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lyrical_sunshine
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 Posted: Thu Jun 26, 2008 5:13 pm Post subject: Re: Gypsie Eyes: prologue and chapter one |
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I'm going to be really nit-picky, just because this is so good. :D
| gyrfalcon wrote: |
Prologue
The children were not watching the storyteller. Instead their eyes were focused on the frail boy who sat nearest her. He was the only one who did watch her (this part seems a little reduncdant - how about "he was the only one not fixated on the woman" or something like that?) and his pale blue eyes twitched in annoyance whenever she lied—a judgment the children took to heart. They trusted him more than any adult, because he could talk to the gulls by the river-port and, as far as they were concerned, knew everything. His name was Avarn. He was their king.
Sitting beside him was his second-in-command, a tall girl named Karenna. She had curly brown hair that she refused to put into sensible braids. Her dark locks hung in front of her face, hiding her eyes. But all of them knew what her curtain of brown hair hid. (again, just a little redundant) They were even more afraid of her.
Finally the storyteller finished, unaware that she had been caught out in all the little human-superiority lies. All the children knew the real story. Avarn had told them often enough, and he would tell them again tonight. But for now they scattered, called home for lunch by the tolling of the noon bell.
Avarn and Karenna didn’t scatter. They obeyed the bell only when it suited them. Instead they went together down to the docks, where they walked along the riverside until they came to the place where the fishermen dumped their garbage. There were gulls there, hundreds of them, calling and screaming and fighting over scraps and half-rotted (rotten) fish skeletons. Avarn gave a call in their own language, and one of the gulls fluttered over to him. This gull flew badly, his recently-broken wing jerking as he flapped. Harassed and scrawny, he scoffed down the crust of bread that Avarn offered him.
Karenna smiled and stroked his head. The gull would have snapped at anyone else, but he knew Karenna. He knew that if he hurt her the boy with the water-like eyes would not feed him again. He was quite bright, for a gull.
At length, Avarn spoke. “Karenna,” he said quietly, “do you think there’s something wrong with me?”
She looked at her leader sharply; he had never said anything like this before. “No, of course not!”
He smiled. “My parents aren’t my real parents.” This was a well-known fact; the two people who had raised him were an elderly leather-merchant and his sister, both kind but fading people.
“Neither are mine,” she rebuffed.
He shifted his gaze back to the gull. “I think,” he said softly, “I think there may well be something different about me. I think that I may not be here much longer.”
“Why?” demanded Karenna.
“I saw a lady yesterday, a new lady. She had long black hair like mine and she said she was my real mother, that I was special, and that tonight, after the story, I must go away to stay with her and her husband.”
“Your father?”
Avarn shook his head. “No. She said she didn’t know who my father was but she was lying.”
"How do you know she's your real mother?"
Avarn gave her a half-smile. "Karenna, it's me."
Karenna stayed quiet for a few moments, stroking the bird. “I don’t want you to go,” she said at last.
“I don’t want to go.”
“Then stay!” At her cry the gull squawked and threatened to fly off. “Why can’t you stay here, my parents can keep you, or you can hide with the gulls and tell them to attack anyone but me who comes near. Or we could—”
He held up a hand, and his eyes were serious. “Karenna,” he soothed, “I won’t be gone forever.”
“I’ll never see you again.” She was close to tears, but she fought them back.
“Of course you will,” he said. “I promise. She’ll teach me to be a magician, like she said, and then I’ll come back to you. I promise, Karenna.”
“Is she a magician?” Karenna knew how rare that particular class of magic user was, and the thought of Avarn as one made the idea of parting a little less bitter.
“Yes. And she says that’s why I can talk to gulls and things, because I have an afin…an affin-i-ty for them, for water and air things. She has an affin-i-ty for fire things.”
Karenna considered. “But what if, once you’re a magician, she locks you up in a tower so you can’t be a better magician than her?”
He thought about this for a moment. “Well then I’ll send a gull to come and get you and bring you to me, so you can free me from her and we can stop whatever evils she’s doing together.”
She liked the thought. “Like they do in the stories?”
Avarn smiled. “Yes, in all the best stories. But you have to promise to follow the gull when I send him.”
Karenna clasped her hands to her heart. “I promise.”
He put his hands over hers. “And I promise to never, never forget you, Karenna Morn.”
Chapter One
Tannar watched the young woman as she slept, wondering idly how much damage a well-placed hailstone could do to that willowy body. He decided against it. A solitary hailstone in the middle of spring would be suspicious. Moreover, he had been given specific instructions as to her safety. As he continued to watch her, scratching at the bronze bands around his wrists, he decided he didn’t really want to hurt her. He just wanted her to never have been born. (I just loved this whole paragraph. Thought I'd let you know. :) )
The wagon they were in trundled along in its caravan, the ground beneath the wheels growing muddy from the mounting rainstorm. The water dripping through the canvas overhead woke her and she started, drawing her bag closer to her body. He didn’t stop staring. There was something about her eyes.
“I’m Karenna Morn,” she said, snapping him out of his study of her. (Okay, this seems like a strange moment for an introduction...Just a thought.)
“How nice for you,” he replied. She had stopped looking directly at him.
“What’s your name?” she asked. “Sorry to be forward, but you joined three days ago and I still don’t know it.”
He crossed his arms. “Tannar.”
She waited, presumably for a surname. He sighed. It wasn’t her fault, not really. And, to be fair, he had been the one to push Avarn to this. “That’s it,” he said, waving his arms expansively. “Just Tannar.”
“Doesn’t that mean Windstorm?”
He blinked. “How do you know Elemental?”
Her cheeks reddened, but not out of embarrassment. She averted her gaze. “I know a few words.”
He watched her with renewed focus. Maybe there was something special here. Avarn hadn’t mentioned any mage talents. Of course, Avarn hadn’t mentioned the eyes either. Tannar settled back, scratching at the flesh around his wristbands again. This might be interesting after all.
* * *
Karenna found it difficult to avoid his probing stare, and the more he tried to lock eyes with her the tighter she clutched her bag. The comforting shape of the wooden box within calmed her. Finally Tannar gave up his intense study of her face, and the rain slackened off.
The wagon jerked, sending a wine barrel toppling down onto her. It pinned her, and she could hear the contents sloshing around as she struggled to move it. The rough wood of the barrel scraped her hands and the smell of wine made her want to gag.
Tannar watched her for a moment, then leaned forward and shifted the barrel with little discernable effort. For an instant he was above her, his soft black eyes looking directly down into hers. Karenna could have sworn there was something invisible and otherworldly behind those eyes. And then he was back on his side of the wagon, and she shook her head, dislodging such fancies.
She sat up, still clutching the bag. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, and a part of her wished that he would. With the strength born of long practice, she shut the door on such emotions and settled back to sleep.
* * *
That night the three wagons of the caravan drew together in a circle around the blazing fire. A handsome black coach had joined them that morning, but now it sat a good distance away. Apparently its occupant would not deign to join his fellows. Tannar couldn’t blame him.
There were five other youths heading for the Dirantyr Training Academé, huddling together as if they had never been more than a few miles from home before. While their government required two years of training at their Academé, it did not provide transport. Most students, like these, negotiated rides on the supply wagons that streamed westward every spring, in caravans for safety.
The Academé would provide a somewhat higher degree of education than what these children had learned at home, as well as training them in the basics of war-making. Even thought the plague fifty years ago had depleted Dirantyr’s population and army, it knew how to use resources, and how to train its children.
Those students who wanted to join the steadily-rebuilding army would be sent to different locations for further training. And for those who showed mage talents—well, half the teachers were mages of one kind or another, and all Possible Mages were earmarked almost from the first day of classes. If nothing else, Dirantyr had a higher level of magic in its population than almost any other realm, and was careful not to waste any of it.
But the five clustered around the bonfire didn’t look promising. (Good background information, just enough to tie things together but not enough to info-dump. Nice job.)
Tannar hated fire, but he could not be seen acting like he didn’t need its warmth. So he sat as far away from the dancing flames as he could while still being touched by the heat. Karenna seemed to have no more love for the element than he did. She was perched on the offending wine barrel directly across from him, watching the flames with a definite air of distrust. The man next to her was scarred and carrying a sheathed sword—apparently some kind of guard for the caravan. He offered her some cheese, and she turned to accept it. As soon as he saw her face he started, dropping the cheese to the muddy ground. “You’ve got Gypsie Eyes!” he exclaimed. Tannar tensed.
“It’s just a fluke!” Karenna shouted above the rising din. “My father had green eyes and my mother had blue, that’s all!” The group around her still looked skittish. “I’m not a Gypsie,” she insisted. Slowly they settled down, but all of them gave the girl a wide berth. She looked around at her suddenly distant companions. With a sigh, she stared at the fire. (Hmm...somehow I feel like this should be a bit more descriptive. What was her expression when she cried, "It's just a fluke!" What did her voice sound like? Was she growling, whispering shakily? Did she snarl or snap? Again, just some ideas.)
Tannar had learned the price of compassion; the bands around his wrists spoke volumes about the folly of pity. And yet he felt sorry for her. Inwardly berating himself for his stupidity, he caught her gaze. She glanced up at him, her expression wary. He smiled and, for an instant, let his eyes glow with their natural cerulean brilliance.
* * *
Karenna lay in the wagon, pretending to be asleep. She heard Tannar’s breathing, steady and low, but there was something artificial about it. It sounded as if he had only ever watched other people sleep. She opened her eyes a slit.
“Having trouble sleeping?” he asked. Karenna’s heart lurched in surprise.
“Having trouble yourself?” she growled.
He shrugged. “I’m not tired.”
No, of course you’re not, she thought. I haven’t seen you slept for the past two nights in a row. Why should this night be any different? The wagon wasn’t moving. The driver, at least, had the usual human requirements for rest. Karenna sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. It was dark, outside and in, and the thin layer of wagon canvas and the homespun weave of her dress did little to stave off the spring chill. She shivered.
He cocked his head to one side. “Are you cold?”
Karenna bit back the urge to snap. “Yes.”
Tannar slipped off his dark cloak and passed it across to her. Karenna let her fingers explore the garment. The fabric was soft wool lined with something that felt like silk. Her adopted mother was a weaver, and so she knew the world of fabric inside and out, but she refused to believe that a boy with a silk-lined cloak would travel to the Dirantyr Training Academé in a rickety wagon. She wrapped it around herself, feeling the smooth fabric against her skin. Definitely silk.
“Thank you,” she said.
Again, the silhouette shrugged. “You can keep it if you like.”
Karenna gaped. “You’ve got to be joking.”
Tannar did not answer for a long time, and Karenna got the impression that he was staring at her again. She folded the cloak more tightly around herself, aware for the first time how small the space between them was. “What?” she snapped.
He shook his head slightly. “Nothing,” he said, his voice softer than she had ever heard it. “Sorry for staring…yes, go ahead and keep the cloak, I don’t need it.” With that he lay down and rolled over so he wasn’t facing her. Karenna watched him for only a moment before doing likewise.
* * *
High in the mountains north of Dirantyr stood a castle. Most of it was carved from the mountain behind it, and its spines jutted up to pierce the sky with more malice than any mountaintop. Its mistress was in her study, pouring through the leather-bound tomes as she was always doing. Her son, the only other occupant, sat at a magnificent piano in his bedroom. The ivory keys of the instrument glowed in the light of the roaring fireplace and the polished black surface gleamed. His fingers danced across the keys, coaxing the piano into song. The music echoed around the high, vaulted ceiling above him and through every room of the deserted palace.
His eyes were closed as he played, his whole body swaying with the force of the music. When the last note died away, he rubbed his eyes and opened them. Palest blue, they stared out sightlessly at room around him. Avarn stood, keeping one hand on the top of the piano, and listened. He could just barely hear it, the sound of another’s heartbeat, the sound that had constantly filled his mind for the past six years. It was faint now, and very far away, but it was still there. Slowly he smiled, and felt his way to his favorite chair next to the fire. Sitting down, he picked up a slim book and leafed through it until he came to his bookmark. He could feel the slight texture of the ink on the thin pages, but Tannar had left before they’d finished it. (Ooh, interesting. I didn't know he was blind...)
He sighed and gently closed the book, setting it carefully aside. His eyes gazed unfocused into the fireplace as the heartbeat lulled him into a dreamless sleep.
* * *
Tannar had been lying sleeplessly on his back when the howl rent the still night air. In an instant he was up and shaking Karenna. “Wake up,” he hissed.
She muttered something and rolled over. Scowling, he formed a handful of ice water and doused her.
She came up spluttering, “What in the name of—”
“Werebeasts,” he snapped. “Wolves, by the sound.”
For a moment she stared at him. “By Werenna.” (Again, description. How did she say this? What was the inflection in her voice? This is just a suggestion, but I like word pictures in my head. :) )
Again, he shook her “Get whatever’s in that bag of yours and have it ready to defend yourself. The horses will have woken with that howl; the others won’t be far behind.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to try to make sure that at least this wagon and horse survive to get us to the Academé.” He slipped out of the wagon; the horses whinnied when they saw him and pranced nervously away, tugging at the ropes that tethered them. Like him, they knew what approached. Then, in the eerie half-moonlight, he saw them; at least a dozen huge, wolf-shaped animals charging the caravan. Their leader was a big gray he-Wolf, with long, powerful legs and mad red eyes. He stared directly at Tannar and let loose a challenging howl.
There was no point in being subtle. Massive storm-clouds gathered quickly in the dark sky and a great gust of wind shoved at the Werewolves. The enormous he-Wolf snarled and, muscles bunching, leapt at him.
A concentrated beam of powerful blue-green light pierced the Werewolf’s chest, sending him sprawling in the thick mud.
Tannar glanced over his shoulder to see Karenna standing next to the wagon, her long brown hair streaming with water and her dress and cloak lashing back and forth in the driving wind and rain.
She held a wand.
* * *
Students and workmen alike rushed to the wagon nearest the center of the circle. Jataal watched them flock to him like chicks to be hidden under a hen’s wings, the Werebeasts drawing ever nearer. He sighed and climbed wearily down from the wagon seat where he had been dozing. “Get into my wagon, you’ll all fit.”
They obeyed without question, even the wagon-masters. Jataal was a battle mage, now a retired warrior and professor at the Academé. He was, moreover, half the reason it had been nearly five years since the last Werebeast attack.
So it was to be Wolves this time, was it? Nasty creatures they could be, he knew, with all the cunning of an animal, all the intelligence of a human, and all the knife-like teeth they could fit into a mouth. But nothing he couldn’t handle. Jataal wiped his rain-soaked hair back from his face and drew his sword, a blade as scarred as he. One of the lead Wolves snarled and leapt at him. Jataal sliced at him and the Wolf darted back, whining and licking a deep cut in its leg. The others approached more slowly.
Jataal swung his blade up into a defensive stance, droplets of water scattering from the tip. “Come on,” he growled, “it’s been awhile since I had a workout against live targets.”
* * *
Tannar caught his breath as a black she-Wolf howled over her fallen leader’s body and the rest of the pack converged on the heart of the caravan. Two other Werewolves—probably the leader’s other mates—stayed with her, and none of them grieved for long before converging on Tannar.
He leapt over them, splashing down into a puddle behind them. The three Wolves yelped and turned sharply, their claws digging into the muddy earth. Tannar waited until they’d reoriented themselves, then smiled and took off for the nearby bluff. Over the nearly fifty yards, they never once caught up with him. He came up short against the cliff wall and spun to face them, still grinning wildly.
With their murderous attention focused on him, none had noticed that Karenna had followed. She swept her wand across her body with a yell, the magic plowing a furrow in the ground just behind the Wolves’ back paws. The two smaller she-Wolves snarled and turned to face her. Karenna thrust as if she held a rapier, and a dart of blue-green light pierced one through the heart. The other circled, snapping at Karenna’s feet and moving too fast for the girl to get a clear shot.
Ignoring her pack-mate, the black bitch pounced on Tannar. Her superior weight shoved him into the mud. Snarling, she clawed at him and tried to bring her tooth-filed mouth around to connect with his neck. Tannar struggled, and either fury or desperation made the Wolf stronger than he’d anticipated. Cursing, he formed a dagger of ice in his left hand and stabbed deep.
She moaned and backed off him. Blood streamed from the wound, her scrabbling paws churning the sodden earth red with it. Tannar lay in the mud, still clinging to the impromptu weapon. He saw the instant of recognition flash behind her beast-like eyes. (Ooh, interesting...)
She howled the retreat and fled.
* * *
Jataal smiled, watching the last of the Wolves scamper off. One lay dead at his feet, and at least three others would die within the hour from their wounds. Not too bad for a man on the lee side of fifty years.
He stretched, cracking his back, and cleaned the length of his blade before sheathing it. It would probably need a good sanding later to remove the rust, but that wasn’t his main concern at the moment. “You can come out now,” he said to those cowering within the wagon. Slowly they emerged. Jataal did a quick headcount and frowned. Two missing. He glanced up, and saw a young woman with long brown hair trying to move into the group without attracting attention. His frown deepened. He looked around for the second absent youth. He could see a young man, near the cliff, moving as if dragging something out of sight.
Jataal’s senses were still in their combat-enhanced mode. As such, he could see what the boy was so carefully shoving into one of the cliff’s niches: two Werewolf corpses. The frown became a smile. That would be one worth watching. (Sorry, why would it be worth watching? *is confuzzled*)
* * *
Karenna knew she’d been lucky. Part of the cliff had been between them and the wagons, and the darkness and confusion of the attack had helped distract the workmen from the freak storm and flashes of magic. As the thunderhead dissipated, she realized that it was nearly dawn. Tucking her wand away inside her cloak, she slipped in among the other students. One of the men—the one who had seen her eyes last night—was checking each member of the caravan. His eyes locked with Karenna’s for an instant, and he smiled. “You all right, miss?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He nodded, still smiling, and moved on to check on the others.
“Quite the adventure,” said a voice from behind her.
Karenna turned to see a girl her own age with waist-length blonde hair and a fair complexion. She wore tight-fitting black trousers instead of a skirt and held a riding crop in one hand. All her clothes were black, though obviously cut from the most expensive fabrics and in the most fashionable styles. The girl smiled like a snake with a bird’s egg, and extended a gloved hand. “I’m Shana Liam, I’ve been riding in the coach.” Karenna took the hand gingerly, wondering if she was the bird’s egg. Shana’s smile told her she was. “I wanted to say thank you,” she said.
“For what?” asked Karenna.
“Why, for driving the Wolves away, of course.” Shana’s smile didn’t waver.
“I’m sorry,” said Karenna, easing away. “I think you must have—” She was interrupted by the arrival of Tannar, who glared openly at Shana.
“Who are you?” he demanded. Karenna never thought she would be so glad to see him.
The girl crossed her arms. “I’m Shana Liam. My father is Maraso Liam, advisor to the king.”
“How nice for you,” (Hehe, this seems to be his favorite comeback) said Tannar, as if she had told him her father was a common shopkeeper and not one of the most powerful men in Dirantyr.
Shana’s eyes narrowed, but the smile remained fixed in place. “And who, may I ask, are you?”
“You may not ask,” said Tannar, as he took Karenna’s arm and steered her away from the young woman. Once they were a safe distance away, he said, “Friend of yours?”
Karenna scowled. “I hope not.”
He smiled.
“So…” Karenna looked at him sideways. “That was some interesting weather back there.”
“So…” said Tannar without even glancing at her. “Those were some interesting flashes of light back there.”
Karenna said nothing, but smiled quietly to herself. |
Okay, comments:
I really, really like this. The characters are very nicely developed - Tannar is especially interesting. However, I think you are rushing into their relationship just a little too fast. I'd like to see another added scene, maybe - just before they get on the wagon, when they first see each other, or maybe a snippet of their lives before they head to the Academe. It just feels a little bit too hasty. They're such interesting characters that I want to know a little more about them personally before I learn about them together. Does that make sense?
Anyway, I think that's really all I have to critique. :D Looking forward to reading more!
P.S. I love the title!
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JFW1415
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| Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2008 9:01 pm Post subject: |
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Gryf! I have finally come to give you the promised critique – I'm so sorry about the wait.
Prologue
| Quote: |
| Instead their eyes were focused on the frail boy who sat nearest her. |
Add a comma after 'instead.' Usually you can ditch it, but you need to change up the structure from the first sentence.
| Quote: |
| His name was Avarn. He was their king. |
*Glee* Amazing, gryf. Just set up a tad of atmosphere, 'kay? Even if you have to make this two paragraphs, set up the things we notice right away – hot or cold, outside or inside, lots of people or just a few, sitting or standing, day or night, forest or meadow, etc.
| Quote: |
| They were even more afraid of her. |
I'd ditch the last sentence, and just let the previous one stand as a silent warning.
| Quote: |
| Karenna stayed quiet for a few moments, stroking the bird. “I don’t want you to go,” she said at last. |
I really need to feel her emotions here – let us know what he meant to her.
| Quote: |
| And I promise to never, never |
I think it would work better as 'never, ever forget you, Karenna Morn.'
Overall Comments
Even though this is third person and a prologue, you need to find us a buddy. Let us stand next to someone, see the world through their eyes. Right now I'm floating around, not knowing who I'm with, not feeling anything at all.
Especially this part:
| Quote: |
| Avarn and Karenna didn’t scatter. They obeyed the bell only when it suited them. Instead they went together down to the docks, where they walked along the riverside until they came to the place where the fishermen dumped their garbage. There were gulls there, hundreds of them, calling and screaming and fighting over scraps and half-rotted fish skeletons. Avarn gave a call in their own language, and one of the gulls fluttered over to him. This gull flew badly, his recently-broken wing jerking as he flapped. Harassed and scrawny, he scoffed down the crust of bread that Avarn offered him. |
Who am I with there? No one.
All I mean is to do things like letting us watch Avarn out of Karenna's eyes, let us feel her emotions and only see the outward signs of his (or vice versa.) Make sense?
Chapter One
| Quote: |
| There was something about her eyes. |
That last sentence feels like it was just thrown in there – any way to make it flow better?
Do you mean 'even though'?
| Quote: |
| “It’s just a fluke!” Karenna shouted above the rising din. “My father had green eyes and my mother had blue, that’s all!” The group around her still looked skittish. “I’m not a Gypsie,” she insisted. Slowly they settled down, but all of them gave the girl a wide berth. She looked around at her suddenly distant companions. With a sigh, she stared at the fire. |
That was… random. Let us see this – feel it. Tannar is basically our MC right now – what's he think of this? Yes, we see some in the next paragraph, but what's his initial reaction?
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| I haven’t seen you slept |
Sleep, not slept.
| Quote: |
| “Get into my wagon, |
Semi-colon rather than a comma, methinks.
Overall Comments
Hm… not too shabby.  Just a few things I want to comment on:
Setting the World
*Points to Sam* I echo her.
Atmosphere
This is just the things you notice right away, as I said waaaaay up there during the prologue. Honestly, I can't see your characters, simply because I don't know where they are. Is it night? Pitch-black, or is the moon full? A thick forest or a clearing? Lots of people, or just three or four?
History
Karenna seems fine, but Tannar really bugs me. He was just thrown in there without warning, which is all right, but he was never given a meaning. Who is he? Don't tell us everything, but give us a little information. You spent more time on the teacher than him!
Eh, my brain's still being stupid, so I doubt this is very helpful. O.o This isn't too bad, but you do need more details and atmosphere. Some stories can survive without it, but this one can't.
PM me for anything, including more critiques. Maybe by then my mind won't be on vacation mode?
Oh – and add some emotions and reactions.
~JFW1415 |
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In response to hearing my new story idea: "Aunt April": Oookaaay. You are one sick little puppy aren't you? |
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| Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2008 12:06 am Post subject: |
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As soon as I read the first paragraph I was hooked and I believe it is because you characterized the boy without even mentioning his name or using dialogue. The same for the girl. There si a definitely appeal to children who are taken just as seriously as adults in this, even having ranks.
" Her dark locks hung in front of her face, hiding her eyes. But all of them knew what her curtain of brown hair hid."- I think this is too much description and basically says the same thing twice. I would take out "brown" or take out 'dark"
-calling and screaming and fighting over scraps and half-rotted fish skeletons.- great imagery
he scoffed down the crust of bread that Avarn offered him.- I think you want "scarfed"
She said she didn’t know who my father was but she was lying.”- comma after "was"
The prologue was really touching, especially for such a brief scene. You established the depth of their friendship very well, and set the stage for their further characterization.
“I’m Karenna Morn,” she said, snapping him out of his study of her.
“How nice for you,” he replied.- LOL! I definitely like your style and the subtle humor. I think your writing is very well developed and as solid as most books I would find at a store.
Even thought the plague fifty years ago had depleted Dirantyr’s population and army,- though rather than thought
Overall, this was an excellent piece of work and I would certainly read more. |
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| Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2008 11:15 pm Post subject: |
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| Yet again given a make-over as a result of your wonderful critiques! I'd really appreciate any extra feedback that previous editors could give me on the changes. Also, I'll be posting a synopsis of Gypsie Eyes soon, so for those of you who don't mind spoilers and would like to help me out with this critical part of the publishing process, I would be most grateful! |
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"I would take the song of the swan as my entertainment, the cry of the gannet and the call of the curlew in place of human laughter...storms would pound the rocky cliffs whilst the tern, icy-winged, answered them..." ~The Seafarer, 10th century |
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TL G-Wooster
boh
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| Posted: Tue Aug 05, 2008 1:30 pm Post subject: |
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| Quote: |
| But for now they scattered back to town, called home for lunch by the tolling of the town square’s bell tower. |
This is very nitpicky, but perhaps you could mention that the bell is ringing before you say that they’re going home. Just so that it doesn’t come so suddenly, you know?
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| Instead the two friends ambled for a time in the field, Karenna picking flowers to stick in her thick hair and Avarn studiously correcting the storyteller’s lies. |
I don’t know, should that be “into”?
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| “She made the Elementars sound like monsters,” he said, crossing his arms in frustration. “And how, by Werenna, did she come up with the idea that Gypsies are inherently below humans?” |
I think if you changed this to, “for Werenna’s sake” it might sound more natural.
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| Eventually Avarn declared it was time to return to town, and they went together down to the docks. |
I really don’t know why this sentence feels wrong, only it does. Is there a reason why this scene started in the meadow, and not down by the docks in the first place? I thought it did in the earlier versions, and personally, I think it would be smoother if you had kept it like that. Their being in the meadow isn’t desperately necessary -- nothing happens there that couldn’t happen elsewhere.
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| Avarn gave a call in their own language, and one of the gulls fluttered over to him. This gull flew badly, his recently-broken wing jerking as he flapped. |
The last sentence especially is awkwardly worded. Perhaps you could reword to something like, “Avarn gave a call in their own language, and one of the gulls fluttered over to him, its recently-broken wing jerking it about in the air”. That still doesn’t feel right. >_< It’s the “as he flapped” that does it.
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| He smiled. “My parents aren’t my real parents.” This was a well-known fact; the two people who had raised him were an elderly leather-merchant and his sister, both kind but fading people. |
It’s very reassuring that it’s a well known fact that a merchant and his sister can’t be parents… 
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| “Neither are mine,” she rebuffed. |
I think “retorted” would work better here.
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| He shifted his gaze back to the gull. “I think,” he said softly, “I think there may well be something different about me. I think that I may not be here much longer.” |
Uggghhh. Even very bright kids do not talk like that. I don’t think ANYONE talks like that, really.
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| At her cry the gull squawked and threatened to fly off. |
“If you don’t shut up, I’ll fly away and never come back, and then you’ll be sorry!” Ahem… perhaps show the gull’s actions so it doesn’t sound quite so anthropomorphic.
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| “Why can’t you stay here, my parents can keep you, or you can hide with the gulls and tell them to attack anyone but me who comes near. Or we could—” |
Question mark instead of a comma. I think I see the effect you’re trying to make, but a question mark would still be better.
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| He held up a hand, and his eyes were serious. “Karenna,” he soothed, “I won’t be gone forever.” |
I think it would be more realistic (and character whatsiting if we’re being clever) if he did something else with his hand. Put it on her shoulder, perhaps.
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| “Of course you will,” he said. “I promise. She’ll teach me to be a magician, like she said, and then I’ll come back to you. I promise, Karenna.” |
Do you need that comma?
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| “Yes. And she says that’s why I can talk to gulls and things, because I have an afin…an affin-i-ty for them, for water and air things. She has an affin-i-ty for fire things.” |
This is realistic dialogue, which is why the earlier “I think there may well…” is so jarring.
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| Karenna considered. “But what if, once you’re a magician, she locks you up in a tower so you can’t be a better magician than her?” |
Imho, it would be more realistic if Karenna offered several scenarios, so it doesn’t come across as implausible. Here it’s like you’re saying, “Way hay, nasty tower time ahead!” whereas if you have several different options, it’s more like she’s actually thinking and considering the possibilities: “But what if, once you’re a magician, she locks you up in a tower or puts you in a dungeon or has someone kidnap you or something so you can’t be a better magician than her?”
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| He thought about this for a moment. “Well then I’ll send a gull to come and get you and bring you to me, so you can free me from her and we can stop whatever evils she’s doing together.” |
I’m never sure in speech like this whether you need a comma or not. It looks incomplete without it, but you don’t say it like there is a comma.
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| Avarn smiled. “Yes, in all the best stories. But you have to promise to follow the gull when I send him.” |
Bad dialogue alert. Unrealistic for a kid. Just say, “Yes, like in the stories.”
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| Karenna clasped her hands to her heart. “I promise.” |
I think you can get away with this. It’d be different if it was a boy, but a little girl… I think you can do it.
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| He put his hands over hers. “And I promise to never, never forget you, Karenna Morn.” |
Whereas here, I’m not sure. These are very deep waters, Watson.
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| Tannar watched the young woman as she slept, wondering idly how much damage a well-placed hailstone could do to that willowy body. He decided against it. |
These are at odds with each other. First he’s wondering how much damage a hailstone could do and then he’s discarding the idea of doing it altogether. The second phrase would be all right if he’d just been contemplating the possibility of throwing a hailstone at her, but he was wondering how much damage it could do. Savvy?
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| “I’m Karenna Morn,” she said, snapping him out of his study of her. |
This is a little abrupt, don’t you think? She’s suddenly introducing herself to this complete stranger without so much as a by-your-leave.
The last words are awkward. “His study of her”… perhaps you could make it something like, “snapping him out of his reverie” or “snapping him out of his study”.
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| “That’s it,” he said, waving his arms expansively. |
I get a mental image of a mad windmill Tannar… Why not just wave a hand expansively?
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| Finally Tannar gave up his intense study of her face, and the rain slackened off. |
… I’m assuming the two events are related? 
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| The wagon jerked, sending a wine barrel toppling down onto her. It pinned her, and she could hear the contents sloshing around as she struggled to move it. |
Too many “her”s and the second one would be better as, “pinned her down”. Wouldn’t there be a bit more “Ow ow ow ow ouch! Big barrel! Big ouchie here!”?
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| Most students, like these, negotiated rides on the supply wagons that streamed westward every spring, in caravans for safety. |
I think you could nix those commas and no one would get hurt. Reading it out loud there aren’t any commas.
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| Even though the plague fifty years ago had depleted Dirantyr’s population and army, it knew how to use resources, and how to train its children. |
This makes it sound like the plague knows how to use it resources and train its children. Children of the plague… sounds kind of cool, actually.
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| And for those who showed mage talents—well, half the teachers were mages of one kind or another, and all Possible Mages were earmarked almost from the first day of classes. |
“Were earmarked from almost the first day of classes” would sound better, I think.
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| As soon as he saw her face he started, dropping the cheese to the muddy ground. |
Aw, what a waste of cheese. 
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| Karenna sprang to her feet, holding out her hands. “Please,” she said above the sounds of surprise, “I’m not a Gypsie. I swear, I’m not.” |
I can’t think of another appropriate word to use, but “said” is just too tame here.
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| “Please,” she whispered, and they paused. This wasn’t normal Gypsie behavior, this timidity. |
I don’t know why, but I like this bit.
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| “Why are you so eager to step up in her defense?” shouted one of the hotter-headed men. |
I think this could be classed as “too formal dialogue”. “Why’re you so eager to defend her?” could work just as well.
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| He smiled and, for an instant, let his eyes glow with their natural cerulean brilliance. |
You’ve got a thing for eyes glowing.  Danteel being silver, Tannar being blue. You use the word “cerulean” a lot, and that always makes me think of House fanfics where the authors spend a lot time mooning over House’s eyes. Maybe just use a simple “blue” now and then?
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| Its mistress was in her study, pouring through the leather-bound tomes as she was always doing. |
“As she always did” would sound better.
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| The ivory keys of the instrument glowed in the light of the roaring fireplace and the polished black surface gleamed. |
The last bit about the polished black surface feels at odds with the first bit, like tacked on. You’ve gone on about the ivory keys and the roaring fireplace, and then this bit about the polished black surface gets jammed on the end. Perhaps make it two sentences? Or one, like, “The light from the roaring fire gleamed on the polished black surface and made the ivory keys glow with milky softness.” Or whatever.
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| The music echoed around the high, vaulted ceiling above him and through every room of the deserted palace. |
Duh the ceiling’s above him, you don’t need this bit.
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His eyes were closed as he played, his whole body swaying with the force of the music. When the last note died away, he rubbed his eyes and opened them. Palest blue, they stared out sightlessly at room around him. Avarn stood, keeping one hand on the top of the piano, and listened. He could just barely hear it, the sound of another’s heartbeat, the sound that had constantly filled his mind for the past six years. It was faint now, and very far away, but it was still there. Slowly he smiled, and felt his way to his favorite chair next to the fire. Sitting down, he picked up a slim book and leafed through it until he came to his bookmark. He could feel the slight texture of the ink on the thin pages, but Tannar had left before they’d finished it.
He sighed and gently closed the book, setting it carefully aside. His eyes gazed unfocused into the fireplace as the heartbeat lulled him into a dreamless sleep. |
I really like the atmosphere created in this chunk. Very peaceful and musing, poignant.
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| For a moment she stared at him. “By Werenna.” |
I think this might be better with a tag. “For a moment she stared at him. ‘By Werenna,’ she whispered.” And about the “by Werenna” - sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Here, I think it would be better to have something like, “Oh, Werenna.” If you think about how people blaspheme, hardly anyone says, “By God” now. In a situation like this, they’d say, “Oh my god.”
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| Again, he shook her “Get whatever’s in that bag of yours and have it ready to defend yourself. The horses will have woken with that howl; the others won’t be far behind.” |
Missing a full stop there. After “he shook her”.
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| Then, in the eerie half-moonlight, he saw them; at least a dozen huge, wolf-shaped animals charging the caravan. |
The “then” here feels wrong. You’ve been saying about the horses before, and now you say “then” like there’s been action before leading up to this. It has, in a way, but not the right way... I don’t know if that makes sense, but I’d take out the “then”.
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| Their leader was a big gray he-Wolf, with long, powerful legs and mad red eyes. He stared directly at Tannar and let loose a challenging howl. |
I’m not an expert on wolves, but I don’t think howling is particularly aggressive behaviour. I know these are Werebeasts and all, but still. Howling is so over used.
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| Massive storm-clouds gathered quickly in the dark sky and a great gust of wind shoved at the Werewolves. |
Awkward. Describe the wind a bit more, so it’s less dumping the info on our toes.
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Tannar glanced over his shoulder to see Karenna standing next to the wagon, her long brown hair streaming with water and her dress and cloak lashing back and forth in the driving wind and rain.
She held a wand. |
Now that must be a real advantage of fighting with someone who can command storms at will - you can look dramatic without conscious effort.
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| Jataal watched them flock to him like chicks to be hidden under a hen’s wings, the Werebeasts drawing ever nearer. |
The end is at odds with the beginning. You’re saying about the students and passengers being like chicks, and it’s a nice image and everyone’s enjoying it when you plunk down the fact about the wolves. Smoother transition needed.
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| Nasty creatures they could be, he knew, with all the cunning of an animal, all the intelligence of a human, and all the knife-like teeth they could fit into a mouth. |
“He knew” is awkwardly fitted in. You could take it out, or make it, “He knew exactly how nasty these creatures they could be…”
Those last words don’t feel right. “All the knife-like teeth they could fit into one mouth”? Idk, just change it.
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| Jataal wiped his rain-soaked hair back from his face and drew his sword, a blade as scarred as he. |
“As he was” would sound better.
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| One of the lead Wolves snarled and leapt at him. Jataal sliced at him and the Wolf darted back, whining and licking a deep cut in its leg. |
“Sliced at him” is awkward anyway.
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| “Come on,” he growled, “it’s been awhile since I had a workout against live targets.” |
A thing I’ve noticed is that there always has to be fearless dialogue in fights like this. It seems to have become a modern necessity. You know in Disney’s Robin Hood, during the final battle when the castle’s on fire and Robin’s fighting with the Sherriff? There’s no dialogue while they’re fighting, no smart comment or witty retort or threat. That makes the fight more intense, even for a Disney film. It feels more real and serious than the fights where everyone’s throwing smart-mouth insults at each other.
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| He leapt over them, splashing down into a puddle behind them. |
Nix, change, reword.
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| Snarling, she clawed at him and tried to bring her tooth-filed mouth around to connect with his neck. |
Duh she’s got teeth in her mouth, Birdie. This would be better reworded like, “Snarling, she clawed at him and tried to twist around to bite his neck.” That way you get rid of the “connect” and “bring around” which just bogs the whole thing down.
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| She moaned and backed off him. |
“Rolled off him” or “backed away” but “backed off him” sounds weird. #
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| The girl smiled like a snake with a bird’s egg, and extended a gloved hand. “I’m Shana Liam, I’ve been riding in the coach.” Karenna took the hand gingerly, wondering if she was the bird’s egg. Shana’s smile told her she was. |
Really like the snake/bird egg image here. ^_^ I think Shana’s dialogue would be better as two sentences, though.
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| She was interrupted by the arrival of Tannar, who glared openly at Shana. |
Is this passive voice? Either way, it would be better changed to more direct.
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| “How nice for you,” said Tannar, as if she had told him her father was a common shopkeeper and not one of the most powerful men in Dirantyr. |
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| “You may not ask,” said Tannar, as he took Karenna’s arm and steered her away from the young woman. |
Here, I think you’d be better off without the tag and just have Tannar’s action.
---
I think this was the bit you wanted looking over? If it is, then sorry it took so long in coming, but I lost the message. Either way, I don't think your edits were up to your usual standard, as they say. Several times your word order and repetition were most un-Gyr like. Either that, or my eyes have suddenly got a lot more glaring. 
Less is more, formal dialogue must be killed dead, repeating words is usually bad.
Happy tweaking! |
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lyrical_sunshine
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| Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2008 7:15 pm Post subject: |
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Ooh, you edited!
I really liked the added descriptions of the people's response to Karenna when they thought she was a Gypsie. It gives us some idea of what the Gypsies are and why they're so feared, and it made me curious to know more. Nice job.
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JFW1415
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| Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2008 8:21 pm Post subject: |
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Hey, gryf. I'm finally getting around to critiquing the future chapters, and I saw that this was editing. I figured I'd take another look, and hopefully actually be some help last time. I wasn't at my best last time, so hopefully this will be a lot more useful to you. xD
Prologue
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The children were not, as any casual observer would think, watching the storyteller. She Who's she? At first I assumed that it was one of the children, then maybe the storyteller… I had no way to know. Since you haven't defined who 'she' is yet, you need to be a little more clear. sat on a stump in the field west of the town, with the eleven of them arranged in a semicircle around her. But the children’s eyes were focused on the frail boy who sat on the grass nearest her. This sentence bothers me. You rambled a bit in the last one – but you made it work! – so my mind isn't on the fact that they weren't watching her. Therefore, starting with 'but' feels very odd and leaves me asking 'but WHAT?' He was the only one who did watch her and his pale blue eyes twitched in annoyance whenever she lied I think you need a little more of a space there, between 'watch her and his pale blue eyes…' They don't have much in common, and they don't seem to fit well together – I feel rushed when I read it. I'd reword a bit or add a comma or dash. Actually, I'd put a comma right after 'her,' and then another comma instead of the dash that follows this comment. —a judgment the children took to heart. They trusted him more than any adult, because he could talk to the gulls by the river-port and, as far as they were concerned, knew everything. I'd keep the gull-talking out for now. It just feels rushed – like you're throwing the information at me – and I completely lost my faith in you, since it doesn't FEEL like it's true. How can it be? I need to believe in this story a bit before you throw facts in like that. 'They trusted him more than any adult because, as far as they were concerned, he knew everything.' would work just fine. His name was Avarn. He was their king. *Claps* That's a great ending for this paragraph.
Sitting beside him in the summer meadow was his second-in-command, a tall girl named Karenna. She had curly brown hair that she refused to put into sensible braids. I'd ditch this. You show us in the next sentence, which shows us her personality, and just repeat it in this one by telling us the facts. It's like saying 'Her name was Karenna. She was five foot two, had dark blue eyes, and long brown hair.' Bo-ring. But the next sentence accomplishes the same thing while keeping us interested. (And you can slip in the whole sensible thing later on if you really want, or just have her act slightly defiant in the prologue because, if I remember correctly, she doesn't come back? Her dark locks hung in front of her face, screening her eyes as her fingers played idly with the long grasses. They were even more afraid of her. I've forgotten about the other kids at this point, so 'they' feels a little odd, and it forces me to think back too consciously.
Finally the lady finished her tale and gave them Right now I assume 'them' is simply Karenna and Avarn, because that's who we're talking about. Maybe show that she smiles at everyone? a lofty smile, unaware that she had been caught out in every single human-superiority lie. All the children knew the real story. Avarn had told them often enough, and he would tell them again tonight. But for now they scattered back to town, called home for lunch by the tolling of the town square’s bell tower.
Avarn and Karenna didn’t scatter, even when the storyteller glanced questioningly back at them as she made her own way home. She had yet to learn that Avarn and Karenna obeyed the bell only when it suited them.
Instead the two friends ambled for a time in the field, Karenna picking flowers to stick in her thick hair and Avarn studiously correcting the storyteller’s lies. “She made the Elementars sound like monsters,” he said, crossing his arms in frustration. “And how, by Werenna, did she come up with the idea that Gypsies are inherently below humans?” Karenna barely listened to him, she had head it so often before, but the familiar sound of his voice was an essential part of the day, like the warm sunlight and the fragrant field. Because you're telling us about HER actions, I kind of assume that she's speaking, which isn't good. XD Eventually Avarn declared it was time to return to town, and they went together down to the docks. So why's she listen? You told me she's rebellious, but is she only rebellious when he is? Does she follow him? You need to define her role a bit more. There they walked along the riverside until they came to the place where the fishermen dumped their garbage. There were gulls there, hundreds of them, calling and screaming and fighting over scraps and half-rotten fish skeletons. Avarn gave a call in their own language, and one of the gulls fluttered over to him. This gull flew badly, I think 'poorly' would sound better, considering the language you've been using. his recently-broken wing jerking as he flapped. Harassed and scrawny, he scoffed down the crust of bread that Avarn offered him. I don't get that description, at least not in the context of this sentence… what was the point of it?
Karenna smiled and stroked his head. The gull would have snapped at anyone else, but he knew Karenna. He knew that if he hurt her the boy with the water-like eyes would not feed him again. He was quite bright, for a gull.
At length, Avarn spoke, his earlier indignation gone. “Karenna,” he said quietly, “do you think there’s something wrong with me?”
She looked at her leader sharply; he had never said anything like this before. “No, of course not!”
He smiled. “My parents aren’t my real parents.” This was a well-known fact; the two people who had raised him were an elderly leather-merchant and his sister, both kind but fading people.
“Neither are mine,” she rebuffed.
He shifted his gaze back to the gull. “I think,” I think ellipses could be effective after that bit of dialogue. he said softly, “I think there may well be something different about me. I think that I may not be here much longer.”
“Why?” demanded Karenna.
“I saw a lady yesterday, a new lady. She had long black hair like mine and she said she was my real mother, that I was special, and that tonight, after the story, I must go away to stay with her and her husband.”
“Your father?”
Avarn shook his head. “No. She said she didn’t know who my father was but she was lying.”
"How do you know she's your real mother?"
Avarn gave her a half-smile. "Karenna, it's me."
Karenna stayed quiet for a few moments, stroking the bird. “I don’t want you to go,” she said at last, her words barely a whisper.
“I don’t want to go.” I don't like how similar this sentence is to hers – it sounds annoying. Reword, possibly?
“Then stay!” At her cry the gull squawked and threatened to fly off. “Why can’t you stay here, I'd put a question mark after that and start a new sentence at 'my'. my parents can keep you, or you can hide with the gulls and tell them to attack anyone but me who comes near. Or we could Why'd you switch to past tense? She was saying 'can' and now she's saying 'could', which sounds annoying and unrealistic. Not many people mess up tenses while they speak, though they mess up a lot of other things. —”
He held up a hand, and his eyes were serious. Maybe try 'He held up a hand, his eyes serious.' for effect? “Karenna,” he soothed, “I won’t be gone forever.”
“I’ll never see you again.” She was close to tears, but she fought them back.
“Of course you will,” he said. “I promise. She’ll teach me to be a magician, like she said, and then I’ll come back to you. I promise, Karenna.”
“Is she a magician?” Karenna knew how rare that particular class of magic user was, Are there more kinds of magic users? This needs to be cleared up soon, even if not in the prologue. and the thought of Avarn as one made sense to her.
“Yes. And she says that’s why I can talk to gulls and things, because I have an afin…an affin-i-ty for them, for water and air things. She has an affin-i-ty for fire things.” So how can she teach him if she uses a different kind of magic? And what's with him not being able to say the word - it contradicts his normal dialogue.
Karenna considered. “But what if, once you’re a magician, she locks you up in a tower so you can’t be a better magician than her?” …Is this common there? Clear it up a bit, 'cause it just sounds like a fairytale at the moment.
He thought about this for a moment. “Well then I’ll send a gull to come and get you and bring you to me, so you can free me from her and we can stop whatever evils she’s doing together.”
She liked the thought. “Like they do in the stories?”
Avarn smiled. “Yes, in all the best stories. But you have to promise to follow the gull when I send him.”
Karenna clasped her hands to her heart. “I promise.”
He put his hands over hers. “And I promise to never, never forget you, Karenna Morn.” For the last few bits of dialogue, you've had narrative right before it, which got annoying. Change it up a bit – ditch the narrative, put it after, something. |
Overall Comments
I still want more description. I don't feel like I'm there – I can't feel the heat of the sun or the kids bumping into me or the soft grass beneath my feet or see where they are! I feel detached from the story.
I'll do chapter one then give you a more in-depth overall…
Chapter One
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Tannar watched the young woman as she slept, wondering idly how much damage a well-placed hailstone could do to that willowy body. He decided against it. A solitary hailstone in the middle of spring would be suspicious. Moreover, he had been given specific instructions as to her safety. As he continued to watch her, scratching at the bronze bands around his wrists, he decided he didn’t really want to hurt her. He just wanted her to never have been born. Maybe say '…he decided he didn't really wish to hurt her; he just wished she had never been born.' That way you still get the repetition, but the next sentence isn't so awkward. Also, a semi-colon works better there. XD
The wagon they were in trundled along in its caravan, the ground beneath the wheels growing muddy from the mounting rainstorm. The water dripping through the canvas overhead woke her and she started, drawing her bag closer to her body. He couldn’t stop staring at her face. There was something about her eyes. That last sentence is too choppy.
“I’m Karenna Morn,” she said, snapping him out of his study of her.
“How nice for you,” he replied. She had stopped looking directly at him. …When was she? That's kind of an odd description.
“What’s your name?” she asked. “Sorry to be forward, but you joined three days ago and I still don’t know it.”
He crossed his arms. “Tannar.”
She waited, presumably for a surname. He sighed. It wasn’t her fault, not really. And, to be fair, he had been the one to push Avarn to this. “That’s it,” he said, waving his arms expansively. “Just Tannar.”
“Doesn’t that mean Windstorm?”
He blinked. “How do you know Elemental?”
Her cheeks reddened, but not out of embarrassment. She averted her gaze. “I know a few words.”
He watched her with renewed focus. Maybe there was something special here. Avarn hadn’t mentioned any mage talents. Of course, Avarn hadn’t mentioned the eyes either. Tannar settled back, scratching at the flesh around his wristbands again. This might be interesting after all. Maybe show where he settled back to? Like, against the… canvas? 'cause I thought he laid down, so the next bit sounded odd, like you went back in time to when he was staring at her.
* * *
Karenna found it difficult to avoid his probing stare, and the more he tried to lock eyes with her the tighter she clutched her bag. The comforting shape of the wooden box within calmed her. Finally Tannar gave up his intense study of her face, and the rain slackened off. Ditch the finally. You use it too much. Plus, these two things have nothing to do with each other – rain and not staring so much? You can do better than that.
The wagon jerked, sending a wine barrel toppling down onto her. It pinned her, and she could hear the contents sloshing around as she struggled to move it. The rough wood of the barrel scraped her hands and the smell of wine made her want to gag. And… what? It would be heavy, right? But I feel nothing. Bring me closer, let me feel the weight on my chest!
Tannar watched her for a moment, then leaned forward and shifted the barrel with little discernable effort. Evil much? I know he hates her, but you need to remind us of this, otherwise it sounds odd – who just sits there while a BARREL of WINE is on someone?? For an instant he was above her, his soft black eyes looking directly down into hers. Karenna could have sworn there was something invisible and otherworldly behind those eyes. And then he was back on his side of the wagon, and she shook her head, dislodging such fancies.
She sat up, still clutching the bag. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, and a part of her wished that he would. Too sudden for a crush. Let her be more confused with her feelings, more defiant. Maybe let her just keep peaking at her, seeing if he's looking, then force herself to stop? But the wishing sounds too quick. With the strength born of long practice, she shut the door on such emotions and settled back to sleep.
* * *
That night the three wagons of the caravan drew together in a circle around the blazing fire. A handsome black coach had joined them that morning, but now it sat a good distance away. Apparently its occupant would not deign to join his fellows. Tannar couldn’t blame him.
There were five other youths heading for the Dirantyr Training Academé, huddling together as if they had never been more than a few miles from home before. While their government required two years of training at their Academé, it did not provide transport. Too sudden a change in subject. Most students, like these, negotiated rides on the supply wagons that streamed westward every spring, in caravans for safety.
The Academé would provide a somewhat higher degree of education than what these children had learned at home, as well as training them in the basics of war-making. Even though the plague fifty years ago had depleted Dirantyr’s population and army, it knew how to use resources, and how to train its children.
Those students who wanted to join the steadily-rebuilding army would be sent to different locations for further training. And for those who showed mage talents—well, half the teachers were mages of one kind or another, and all Possible Mages were earmarked almost from the first day of classes. If nothing else, Dirantyr had a higher level of magic in its population than almost any other realm, and was careful not to waste any of it.
But the five clustered around the bonfire didn’t look promising.
Tannar hated fire, but he could not be seen acting like he didn’t need its warmth. So he sat as far away from the dancing flames as he could while still being touched by the heat. Karenna seemed to have no more love for the element than he did. She was perched on the offending wine barrel directly across from him, watching the flames with a definite air of distrust. The man next to her was scarred and carrying a sheathed sword—apparently some kind of guard for the caravan. He offered her some cheese, and she turned to accept it. As soon as he saw her face he started, dropping the cheese to the muddy ground. “You’ve got Gypsie Eyes!” he exclaimed. Tannar tensed. Okay… no offense here, but that was awful. First, you completely switched subjects, making both parts unimportant. Link them smoother, make the cheese man a new paragraph, make it seem less odd. And bring us into the scene! I see absolutely nothing here – the scene is flat and boring.
Karenna sprang to her feet, holding out her hands. “Please,” she said above the sounds of surprise, “I’m not a Gypsie. I swear, I’m not.” I'd ditch the comma after 'swear.' And up the surprise! What are people doing? Do they just sit where they are and gasp? Bo | | |
