Sci Fi & Fantasy / Chapter 4
As he steps through the door and into the small house, Connor looks around, scanning the dark front room for the old woman. Looking ahead to the table at the back of the room where he normally sees her sitting, Connor squints his eyes trying to make out anything there, but sees nothing. Moving ahead a few steps he looks around the familiar room, letting his eyes adjust to the darker interior. To his left and pushed in a corner, is the large ceiling high bookcase stacked full of books that he has never read, but always had an interest in. As with most peoples visit’s to Shila, his were short and supplied no time for idle conversation with the woman or her books.
Next to the bookcase were shelves full of containers; different sized jugs and corked gourds arranged messily on each shelf. Most were in no order that Connor could tell, definently not by size and since he had seen them before it was not by color either. It could possibly have been by contents but he was not about to go snooping around in things he knew nothing of. He just assumed they were filled with things Shila used for her potions, different plants and roots and whatnot since she would need all sorts of different things for the sicknesses that ailed some people. On the wall opposite was the fireplace and past it the door to the bedroom. The fireplace was filled with softly glowing coals and the cauldron sitting above, was simmering with something that smelled delicious. Not having eaten since the evening before when he was helping dig the graves, Connor feels more then hears his stomach begin to growl. Starting in the direction of the delicious smell, Connor hears a soft click and whirls around expecting to see someone in the doorway again, but just sees the closed door. Only the door shutting itself he thinks as he breathes a sigh of relief then frowns as the strange idea hits him.
Shaking his head Connor turns back to the smell again, but freezes as he sees a small shape has filled the back doorway. Slightly shifting his weight so he can run if he has to, he watches as the shape takes a step forward into the room. As it does this, the slowly dying embers in the fireplace jump to life, casting light into the dark room. Connor slowly lets his breath out seeing that it is just Shila, thinking to himself that he is getting paranoid but then remembers he has good reason.
“Strange time for a visit, isn’t it young one,” the old woman says moving towards the fireplace to stir whatever was in the large pot.
Knowing it is early morning, Connor answers her carefully. He doesn’t want to upset her in any way ultimately causing her to throw him out, even if she did seem to enjoy his visits.
“Yes, it is. I’m sorry for such an early intrusion. I wouldn’t have come if it weren’t important though.”
Watching him thoughtfully, Shila continues to stir the pot. “Nonsense. You have no need to fear the early hour. I don’t need much sleep and besides I was expecting someone, so I thought I’d make something for my guest. Been out all night have you?”
Not knowing if she was talking about him or not, Connor shifts his weight to stretch a little as the long night starts taking its toll on him. “Actually yes, I have. How did you know?” Connor wonders aloud.
Shila reaches up and grabs a long handled spoon hanging on a peg on the front of the fireplace, then scoops up a little of what’s in the cauldron and tastes it, nodding her satisfaction.
“You don’t look like you’ve gotten much sleep, and your clothes also speak of it. Come, sit, rest your feet. I’m sure they could use it. Let’s get you some stew to eat as well.” Shila walks over to the table and grabs a bowl, then goes back and starts dishing the thick stew into it, the large flames dying back down to warm embers as she does it.
Connor starts to the table, suddenly feeling very tired. Looking down at his clothes he sees how dirty they are. Sweat stains from the hard night of evading his pursuers and dirt smeared down his shirt from the grave digging show. A little embarrassed from showing up in such a sorry state, Connor sits on the bench by the table and starts to run a hand down his clothes to get some of the filth off. Stopping just as soon as he started, he shakes his head a little and silently scolds himself. Here he is showing up at all hours of the night and about to dirty a clean house with his filthy clothes.
Shila shuffles over to the table and places the bowl on it, not quite in front of Connor. “Still a little to hot. You must wait a few moments. I want to add one more thing as well.” Connor looks from Shila down to the bowl, his stomach now growling loudly with need.
The old woman turns and heads to the fully loaded shelves, picking up containers then placing them back down, not finding what she wants. Muttering to herself she sinks down a level and resumes searching. Connor watches silently, only wanting to gobble down the delicious smelling food sitting on the table. Picking up a small white corked bottle, Shila holds it up to the light of some candles sitting in the middle of the table that have become lit at some point, and looks at it.
“Looking for a label?” Connor asks breaking the silence.
Shila, still looking at the container answers in an almost irritated sounding voice. “No.” She then proceeds to the table and sits in the chair on the end. As she uncorks the jug and tips it over slightly, a small stream of liquid pours out into the bowl. Connor watches, his curiosity growing.
“What is that?” he asks as she replaces the stopper then takes a spoon that is sitting on the table and stirs the stew.
“Just something to take the weariness from your bones, and to help you sleep.” Finishing her stirring, Shila pushes the bowl over to Connor and sits back to watch. “Be careful, it is still a bit hot.”
Connor pulls the bowl the rest of the way over and grabs the spoon. He gets a good spoonful and raises it to blow on it. Putting it in his mouth, he finds it is exactly the right temperature and sighs with how good it tastes. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he says dishing more into his mouth, quickly chewing then swallowing so he can eat more. Shila leans back in her chair smiling.
“I’m glad you like it. There’s lots more so eat up.” She watches as Connor hastily finishes the bowl then looks up with a questioning look and small smile. Shila gets up and dishes out more stew, then places it back in front of Connor who greedily starts into the second bowl. Walking over to a small table Connor didn’t notice, Shila grabs something and turns around, putting a small plate next to Connor’s bowl.
Glancing to it, he sees a couple slices of bread with cheese on them that has melted a bit being so close to the fire. With a big grin Connor grabs one in his hand and takes a big bite, pulling the slice of bread away from his mouth since the cheese is a bit gooey and sticks to the bread.
“I’ve had cheese on bread before but never like this. How did you think this up?” Connor asks about the cheesy gooey goodness in his hand.
“I didn’t really think it up. Just a little accident that happened. You like it I see,” Shila says still watching him.
“It’s delicious. I’m going to have to show this to my mum when I get home.” At the sudden memory of his mother and the rest of his family, worry creeps back into Connor and he eats the rest of his stew in silence. He pushes the small piece of bread over the almost empty bowl cleaning it out. Running his shirt sleeve over his mouth, Connor pushes the bowl away and breathes relief with finally filling the void in his stomach.
“Have you had enough?”
“Yes, thank you. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday and that hit the spot.”
Shila nods her head of grey hair, glad that her visitor enjoyed her cooking so much.
“I know you must be tired but if you wouldn’t mind telling me why you were out all night, I would like to hear it.”
Remembering why he was there in the first place, Connor quickly goes over the night in his head trying to find a good place to start and not include Zain in the story. Still being unsure why the cat hadn’t wanted Connor to mention him, he takes a deep breath then begins.
Starting with what him and his father had found on the road the morning before and what had happened at the village, he carefully weaves the tale out, but skips the part at the training grounds, instead jumping ahead to him digging graves then walking home. He tells her how he had tripped on something on the ground and when he gotten up, he had seen some men at his house. He had decided to wait and watch instead of walking out and finding what they were there for. Then he recalls how his father had gotten into a fight and when he had risen to go help him, there was that earsplitting roar that had alerted the soldiers of his whereabouts and how they had chased after him after his father yelled at him to run. About to start into the rest of the night, Shila nods and holds up her hand to stop him.
“So you think there are soldiers after you? That’s why you have been running all night?”
Connor nods. “Yeah. Zain said…...,” suddenly realizing what he had just said, Connor clamps his mouth shut.
“Yes, Zain? Who is Zain and what did he say?” Shila asks wondering why he had cut himself off so suddenly.
Trying to think quickly to answer her, Connor forms the best lie he could. “Just one of my friends. He said there might be some trouble with having two deaths around the same village in the same day.” Hoping she believes him, Connor stares at the fireplace, watching her from the corner of his eye.
“Strange,” she says. “I’ve never heard of him before.”
Watching the coals Connor answers without looking up, trying to sound as believable as he could. “Oh? You haven’t? I guess that family doesn’t get sick much.” He glances over to her, seeing that she seems to be studying him. Finally the old woman dismisses it and gets up.
“Follow me. Let’s get you cleaned up and rested.” Connor stands to follow her.
“You don’t want to hear the rest?”
“There’s no need,” she answers walking to the back door. “I’ve heard what I needed to know.”
Connor follows her through the door, entering the bedroom but she doesn’t stop there. He sees there is another doorway at the back of the room where Shila looks to be heading. He glances around the room they are in as they pass through it.
Her bed is in the middle of the room with the headboard against the back wall. Beside that there is a small table in the corner with a lit candle atop it and a closed book beside that, with a small window in the middle of the wall. At the foot of the bed, a small chest sits locked and across from it against the wall is a washtub. In the corner past the end of the bed is a plain wooden wardrobe. Nothing fancy for an old woman I guess he thinks. As they pass into the next room, Connor sees the exact same setup minus the book on the bedside table and no chest.
“This is where you can rest,” Shila says turning around in the room. “You will want to clean up as well so I put some water in the washtub for you. It should be cool enough now to use. I am going to go have a look around and make sure you weren’t followed. Clean up and get some sleep, I’ll be back in a while.”
With that Shila walks past Connor, right through both rooms and straight out the front door. Connor watches the door a few moments then sits on the edge of the tub, putting a finger in the water to test it. The water isn’t to hot but nice and warm. Feeling this, Connor strips off his clothes and slides in enjoying the feeling of clean water on his dirty body. Leaning back with his eyes closed, he finally starts relaxing after the dreadful night he just went through. After what seems like a few minutes, Connor opens his eyes and notices the water has cooled some. Must have fallen asleep he thinks, then listens to see if Shila has returned. Not hearing anything, Connor grabs a cake of soap that is sitting on a flattened section of the tub and washes all the sweat, dirt and grim from his body. Standing up and stepping out of the tub, he grabs the towel that is on the end of the bed, dries off, then climbs wearily between the sheets of the bed, blows out the candle and falls asleep.
-—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—-
Stirring, Connor opens his eyes to the pitch blackness of night. He listens a moment, trying to hear that voice he thought he heard speaking his name. Rubbing his eyes, he looks in the direction of the doorway but sees no one. A little confused he looks around the dark room, almost knowing for sure he heard the voice. Not seeing anything, Connor shakes his head then immediately drops to the pillow as dizziness strikes him hard. Staring at the ceiling as it seems to spin for a moment then slows and stops, he wonders if perhaps he dreamed the voice. Some of his recent dreams had seemed so real it scared him and he woke in a cold sweat gasping for air.
Then the events of the past night sneak back into his thoughts and he wonders if the whole thing was just a bad dream. Slowly raising his head to look around again, he recognizes the room in Shila’s house. Letting out a disappointed breath, he flops back down.
“Guess it wasn’t a dream,” he says to himself. Better go see if she’s returned yet, he thinks and sits up. Grimacing as he thinks of putting his dirty clothes back on, Connor looks to the end of the bed and sees his clothes, neatly folded and looking clean. Leaning forward he grabs them and looks them over. She even fixed the small hole in the underarm he sees upon checking out the worn out spot. Listening once again to see if Shila has returned, he only hears the crackling of the fire in the front room. Slipping his shirt and pants on, he quickly tidies up the bed then heads up through the old woman’s room and into the front room expecting to find her there.
Entering the room he speaks up in a cheery voice, “Good Morn…...,” but stops finding it empty. Guess she’s still out, he thinks to himself but is then overcome with a sense of worry. What if someone did follow him and she ran into whoever it was. She could have gotten hurt or worse. Then remembering his clean mended clothes, Connor puts the idea out of his head.
She would had to have come back to fix his clothes. And if anyone did run into her, soldier or not, it would have been trouble for them. Walking to the door, Connor opens it a small bit to peak out, not expecting to see anything, but more for finding out when during the night or possibly day it is. The fog still surrounds the squat house but the day is brighter than when he arrived.
Looking up he can somehow see a little through the thick fog to the sky. He sees the outline of a circular shape, but isn’t sure if it is the sun or moon. Either way it would be evening soon, if it wasn’t already, because of where the shape lay in the sky. Closing the door, Connor goes to warm his hands by the fire.
The house already has a good warmth to it, not to hot but nice and cozy. After warming his hands, Connor turns and goes to sit on the bench at the table. Just as soon as he sits he stands himself back up and goes over to the bookshelf.
With some time to waste until Shila gets back I may as well do something, he thinks looking over the many books on the shelves. Tilting his head sideways to see the titles on the binding, Connor moves over one full shelf of books, not able to read a title. The books are all old and either have nothing written on the sides or are to worn to make anything out. Looking over the rest of the shelves he sees the same thing. So with a shrug he grabs a book at eye level and sits down at the table, cracking open the cover.
He flips past the first page as it is blank, but as he continues to turn pages, the words that are written there, disappear as soon as he turns each page over. Confused, Connor closes it and stands it up on the binding with the front open and with his thumb, lets the pages fall open. He can see the words are there but disappear as the pages fall open, then reappear as they are covered up. Getting to the end of the book, Connor closes the back cover and goes to put it back on the shelf.
“Just my luck. The first book I pick is unreadable.”
Replacing the book, he moves down a shelf and grabs another, returning to the table with it. Opening his newest selection, Connor sees long intricate pen strokes in the middle of the page. Flipping to what looks like where the book starts, he sees the same kind of strokes only much smaller and running in the fashion of a normal book. Turning more pages he sees more of the same, then closes it and lets out a laugh.
“What kind of luck. One book I can’t read and another I don’t understand.”
Becoming annoyed at his bad luck, he goes to push the book back into the spot he took it from, but it doesn’t slide in. Trying to spread the books on the opposite sides to get his back in, Connor pushes harder and wiggles it around. Being unsuccessful with this, he slides one of the other books out a little to try to slide both in at the same time but mistakes where the ledge is and it falls to the floor. Maybe that one will go in easier he thinks as he replaces the first book in the now large spot and leans down to pick up the fallen book. Glancing at it he sees readable words.
“Finally,” he says and goes to sit at the table once more.
Setting the book on the table, Connor sits and looks at the front cover, reading what it says. “(Book name)”
“A history book is it? Sounds interesting. History of what though?” Flipping through the first few pages, Connor simply scans quickly over sentences here and there trying to get some information on the time line of the book and looking for any interesting parts. Continuing to turn pages, he comes across a page that has a symbol covering the whole of it. (symbol). Looking to the opposite page he reads the small passage written in the middle. (Passage). Glancing at the symbol once more, Connor starts flipping through the book again.
The next bunch of pages only talk about (?) and Connor gets bored so he starts flipping over more pages. About halfway through he comes across another picture. This one depicts a huge battle scene covering both pages. The two pages are filled with men in armor brandishing weapons. On one of the pages there is a man in the middle of the battle standing alone, as alone as one can be with that many people around him. As Connor looks at the picture, he sees that every other man seems to be facing this lone stranger, almost as if the battle were between him and the rest. The lone man is holding two thin slightly curved blades, crossing them towards the sky. His head is raised to the sky as well.
Gazing at the picture, Connor jumps as he hears a voice behind him. “Gotten into my books have you,” the voice says as he jerks his head around to see who it is. Shila is standing by the fire chasing the evening coldness away and watching him. Connor runs a hand through his hair slightly embarrassed he was caught reading a book that he never attained permission to read.
“Yeah, sorry. I woke up a bit ago and wasn’t sure how long you would be, and I’ve always wondered what kind of books you had here so I thought I’d read one. I’m sorry for not asking if I could.”
“No reason to be sorry. I don’t mind you reading them, but answer me this, did you open any on the top shelf?” Shila asks, her features hardening slightly.
Connor glances back at the book shelf and shakes his head. “No, just the middle two shelves.”
Shila tilts her head slightly to look at the two shelves, scanning quickly over them, then seems to relax a bit.
“Good, but listen to me now. You are never to open or read anything from the top shelf. Bad things could happen if you do.”
Connor looks at the books on the top shelf, then back to Shila. “You mean if someone were to even read one, something might happen?”
She gives his a slight nod, and small smile. “Yes. You can have free range of the rest of the books but those. If any of the other ones have…...sensitive materials in them, you won’t be able to read them.”
“So I noticed. But what kind of things would happen if one were to read the other ones?”
“That is a conversation for another time.” With the chill now gone from her, Shila walks over to the table and sits in her chair. “Now lets see what you have been reading while I was away.”
A little annoyed at how everyone seems to be keeping things from him, as if he were to young or thick headed to understand what they would say, Connor pushes the book over and turns it to face Shila so she can see. He moves over to sit closer in case she wants to point something out to him.
“It’s a history book, but I’m not sure of the time or where it happened yet. I haven’t gotten that far.”
Looking down to see the picture before her, Shila gazes at it, seemingly lost in thought. After a long moment she speaks, her voice quiet. “This happened a long time ago. I will tell you of it now because it is of great significance to you.”
Wondering how a battle that happened so long ago could be important to him, Connor looks down at the picture again and waits for the old woman to start.
“This battle happened a thousand years ago, almost to the day but the story starts before it. There was a king that lived back then by the name of Drayton. He was the king of (kingdom) but you probably wouldn’t know it by that name, it has been changed since. He was a good king, honest and fair, loved by the people. He always had time to talk to anyone who wished it, even a poor farmer who had a need, he always listened and helped who he could.
“Often times he would travel around his small kingdom making sure everyone had at least the bare necessities to survive, and if someone didn’t, he made sure they got them. Such a generous man he was that he had messengers visit the surrounding kingdoms and report back to him if there were people that needed help in some way. If there were, he would visit the king that ruled there and speak with him about it, making known his want to help the needy. Most places he visited, he was welcomed and treated with respect. To his face at least. The other kings would hear him out and promise to do something about the poorest of people there but behind his back they despised him. They made their promises but as soon as Drayton left, they went back to their own ways.
“After a few years of traveling around and hearing empty promises, Drayton became first distraught, then depressed, so great was his need to help people. He sent out letters to the other kings, pleading with them to help their people, to do something, anything for them. Upon hearing back from his messengers that every single king had laughed at his letter and simply discarded it as if it were nothing, Drayton became enraged. After hearing all the lies and thoughtlessness of the other kings, he decided that if they wouldn’t do something, then he would.
“Having a small kingdom, Drayton’s army was just as small. Knowing he would need more then what he had, he went out and at each town and village asked the people there if they would volunteer to join his army. So compassionate and heartfelt were his speeches that almost all the men and boys old enough joined up and spent the next year with his army, training and learning everything they could about warfare.
“After a year when Drayton was told by his generals that they were sure his new army was trained enough for real combat, he went and addressed them, and after let them all have a week back with their families before they marched.
“With having such a loving and caring king, Drayton’s army surprised everyone they battled. Their numbers were few but they fought hard and with such ferocity that they quickly wiped out the surrounding kingdoms armies and added the remaining soldiers to their own, growing in numbers and strength with each battle. Freeing these innocent people of their tyrant rulers and now being able to help them, Drayton realized what he must do.”
At this point Shila stops, gets up and walks over to the fireplace, leaving Connor in anticipation for the rest of the story. Grabbing the kettle that is sitting above the fire, she places it back on the table and goes over to the shelves with her potions, grabs a small one and returns. She pours the boiling water into a goblet on the table and adds what looks to be paste from the small container. Connor watches impatiently but sits silent as he doesn’t want to spoil the mood Shila has created with her telling of the story. He waits eagerly as Shila stirs her drink with a thin smooth wooden stick then takes a small sip. Satisfied, she leans back into her chair and stares at the fire a moment before continuing.
“Gathering up his now quite large army, Drayton marches them out to the bigger kingdoms. Hearing what he was doing and not wanting to fall pray to him and lose their places on their thrones, every king marches against Drayton. And every king falls to him. Now he has the largest of any army and rules most the free lands. The remaining kings are now greatly worried and know its only a matter of time before he reaches them. With that fear, the kings all go and see the council of wizards, begging them to do something. Help in some way. The wizards have been watching and know eventually Drayton will be upon them. Knowing this they have already set plans in motion to stop him. The wizards asked the kings to bring to them their fiercest most skillful warrior. He was a man named Gabriel. When he arrived, the wizards ask him if he will give himself over to their magic to stop Drayton. He agrees knowing it may be the only chance they have . The wizards work their magic on him for many days and when they finish, they marvel at what they had just created.
Drayton’s army has gathered on the (?) plains, waiting for what they think will be the final battle. The kings have gathered on an outcropping overlooking the plains, and there they wait for the wizards and Gabriel. When they arrive, they wizards give Gabriel these two swords,” Shila points to the swords on the picture and takes a sip of her drink. Wide-eyed Connor looks at the picture and asks the question he has been waiting to ask.
“What did the wizards do that could let one man defeat an army where all other armies failed?”
Giving Connor a leveled look, Shila answers. “They created the Chraeon in Gabriel. Legend has it that Gabriel was already renowned for his ability with the sword and in a one on one combat, he was unbeatable. What the wizards did to him made this skill insignificant. As he walked down to face Drayton’s army, Drayton, having seen the kings and wizards on the hilltop, wasn’t sure what had transpired and why they would send only one man to face his massive army. He sent his soldiers to make short work of Gabriel and then finish off the kings and wizards so no one else would stand in his way. His army never reached the foot of the hill.”
Staring down at the picture as if he can see the battle moving before his eyes, Connor whispers in wonderment, “How did Gabriel defeat them all? With magic?”
Shila also looking at the picture replies quietly. “Yes, in a way. You see the Chraeon was magic. It didn’t make Gabriel invincible since he died fighting Drayton, but almost as close to invincible as one can get. When he was in the Chraeon, Gabriel never tired in battle. He fought with unsurpassed swordsmanship against Drayton’s army and swept through them like every one of them were standing still. His swords were blades of death; if you were caught by one of them, you didn’t survive. Every strike of his killed. When Gabriel had disposed of the army, he had naught a scratch on him.”
At this Connor shakes his head, trying to understand. “So you mean he never tired and was so fast, none of the soldiers could strike him?”
Shila nods her head.
“Then how did he die?”
“No one knows for sure but it is told that Drayton found a way. He blocked the magic somehow and defeated Gabriel. The wizards watched in horror and struck out against Drayton. They all died in the battle.”
Connor sits back absorbing everything he just heard. Remembering what she said at the beginning of her story, he looks at her and asks, “What does this have to do with me?”
“I was coming to that. The night before Gabriel had gone to the battle, he had been with his wife and she became impregnated. The magic the wizards had bestowed upon him passed to his son. This is where the problem of the magic arose. Without his father and the wizards around to teach him how to control the it, Ivan, that is Gabriel’s son, summoned the Chraeon without knowing it. Mostly in his sleep at first then as he got older, when he felt threatened or in stressful situations.
“The wizards had put a safeguard on the magic to make sure it wasn’t totally uncontrollable. The bearer of it had to feel threatened for his life or a loved ones life to be able to summon and use it. At least that’s how it the wizards intended for it to work.”
“But wait a minute. How can someone feel threatened while they sleep?”
“Well as you can imagine, being the son of someone known for his swordsmanship would have some impact on his son. Other children thought Ivan should be skillful as well but without his father around to teach him, he was just average with a blade. This led to the other children picking on him and bullying him and this of course led to fitful sleeping for the boy. This grew worse and worse as he aged, so much so that sometimes he would get beaten quite harshly. The other boys got so jealous that their dislike of him eventually turned to hate, and the beatings more severe.”
“But wouldn’t his mother do something about it? I mean she wouldn’t just stand by and let her son get beaten up every day.”
With a sad look, Shila shakes her head. “She died giving birth to him. Some people thought because Gabriel had gone and let wizards cast magic over him. Wizards back then were not especially liked. They were seen as trouble and only used people for their own devices. Gabriel knew what people might think of him for doing what he did but saw no other choice in stopping Drayton.
“This is also why Ivan was picked on so much. Then one night when he had eluded being beaten up during they day, the other boys went to where he lived to do it. The magic sensed the intentions of them and awoke inside of him. The next morning the bodies of the young men were found and Ivan was blamed. No one actually saw what happened but someone had to take the blame. Ivan was the ideal choice. The families of the dead boys knew their sons beat Ivan and blamed him for fighting back and killing them.
“And so Ivan was forced to leave his home and spent the next few years wondering around, stealing food and sleeping where he could. He was chased out of most towns he came across, at least the ones he dared stay in for an amount of time. He had heard the rumors of what the wizards did to his father and was scared to let it happen again so he kept moving.
“That’s as far as I know as the details go of young Ivan, but he eventually found a wife and had children. The magic passed down to his first son and then to each generation as they were birthed. Almost all the males had the same problem with the magic.”
“What do you mean almost all of them. Did some of them learn to control it? And what about the women?” Connor asks, still paying close attention to the story.
“No, none of them knew how it worked. But you see not all of them felt threatened enough for the magic to awaken. Sometimes many generations passed before it happened again and with that amount of time gone by, any knowledge known of how to control it was lost to Gabriel’s descendants. At least that’s the way it was. The magic seems to have changed and now the wielder doesn’t even need to feel threatened for it to work.
“ As for the women, the magic didn’t affect the female offspring,” Shila said. “Since the wizards used their magic on Gabriel, a man, it only passed on to the males.”
Running through everything he has heard that evening, Connor lets out a long sigh.
“Ok, but I still don’t know how this applies to me.”
Shila looks over to Connor with a crooked smile. “Haven’t figured it out yet?
He gives her a blank look.
“Gabriel is your ancestor.”
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I only made it half way through. The reason being, I can’t for the life of me see how people can write in that tense. It’s confusing and irritating and doesn’t help the reader at all.
People aren’t used to reading:
‘As he steps through the door and into the small house, Connor looks around’
So it just doesn’t roll off the tongue as easy as:
‘As he stepped through the door and into the small house, Connor looked around’
I think you should read it aloud to better see what sort of difference it makes to the difficulty of reading it.
Spelling and grammar.
Nothing major, just a few monir spelling and grammatical errors which can be easily fixed. Once more, reading it aloud will help locate the places which need changing. Also, you need to add ’?’ to thoughts and questions.
‘She gives his(him) a slight nod, and (a) small smile. “Yes. You can have free range of the rest of the books(,) but (not)those. (They) have……sensitive materials in them, you won’t be able to read them.”’
Characterisation
You need to give a bit more description to help add volume to your characters. Also some ambient description to help keep the reader in the story. Shila comes across as a simple friend of Connor’s, and to be truthful she speaks like an adolescent.
eg, ‘“Good, but listen to me now. You are never to open or read anything from the top shelf. Bad things could happen if you do.”’
A few things to work on… But on the whole, definitely not bad!
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I like the opening paragraph. Well described, you gave me a complete picture of what was in the scene without boring me as well as supplying enough of a hint of backstory to interest me further. Well done…
I was going to make comments as I progressed through the narrative, but I found myself hooked as it drew to a close.
In my opinion, you write very well. Your prose might not be ‘flowery’, but it has the courage of its convictions in that it has that depth behind the fiction, that important message that the Lord of the rings stories had. (No pressure, then.)
I can’t stand many descriptive passages, but I think that’s your greatest strength. You provide the reader with very clear images, so that he feels as if he is there.
As for grammatical stuff, like tense and that, I don’t want to interfere too much, cos it’s your story and it seems as though its still in its early stages of incubation – as a fellow writer, I know that any comments I get can sway me in several directions. So I’ll leave all the technical stuff out.
This is probably the only sci fi story on here that I’ve actually found interesting. It’s very good.
Many fantasy stories are built upon a mythical tale – usually involving warriors and magic – and your tale about Gabriel fulfils that requirement.
I really enjoyed reading this and wish you all the best with the story.
I only skimmed through it but that’s all that publishers and agents do anyway so here it goes.
From what I can see, this piece has amazing potential in the publishing market. I can’t wait to hear a title for it and I hope its a good one. I cound’t see any spelling or grammar mistakes and it flowed very well.
Good Luck
i found this piece especially well-wrought and its end to be, well, let’s just say i want to read the next section…
good job in crafting an engrossing read…
Next to the bookcase were shelves full of containers; different sized jugs and corked gourds arranged messily on each shelf
You we’re very descriptive but not over bearing. That is important b/c if you go into to much detail then you’ll lose the reader…which you don’t want to do obliviously.
The only other thing that I can find fault with is that you being with a word ending in “I_N_G” Replacing, shaking starting, stirring and becoming… try not to do this because if one confuses the tense and two really isn’t strong b/c your not SHOWING the story… your telling it. Unfortunately that is the art to writing is if you can “SHOW” through words then you’ve accomplished the art of writing! Enough for now, sorry to be so harsh other then that it was awesome!
LOVE SHILA AND THE WAY SHE SPEAKS!
YOU SAID “Drayton became first distraught” INSTEAD MAYBE “FIRST DRAYTON BECAME DISTRAUGHT.”? IT FLOWS BETTER, I THINK.
IT’S AN OUTSTANDING STORY SO FAR. A LITTLE PREDICTABLE I’M AFRAID. I KNEW FROM THE VERY EARLY ON IN THE STORY SHE WAS TELLING THAT DRAYTON WAS SOMEHOW CONNECTED TO IVAN. MIGHT WANT TO NOT SPOON-FEED US THAT MUCH INFO. CLOUD USE A LITTLE IN THE METAPHORS DEPARTMENT. OR MAYBE IT NEEDED TO BE THERE AS I’VE NOT READ THE OTHER PART.
SHILA IS A PRETTY WELL DRAWN OUT CHARACTER, THOUGH ADDING A BIT MORE OF HER LOOKS, EXPRESSIONS AND THE SUCH WOULD HELP. BUT, DRAYTON SEEMS TO NEED A BIT MORE COLOR ADDED TO HIM, HE’S SORT OF BLAND. BUT AGAIN, I’VE NOT READ THE OTHER PART, HE MAY VERY WELL BE AS 3D AS THEY COME.
THE DIALOG WAS NICE, IT FLOWED WELL AND I’VE NOTHING BAD TO SAY ABOUT THAT. IF THERE WERE MISTAKES THEY DID SCREAM OUT AT ME. GOOD LUCK, IT SEEMS TO BE A WELL THOUGHT OUT STORY AND OTHER THAN WHAT I MENTIONED, WELL DONE!
Awsome!! I am hooked. Shila is an interesting figure within the storyline and the fact that Conner is an ancester of this Gabriel adds to the complexity of this story. You are doing well with this story and I look foward to the rest. However, once again I must comment on the punctuational errors in the text. There are problems with the fluidity of the reading because of all the commas. Try using semi-colens in some places and leaving some of the commas out. Proof-read your chapters and you will see what I mean by saying that the commas take away from the fluidness of the text. I still like what you have here and hope to see this work get publication some day, you have a talent worth getting noticed.
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