I need to stop being lazy and proofread my stories. Lol They’d probably suck a lot less.
Sci Fi & Fantasy / Prompt 1
Throughout the museum and the surrounding area the streets were in chaos. Traffic was halted and every person and carriage was inspected thoroughly. Anyone of suspicious nature was arrested immediately, with trial to follow at a later date. Anyone with with information on the whereabouts of the stolen chalice were promise great rewards. The item, of most precious value, was the treasure of not only the museum, but the entire kingdom. For the longest time it had been kept in the royal vault, but just earlier that week the curator of the museum was allowed this single showing, and now with it's disappearance the man feared execution. The dark clouds above suited this predicament. It was dim, dreary weather.
With the crowds of people who had come to see the artifact, finding the thief had proven difficult. The guards were forced to shove their way through, pushing aside even a woman with child. The robed figure held the child closely. Her face, nor the face of her child, could be seen. Calmly, she walked through the crowd, slipping casually between the people. She cooed as she walked, keeping the child calm, despite all of the commotion.
As if she were invisible, no one approached her -- no one questioned or inspected her. She was allowed to wander as she saw fit, and she walked the cobblestone streets until she came to a church. While this was one of the larger churches of the city, it was mostly empty thanks to the exhibition. Organ music played softly from the very back.
A few people sat praying in their seats, others simply pondered to themselves as they enjoyed the stained glass windows that depicted the many gods of the Grestian faith, including Lorn, King of Gods, sitting on his throne with a crown of briars and feathers atop his head. This church was very old, old enough to have a single black pane. Long ago another god filled that pane. Now, he is no longer spoken of. He was marked as a misinterpretation of man, and removed from the church.
She made her way down the aisle and to the priest at the end. He smiled upon her and offered a blessing to her and her child.
"May I lie my child in the holy waters, to cleanse him of the troubles of this world?" She did not lower her hood as she spoke.
The elderly man, clad in white and gold, nodded slowly and stepped aside. "Shall I recite the oath?"
"There's no need, Father. Thank you."
He cocked his head, but submitted to her desire. He simply watched as she stepped forward and submerged the silent child in the water, still wrapped in the dark blanket that kept it warm. As she pulled the child out, now holding him upright by his sides, the fabric clung to it's form and revealed an inhumanly figure. His smile faded. "It is abnormal for a child to neither cry nor laugh. Shall I have a look at him?"
"No, thank you, Father," she replied quietly before she turned and left him, leaving a trail of water behind her. Quickly now, she made her way down the streets. The soaked fabric that cloaked the chalice clung to it's form and she held it upright so it wouldn't spill. She received a few looks, and already the guards were searching about for this suspicious figure.
She was headed towards Ahlenguard, an old, abandoned tower that was no longer used for anything. If it weren't for it's historic value, it would have been town down already. Quickly, she made her way up the steps as the storm clouds began to let out a soft rain. As she ascended, the soft pitter-patter and hiss of rain turned became louder and were joibed with howling winds and quaking thunder. Lightning pierced the sky and flashed through the windows of the tower. Even the strong voices of the guards below couldn't reach her.
At the very top of the tower, she stopped. The rain soaked her in an instant and the wind pulled at her robes and clawed at the cloth that curled around the chalice she clung so dearly to. It almost felt as though the wind was fighting her for it. Around her, she could see the elder churches. Their black panes faced her, surrounded her. Slowly, cautiously, she stepped onto the very edge of the roof. A strong gust blew the hood from her face and her dark hair slapped her bare skin harshly. It was a long way down, so she dared not let her gaze fall.
She reached beneath the fabric and gripped the stem of the sacred chalice tightly before she allowed the wind to reveal it. The dark cloth twisted and danced as it fell to the ground. The chalice, as white as the purest snow and as strong as dragon's scales was presented to the dark heavens. "Here have you now," she called above the storm, "that which represents the sanctity of Lorn's children and the peace and justice of our kingdom! This... lie! This broken artifact that fell from the heavens when Gran fell from grace! There fell the sanctity of Lorn's fourth child and with it the peace and justice of this land!" She poured the now black water out into the sky below. "Look now, at how we're cursed! These lands are now where holy things are made dark, and our kings kiss this dirty thing! For what do the gods curse us!?"
"There is no justice in the heavens and no peace in the lands they govern! Hail Gran! Hail now the Lord of Darkness and Master of the Monsterkind, who was betrayed by his brethren and father and cast into the darkness so that his flesh may become the feast of demons! Hail the innocent Gran, punished for a crime not his own! Lets His curse be extended to the heavens so that they may feel his wrath! Let Lorn's briars fall to his neck!"
He protest continued for just a moment longer before the sound of footsteps drew her attention away from the sky, and she turned. The guards had caught up to her, and pointed their blades in her direction. All she could do was smile at them kindly through the rain.
"You are under arrest, for both the thievery of the King's sacred chalice and this blasphemy against Lorn and his children! Seize her!"
As his men bolted forward to snatch the woman away, she threw herself backwards off of the side of the tower. The fall killed her, and the once-mighty chalice shattered upon impact, made fragile by the curse.
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Hoffmane21 reviewed Version 1 -
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slbynum3 reviewed Version 1 -
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Not bad if this is just for practice. This was written very nicely. I like how it started suspenseful with the woman and how you made the reader think she was carrying a baby when in fact she was hiding the stolen chalice.
In the beginning, you start from the narrator’s point-of-view and even go inside the curator’s head when you say he feared execution. Perhaps you should just start in the POV of the robed woman.
You have some excellent imagery. I especially liked this line: “The rain soaked her in an instant and the wind pulled at her robes and clawed at the cloth that curled around the chalice she clung so dearly to. It almost felt as though the wind was fighting her for it.”
The ending wasn’t too much of a surprise, but it did leave me wondering what happens next. Is something going to happen because the chalice is broken?
I like this. You could continue it with a brilliant story to go with this beginning.
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Megan_Solari reviewed Version 1 -
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“…with trial to…” with a trial to -or- with their trials to
“…were promise great…” promised
“…treasure of not…” treasure comma: Remove of, it breaks the flow.
“…now with it’s…” its: Its is possessive, it’s is “it is”.
The whole sentence that the error above belongs to feels a bit rambling. I would split it into two sentences so you can establish that it’s the curator that fears execution. Your mentioning of the curator and the chance of execution are far enough apart it’s easy to forget who you were talking about.
“…suited this predicament.” his predicament: You mentioned a character! Stay with him! Don’t bring the curator into the story and then dump him for objective scene painting again.
“Organ music played softly from the very back.” As far as I’m aware, your character isn’t inside the church yet, meaning the reader isn’t either. It would suffice to say that the organ playing was coming from inside the church. If the building is as large as you make it out to be, it would be hard to tell where it was coming from exactly, anyway.
“…in their seats,...” Just for future reference, the seating in churches, the big benches, are called “pews”.
“…pondered to themselves…” pondered doesn’t really fit here, but I can’t really tell what you inteded to say here, so I can’t suggest a better word.
“ ’”May I lie my…’ ” lay, rather than lie. Lay is a transitive verb, or a verb that acts on a direct object whereas lie is an intransitive verb, so it can’t act on a direct object. You literally cannot lie something down.
“…for it’s historic…” again, its.
“…been town down…” torn rather than town
“…turned became louder…” Drop turned here.
“…joibed with howling…” joined; misspelling
“The dark cloth twisted and danced as it fell to the ground.” I imagine, even wet, with the wind as harsh as you’re describing it, the cloth would still be blown off the tower.
“He protest continued…” her rather than he
I didn’t make you do anything, nerd haha. Anyway, this was very good, if kind of clumsily written. You seem to find your stride after you’ve been writing for a while, as I found a vast majority of your typos in the first few minutes of reading. Other than that, I like the nice twist you took on this, I wasn’t expecting it. It actually seems like an interesting basis for a longer piece, if you want something else to work on. Very good.
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