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Writer's Guild / My first story, Frozen wings - Coming of Age
« on: June 25, 2016, 12:11:27 AM »
Hello everyone, I am relative new here, so I figure I would contribute to the vast amounts of literature on the site. Anyhow, I hope you like it, and criticism is always welcome. I will give a bit of a warning there is quite a bit of blood, although it isn't human nor animal blood. The word doc for it is posted in the reply below, and my comments and discussion on this story is after the written story below the writing in this post.
A pale blue light peaks through the thatched roof. As if it were a feather, it tickles the fur covered muzzle of the creature inside. He twitches ever so gently, then slowly opens his eyes. The lemming stares blankly at the temporary walls around him as the light trickles in to the room.
He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath. He sits up, his makeshift blanket of flowers and moss fall to the side as he stands. He shakes the dust off his fur and grooms his paws before going outside.
Clouds frolic in the heaven as they block the stars with their shifting forms. Inconsistent patches of light and shadow create a blanket that drapes over the world below, even the brown and red fur of the lemming displays the pattern projected from above.
He turns his gaze away from the stars, his big black eyes scan the world around him. “Today must be the day” is the only thought in his head as he instinctively starts to prepare for the most important day of his life.
…
Alex grinds two silver rocks over a pit of dried brush. Sparks flicker on to the shrubbery as he gently blows on them order to give life to a fire. He tries this several before the flames actually come to life.
The nut squishes as Alex drives a stick through its core; he lowers it gently above the fire. His dark eyes look in to the bright flames as he prepares his breakfast. He draws the nut out and pours a bit of water on it. Hissing steam rises as the crisp nut starts to curl ever so slightly.
He can’t help but smile as he tastes the roasted chestnut. He finishes it quickly, then licks his paws off in order to get every vestige of the nut in to his maw. He licks off his licks, giving himself a moment to savor the flavor.
It isn’t long before the fire consumes all of its fuel, after which the flames sputter and promptly die. Alex kicks some dirt over the dying embers and walks over to his make shift shelter. He straps his backpack and belt over his shoulder. He places his short bow over his back, then draws his spear from the ground, and holds it in his mouth.
…
The grass stands upwards; no wind disturbs it. Large flowers dot the landscape, silently communicated with each other with strange colors collected from the void. The soft sound of Alex’s paws against the ground, and of his breath are the only things that break the crystal like stillness of this land.
Alex walks down a winding path, hours pass until another sound joins his lonely symphony, a river, the rhythmic song of water. Otherworldly creatures with rainbow wings and scales perch on aquatic flowers and watch as Alex stops at the shore.
He looks up and down the flowing water. He sees where the river ends, the water flows off the edge in to the endless void that exists being the floating landmass. The other direction, it travels by a lonely tower whose form could barely be discerned from the surrounding expanse of stars. It is surrounded by bushes of Black Flowers.
A gentle pop as Alex removes the lid from his water skin. He skims off the pure liquid until the leather bag is full. He places the cap back on, then lowers his maw to the stream and drinks. He closes his eyes as he feels the universe around him.
“Your beauty is beyond comprehension, your form magnificent. Even though your kingdom lay in ruin, it’s design cannot be expressed nor matched by any word nor craft we know.” He submerges his head in to the water as he continues his silent prayer. “Protector of all, I am still a pup, shelter me so that I may receive your greatest grift to us. Guardian of the universe, give me the strength so I may join my brethren as a true member of the clan. Polara, please…”
Alex draws his head from the water and takes a deep breath. He reflects on what he needs to do, and all the things that need to be just right. Doubts start to cloud his mind, “what if I miss, what if the powder doesn’t work, what if... No” a deep breath in, a deep breath out “I will succeed, I will overcome, my plan will work”.
…
He remembers when and where he left. It was beneath a giant archway of granite engraved with symbols whose meanings have long since been forgotten to the passing eons. The trees had spread their boughs high above the forest floor, moss covered the ground.
“One month” the words echoed in his ear. “You must be back at the gate” his expression was grim “with or without it, until the moon is full again, else you will be trapped”. Alex shuttered visibly as he looked around at his brethren.
They all had one, had all gone through this journey and returned. He even remembered some faces that were not there. Stories of those who were slain on their quests, or didn’t make it back and were never heard of again.
He double checked his things. He had prepared, but one can never have prepared enough. Powders, blunt arrow, arrows, water skin, spear, all things he had with him. “But make sure to come home” the shaman placed a paw on his shoulder. He smiled, then, with the help of his staff, he left, and all of his clan left too. He was alone beneath the archway.
When he would awake next, his quest will have begun.
…
The sickening sweet smell of the Black Flowers assaults Alex’s nose. His eyes water as he approaches one, the stinging sensation intensifies as he pulls out a small bag. He undoes the string holding it together and pours the white powder in to the deep mouth of the flower.
He coughs as he staggers away. He drops to the ground and closes his eyes. He blocks out everything except for his memory of that tower. It reaches far in to the void above, a circular bastion with a singular bridge that juts out the side, crosses the river, then promptly crumples as it protrudes off the end of the world.
He opens his eyes and draws his bow. He strings it, then backs up behind a tower of grass. He draws a single arrow from his bag and readies it. He waits, he knows it will come, it must come. “One, two, three…” he counts to himself in order to keep his focus. “Four, five, six… what color will it be, will it be large?” he shakes his head “one, two, three”. Minutes pass, hours pass, but it comes.
Alex gasps ever so slightly as he makes out its unmistakable shape. Long bladelike projections for forearms, and flowing, fleshy tentacles. It’s three, pupils-less eyes and an eyestalk on the top of its head complete its horrible form. From its maw extends its large tongue that licks up the nectar from the bottom of the Black Flowers.
Alex draws the arrow back and aims. He needs to be far enough away so the rakskar won’t notice him, and equivalently slice him in to disfigured bits. He holds his breathe, “please…”, then releases. The arrow swiftly digs itself in to the bush with Black Flowers.
Alex isn’t anything amazing when it comes to archery, so he decided he wouldn’t bank on impaling the creature. With a blunt arrow he would hit the bush, much larger and easier to hit considering how far away he would be.
The powder takes flight in to the air, expanding outwards it attacks the rakshar’s vulnerable eyestalk. The creature writhes and screeches in pain. Its main eye closes as it instinctively runs towards the river; at once it dips its eye stalk in to refreshing water.
One step in front of the other, Alex slowly approaches the creature. It’s three eyes stare blankly at him. To them, Alex appears to be another nameless shadow created by the clouds. Holding his breath, he continues to approach until he dares approach no more. From his belt he draws a single pointed arrow and nocks. The creature turns towards him as Alex releases his breath, but it is too late.
…
The rakshar screams and slashes around itself as it feels the sharp arrow dig itself in to the eye on its stalk, its only good eye. It thrashes around with its bladelike appendages, destroying everything around it as it charges blindly through the flora. Golden streaks flow over its drab scales and fur.
Alex drops his bow, his belt and pack. As quickly as he can he retrieves his spear, then follows the trail of golden blood. It runs for nearly 20 minutes until it stops panicking and starts to clean its ruined eye with its alien like feelers.
Alex stands, and slowly takes his spear from out of his maw as he approaches. A crystal like silence falls upon them both, but once he knows the rakshar isn’t noticing him, Alex breathes a sigh of relief. As if on cue, his eyes widen in a sudden panic.
The raskshar turns to Alex and with his feelers probes the area. Those disgusting things from this demon, it is trying to find him. Holding his spear, he yells as he slashes as one of the feelers, severing it from the abomination’s body.
The raskshar bellows and slashes downwards toward the lemming. Alex yells in agony as the blade like arm slices his shoulder, but he brings his spear down in time to parry the other arm. The creature’s strength is too much, and it sends Alex flying backwards, and his spear skitters under the dreadful creature.
There is no time for him to address his wound, Alex holds his breathe, staying perfectly still as the creature scans around for him. Unable to see him nor hear him, the rakshar vents its anger by tearing up the ground around itself.
He knows he needs to be quite as he closes range, Alex clamps his mouth shut, stifling his instinctive war-cry. He rolls up and charges forward. Not knowing exactly where he is, the creatue digs it’s arms in to the ground where he hears the noise. He lets go of his voice only after dodging the blade-like arms, he rolls under the beast.
He snatches his spear and slides in between its legs so he is behind this terrible foe. In a fluid motion he drives the point in to the back of the rakshar’s knee. He digs his blade deep in between the two hardened scales.
He pushes the shaft upwards, golden blood oozes as he rips his blade out, the rakshar falls to its knees. Passion overtakes him, he rolls back under the rakshar and faces the beast. Anger boils through him as he sees the nearly broken form of this, this thing.
No words can he form, but no words does he need. A yell from the depths of his soul the pure expression of passion and fury, an inner fire burned deep within his black eyes. Staring through the demon, he leaps up, spear first and drives the point in to its chest, sending the creature crashing on to its back.
A crack as the spear pole breaks off. The lemming tosses the shaft down then draws the golden hued blade from the belly of the beast. Blood oozes from his shoulder as he walks on the rakshar towards its head. It’s vicious arms flail wildly, unable to reach the lemming.
He places his paw on the broken shaft, then drives the blade deep it to the center eye of the creature’s head. Golden mist sprays out, covering the blade and Alex’s face as he drives it deeper in to its brain. The rakshar gives a final roar, then goes silent and limp against the blood soaked ground.
Alex releases his grip; he breathes heavily as he stares in to the creature’s lifeless eyes. The adrenalin starts to leave him; he grasps his shoulder. His rush finished, his sight goes blurry, and he falls on the carcass of the demon.
…
His eyes slowly open, the large black orbs look up in to the heavens above. Shades of purple and blues cloud the night sky, accompanied by an uncountable number of stars of nearly every color and size. “Where am I?” he thinks to himself.
The memories start to come back to him like stars poking behind the curtain of the void. The disgustingly sweet scent of the golden blood mangled with his fur. He places his paw oh his shoulder as he feels it throb in pain.
He shakes his head as he recalls how he got in to this mess. He gets up, but then that specific memory of his purpose returns. His eyes widen, and he looks down at the creature in disbelief. His breathing intensifies as he draws the spear blade from the eye.
“Is this it, is it here?” he doesn’t waste a breath as he rushes to the belly of his felled foe. He drives the blade in, and starts to carve away the flesh. The scent assaults him again, but he shrugs it off, his eyes and mind are set on one thing now.
He cuts away the flesh which promptly sloshes to the floor. He tosses the blade on the ground, then starts to dig in to the creature. He feels around it’s chest cavity until he feels something glossy and hard. “is this...” he plucks it from the core and jumps out of the empty rakshar. He wipes some of the blood off of the perfectly round object.
He takes a deep breath as a gentle glow emanates from the stone. He watches it, his whiskers twitch nervously as he can scarcely believe this is happening. A smile creeps across his face.
…
He sets down his spear head and orb as he steps in to the water. It is cold, the gold haze fades from his red and brown fur. Alex dips his head in the water and cleans off himself with his paws and maw, while doing his best not to disturb the scab on his shoulder.
He washes his blade off; the grey steel shines dimly in the starlight. He sets it aside, then takes the ball and rises it off in the clear water. The gold is carried away to reveal the gem beneath. A white glow emanates deep within the crystal; it is in the shape of a winged creature.
He walks out of the water and shakes off his fur. It stands on end, but he is still looking deep in to the crystal. “This is it, the frozen wings” he rubs it in its paws, “my passage to adulthood, my gateway to magic, my gift” his face lights up like the crystal as the thoughts cross his mind. “My Heartstone”.
Welp that is the first part of the story, I will work on other parts if people are enjoying it. Even if people aren't enjoying it, I will probably continue it anyways.
Now for my thoughts about this. I read a lot of pieces already on here. The most common critiques seem to be "Your tenses don't agree" so I made a conscious effort to make sure everything agrees.
As for the story itself, I tried to integrate the descriptions with the actions, though I will admit it may sometimes feel a bit forced, and it does occasionally break the flow.
I also may not have been completely consistent with Alex's personality, which is something I will continue to work on.
I do need to work on battle choreography, as this battle wasn't too original, just some over the top stuff as well as drawing some inspiration from the GoT Oberyn vs The Mountain duel.
I also haven't really explained magic or the world within this snip it. I figure I would focus on the character and the likes just to start. This is a preface and such.
Anyhow, if there is anything else you noticed, questions, suggestions, comments, criticisms, I am eager to hearing them. Also, I tried to copy and paste this from the word document. When typing however I pressed the tab key, which proceeded to submit the post before I had finished it. Now I don't actually know how to link the word document without redoing the post entirely. I will assure you the paragraph formatting is correct on the word document.
A pale blue light peaks through the thatched roof. As if it were a feather, it tickles the fur covered muzzle of the creature inside. He twitches ever so gently, then slowly opens his eyes. The lemming stares blankly at the temporary walls around him as the light trickles in to the room.
He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath. He sits up, his makeshift blanket of flowers and moss fall to the side as he stands. He shakes the dust off his fur and grooms his paws before going outside.
Clouds frolic in the heaven as they block the stars with their shifting forms. Inconsistent patches of light and shadow create a blanket that drapes over the world below, even the brown and red fur of the lemming displays the pattern projected from above.
He turns his gaze away from the stars, his big black eyes scan the world around him. “Today must be the day” is the only thought in his head as he instinctively starts to prepare for the most important day of his life.
…
Alex grinds two silver rocks over a pit of dried brush. Sparks flicker on to the shrubbery as he gently blows on them order to give life to a fire. He tries this several before the flames actually come to life.
The nut squishes as Alex drives a stick through its core; he lowers it gently above the fire. His dark eyes look in to the bright flames as he prepares his breakfast. He draws the nut out and pours a bit of water on it. Hissing steam rises as the crisp nut starts to curl ever so slightly.
He can’t help but smile as he tastes the roasted chestnut. He finishes it quickly, then licks his paws off in order to get every vestige of the nut in to his maw. He licks off his licks, giving himself a moment to savor the flavor.
It isn’t long before the fire consumes all of its fuel, after which the flames sputter and promptly die. Alex kicks some dirt over the dying embers and walks over to his make shift shelter. He straps his backpack and belt over his shoulder. He places his short bow over his back, then draws his spear from the ground, and holds it in his mouth.
…
The grass stands upwards; no wind disturbs it. Large flowers dot the landscape, silently communicated with each other with strange colors collected from the void. The soft sound of Alex’s paws against the ground, and of his breath are the only things that break the crystal like stillness of this land.
Alex walks down a winding path, hours pass until another sound joins his lonely symphony, a river, the rhythmic song of water. Otherworldly creatures with rainbow wings and scales perch on aquatic flowers and watch as Alex stops at the shore.
He looks up and down the flowing water. He sees where the river ends, the water flows off the edge in to the endless void that exists being the floating landmass. The other direction, it travels by a lonely tower whose form could barely be discerned from the surrounding expanse of stars. It is surrounded by bushes of Black Flowers.
A gentle pop as Alex removes the lid from his water skin. He skims off the pure liquid until the leather bag is full. He places the cap back on, then lowers his maw to the stream and drinks. He closes his eyes as he feels the universe around him.
“Your beauty is beyond comprehension, your form magnificent. Even though your kingdom lay in ruin, it’s design cannot be expressed nor matched by any word nor craft we know.” He submerges his head in to the water as he continues his silent prayer. “Protector of all, I am still a pup, shelter me so that I may receive your greatest grift to us. Guardian of the universe, give me the strength so I may join my brethren as a true member of the clan. Polara, please…”
Alex draws his head from the water and takes a deep breath. He reflects on what he needs to do, and all the things that need to be just right. Doubts start to cloud his mind, “what if I miss, what if the powder doesn’t work, what if... No” a deep breath in, a deep breath out “I will succeed, I will overcome, my plan will work”.
…
He remembers when and where he left. It was beneath a giant archway of granite engraved with symbols whose meanings have long since been forgotten to the passing eons. The trees had spread their boughs high above the forest floor, moss covered the ground.
“One month” the words echoed in his ear. “You must be back at the gate” his expression was grim “with or without it, until the moon is full again, else you will be trapped”. Alex shuttered visibly as he looked around at his brethren.
They all had one, had all gone through this journey and returned. He even remembered some faces that were not there. Stories of those who were slain on their quests, or didn’t make it back and were never heard of again.
He double checked his things. He had prepared, but one can never have prepared enough. Powders, blunt arrow, arrows, water skin, spear, all things he had with him. “But make sure to come home” the shaman placed a paw on his shoulder. He smiled, then, with the help of his staff, he left, and all of his clan left too. He was alone beneath the archway.
When he would awake next, his quest will have begun.
…
The sickening sweet smell of the Black Flowers assaults Alex’s nose. His eyes water as he approaches one, the stinging sensation intensifies as he pulls out a small bag. He undoes the string holding it together and pours the white powder in to the deep mouth of the flower.
He coughs as he staggers away. He drops to the ground and closes his eyes. He blocks out everything except for his memory of that tower. It reaches far in to the void above, a circular bastion with a singular bridge that juts out the side, crosses the river, then promptly crumples as it protrudes off the end of the world.
He opens his eyes and draws his bow. He strings it, then backs up behind a tower of grass. He draws a single arrow from his bag and readies it. He waits, he knows it will come, it must come. “One, two, three…” he counts to himself in order to keep his focus. “Four, five, six… what color will it be, will it be large?” he shakes his head “one, two, three”. Minutes pass, hours pass, but it comes.
Alex gasps ever so slightly as he makes out its unmistakable shape. Long bladelike projections for forearms, and flowing, fleshy tentacles. It’s three, pupils-less eyes and an eyestalk on the top of its head complete its horrible form. From its maw extends its large tongue that licks up the nectar from the bottom of the Black Flowers.
Alex draws the arrow back and aims. He needs to be far enough away so the rakskar won’t notice him, and equivalently slice him in to disfigured bits. He holds his breathe, “please…”, then releases. The arrow swiftly digs itself in to the bush with Black Flowers.
Alex isn’t anything amazing when it comes to archery, so he decided he wouldn’t bank on impaling the creature. With a blunt arrow he would hit the bush, much larger and easier to hit considering how far away he would be.
The powder takes flight in to the air, expanding outwards it attacks the rakshar’s vulnerable eyestalk. The creature writhes and screeches in pain. Its main eye closes as it instinctively runs towards the river; at once it dips its eye stalk in to refreshing water.
One step in front of the other, Alex slowly approaches the creature. It’s three eyes stare blankly at him. To them, Alex appears to be another nameless shadow created by the clouds. Holding his breath, he continues to approach until he dares approach no more. From his belt he draws a single pointed arrow and nocks. The creature turns towards him as Alex releases his breath, but it is too late.
…
The rakshar screams and slashes around itself as it feels the sharp arrow dig itself in to the eye on its stalk, its only good eye. It thrashes around with its bladelike appendages, destroying everything around it as it charges blindly through the flora. Golden streaks flow over its drab scales and fur.
Alex drops his bow, his belt and pack. As quickly as he can he retrieves his spear, then follows the trail of golden blood. It runs for nearly 20 minutes until it stops panicking and starts to clean its ruined eye with its alien like feelers.
Alex stands, and slowly takes his spear from out of his maw as he approaches. A crystal like silence falls upon them both, but once he knows the rakshar isn’t noticing him, Alex breathes a sigh of relief. As if on cue, his eyes widen in a sudden panic.
The raskshar turns to Alex and with his feelers probes the area. Those disgusting things from this demon, it is trying to find him. Holding his spear, he yells as he slashes as one of the feelers, severing it from the abomination’s body.
The raskshar bellows and slashes downwards toward the lemming. Alex yells in agony as the blade like arm slices his shoulder, but he brings his spear down in time to parry the other arm. The creature’s strength is too much, and it sends Alex flying backwards, and his spear skitters under the dreadful creature.
There is no time for him to address his wound, Alex holds his breathe, staying perfectly still as the creature scans around for him. Unable to see him nor hear him, the rakshar vents its anger by tearing up the ground around itself.
He knows he needs to be quite as he closes range, Alex clamps his mouth shut, stifling his instinctive war-cry. He rolls up and charges forward. Not knowing exactly where he is, the creatue digs it’s arms in to the ground where he hears the noise. He lets go of his voice only after dodging the blade-like arms, he rolls under the beast.
He snatches his spear and slides in between its legs so he is behind this terrible foe. In a fluid motion he drives the point in to the back of the rakshar’s knee. He digs his blade deep in between the two hardened scales.
He pushes the shaft upwards, golden blood oozes as he rips his blade out, the rakshar falls to its knees. Passion overtakes him, he rolls back under the rakshar and faces the beast. Anger boils through him as he sees the nearly broken form of this, this thing.
No words can he form, but no words does he need. A yell from the depths of his soul the pure expression of passion and fury, an inner fire burned deep within his black eyes. Staring through the demon, he leaps up, spear first and drives the point in to its chest, sending the creature crashing on to its back.
A crack as the spear pole breaks off. The lemming tosses the shaft down then draws the golden hued blade from the belly of the beast. Blood oozes from his shoulder as he walks on the rakshar towards its head. It’s vicious arms flail wildly, unable to reach the lemming.
He places his paw on the broken shaft, then drives the blade deep it to the center eye of the creature’s head. Golden mist sprays out, covering the blade and Alex’s face as he drives it deeper in to its brain. The rakshar gives a final roar, then goes silent and limp against the blood soaked ground.
Alex releases his grip; he breathes heavily as he stares in to the creature’s lifeless eyes. The adrenalin starts to leave him; he grasps his shoulder. His rush finished, his sight goes blurry, and he falls on the carcass of the demon.
…
His eyes slowly open, the large black orbs look up in to the heavens above. Shades of purple and blues cloud the night sky, accompanied by an uncountable number of stars of nearly every color and size. “Where am I?” he thinks to himself.
The memories start to come back to him like stars poking behind the curtain of the void. The disgustingly sweet scent of the golden blood mangled with his fur. He places his paw oh his shoulder as he feels it throb in pain.
He shakes his head as he recalls how he got in to this mess. He gets up, but then that specific memory of his purpose returns. His eyes widen, and he looks down at the creature in disbelief. His breathing intensifies as he draws the spear blade from the eye.
“Is this it, is it here?” he doesn’t waste a breath as he rushes to the belly of his felled foe. He drives the blade in, and starts to carve away the flesh. The scent assaults him again, but he shrugs it off, his eyes and mind are set on one thing now.
He cuts away the flesh which promptly sloshes to the floor. He tosses the blade on the ground, then starts to dig in to the creature. He feels around it’s chest cavity until he feels something glossy and hard. “is this...” he plucks it from the core and jumps out of the empty rakshar. He wipes some of the blood off of the perfectly round object.
He takes a deep breath as a gentle glow emanates from the stone. He watches it, his whiskers twitch nervously as he can scarcely believe this is happening. A smile creeps across his face.
…
He sets down his spear head and orb as he steps in to the water. It is cold, the gold haze fades from his red and brown fur. Alex dips his head in the water and cleans off himself with his paws and maw, while doing his best not to disturb the scab on his shoulder.
He washes his blade off; the grey steel shines dimly in the starlight. He sets it aside, then takes the ball and rises it off in the clear water. The gold is carried away to reveal the gem beneath. A white glow emanates deep within the crystal; it is in the shape of a winged creature.
He walks out of the water and shakes off his fur. It stands on end, but he is still looking deep in to the crystal. “This is it, the frozen wings” he rubs it in its paws, “my passage to adulthood, my gateway to magic, my gift” his face lights up like the crystal as the thoughts cross his mind. “My Heartstone”.
Welp that is the first part of the story, I will work on other parts if people are enjoying it. Even if people aren't enjoying it, I will probably continue it anyways.
Now for my thoughts about this. I read a lot of pieces already on here. The most common critiques seem to be "Your tenses don't agree" so I made a conscious effort to make sure everything agrees.
As for the story itself, I tried to integrate the descriptions with the actions, though I will admit it may sometimes feel a bit forced, and it does occasionally break the flow.
I also may not have been completely consistent with Alex's personality, which is something I will continue to work on.
I do need to work on battle choreography, as this battle wasn't too original, just some over the top stuff as well as drawing some inspiration from the GoT Oberyn vs The Mountain duel.
I also haven't really explained magic or the world within this snip it. I figure I would focus on the character and the likes just to start. This is a preface and such.
Anyhow, if there is anything else you noticed, questions, suggestions, comments, criticisms, I am eager to hearing them. Also, I tried to copy and paste this from the word document. When typing however I pressed the tab key, which proceeded to submit the post before I had finished it. Now I don't actually know how to link the word document without redoing the post entirely. I will assure you the paragraph formatting is correct on the word document.