z

Young Writers Society


Lunar Glow: Prologue



User avatar
46 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 240
Reviews: 46
Sat Dec 17, 2011 10:46 am
emilybrodo says...



Spoiler! :
Hope you enjoy the beginning of my book, thought it needed a prologue. I wrote it in a day and although I've repeatedly edited it probably has many mistakes, so advice would be awesome!

Jasko Rueben had fallen asleep while researching a magical artefact that a customer had quested for earlier. His head sunk into his desk, many ancient books lay open with pages full of sigils and long forgotten languages around him. His shadow was cast against the wooden walls of his bedroom study. The room was silent but the streets below were filled with howling sirens that darted between the sounds of engines of cars speeding down a nearby motorway.
Rueben’s brown jacket wasn’t enough to shield him from the chilly gust of wind that suddenly hauled him out of sleep. Being the middle of winter in Paris, having any windows or doors open was a ludicrous idea. He blinked through tired eyes, puzzled as to why the balcony doors had opened, the room was clear of any trespassers. Stumbling sleepily he made his way to the balcony and peered down, only seeing the dark streets below with some lonely parked cars.
Frowning, Rueben went back inside and began to lock the doors, satisfied with the click of the locks. He turned around, and gasped in horror at an awfully familiar man who smiled at his shock. Rueben slinked into the doors, trying desperately to get as far away from the powerful man as possible. Immediately, Rueben knew what the man was there for, but he couldn’t let the man win.
“Hello, sir,” he stuttered in French, “here for a purchase?”
“You know what I’m here for Rueben,” the man said, his face covered by shadows, “don’t play games with me.”
“I swear! I don’t have it!”
“I’m not stupid Rueben, I’ve searched everywhere and I’ve asked so many people. Some of them died for my wishes, don’t make that you too,” the man reached inside his coat and took out a blade still in its silver sheath, he pulled it out and began waving it in Rueben’s face, returning the sheath to his pocket. Rueben kept his eyes on the tip of the blade, daring not to blink as fear glinted in his eyes. “A little birdy told me you have it here. Now I’m not bothered to rip this place apart to find it, but if you don’t tell me of its location, I may just rip you apart.”
“Please! I beg of you! Leave me be! I don’t I have it! I don’t have it!” Rueben was on the edge of passing out. The man sighed and within a swift movement had stabbed the blade into Rueben’s shoulder. Rueben gasped, pain seared down his left arm. A patch of dark colours grew in a circle through the blade.
“Where is it? I know you have it,” the man hissed.
“You’ll never know, I am what’s between you and the book and I refuse to tell,” Rueben teased, finding his courage. The man twisted the knife, and Rueben dropped to his knees, screaming. His left arm flopped by his side uselessly while his right gripped the man’s wrist, attempting to force him to stop. The man squatted before him.
“Tell me where it is, or I’ll take your life instead,” the man said, clenching his jaw in anger.
Rueben continued to assuage his fear, he looked into the shadow at where he thought the man’s eyes were. Sweat began to swell through his skin “no!” His lips began to tremble, “you deserve this!” Abruptly he let go of the man’s arm, then a flame burst to life in his palm. Before the man could react Rueben shoved the flame in the man’s face who roared in fury. The man smothered the flames with the sleeves of his coat. He then grabbed Rueben’s collar, and sent him smashing into the opposite wall six metres away. Before Rueben could blink the man was standing over him again, he watched in despair as the fresh burns were swallowed by new skin.
Rueben’s heart was beating so fast with fear that he shook with every beat. The man punched him in the face, Rueben spat warm blood. He moaned as the blade was pulled from his shoulder and the man pulled him to his feet, forcing him against the wood with the blade to his throat. The liquid tickled his skin.
“It could have been so much easier for you Rueben, but it’s too late. Here we are, at the end of your life,” the man chuckled.
“Kill me and you’ll never get the book,” Rueben snapped, “you’re a fool! You always have been!”
“You’ll die either way, but here’s the deal, you tell me where the book is, and I’ll let your precious darling go.”
“You leave her out of this!” Rueben hissed.
“I think it’s far too late for that,” the man waved his hand at a door which creaked open, to Rueben’s despondency, the door revealed a girl who was trembling in the hallway. She had been peeking through the crack, watching the fight with wide eyes.
“Run Delilli! Run!” Rueben yelled, the nine year old turned and sprinted for the stairs, but it was too late. A rope of black smoke shot from the man’s hand and whipped around the girl’s ankle. She tumbled to the floor and was vigorously dragged back towards the man. Her nails dug into the wooden floor splintering her skin causing her to clench her teeth, but she couldn’t hold grip. The man laughed in amusement as the girl rolled onto her back and clawed at the smoke, to find it wouldn’t come off. She was then lifted into the air, her arms flailing about.
“Let her go!” Rueben repeatedly shouted, the man neglected his cries. Instead he let the black smoke devour her body.
Delilli was being strangled, the smoke crawled down her nose and fried her lungs. “Help me, Jasko,” she choked as she gagged.
“Please let her go! I beg of you! I beg of you! It’s in my safe behind the portrait! The code is one five three zero, just let her go!” Rueben pleaded nodding his head towards his right.
The man smiled, “thank you Rueben,” he simply said. The girl dropped to the floor, the grey mist escaped from her lungs and she engulfed fresh air. The man was not done with Rueben yet though, he slowly drew the blade deeply against his throat and a fresh stream of blood poured out of the new wound. He let go of Rueben who sunk to the floor choking up blood, and stepped over the startled Delilli. Rueben grasped his neck as he watched the man rip the portrait from the wall and enter the combination of the enchanted safe. With a laugh of triumph, he pulled out the book. Its jewels that stuck out of the hard cover twinkled in the desks light, it appeared a thousand years old. He tucked the book under his coat and strode towards the balcony. The doors began to crack and groan and suddenly they exploded into splinters sending glass shooting through the air.
“Thank you again for the help,” the man sneered, and then he leapt over the railing into the streets below.
The girl jumped to her feet and ran to the bed. She ripped a pillow out of its case and brought the case to Rueben. Delilli thrust it around his neck and brought his hand to it, making him push it into the wound to stop the blood. She then sprinted over to the phone and frantically dialled a number. When the person on the other end picked up, she began talking as calmly as she could, “you have to get here now mister,” she cried in English, “Diabolos cut Jasko’s throat, he has the book of portals!” The man on the other end didn’t say a word, he hung up immediately.
Delilli ran back to Rueben and knelt by his side, “they’re coming Jasko. Please don’t die,” she whispered. He couldn’t stop what she did next as much as he liked to, she reached inside her pants and took out a pocket and the blade clicked open. She pulled it across her wrist while biting her lip and poured the blood on the wounds. “I keep you alive Jasko.”
When the girl had been dropped off at his door step, Rueben had been thrilled. The basket was soaked and inside was a little baby, carefully wrapped in blankets. She appeared less than a week old. He had picked her up and dashed inside, her lips were blue and her skin was purple. Not knowing how to be a father, Rueben panicked, and decided that the best thing to do was to put her in the warm bath. That’s how he learnt that babies couldn’t swim, which was his first lesson about being a father. As soon as the baby started thrashing wildly she flipped over and quick as a flash, Rueben swiftly picked up the crying baby, telling it that everything was ok. “There, there, Delilli,” and just like that, the girl had a name.

The girl knew that Rueben wasn’t her father, but her guardian, yet she loved him just the same. He trained her in the world of magic, and discovered that her blood had the ability to preserve life, she knew this too.
Rueben smiled weakly at her, remembering their times together he stroked her hair with his bad arm. His throat burned and his shoulder stung. He couldn’t die, for her sake. He had to make it so he could look after her and protect. If his voice box hadn’t been slashed open, he would have told her that he loved her.
By the time Rueben’s friends arrived, most of his blood was on the floors and walls, his skin was deathly white. Delilli sobbed as she desperately shook Rueben, trying to wake him up. They pulled her away from him, and began to work on his injuries, pumping magic blood into his body as they went. All they had in mind was saving him. The book would have to wait.
Last edited by emilybrodo on Mon Dec 19, 2011 12:45 am, edited 2 times in total.
“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.” - Albert Einstein

The game

Free reviews here
  





User avatar
522 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 18486
Reviews: 522
Sun Dec 18, 2011 12:55 pm
View Likes
Lavvie says...



Hi there Emily! 'Tis Lavvie as you requested. Sorry it took so long to get to this (a few hours), but I'm a fantastic procrastinator and distractions tend to get the best of me.

This is a really intriguing prologue! I would totally like to read more when/if you post the next chapters :D

I really felt like you were using a thesaurus for some words. It's obvious especially when they aren't used in the correct manner. Because it's also not part of your regular vocabulary, it feels weird within your own prose and it sticks out like a sore thumb which isn't so great. Be proud of the vocabulary you possess and when the words actually work, it's then that you can use the ones you have hidden up your sleeve. Don't feel like you need fancy words to make a more interesting story because that's definitely not true. It's different kinds of styles of writing and yours doesn't require words hardly used in the English language! Certain things, like your use of 'torpid' in the first sentence, just don't fit. It's a mismatched puzzle piece.

I wasn't a huge fan of how suddenly the mood between this man (whom we later find out is named Diabolos?) and Rueben changes so drastically. Right off the bat, we know they don't have the friendliest relationship and it's rather cool. However, all of a sudden, Diabolos is threatening him with a knife and using his attachment to his daughter against him. It's a very sudden change in the atmosphere that I originally thought stable, yet still sort of walking-across-egg-shells. And suddenly, it's completely pit-of-fire-BEWARE. It clashes. You may want to be more explicit in the fact that Diabolos is a deadly person whereas he comes off first as one to be wary of but not completely afraid of. There is a big difference.

Thirdly, I find it hardly realistic that Rueben would live after a slice to his throat. I'm not an expert with killing techniques, but from what I gather by movies, once someone is sliced across the throat, they usually die in seconds, if not immediately. This clearly did not happen to Rueben and then he's being saved by magic. Even with magic, it seems unlikely that he would survive. Don't most magical realms have this rule that resurrection can not be done or something? If Rueben must survive, you might want to make his wound less fatal-seeming and a little more realistic-so-he-can-live.

Anyway. This is really interesting.

If you have any questions whatsoever about this review, please don't hesitate to shoot me a PM.

Yours,
Lavvie


What is to give light must endure burning. – Viktor Frankl
  





User avatar
46 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 240
Reviews: 46
Mon Dec 19, 2011 12:48 am
emilybrodo says...



Thanks for the review, this makes me feel so good about my writing.
One thing though, I don't exactly know what you mean in your second point, further explanations would be great.
Anyway, thanks again, from Em. XD
“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.” - Albert Einstein

The game

Free reviews here
  





User avatar
522 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 18486
Reviews: 522
Sat Dec 24, 2011 10:49 am
Lavvie says...



By my second point, I meant that it's a sudden change in how the two characters are treating each other. It's too sudden from sort of calm to all-out anger. Ease in and it'll also develop more intrigue.

Am I being clear? Sorry - figuring out the site and at near 3 in the morning, I'm not so coherent.

-Lavvie


What is to give light must endure burning. – Viktor Frankl
  








"The day, which was one of the first of spring, cheered even me by the loveliness of its sunshine and the balminess of the air. I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them, and forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy."
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein