Belda's dust

Prologue

Small ripples slowly glided up and down the beach, giving out little splash like sounds as they hit the crevices between the pebbles that ran the full length of the beach. That was, however, the only sound that could be heard on that particular night. The moon had refused to come out, leaving the sky to be dominated by huge looming clouds that threatened to break at any moment, yet did not release a single drop. The forest that started a few meters away from the beach was normally vibrant with life. This night, however, there was neither a shuffle, a tweet nor a snap form within in dense trees.

Out of the fog, a small one-manned boat appeared, moving slowly towards the shore. As it scraped up against the pebbles of the beach, the man in it looked around as if to examine the area. When he seemed content, he got up and out of the boat, then bent down to tie it to the nearest bolder.

“You’re late.”

The man looked up surprised and saw an old woman who was definitely not there before sitting on a huge bolder, quite close to the beginning of the forest. He shuffled towards her, an expression of pure discomfort fixed on his face. She had an odd eeriness about her that frightened him and there were rumors about the forest and its inhabitants.

“Random delays,” he muttered finally, looking down at the pebbles.

“Well, where is it?” Her voice was squeaky and dry, but probably the most disturbing thing about it was an odd eagerness that didn’t quite fit it.
He slowly put his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small box. She snatched the box out of his hand instantaneously and began to examine the exterior, rolling it around in her hands like a child with a new present.

“What is it?” He said finally, his curiosity overcoming his fear.

“All the blood that has been shed over this box!” she muttered, more to herself than in a response to his question. Suddenly she stopped examining it and lifted her face towards him. He turned his face way from her penetrating glare, fear creeping back into him. Out of instinct, he put his hand behind his back to reach for his dagger.

“Oh that won’t help you,” she whispered smiling. She had gone back to closely examining the box.

He pulled out his knife and hurled it towards her. It never reached its mark. In a second she was up. Green light sprung from beneath her fingertips, sending both him and the knife flying in the opposite direction.

The old woman got up and went to where his dead body was sprawled over the pebbles. She smiled absent mindedly as she tucked the box into her pocket and then, using merely one hand, dragged him towards the boat, as though he weighed less that a feather.Once he was secured in the boat, she pushed it off the shore and then walked back up to the forest, disappearing into the darkness behind the trees.


This story is the begining of something long, I hope, depending on what you think!!!

Quote:
This night, however,
This night, that particular nigh… Too much of night! You have beach repeated also, but that somehow doesn’t stand out as much.

Quote:
The man looked up surprised and saw an old woman (who was definitely not there before)
What are the () for?

Quote:
The forest, that started a few meters away from the beach, was normally vibrant with life.
Though I’m a comma fanatic, no commas here.

Quote:
She had an odd eeriness about her that frightened him and there were rumors about the forest and its inhabitants.
Hm… That sentence just… doesn’t flow right? I don’t know..

Quote:
She snatched the box out of his hand instantaneously and began to examine the exterior, rolling it around in her hands, like a child with a new present.
Box again? Last comma not needed.

Quote:
“All the blood that has been shed over this box!” She muttered,
Lower case ‘s’.

Quote:
He turned his face way from her penetrating glare,
Face again.

Quote:
“Oh that won’t help you,” She whispered smiling.
Lower case.

Quote:
She smiled absent mindedly
Tigether? I’m not sure, though.



Okay, so that’s it. It got me hooked, it was interesting. The story was well written, though maybe you should check Lilyy’s article about punctuation in dialogues. I hope you will continue,

-elein

I would definately like the views of more people, so everyone please read and tell me what you think!!

PS Thanks for the corrections eleinasari

Chapter 1

Azzia woke with a start and almost leapt up before realizing where she was. She pushed the large, heavy book that she had been reading off her lap and slowly stood up rubbing her eyes. For most people it was impossible to stand up straight in this part of the library. Azzia’s small, frail body however passed through easily. All her physical development had pretty much stopped when she was about twelve and there was little sign of her ever growing again

The central Palidon Library was probably the largest building in the entire city and could boast of having just about every book ever written. While empty-minded, educationally-driven youths swarmed into the library everyday to consume anything that they could find on Geology, sociology and just about every other kind of –ology, Azzia always visited the most rundown and rejected section of the library. A tiny corner dedicated to old myths and legends. Here, she had created a regular retreat for herself, an escape from the tedious formalities of society.

After slipping in a bookmark on her page, Azzia reluctantly shut the yellowing with age book and lifted it up to its place, struggling slightly under the weight. She then dusted herself, and walked as fast as she could towards the library door, in the hope that she wouldn’t be noticed. She was in luck. Other than a few degrading glares and some up turned noses, her departure was pretty much undisturbed.

The sun was still shinning brightly on the narrow, cobbled streets of middle Palidon, as Azzia stepped out from the dimly lit library. As usual, the street was packed with people; various merchants selling rare goods, vendors selling stolen goods and shop owners chasing vendors away from the front of their stores.

Being small and nimble, Azzia moved easily in between the bustling people. She hung her head low, her eyes following the trail of pebbles along the street, as she began her ascent towards upper Palidon, where her mistress lived.

Bang! Absent minded, she had walked straight into one of the vendors that littered the streets.

“I’m sorry!” Azzia exclaimed, bending down to help him pick up his collection of odd antiques, which had scattered over the street. He didn’t respond until had picked up his entire collection. She was surprised at how tall he was when he stood straight; he easily towered over everyone in the area. However, there was something odd about him that she just couldn’t place.

“Will you buy anything?” he whispered, almost reluctantly. She slowly lifted her face to meet his gaze, suddenly realizing what was so unusual. Everything about him was a strange red color and there was no defining lines to distinguish between one feature from the next; they just sort-of flowed into each other.

“Yes, I think I will,” Azzia replied after some thought, “What have you got?” The vendor looked from his antiques to her and then back again a few times. Finally, he pulled out a necklace with a green diamond on the end.

“It will help you find what you’re looking for,” he muttered.

“What am I looking for?” Azzia responded sarcastically, as she pulled the last two coins from the bottom of her purse. He did not offer her a response, but merely smiled as he handed the necklace over to her and in seconds he had disappeared into the crowd of people. It was only after he had left that she realized she had just spent the money that her mistress had given her for bread.

I’m really going to get it today she thought to herself as her stuffed the necklace into her pocket.

The crowds began to thin out as she moved closer to upper Palidon. This was to be expected as upper Palidon was inhabited by only the rich and was, therefore, the least densely populated in comparison to middle Palidon, the business and educational district of the city, and lower Palidon, where poor people lived. Upper Palidon was also situated right on the tabletop on the mountain, which the city had been built around.

Azzia sighed and braced herself for what was to come as she turned onto the path leading to the front door of her mistress’s house. She could already see the cook glaring out of the kitchen window at her.
******
He was changing again. He could feel it, like every organ in his body was in a slowly melting liquid state. He could sense his skin slowly sliding along to it new positions Two months earlier, he would never have thought that it could happen to him, then one morning he had woken up to find a totally different person staring back at him in the mirror. After that, there was no controlling it; at odd hours he would suddenly begin to change. At first it had only been into other human forms, however gradually he had began to change into all kinds of birds and beasts. Unable to explain this to his adoptive father, he had decided it was best to leave home.
When he sensed that the change was over, he leaned over to view his reflection on the water surface. A great, black, shaggy dog looked up at him.
Good he thought at least I’ll be welcome at home.
**************
Farmer Gram was working in one of his fields when he saw the big black dog came slowly lumbering towards him. He smiled, leaning over to pat it. He had to admit, in spite of himself, he rather liked the beast. It had become a friendly companion since his adoptive son had disappeared about two months earlier. Many of the other farmers that lived in that small town, suggested that he had moved up north to the great city of Palidon to make a living. Gram thought differently. While many of the other boys aspired to go north, his son had always looked to the south with interest, where a few dense trees marked the start of the Belda forest.

The dog nudged his arm and began to move towards the cottage at the other end of the field.

“You’re probably right,” Gram muttered looking up at the slowly forming clouds, “it’s going to be a rough night.”
**********
Azziz tossed and turned unable to fall asleep. Her whole body ached from the thorough beating she had received, when it was discovered that there would be no bread to accompany the evening meal. She finally decided that it was hopeless, got out of bed and lifted herself up onto the windowsill, where she had a good view of what was happening outside. It was fairly dark as there was no moonlight. Heavy dark clouds covered the sky, threatening to break at any minute. A huge storm was about to start.

A cat leapt up onto the other side of the windowsill and began to lick its paws. It suddenly lifted its paw and banged on the window. Feeling sorry for it, Azzia opened the window to let it get in, out of the brewing storm. Not one, but two identical cats jumped into the room.

“Wow, I thought we would have to suffer through that storm,” one of the cats said. Azzia leapt back away from where the two cats had settled on the small floor rug.

“You can talk!” she exclaimed.

“What is it with you humans and stating the obvious,” the same cat muttered sarcastically under its breath, “by the way we’re going to crash here tonight.” It was not a question but a statement. Azzia was about to question it further, when she heard movement outside the door and decided it was best to lie quite for a while. She lay down onto her bed with the intention of getting up after the shuffling outside her door had stopped, but as soon as her head touched her pillow, sleep hit her.
**************
Lady Lera, the mistress of the house, was examining her finances. She frowned slightly, looking for evidence of the sudden decrease in money; she was barely managing to make ends meet already. The house cook walked into the study carrying a pot of tea and cup.

“Cook, I need some sort of money to came in,” Lady Lera whispered unhappily, “what do we have to go by?”

“Not much really,” the cook responded, pouring some tea into the cup, “unless you want to sell the girl.” Lady Lera, looked down at the floor. So it finally come to that. After a while she muttered, “okay, the girl goes to the slave market tomorrow.”

"Azzia reluctantly shut the yellowing with age book."

Try "Azzizia reluctantly shut the book that was yellowing with age."

“You can talk!” she exclaimed.

“What is it with you humans and stating the obvious,” the same cat muttered sarcastically under its breath, “by the way we’re going to crash here tonight.”

Love it.

only had time to read the prologe i will read the rest later but it was good it grabs you. i liked it, keep writing it
smanda4

tzmanda wrote:Prologue

Small ripples slowly glided up and down the beach, giving out little splash like sounds as they hit the crevices between the pebbles that ran the full length of the beach. That was, however, the only sound that could be heard on that particular night. The moon had refused to come out, leaving the sky to be dominated by huge looming clouds that threatened to break at any moment, yet did not release a single drop. The forest, that started a few meters away from the beach, was normally vibrant with life. This night, however, there was neither a shuffle, a tweet nor a snap form within in dense trees.

Out of the fog, a small one-manned boat appeared, moving slowly towards the shore. As it scraped up against the pebbles of the beach, the man in it looked around as if to examine the area. When he seemed content, he got up and out of the boat, then bent down to tie it to the nearest bolder.

“You’re late.”

The man looked up surprised and saw an old woman (who was definitely not there before) sitting on a huge bolder, quite close to the beginning of the forest. He shuffled towards her, an expression of pure discomfort fixed on his face. She had an odd eeriness about her that frightened him and there were rumors about the forest and its inhabitants.

“Random delays,” He muttered finally, looking down at the pebbles.

“Well, where is it?” Her voice was squeaky and dry, but probably the most disturbing thing about it was an odd eagerness that didn’t quite fit it.
He slowly put his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small box. She snatched the box out of his hand instantaneously and began to examine the exterior, rolling it around in her hands, like a child with a new present.

“What is it?” He said finally, his curiosity overcoming his fear.

“All the blood that has been shed over this box!” She muttered, more to herself than in a response to his question. Suddenly she stopped examining it and lifted her face towards him. He turned his face way from her penetrating glare, fear creeping back into him. Out of instinct, he put his hand behind his back to reach for his dagger.

“Oh that won’t help you,” She whispered smiling. She had gone back to closely examining the box.

He pulled out his knife and hurled it towards her. It never reached its mark. In a second she was up. Green light sprung from beneath her fingertips, sending both him and the knife flying in the opposite direction.

The old woman got up and went to where his dead body was sprawled over the pebbles. She smiled absent mindedly as she tucked the box into her pocket and then, using merely one hand, dragged him towards the boat, as though he weighed less that a feather.Once he was secured in the boat, she pushed it off the shore and then walked back up to the forest, disappearing into the darkness behind the trees.


This story is the begining of something long, I hope, depending on what you think!!!

Nice! I love it. I read the whole prologue without even having to force myself to read it. It was a pleasurable read. Simple and straight to the point.

I loved your story concept too.

Looking forward to write alongside you in the fantasy forum. What you have wrote so far really puts my work to shame lol.

More please ^^

Andy

Well, I'm glad that people are enjoying reading this and thanks for the corrections.
More is definately coming!!

Chapter 2

Unwillingly Azzia was pulled from the deep slumber that had held her tired brain, and for the few seconds that followed, she tried helplessly to regain it.

“Azzia,” said a voice, which a minute latter she recognized to be the one that had woken her up. Reluctantly, she opened one eyelid and peeped out to find herself looking into the face of the house cook.. “Get up and get dressed quickly,” the old woman was saying, “I’ll leave this candle with you,” and then she was gone.

Azzia dragged herself out of her bed and, using the little light provided by the candle, she began to prepare herself for, what she did not know yet, would be a very log day. Suddenly she remembered the cats and looked over to where they had settled on the rug, but there was nothing. Concluding that it must have been a dream, she returned to dressing herself and in less than five minutes, the cook, or other wise known as miss Brak, had returned and began to hustle her out of the door.

“Where are we going?” Azzia asked sleepily, concealing a huge yawn with her hand. Miss Brek did not respond for a while and when she did, it was no more than a whisper, “you’ll find out soon enough,” she handed Azzia a orange and added, “here, eat this, you’ll need your strength.” Azzia was about to inquire further, when she silenced, by an annoyed sigh, and then beckoned along the still dark street.

The route they took was long and one that Azzia had never been along before so, as soon as it was light enough for her to see clearly, she entertained herself by observing the damaged that her been left behind by the storm and watching people move along the streets, clearing up the scattered rubble. Other than the destruction it had created, there was little evidence of there ever having been a storm; the sun was shining brightly through a pale blue sky and birds sang happily from tree branches.

“Is this all you’ve got?” A voice brought Azzia back to reality and she realized that they had stopped. Standing in front of her was a tall man, who would every so often peer down at her from under is spectacles, scrutinizing her with his beady eyes.

She glanced around in order to achieve some bearings on where she was, but as hard as she tried, she could not relate her surroundings to the Palidon that she knew. The area was by far the dirtiest she had ever been in. There were various fenced-around pens scattered in all directions, each packed with ten or more people. Unintentionally, her eyes connected with one of the numerous pairs, but no emotion was portrayed back; they were black and stared emptily back.

I’ve been here before

Huge men stood guard, one per pen. All carried a wipe and wore a fixed smirk, occasionally taking the liberty to torment the people they guarded. The sound of wipes being cracked could be heard in the distance, each followed by a desperate cry. A delayed but frantic thought suddenly hit Azzia as she finally realized where she was; I’m being sold. They had arrived at the biggest trading center for people, the slave market, where she was, undoubtedly, to be dropped off and sold later to a new master. She sent a desperate appealing look up at the woman who would be leaving her behind in a few minutes and muttered, “why?”

“I’m sorry Azzia,” was the only response she received, but it was to late. Miss Brak had already received the money for her and was turning to walk away. Azzia let out a cry and tried to run after her, but a huge arm caught her and began to drag her towards one of the pens.

************

The old man was sitting in the corner of the bar for the second night in a row, a puzzled expression on his face as he sipped at the vile concoction in front of him. He looked up as a slightly drunk bar tender staggered over.

“Will you be paying for another night at this inn,” was bellowed in his face with emphasis on the money required.

“Yes, I’m waiting for someone,” he muttered absent-mindedly. “She should be here by now.” He frowned thoughtfully and then added, “By profession, I’m a story teller. Would you be interested in a story?”

***********

Azzia groaned as she regained consciousness and sat up, struggling to remember what had happened. There were huge gashes were the whip and sank into and then ripped out of her skin. She had fort of course, but had only received a harsher betting for it. She looked around uneasily and realized that she had been moved to a different pen, with no other people in it. A spasm of coughs brought to her attention how dry her throat was, but after careful observation, she realized that her pen had no water trough in it. Angry and frustrated, she rocked back and forth in a ball, silent tears running down her red swollen cheeks.

“Look what we have here!” Azzia turned to see the squashed faces of the two black, gray-spotted, identical cats peering at her from outside the pen.

“Oh, so you do talk,” she muttered, in spite of her self, as they squeezed through the fence and moved towards her.

“Of course we talk, silly!” one responded thrusting its flat face upwards.

“I’m sorry,” Azzia muttered apologetically, “I’ve just never met a cat that can talk.”

“Most can’t.” it said flatly, then added in a new curios tone, “What happened to you?” It indicated to her cuts and bruises as it said this.

“I’m a slave,” she responded in the same flat tone it had given her first.

“Ah,” it nodded knowledgably, “archaic human traditions.” There was a brief moment of silence after it said this, but Azzia was too glad of the company to head its insults.

“Do you have names?” she asked after a while. The cat responded by making a series of sounds, but when it saw her puzzled expression it sighed and said, “you can call me Em, and she is Elma,” it indicated towards the other cat.

“We’re Siamese,” the other cat added, and Azzia realized that she had never actually heard the other cat speak. It had a lovely, light feminine voice, in comparison to the deep male one of the first cat.

“What shall we call you?” Em said, prodding her with one paw.

“My name is Azzia.”

“Now that’s a name that’s really hard to pronounce,” Em muttered sarcastically under his breath, but Azzia took no notice of him.

“You don’t look like Siamese cats!” she exclaimed.

“Not Siamese cats!” Em said, impatiently prodding on a painful bruise with his paw again, “Siamese twins.”

“That’s not possible,” Azzia insisted ignorantly, “where are you joined? And besides, you can’t have Siamese twins of different genders.” Em let out an exaggerated sigh, leaving Elma to explain.

“We were once joined at the brain both physically and emotionally, now we are only joined by thoughts,” she whispered. Azzia decided to let it lie after that, which was best because at that moment she was hit by another fit of coughing.

“There’s a water fountain just down that alley, we’ll get you out and take you there,” Elma said and began to move towards the guard of the pen, Em rolled his eyes, but followed suit. Azzia was shocked at how quick witted and nimble they both were. In less than two minutes, they had distracted the guard and clawed a hole in the fence, from which she could squeeze out. It didn’t take long for them to be away from the market and heading down the alley that Elma had previously indicated.



Okay, so this is it. I hope you like it!!

Please critique.

I know its really long but I would really like responces!

Green = Comment/Correction
Blue = Suggestion
Black = Review

*

The man looked up surprised and saw an old woman who was definitely not there before sitting on a huge bolder, quite close to the beginning of the forest.

Try something like: The man looked up, surprised, and saw an old woman. She had not been there previously, sitting on a huge boulder, quite close to the dawning forest.

“Well, where is it?” Her voice was squeaky and dry, but probably the most disturbing thing about it was an odd eagerness that didn’t quite fit it.

You repeated ‘odd’. Dry and squeaky, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that kind of a voice.

He slowly put his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small box.

Also, you seem to have ‘slowly’ in here a couple of times and ‘his’ repeated. Try: He reached into a pocket and withdrew a small box.

In your own words, of course.

“Oh that won’t help you,” she whispered smiling. She had gone back to closely examining the box.

Repetition of ‘examining’.

She smiled absent mindedly as she tucked the box into her pocket and then, using merely one hand, dragged him towards the boat, as though he weighed less that a feather.[]Once he was secured in the boat, she pushed it off the shore and then walked back up to the forest, disappearing into the darkness behind the trees.

You need a space there ^^^

Azzia woke with a start and almost leapt up before realizing where she was.

I’m not a fan of ‘Character wokes up blah blah’ so maybe you need to think about changing that? Up to you.

While empty-minded, educationally-driven youths swarmed into the library everyday to consume anything that they could find on Geology, sociology and just about every other kind of –ology[,] Azzia always visited the most rundown and rejected section of the library.

Comma should be a period.

After slipping in a bookmark on her page, Azzia reluctantly shut the yellowing with age book and lifted it up to its place, struggling slightly under the weight.

Try something like: Azzia reluctantly shut the book, yellowing with age, and ...

Other than a few degrading glares and some up turned noses, her departure was pretty much undisturbed.

‘up turned’ is together.

As usual, the street was packed with people; various merchants selling rare goods, vendors selling stolen goods and shop owners chasing vendors away from the front of their stores.

Repetition of ‘selling’ and ‘vendors’.

He didn’t respond until [ ? ] had picked up his entire collection.

Something missing there.

Everything about him was a strange red color and there was no defining lines to distinguish between one feature from the next; they just sort-of flowed into each other.

Ugh. Do not ever, ever use ‘sort of’ in writing! It is only supposed to be for dialogue, sort of gives the impression you, as the writer, are not too sure how to go about describing something. Other words to avoid her: somehow, some kind of.

“Yes, I think I will,” Azzia replied after some thought, “What have you got?”

I see you’re using the offensive ‘some’ here.

The crowds began to thin out as she moved closer to upper Palidon. This was to be expected as upper Palidon was inhabited by only the rich and was, therefore, the least densely populated in comparison to middle Palidon, the business and educational district of the city, and lower Palidon, where poor people lived. Upper Palidon was also situated right on the tabletop on the mountain, which the city had been built around.

Is there no other way to go about referring to Upper Palidon?

Azzia sighed and braced herself for what was to come as she turned onto the path leading to the front door of her mistress’s house. She could already see the cook glaring out of the kitchen window at her.
******
He was changing again. He could feel it, like every organ in his body was in a slowly melting liquid state. He could sense his skin slowly sliding along to it new positions Two months earlier, he would never have thought that it could happen to him, then one morning he had woken up to find a totally different person staring back at him in the mirror. After that, there was no controlling it; at odd hours he would suddenly begin to change. At first it had only been into other human forms, however gradually he had began to change into all kinds of birds and beasts. Unable to explain this to his adoptive father, he had decided it was best to leave home.
When he sensed that the change was over, he leaned over to view his reflection on the water surface. A great, black, shaggy dog looked up at him.
Good[,] he thought[,] at least I’ll be welcome at home.
**************
Farmer Gram was working in one of his fields when he saw the big black dog came slowly lumbering towards him. He smiled, leaning over to pat it. He had to admit, in spite of himself, he rather liked the beast. It had become a friendly companion since his adoptive son had disappeared about two months earlier. Many of the other farmers that lived in that small town, suggested that he had moved up north to the great city of Palidon to make a living. Gram thought differently. While many of the other boys aspired to go north, his son had always looked to the south with interest, where a few dense trees marked the start of the Belda forest.

This whole section needs to be separated!

‘began’ = begun, ‘came’ = come

It was fairly dark as there was no moonlight. Heavy dark clouds covered the sky, threatening to break at any minute.

‘dark’ is repeated.

“What is it with you humans and stating the obvious,” the same cat muttered sarcastically under its breath, “by the way we’re going to crash here tonight.” It was not a question but a statement. Azzia was about to question it further, when she heard movement outside the door and decided it was best to lie quite for a while. She lay down onto her bed with the intention of getting up after the shuffling outside her door had stopped, but as soon as her head touched her pillow, sleep hit her.
**************
Lady Lera, the mistress of the house, was examining her finances. She frowned slightly, looking for evidence of the sudden decrease in money; she was barely managing to make ends meet already. The house cook walked into the study carrying a pot of tea and cup.

Again, this needs to be separated with paragraphs.

“Cook, I need some sort of money to came in,” Lady Lera whispered unhappily, “what do we have to go by?”

‘came’ = come

“Not much really,” the cook responded, pouring some tea into the cup, “unless you want to sell the girl.” Lady Lera, looked down at the floor. So it finally come to that. After a while she muttered, “okay, the girl goes to the slave market tomorrow.”

Try: So, finally, it had come to that.

And this Lady is a noble, would she really say ‘okay’?

“Azzia,” said a voice, which a minute latter she recognized to be the one that had woken her up.

‘latter’ = later

Azzia dragged herself out of her bed and, using the little light provided by the candle, she began to prepare herself for, what she did not know yet, would be a very log day.

‘log’ = long

Concluding that it must have been a dream, she returned to dressing herself and in less than five minutes, the cook, or other wise known as miss Brak, had returned and began to hustle her out of the door.

‘miss Brak’ = Miss Brak

“Where are we going?” Azzia asked sleepily, concealing a huge yawn with her hand. Miss Brek did not respond for a while and when she did, it was no more than a whisper, “you’ll find out soon enough,” she handed Azzia a orange and added, “here, eat this, you’ll need your strength.” Azzia was about to inquire further, when she silenced, by an annoyed sigh, and then beckoned along the still dark street.

Always use paragraphs when the speaker changes. Here you have Azzia and Miss Brak, but seems as if Azzia did all the speaking. Also, ‘a orange’ = an orange.

The route they took was long and one that Azzia had never been along before so, as soon as it was light enough for her to see clearly, she entertained herself by observing the damaged that her been left behind by the storm and watching people move along the streets, clearing up the scattered rubble.

... damage left behind ...

I don’t think you need to make it so long-winded.

Other than the destruction it had created, there was little evidence of there ever [s]having[/s] been[ing] a storm; the sun was shining brightly through a pale blue sky and birds sang happily from tree branches.

^^^ See quote

Standing in front of her was a tall man, who would every so often peer down at her from under is spectacles, scrutinizing her with his beady eyes.

‘is’ = his

There were various fenced[s]-around[/s] pens scattered in all directions, each packed with ten or more people.

^^^ See quote

Unintentionally, her eyes connected with one of the numerous pairs, but no emotion was portrayed back; they were black and stared emptily back.

The last part of the sentence just about repeats the previous. Repetition of ‘back’.

I’ve been here before[.]

Needs a period.

All carried a wipe and wore a fixed smirk, occasionally taking the liberty to torment the people they guarded.

Change ‘carried’ to: carrying and ‘wipe’ = whip

The sound of wipes being cracked could be heard in the distance, each followed by a desperate cry.

‘wipes’ = whips

“I’m sorry Azzia,” was the only response she received, but it was to late. Miss Brak had already received the money for her and was turning[s] to walk [/s]away.

^^^ See quote

There were huge gashes were the whip and sank into and then ripped out of her skin.

‘and’ = had

She had fort of course, but had only received a harsher betting for it.

‘fort’ = fought, ‘betting’ = beating

“I’m sorry,” Azzia muttered apologetically, “I’ve just never met a cat that can talk.”

Simplify: I’ve never met a talking cat [*optional*] before.

“Ah,” it nodded knowledgably, “archaic human traditions.”

I don’t think ‘archaic’ is right here, just go with: old

There was a brief moment of silence after it said this, but Azzia was too glad of the company to head its insults.

Head its insults? What does that mean?

“We’re Siamese,” the other [s]cat[/s] added, and Azzia realized that she had never actually heard the other cat speak.

^^^ See quote

*

Hello!

To begin with, you have a problem with some of your words. Read very carefully through your work, at least three or four times after you’ve finished and twice before posting. I find this helps cut down the typos and the things you may want to take out.

I can’t really make up my mind but I like parts of your story, others I found a little cliché such as Azzia being sold off because the mistress couldn’t afford to keep her, mysterious old woman in the forest, an object Azzia receives from a stranger.

But I like it enough to come back again when you post. Remember, wait a few days before adding the next part otherwise some reviewers will need to catch up to the scene so far.

-- Myth

The problem in why not many people are reading it I believe is mainly because chapter 1 and 2 do not flow that well with the prologue.

Azzia looks like an elegant girl (reminds me of Final Fantasy) and you plan of having her sold? What the hell...

Your prologue was not cliche. The cliche all began in chapter 1 and 2 where Azzia was given the strange item. I expected something not so predictable.

Seriously, I had high expectations when I read the prologue to your story. Now you just disappoint me.

It's not like I feel like acting this way, it's because I still believe in you. So try rewriting some bits from chapter 1 +2 and make it yours.

Sorry guys!!!

I'll review chapter 1 and 2 and see what I can do.

tzmanda wrote:Sorry guys!!!

I'll review chapter 1 and 2 and see what I can do.

Remember, Azzia deserves much better than being sold off!!! Selling her like does not bode well.

Don't forget the importance of sentence length. If sentences are too long they tend to get... well... rambley. Long sentences are fine when describing things but try to break it up with some shorter, to-the-point sentences.

(I'm one of those people who love a bit of action)

But the prologue is great. It gets to the point quickly. I dont have time to read the rest but I will. Great story in the making!