got distracted alright." Eric said sarcastically. "I'll bet you didn't meet your quota 'cause you farmers are so weak. Can't pull strong enough to get them all up. If it's not as weak as a tulip, then you can't pull it up. I'll bet that's it. Ha!"

Eric walked away laughing, and John walked away shaking his head.

That day, John worked very hard, filling two buckets full of roots, to make up for his failure the day before. He would have filled a third, but the sun went down all too quickly, and so he had to go back the cabin, with its refreshing woodsy smell. The day after that, he worked just as hard, and when he came to the cabin that evening, all sweaty and tired, he was surprised to find that Eric wasn't home yet. Nobody knew where he was. Nobody could get any sleep because they were worrying about him. Finally, at about midnight, he came in, looking tired and sore. He didn't have his bucket with him. The taskmaster asked him what had happened, and it turned out that he'd got into a fight with one of the natives, and he'd been hurt pretty badly.

The next morning, he was given the option to opt out of working that day, but he pridefully said he was tough, and he could take it. "Pain isn't nothin' for me." he said arrogantly. As usual, Eric went his way, and John went his way. Near the end of the day, John had filled his bucket for the third time, having dug up a whole bunch of hesparia roots. He was pretty tired, and rightfully so. He was just turning around to go back to the cabin, when Eric came running up to him.

"Hey, John!" he cried as he got closer.

"What is it, Eric?" he asked.

"Listen buddy, I'm in need of your help." said Eric when he'd reached him.

"What do you mean?" John asked, confused.

"Buddy, look down in there." Eric said, showing him his bucket, which only had three roots in it.

John frowned. "What happened?"

Eric, pointing at his arm, said "My arms. They're just too darn tired to do much of anything."

"Well, you should go and tell the taskmaster that your arms are giving you trouble."

"That's the problem. This morning, I told him I was willin' and able to do the thing. I guess my big mouth got me into trouble. The only hope for me now is if you'd graciously give me a couple of your roots. Please?"

Eric was standing in front of John with one of the best begging looks anybody could muster. But still, John had to make a decision. Here was Eric, the one who had been insulting him the whole time they'd been on this expedition, and now he needed his help. Would he give him some roots, or would he let him be whipped by that unmerciful taskmaster? On the one hand, he saw a perfect opportunity to avenge himself on his enemy. But on the other, he saw an opportunity to do good for one of his fellow men. What would he do?

After a moment's hesitation, John poured out most of his roots into Eric's bucket. Eric's eyes instantly brightened, and he showered him with thanks. John humbly accepted his gratitude, and the two men walked home together. Over the remaining days of the expedition, John gave Eric some of his roots when he came up short. On the last day, they were walking home together again, exhausted, but glad to know that they were going home the next morning. As they laid down in their sleeping bags, they heard the king's chronicler and the taskmaster talking in the taskmaster's quarters. As they listened, they heard that the king was planning to reward the one of them who had collected more roots. John and Eric looked at each other, and they both began to wonder who would get the reward, and what would the reward be, anyway?

When they returned home, the king looked over the two piles, and it was clear to all that John had collected far more than Eric, despite the fact that he had donated so much to Eric. John's award was that he was appointed to be the king's gardener, and he got to pick another person to be his partner. John knew that Eric had learned his lesson about being boastful and arrogant, and they'd become friends by now, so he appointed Eric to be his partner. In time, Princess Allison came to be impressed with John's work, and with his good, gentle ways, and so she became his wife. John's hard work and good attitude really paid off. 

THE END.

A/N: So, what do you think? If you were my English teacher, what would my grade be?

Anyway, thanks for reading, and if you enjoyed this, feel free to check out my more recent stories. Have a great day!

-Flamesword01