StoweAway (Updated 2/12/08)

This is a new novel that I have started. So far, I love it. It's so much fun to write fantasy! Well, I hope you like it!

StoweAway

Part One: Beginnings

Chapter One: Of Considerable Importance

1

There was a series of events that led to Lord Isaac’s downfall which I believe are of the greatest importance.

Elias Isaac was a man of incredible wealth and power. He was elected as the Supreme Judge of London in the primitive seventeenth century, and climbed up the political ladder until he was at his zenith. Lord Isaac cared for the successful and thriving nation of the wealthy. The prosperous were invited to join in Parliament and could pass laws and decrees, which would aid the rich.

The poor roamed the streets as pitiful beggars. They were outcasts of the rich, like a wounded lamb in the midst of healthy sheep. The needy would rarely find shelter from the cold, grueling days. They would work for little money, performing tasks that the rich found disgusting. The poor had no other choice than surrender to their own fate. The royalty surrounded them, giving up nothing but an insignificant glance downward onto the streets, where the poor were upon their knees, holding out their hands and begging.
No one did anything to help them. No one tried to stop the horrible things that the English were doing to their surplus population. No one cared. The poor would live out their lives and die. It was the way of life. No one tried to help them.

Until Isaac came before the Prime Minister on the night of November eleventh, 1804.

*

There was a knock on the Prime Minister’s door, and he clearly spoke, “Come in.” The Prime Minister was an old man; at the age of fifty-two, he became the Minister and fourteen years had passed since then. And for the first time in those fourteen years, he felt afraid of what was going to happen. He firmly grasped one of the handles to his drawers on his desk, making his knuckles turn a ghastly white. He breathed deeply through his nostrils, trying to calm himself down.

A man in an overcoat and a top hat stepped through the doorway and closed the door. His beady eyes examined the entire room from the depths of his dark face. The man cautiously looked around the room until his eyes rested upon the Prime Minister.

The politician gripped tighter, holding onto the small marble handle that was attached to his desk.

"G'day, Prime Minister," the visitor said quietly. "It is an honor to be sent for." He took one step forward as the Minister seated himself in the high-back leather char, fully alert.

“I am sure that the honor is mine, Judge Isaac,” the Prime Minister replied, hoping that some kind of a warm greeting had made its way out of his lies.

Judge Isaac smiled and nodded. He took a step onto the decorated red carpet that lined the Prime Minister’s office.

“My, my. This is a spectacular room, sir. Oh.” Isaac stopped as his eyes fell to the wide window behind the Minister. The red curtains were drawn, revealing a marvelous view of London.

Isaac took another step towards the window. The Minister gripped, if possible, even tighter. He could feel the ridges of the round handle digging into his skin.

“May I?” Isaac asked, his eyes yearning to take a long look at the glorious view. The Minister’s bottom lip trembled he and said, “Judge Isaac, may we get to the topic?”

“Ah, yes, of course, Prime Minister,” Isaac said, taking a step back from the window. His eyes fixated on him his brown eyes cutting into him, as if trying to tear his soul apart. He took another step back and took his eyes off of the politician. “May I?” he pointed to a brown leather chair sitting just mere feet from the desk.

“Of course,” the Minister said, his grip tensioning. He stared at the man in anger, wishing that this conversation would be forever over.

It had been long known that the Prime Minister of England had a controversial disagreement with Judge Isaac. The Judge wished that the surplus population should be evacuated from the country and sold as slaves. Isaac would then receive the income of the sold slaves and he would distribute the earnings to the rich.

In other words: out with the beggars, in with more money.

Of course, there were other topics that are too numerous to name, and the Prime Minister disapproved of all of them. Judge Isaac had set up a meeting so that they could ‘discuss’ their differences and make a treaty of some sort. Easier said than done, the Prime Minister thought as Judge Isaac sat down and leaned back into the chair.

“Judge Isaac, I see no reason for us to be
meeting here tonight. I have values that I will not allow to be tampered with!” the Prime Minister began, but Judge Isaac cut him off with raising his hand.

“Yes, yes, I know of your values that you speak of. You are against slavery, am I correct?” Isaac asked, lifting one eyebrow. The Prime Minister gripped his marble handle once again.

“Yes. Indeed, I am against it. Slavery is wrong. We are all human beings, therefore we all have a chance to live as –”

“Are you telling me that you enjoy having poverty amidst in your land? Are you saying that you enjoy seeing beggars upon the street, kneeling there like some worthless, dirty scum?” Isaac commanded, rising from his seat. The Prime Minister shook his head and started to speak, but got cut off again.

“Then why do you insist that you litter our streets with these… these… abominable rats?”

“I command you to stop!” the Prime Minister shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls. But Judge Isaac did not stop.

“Then why do you not comply with me and get rid of the whole lot?” Isaac shouted, throwing his hands up into the air. His face was turning bright red and his small beard was rustled.

“Because I believe that every human being has a right to live his life in any manner of which he chooses!” the Prime Minister roared, standing up from his leather chair also. He spoke as if in spurts, making his words utterly powerful. He continued, “That is why I insist that they remain. We can still help them. We can still help them. Judge Isaac, if we put our differences behind us, we can rid of poverty forevermore.”

Isaac stared at the man straight in the face. His face was distorted into a strange frown and his bushy eyebrows were burrowed into his head.

“You – are – not – listening to me!” he roared. Suddenly, Isaac growled and his hand dove into his black coat pocket.

The Prime Minister gasped as he saw a long knife, glinting in the light of the room. Isaac grinned madly and held the dagger pointed down.

“Judge Isaac, I command you to put that weapon away. You will be escorted out and never to return again. Do you hear?” the Prime Minister said, his eyes glued to the knife.

“I gave you a chance, Minister. And you denied me. I gave you a chance and you denied me!” Isaac roared and he swore loudly. With terrifying speed, he crashed the knife down on top of the desk, puncturing important papers and bills.

The Minister was so surprised by this sudden attack that he yelped and leaned back into his chair. The chair rocked on two leg and finally fell backwards, sending the Prime Minister crashing to the floor and, subsequently, through the huge window behind him.

Judge Isaac smiled as he saw the Prime Minister’s eyes for the last time. Overcome by fear, the old man couldn’t even scream for help; it was too late. The Prime Minister had crashed through the window and fell six stories through the air.

And Judge Isaac hadn’t touched a single hair on the dead man’s head.

_________

Thanks for any reader/reviewers! Anything is much appreciated!

Wow, I liked this. I don't have much time to give you a full review, but I will give it my best shot.

Loved your first sentence, I did. I am a sucker for a good first sentence and yours was intriguing. It promised so much. *thumbs up*

I liked your dialogue. That was the thing that really jumped out at me. It was formal, but not drowning us in archaic dialect. It was right to the point. Loved it.

One question, what is the viewpoint of this story? Your first sentence is first person, but then the rest of the chapter is third. Is there an omnipotent narrator (think Frankenstein or something, where there is one person telling the story that has been told to them?) or is it one person and that scene of the chapter was just in another viewpoint - as has been done. There does appear to be a separation between the two bits. If so, and the story is ultimately to be told in first person, it might be a good idea to add a little more first person after the third, or to immediately begin the next chapter with first person. Otherwise, that fabulous first sentence you bring to the table will be for naught.

Anyway, fabulous job, you. I commend you.

~GryphonFledgling

amazing bigbad, the amount of thought and planning that must have gone into this... wow. ill have to agree with gryphon falcon that the opening line is beautifully well written in fact this is prolly the best work ive ever seen from u... u r amazing...

i also was wondering about the pov, like gyrphon falcon said...

so basically i dont have much to say except pm me with the next chapter, please!

your #1 fan!

Hey, 3B! The comp's killing my eyes, so I apologize for anything not making sense.

Elias Isaac was a man of incredible wealth and power. He was elected as the Supreme Judge of London in the primitive seventeenth century, and climbed up the political ladder until he was at his zenith. Lord Isaac cared for the successful and thriving nation of the wealthy. The prosperous were invited to join in Parliament and could pass laws and decrees, which would aid the rich.

It seems to me, though I don't know if it is to anyone else, that those two words seem to be out of place. I mean, the meanings certainly fits, but the words themselves seem to big and stand out like mad. If it's possible to change them, that may be good. However, it may just be me.

he Prime Minister was an old man; at the age of fifty-two, he became the Minister and fourteen years had passed since then.

A man in an overcoat and a top hat stepped through the doorway, [no comma] and closed the door.

His face was dark, and his eyes beady.

His beady eyes examined the entire room from the depths of his dark face. This is really not good, but makes my point that this sentence can be improved to something more poetic.

The man that was standing just in front of the door said, “G’day, Prime Minister. It is my honor to be here.” He took a step forward, making the Minister sit in his leather chair, fully alert.

"G'day, Prime Minister," the visitor said quietly. "It is an honor to be sent for." He took one step forward as the Minister seated himself in the high-back leather char, fully alert.

...hoping that some kind of a warm greeting had made [s]it’s[/s] its way out of his lies.

Oh,” [period instead] Isaac stopped as his eyes fell to the wide window [s]that[/s] behind the Minister [s]sat in front of[/s].

Isaac took another step towards the window, and also towards the Prime Minister himself.

After saying the first part of this sentence, the second part was a bit obvious. You said a couple sentences ago that the window was behind the Minister.

The Minister gripped tighter, if even possible.

The Minister gripped, if possible, even tighter.

The Minister’s bottom lip trembled and said, “Judge Isaac, may we get to the topic?”

Lol. His lip said that?

His eyes fixated on him, his brown eyes cutting into him, [no comma] as if trying to tear his soul apart.

“May I?” he pointed to a brown leather chair, [no comma] sitting just mere feet from the desk.

“Of course,” the Minister said, his grip tensioning.

That's really a word? Lol, maybe 'tensing' is better?

The Judge wished that the surplus population should be evacuated from the country, [no comma] and sold as slaves.

Woah, harsh judge.

In other words, [colon?] out with the beggars, in with more greed.

...the money? Greed sounds weird as a noun, lol, but that's just me.

Isaac commanded, rising from his seat. The Prime Minister shook his head [s]no[/s] and started to speak, but got cut off again.

Shaking usually means 'no' and nodding means 'yes'. ^_^

“I command you to stop!” the Prime Minister shouted, his voice reverberating off [s]of[/s] the walls.

He spoke as if in spurts, making his words utterly powerful.

That part was weird. I'd suggest rewriting that. ^_^

The Minister [s]was so surprised by this sudden attack that he [/s]yelped and leaned back into his chair.

The chair rocked on two legs, and finally fell backward, sending the Prime Minister crashing to the floor and subsequently – through the wide window.

Punctuation: The chair rocked on two leg and finally fell backwards, sending the Prime Minister crashing to the floor and, subsequently, through the huge window behind him.

Overall view:

I liked the ending. It was definitely action-packed. A little more description and smoothness throughout the whole thing will make it perfect-o!

One main issue is the introduction. Those few paragraphs are probably unnecessary altogether. You don't have to tell us straight away in the story. You can share the lesson later during a history lesson or something, lol. Besides, the dialogue did well in showing what a good man the Minister was compared to that Judge.

By the way, why was the Judge and the Minister duking it out? I'm no professional whatsoever when it comes to governments, but I don't think that the Judge and the Minister would hate each other so much that they'd duke it out like this (not that the Minister wanted to). I don't know, though. If you haven't, I'd do a little research as to the English government...unless this is your own government you made up, then completely ignore this paragraph!

Otherwise, this is good. I suppose later will explain why this is a fantasy, so I look forward to it! *loves fantasy*

Keep writing!

Jabber, the One and Only!

Hey Jared!
*smacks head* And I thought I could arrive before the other critiquers! *points at JabberHut and yells 'crit hog!'*

Anyways. Forgive me if I repeat anything, but these are my impressions as a first-time reader:

There was a series of events that led to Lord Isaac’s downfall which I believe are of the greatest importance.

Elias Isaac was a man of incredible wealth and power. He was elected as the Supreme Judge of London in the primitive seventeenth century, and climbed up the political ladder until he was at his zenith. Lord Isaac cared for the successful and thriving nation of the wealthy. The prosperous were invited to join in Parliament and could pass laws and decrees, which would aid the rich.

The poor roamed the streets as pitiful beggars. They were outcasts of the rich, like a wounded lamb in the midst of healthy sheep. The needy would rarely find shelter from the cold, grueling days. They would work for little money, performing tasks that the rich found disgusting. The poor had no other choice than surrender to their own fate. The royalty surrounded them, giving up nothing but an insignificant glance downward onto the streets, where the poor were upon their knees, holding out their hands and begging.
No one did anything to help them. No one tried to stop the horrible things that the English were doing to their surplus population. No one cared. The poor would live out their lives and die. It was the way of life. No one tried to help them.

Until Isaac came before the Prime Minister on the night of November eleventh, 1804.

*

I like this part, but it seems a little info-dumpish. It might just be me, though... you could probably sum it all up in a single paragraph, but again, that might just be me.
Anyways. This seems like a prologue/preface type thing, so maybe it should be in italics? It's just that it's confusing to read this and then to read something written from the third person. ^.^

He firmly grasped one of the handles to his drawers on his desk, making his knuckles turn a ghastly white.

That first bit in the sentence sounds a little... weird. Awkward - although I can't think of a way to rephrase it...

His beady eyes examined the entire room from the depths of his dark face.

This sentence also sounds kind of stiff/awkward. Maybe try: His beady eyes examined the room, shining like beetles from his dark face. Or something like that. =p

The man cautiously looked around the room until his eyes rested upon the Prime Minister.

Hhhmm... this has an odd flow... maybe you should change it to: The man looked around the room cautiously, until his gaze rested upon the Prime Minister.

[quote]
The politician gripped tighter, holding onto the small marble handle that was attached to his desk.

"G'day, Prime Minister," the visitor said quietly. "It is an honor to be sent for." He took one step forward as the Minister seated himself in the high-back leather char, fully alert.

“I am sure that the honor is mine, Judge Isaac,” the Prime Minister replied, hoping that some kind of a warm greeting had made its way out of his lies.

Judge Isaac smiled and nodded. He took a step onto the decorated red carpet that lined the Prime Minister’s office.

“My, my. This is a spectacular room, sir. Oh.” Isaac stopped as his eyes fell to the wide window behind the Minister. The red curtains were drawn, revealing a marvelous view of London.

Isaac took another step towards the window. The Minister gripped, if possible, even tighter. He could feel the ridges of the round handle digging into his skin.

“May I?” Isaac asked, his eyes yearning to take a long look at the glorious view. The Minister’s bottom lip trembled he and said, “Judge Isaac, may we get to the topic?”

“Ah, yes, of course, Prime Minister,” Isaac said, taking a step back from the window. His eyes fixated on him his brown eyes cutting into him, as if trying to tear his soul apart. He took another step back and took his eyes off of the politician. “May I?” he pointed to a brown leather chair sitting just mere feet from the desk.

“Of course,” the Minister said, his grip tensioning. He stared at the man in anger, wishing that this conversation would be forever over.

It had been long known that the Prime Minister of England had a controversial disagreement with Judge Isaac. The Judge wished that the surplus population should be evacuated from the country and sold as slaves. Isaac would then receive the income of the sold slaves and he would distribute the earnings to the rich.

In other words: out with the beggars, in with more money.

Of course, there were other topics that are too numerous to name, and the Prime Minister disapproved of all of them. Judge Isaac had set up a meeting so that they could ‘discuss’ their differences and make a treaty of some sort. Easier said than done, the Prime Minister thought as Judge Isaac sat down and leaned back into the chair.

“Judge Isaac, I see no reason for us to be
meeting here tonight. I have values that I will not allow to be tampered with!” the Prime Minister began, but Judge Isaac cut him off with raising his hand.

“Yes, yes, I know of your values that you speak of. You are against slavery, am I correct?” Isaac asked, lifting one eyebrow. The Prime Minister gripped his marble handle once again.

“Yes. Indeed, I am against it. Slavery is wrong. We are all human beings, therefore we all have a chance to live as –”

“Are you telling me that you enjoy having poverty amidst in your land? Are you saying that you enjoy seeing beggars upon the street, kneeling there like some worthless, dirty scum?” Isaac commanded, rising from his seat. The Prime Minister shook his head and started to speak, but got cut off again.

“Then why do you insist that you litter our streets with these… these… abominable rats?”

“I command you to stop!” the Prime Minister shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls. But Judge Isaac did not stop.

“Then why do you not comply with me and get rid of the whole lot?” Isaac shouted, throwing his hands up into the air. His face was turning bright red and his small beard was rustled.

“Because I believe that every human being has a right to live his life in any manner of which he chooses!” the Prime Minister roared, standing up from his leather chair also. He spoke as if in spurts, making his words utterly powerful. He continued, “That is why I insist that they remain. We can still help them. We can still help them. Judge Isaac, if we put our differences behind us, we can rid of poverty forevermore.”

Isaac stared at the man straight in the face. His face was distorted into a strange frown and his bushy eyebrows were burrowed into his head.

“You – are – not – listening to me!” he roared. Suddenly, Isaac growled and his hand dove into his black coat pocket.

The Prime Minister gasped as he saw a long knife, glinting in the light of the room. Isaac grinned madly and held the dagger pointed down.

“Judge Isaac, I command you to put that weapon away. You will be escorted out and never to return again. Do you hear?” the Prime Minister said, his eyes glued to the knife.

“I gave you a chance, Minister. And you denied me. I gave you a chance and you denied me!” Isaac roared and he swore loudly. With terrifying speed, he crashed the knife down on top of the desk, puncturing important papers and bills.

The Minister was so surprised by this sudden attack that he yelped and leaned back into his chair. The chair rocked on two leg and finally fell backwards, sending the Prime Minister crashing to the floor and, subsequently, through the huge window behind him.

Judge Isaac smiled as he saw the Prime Minister’s eyes for the last time. Overcome by fear, the old man couldn’t even scream for help; it was too late. The Prime Minister had crashed through the window and fell six stories through the air.

And Judge Isaac hadn’t touched a single hair on the dead man’s head.

Hi, Mr. Badbear! Comments, edits, or other offered documentation is set in braces. I also may use strike marks.



There w{ere} a series of events that led to Lord Isaac’s downfall {that} I believe are of the greatest importance.

Elias Isaac was a man of incredible wealth and power. He was elected as the Supreme Judge of London in the primitive seventeenth century {Since when is the 17th century primitive?}, and climbed up the political ladder until he was at his{“its” would probably be better.} zenith. Lord Isaac cared for the successful and thriving nation of the wealthy {This should be reworded. More like: “Lord Isaac cared only for the successful, thriving wealthy of the nation.”}. The prosperous were invited to join in Parliament and could pass laws and decrees, which would aid the rich {Maybe: “He invited them to join the Parliament. Here they passed laws and decrees which/that aided them.”}.

The poor roamed the streets as pitiful beggars. They were outcasts of the rich, like a wounded lamb in the midst of healthy sheep. The needy {c}ould rarely find shelter from the cold, grueling days. They would work for little money, performing tasks that the rich {abhorred}. The poor had no other choice than surrender to their own fate. The royalty surrounded them, giving up nothing but an insignificant glance downward onto the streets, where the poor were upon their knees, holding out their hands and begging.
No one did anything to help them. {English horrors inflicted upon the surplus population {By the way, is the population really surplus?} went unchecked, unchallenged.} No one cared. The poor would live out their lives and die. It was the way of life. No one tried to help them, {This is understood.} {} that is, until Isaac came before the Prime Minister on the night of November eleventh{“11” is OK to use here.}, 1804.

*

There was a knock on the Prime Minister’s door, and he clearly spoke, “Come in.”
{}
The Prime Minister was an old man;{.} {A}t the age of fifty-two, he {had become} the Minister and fourteen years had passed since then. And {F}or the first time in those fourteen years, he felt afraid of what was going to happen. He firmly grasped one of the handles to his drawers on his desk, making his knuckles turn a ghastly white. He breathed deeply through his nostrils, trying to calm himself down. {You haven't actually said the man who knocked at the door has come in yet. At this point, it is easy to think that the Minister is getting freaked out by a door that hasn't been opened.}

OK, I like it, but I'm not going to read anymore. Before I get to satiate my reading buds, you need to go through this and make sure your paragraph structure and verb tenses are appropriate. Once you've done this (after reading, tweaking, re-reading, tweaking, re-reading, tweaking, re-reading, editing, reading, tweaking, reading, finalizing; at least something like that), let me know. I check it out. Hope to hear from you soon. PM me about it.

Hola.

So, as far as history background story goes, this looks good. But I'm not sure if my opinion counts since I don't read much of this type of stuff. =P Your plot is well structured and I have no complaints about grammar.

Now, since thats not helpful at all, I'll let you know what I'd do to improve this. But once again, might not count. One thing you could do, is add more detail. I think there is a sort of...lack of empathy. We see what is happening, but I don't really feel how horrible life is for the poor because it's all kind of just statistics, like reading out of a history book (you know, telling, not showing). *is referring to the first little part* Though that might be the point, at which point don't mind me.

The second thing I'd do...*blink* Oh. Yeah, that's it =P No second thing apparently. Oooh. Wait. Feeling! We could use more of that. You tell us about how the prime minister keeps grabbing that poor handle, but since you use it repeatedly it turns stops having as much of an effect.

Um, and that's it. This was good, though for the moment it feels a bit more like a prologue than it does a chapter. ^_^

Nice work.

^_^ Keek!

Hey! Thanks for all of your comments. Jabber, I edited all of those mistakes that you found. So thanks.

I am having a little bit of a breakdown though. This story happens in 1804 and I researched that the English government didn't have Prime Ministers until the 1950s. So, I am trying to decide whether I should make my own country or leave it in England. Any advice? I really don't know what to do.

Anyway, here is chapter two! I hope that you like it! It's not nearly as boring as chapter one.

Aly Stowe

2

Ten years after the rise of Lord Isaac, Aly Stowe awoke to the tender and familiar thoughts of Zekyll. Aly’s small mouth slowly stretched and became a smile as Zek pushed her way through the door and put a paw upon her bed. The snow leopard sent pleasant thoughts toward Aly, and finally the nine-year-old girl opened her right eye, her smile still expanding.

“G’morning, Zek… how was hunting last night?” The little girl pushed herself off her pillow and sat up whilst receiving positive thoughts from the family leopard.

“Sounds great." Aly said. "Oh, silly cat! You’ve made me hungry! C’mon, let’s go get some breakfast.” Aly slowly clambered out of her small bed. She extended her arm out and petted Zek’s warm, white fur. The leopard purred graciously and Aly laughed, beckoning her to walk down the hallway into the kitchen.

“Up already?” Auntie Clair asked as Aly and Zekyll arrived in the kitchen. They were instantly greeted with the calming aroma of bacon and eggs. Auntie Clair was stirring a boiling pot of tea over the fire in the other room.

“Yes’m,” Aly replied and looked at the delicious food that Auntie Clair had prepared. She took a wooden spoon and started dishing some up when her aunt said, “Aly, no. You know the rules…”

Aly frowned and looked at Zek whose charcoal black eyes stared right back at her.

“Auntie Clair, can I please have some bacon and eggs?” Aly asked in a sweet girl voice. Auntie Clair apparently wasn’t satisfied with the answer. Aly groaned and asked, “Auntie Clair, may I please have some bacon and eggs?”

Her aunt smiled and nodded. “Now you remember to ask for permission, Aly. We don’t need you getting into more trouble. Especially now. You’re uncle has been through enough without you getting caught for doing something impolite.”

Aly nodded and looked mischievously at Zek, who smiled back. It was all too fresh in Aly’s mind of what had happened the night before last.

It hadn’t been her fault, really. It was that horrible kid, Maxwell, who started it. It was raining and Aly and Zek were outside, playing in the water. If it weren’t for Maxwell Hunt, they wouldn’t have gotten in trouble.

Aly could remember like it had just happened:

“What do you want?” Aly sneered at the approaching boy. Maxwell glared. His clothes were dirty brown, and wet. The rain pounded upon his clothes, soaking them even more.

“Why does it matter to you, you ugly little girl!” Maxwell retorted. Zek growled and crouched into a defensive position, ready to pounce when needed.

“Because, this is our turf! This is where we play, you dumb boy!” Aly said, desperately thinking of an insult, but nothing was coming up. Zek was, of course, sending her thoughts of rage and hoping to attack the boy.

“No, Zek. Not yet,” she whispered and looked up to Maxwell. He had bright red hair; freckles littered his nose and teeth that were crooked. He reminded Aly of a goat. A bright red goat.

Aly snorted and said, “Go away. This is our land.” Zek was itching for a fight, but Aly resisted giving in until the last possible moment.

“No. What if I wanna play here?”

Aly groaned and said, “Do you want to fight? Is that what you want to do?”

“Yeah!” Maxwell shouted, spraying spit all down Aly’s shirt but the rain quickly washed it away. The boy raised his fists, glaring at Aly.

“It’s two against one,” Aly said, backing up a step. Her voice started shaking as she said, “You’re not going to win. Especially with Zek on my side!”

Zek heard her name and perked up. She glanced at Aly before pouncing on the boy. Maxwell shouted in pain and cried, “Get this ugly cat off of me!”

“Zek, I never told you to pounce!” Aly shouted, running towards the snow leopard and Maxwell. The girl tried to send mental images to Zek, but they bounced off as if there was a barrier between their minds.

“Get – her—off!” Maxwell cried and looked from side to side, trying to find a weapon. There was a stick lying in the mud six inches from his head. Could he grab it?

“Oh, no you don’t!” Aly shouted, running to pick up the stick, but Maxwell already had it clutched in his hands. He took one big swipe at Zek, and smashed the stick into her side. She growled, but limped off of him.

“Bloody cat! Bloody… look what she did to me!” Maxwell scrambled to get to his feet. His arm looked like it had been massacred. There were scratches and nasty bruises, and there was a great cut in his shirt.

“Bloody… I’m telling father about this!” he turned to run away. “You’ll regret ever setting that bloody cat on me!”

It turned out that Maxwell did tell his father, and Mr. Hunt made Uncle Steven pay thirty-two pounds. It was all taken care of rather quickly. Uncle Steven had just received his money from work, and so he handed it all over. Afterwards though, Aly was more than punished. She wasn’t allowed to go outside at all. Aly was condemned to live inside the stuffy old house and she had to find some way to pay Uncle Steven sixteen pounds back; they had made an agreement that sixteen was half and that would be acceptable.

But sixteen pounds! Aly had never owned more than ten pounds in her entire life!

*

Aly set her plate of food down on the wooden table and pulled out a chair. Glancing down to Zek, she offered some eggs but the snow leopard refused. Aly received the notion that she was still full from hunting the night before.

Aly ate her food slowly, making sure that she ate with proper etiquette; Auntie Clair had made it quite clear that Aly was to grow up and be wealthy. Every time that Auntie Clair said that, it made Aly grow to hate rich people. If she were to be rich, Aly would have to eat like that every day, and she could not stand it.

Zek coughed out a hoarse laugh, reading Aly’s thoughts. The two girls smiled and Aly continued to eat.

Auntie Clair was stirring the tea again when she looked out a dusty window. “Oh!” she cried. “Steven is home. He’s too early. The tea isn’t done…” She quickly pulled the ladle out from the tea pot and set it near the fireplace. Auntie Clair sighed and drummed her fingers against her long plaid dress. Her other hand was up on her forehead as she complained more and more about Uncle Steven's early arrival.

As the burly man strode to the door, Aly looked at Zek who looked just as uncomfortable as she did. They looked back to see Uncle Steve open the door and slam it shut. The noise seemed to echo throughout the small three-room house.

“Dearest, you’ve come home mighty early this morning,” Auntie Clair began, but then Uncle Steven cut her off. Aly looked at her uncle’s face: long black hair that went past his ears and a pair of deep brown eyes that glaring down at her.

“Steven? What’s wrong, dear?” Auntie Clair asked.

“It’s that… that brat! Look at what she’s done!” Uncle Steven pointed a long, calloused finger at Aly, who didn’t speak. Her eyes were widened and her face softened.

“Wha –,” she began.

“Steven! How dare you speak that way! Hold your tongue!” Auntie Clair shouted and slapped him across his cheek. He roared and turned to his wife who backed away.

“We have no money! We have no bloody money because of that brat!” he shouted and then stormed off into his bedroom; Auntie Clair followed closely. Aly and Zek could still hear him shouting as they gave each other tearful looks.

“What do you mean I need to calm down?” he bellowed, shaking the rafters. Auntie Clair shouted something to him, but Aly stood up and beckoned Zek to follow her. Aly opened the front door, allowing a cool breeze to enter the house. As soon as they were outside, Aly whispered, “C’mon, Zek. We need to go.”

*

Ten years ago, Judge Isaac was accused of murdering the Prime Minister of England. The persecutions rose until the trial where Isaac was to be hung if proven guilty.

At the trial, Judge Isaac displayed the Prime Minister’s will, which clearly stated that Parliament was to agree on Isaac to be the new Prime Minister. Isaac’s brother in law, Joseph Whitner, happened to be a member of Parliament at that time, and persuaded the rest of the members that if Isaac were to become Prime Minister, the poor would most certainly not be a major flaw in the government any longer.

So, at the trial, Judge Isaac was declared innocent from all charges. Such a statement outraged citizens. It was clear to them that Isaac had killed the Prime Minister. But Parliament made sure that everyone believed that he was truly innocent by publishing a small book telling of Judge Isaac. Parliament agreed that he was to be the Prime Minister, and soon Lord Isaac’s reign of terror began.


*

I'm still welcoming any comments or suggestions! Thanks a million for taking the time to read over this. It means a lot to me!

Hey Jared!
*smacks head* And I thought I could arrive before the other critiquers! *points at JabberHut and yells 'crit hog!'*

Anyways. Forgive me if I repeat anything, but these are my impressions as a first-time reader:

There was a series of events that led to Lord Isaac’s downfall which I believe are of the greatest importance.

Elias Isaac was a man of incredible wealth and power. He was elected as the Supreme Judge of London in the primitive seventeenth century, and climbed up the political ladder until he was at his zenith. Lord Isaac cared for the successful and thriving nation of the wealthy. The prosperous were invited to join in Parliament and could pass laws and decrees, which would aid the rich.

The poor roamed the streets as pitiful beggars. They were outcasts of the rich, like a wounded lamb in the midst of healthy sheep. The needy would rarely find shelter from the cold, grueling days. They would work for little money, performing tasks that the rich found disgusting. The poor had no other choice than surrender to their own fate. The royalty surrounded them, giving up nothing but an insignificant glance downward onto the streets, where the poor were upon their knees, holding out their hands and begging.
No one did anything to help them. No one tried to stop the horrible things that the English were doing to their surplus population. No one cared. The poor would live out their lives and die. It was the way of life. No one tried to help them.

Until Isaac came before the Prime Minister on the night of November eleventh, 1804.

*

I like this part, but it seems a little info-dumpish. It might just be me, though... you could probably sum it all up in a single paragraph, but again, that might just be me.
Anyways. This seems like a prologue/preface type thing, so maybe it should be in italics? It's just that it's confusing to read this and then to read something written from the third person. ^.^

He firmly grasped one of the handles to his drawers on his desk, making his knuckles turn a ghastly white.

That first bit in the sentence sounds a little... weird. Awkward - although I can't think of a way to rephrase it...

His beady eyes examined the entire room from the depths of his dark face.

This sentence also sounds kind of stiff/awkward. Maybe try: His beady eyes examined the room, shining like beetles from his dark face. Or something like that. =p

The man cautiously looked around the room until his eyes rested upon the Prime Minister.

Hhhmm... this has an odd flow... maybe you should change it to: The man looked around the room cautiously, until his gaze rested upon the Prime Minister.

He took one step forward as the Minister seated himself in the high-back leather char, fully alert.

Black leather char? Typo, or something?

His eyes fixated on him his brown eyes cutting into him, as if trying to tear his soul apart.

I don't like how you used the word 'brown' twice. Also, it seems a little clichéd; I've read so many stories with characters whose gaze 'seems to look into your soul'.

He took another step back and took his eyes off of the politician. “May I?” he pointed to a brown leather chair sitting just mere feet from the desk.

'Just a mere feet' sounds awkward. >.> Maybe say 'just a mere few feet' instead?

Easier said than done, the Prime Minister thought as Judge Isaac sat down and leaned back into the chair.

I think the Minister's thoughts should be in italics. ^.^

“Then why do you not comply with me and get rid of the whole lot?” Isaac shouted, throwing his hands up into the air. His face was turning bright red and his small beard was rustled.

'and his small beard rustled' sounds odd. How can a beard rustle?

Isaac stared at the man straight in the face. His face was distorted into a strange frown and his bushy eyebrows were burrowed into his head.

I don't like the repetition of 'face'.

The Prime Minister gasped as he saw a long knife, glinting in the light of the room.

'glinting in the light of the room' sounds awkward too. I think it would sound better if you were to mention what kind of lighting was in the room. For example: ... as he saw a long knife, glinting in the light cast by the oil lamp in the corner'.

The chair rocked on two leg and finally fell backwards, sending the Prime Minister crashing to the floor and, subsequently, through the huge window behind him.

It should be: The chair rocked on two legs (etc)

----------------------------------------------------

Wow, this is quite good! I like your style of writing - kind of archaic, kind if formal, but not stiff or stale. The dialogue is amazing, and the pacing is also good.

I agree with Sleeping Valor that it sounds more like a prologue, though. But that's not a big issue.

In my opinion though, you could put more emotion into this. We know the surface things; Isaac's anger, the Minister's fear, but I'd like to know more.

I've also noticed that most of your description is adjectives. I would like to see more metaphors and similes, but it's really personal preference. I just think it would add more to the imagery.

Anyways, overall, this is quite good.

Cheers,
Camille

Hey good job. This was interesting.

Does Aly have a psychic link to her cat or is she just plain psychic and able to read everyone's thoughts? Because if she is able to read everyone's thoughts, I didn't get that impression.

Grammar, usage, flow, and spelling were fairly impeccable. There were just a few places.

It was that horrid kid, Maxwell, who started it.

Horrid kid... that sounds funny to me. Try, horrible kid.

Aly could remember like it just had happened:

That read a little strange. Try: like it had just happened.

Because, this is our turf! This is where we play, you dumb boy!”

You haven't told us where they are playing. Just what turf belongs to Aly and Zek. And "This is our turf" is a strange expression for a nine-year-old girl to use. It sounds more like something a homeboy would spout at an encroaching gansta'.

He reminded Aly of a goat. A bright red goat.

I love the imagery here. I know people who remind me of horribly colored goats. Excellent.

She glanced at Aly and suddenly she pounced

Too many things happening in one sentence. Slow this down a little.

Ten years ago, Judge Isaac was accused of murdering the Prime Minister of England. The persecutions rose until the trial where Isaac was to be hung if proven guilty.

At the trial, Judge Isaac displayed the Prime Minister’s will, which clearly stated that Parliament was to agree on Isaac to be the new Prime Minister. Isaac’s brother in law, Joseph Whitner, happened to be a member of Parliament at that time, and persuaded the rest of the members that if Isaac were to become Prime Minister, the poor would most certainly not be a major flaw in the government any longer.

So, at the trial, Judge Isaac was declared innocent from all charges. Such a statement outraged citizens. It was clear to them that Isaac had obviously killed the Prime Minister. But Parliament made sure that everyone believed that he was truly innocent by publishing a small book telling of Judge Isaac. Parliament agreed that he was to be the Prime Minister, and soon Lord Isaac’s reign of terror began.

I had to go back and read the first chapter to understand what was going on here. This is basically an info-dump, and while it does get the job done, it might be less obnoxious if you inserted a fake news article.

The newspaper article, while accomplishing the same thing, does not ruin the flow of a story and it makes the story seem more real. After all, if you read it, it must be true.


Keep up the good work.

This chapter seemed to be totally disconnected from the last one. I just didn't seem to have the same 'feel' as the last one. This was just more juvenile, if you don't mind the expression, with a few more info dumps. It just feels young versus the other chapter's archaic feel. Am I making any sense? Probably not...

There needs to be a little more environmental description in this chapter. I'm really not sure what is happening here. You mention a snow leopard, which makes me think mountains, but then you talk about bacon and eggs, which makes me think about a nice comfortable cottage among the green rolling plains or something. I don't think that pigs would survive in the same environment as a snow leopard. Or, why does Aly's aunt and uncle let her keep a psychic predator in their house?

Hmmm... I really failed to see the connection between these two. Is Aly going to be affected by the entire political fiasco? Is she one of the poor that Issac wanted to eliminate? If so, you should mention Aly's living conditions. It is obvious that they are scraping for money. Describe the house they live in. It seems to me that bacon would be an expensive choice for breakfast food. What else would they eat instead?

Scotty.Knows made a good point in his review, that the very end of your second chapter is a bit of an info-dump. I agree with the newspaper article. It would still fit the feel of the information and wouldn't be so blatantly obvious as an info-dump.

Anyway, congrats on your update. Good luck!

~GryphonFledgling

Hey, 3B! The comp's sucking my brain out again, so forgive me if the crit seems wild and wacky.

Ayra: Hah, I'm sorry. I'll try to leave room for you in the future, though I think you made points I never made.

“Sounds great. Oh, silly cat! You’ve made me hungry! C’mon, let’s go get some breakfast,” Aly said and slowly clambered out of her small bed.

Either put the Aly said tag after the first sentence or delete completely. "Sounds great. Oh, silly cat! You've made me hungry! C'mon, let's go get some breakfast." Aly slowly clambered out of her small bed.

“Yes’m,” Aly replied...

Be careful with this contraction/jargon. This morning, she didn't combine words like that, but spoke formally and politely. Now she's saying yes'm instead of yes, ma'am or yes, Mother or whatever you wanted her to say. Just watch out for her dialogue and accent.

Aly frowned and looked at Zek, who stared back. Her beautiful charcoal black eyes seemed to reflect Aly’s image, and she smirked.

Eyes don't seem to reflect one's image. They do. It's automatically assumed. If they don't, then you should say so. Otherwise, don't say they seem to reflect her image. Aly frowned and looked at Zek whose charcoal black eyes stared right back at her. I'd also add ...right back at her with...something.

Her aunt smiled and nodded [s]her head[/s].

You’re uncle has been through enough without you going and getting caught by doing something impolite.”

Doing something impolite? She only said something impolite. Unless you meant for Aunt Clair to sound like this (which, if you did, she's very frustrating ), change it.

Aly nodded and looked mischievously at Zek, who smiled back.

Can we replace that? It seems a bit too big for Aly, who seems to be young? Not too young, but young enough to be young. *cough* teen/pre-teen *cough* lol

Aly could remember like it just had happened:

Wait, it just happened a couple nights ago. This sentence makes it seem like it's a childhood memory. xD You don't want that, I'm sure. Aly could remember it very claerly. Or just delete the entire sentence.

“What do you want?” Aly asked, sneering at the approaching boy.

The tag here seems awkward. Could you replace asked with 'sneer'? "What do you want?" Aly sneered as the boy approached her. and maybe add a little more description like his cold eyes were hooked on her or his jaw was clenched, hands folded into fists, blah, blah, blah...

Maxwell walked right up to her and glared. His clothes were a dirty brown, and wet. The rain pounded upon his clothes, soaking them even more.

Here you spent two sentences to say that him and his brown, dirty clothes were wet from the rain. Plus, you already said approached, so the walked right up to her part is unnecessary. You can combine these into a more smooth sentence or use two sentences like here: Maxwell glared at her and came to a stop only feet in front of her. The rain seemed to pound harder on Aly's shoulders who buckled her knees so she wouldn't fall over from the pressure. Something like that XD

“Why does it matter to you? [comma instead] You ugly little girl!” Maxwell retorted. Zek growled and got ready to pounce on any given moment.

...and crouched into a defensive position, ready to pounce when needed. It sounded awkward. When you plan to use 'got,' there's usually another way you can phrase the sentence.

...Aly said, trying desperately to find something horrible to call Maxwell, but nothing was coming up.

...desperately thinking of an insult, but nothing was coming up.

Zek was, of course, sending her thoughts of rage, [s]and attacking[/s] hoping to attack the boy.

He had bright red hair; freckles littered his nose and teeth that were crooked. He reminded Aly of a goat. A bright red goat.

The first sentence seemed randomly set in there. IF there's a way to smooth this description into the story, like he grinned, displaying his yellow crooked teeth or something like that, that would be preferred.

“Yeah!” Maxwell shouted, spraying spit all down Aly’s shirt but the rain quickly washed it away.

I don't think you can spit while saying "Yeah" without trying really hard, lol. Also, one can't really watch rain wash off spit from a shirt.

She glanced at Aly and suddenly she pounced, throwing herself upon the boy.

I thought she pounced Aly 'til I saw the last word. She glanced at Aly before pouncing on the boy.

I have to go eat, so I'll come back and finish if no one else takes over. It's good so far, though!

Jabber, the One and Only!

**Edit: I felt sooo bad about leaving halfway through. I terribly apologize!

The girl tried to send mental images to Zek, but they bounced off [s]like[/s] as if there was a barrier between their minds

This doesn't sound like a simile comparison, because the second half of it (after 'like') seems too realistic. Either say it straight out that there's a mental barrier between them or change the metaphor.

“Bloody… I’m telling father about this!” he turned to run away, [period instead] “You’ll regret ever setting that bloody cat on me!”

It turned out that Maxwell did tell his father. [comma instead] And Mr. Hunt made Uncle Steven pay thirty-two pounds.

I'm letting you get away with starting sentences with but but and is kind of going too far sometimes. ^^;

It was all taken care of rather quickly, [period instead] [s]because[/s] Uncle Steven had just received his money from work, and so he handed it all over.

they had made an agreement that sixteen was half and that would be acceptable.

Well I sure hope they agree 16 is half of 32.

Aly had never [s]even[/s] owned more than ten pounds in her entire life!

Unfortunately, I'm no expert on English money.

Every time that Auntie Clair said that, it made Aly grow to hate rich people .

If she were to be rich, Aly would have to eat like that every day. And she could not stand it.

Combine or delete and.

Zek coughed out a hoarse laugh, reading Aly’s thoughts.

A laughing leopard?

“Oh!” she cried, [period instead] “Steven is home. He’s too early. The tea isn’t done…” She quickly pulled the ladle out from the tea pot and set it near the fireplace. Auntie Clair sighed and [s]rapped[/s] drummed her fingers against her long plaid dress.

Her other hand was up on her forehead, complaining that Uncle Steven was home too early.

Her other hand was up on her forehead as she complained more and more about Uncle Steven's early arrival. Your sentence said her hand was complaining and there was repetition of home too early.

They looked back [s]just in time[/s] to see Uncle Steve open the door and slam it shut.

long black hair that went past his ears and a pair of deep brown eyes [s]that glared[/s] glaring down at her.

“Steven? What’s wrong, dear?” Auntie Clair asked. She received no answer.

“It’s that… that brat! Look at what she’s done!” Uncle Steven pointed a long, calloused finger at Aly, who didn’t speak. Her eyes were widened and her face softened.

Whoop, she did receive an answer. Change that. Also, how can one's eyes widen and yet their face soften? She's either afraid or calm. Pick one.

The persecutions rose until the trial where Isaac was to be hung if proven guilty.

This needs to be redone. I can't make sense of it .XD

Isaac’s brother-in-law, Joseph Whitner, happened to be a member of Parliament at that time...

It was clear to them that Isaac had obviously killed the Prime Minister.

They both mean the same thing in this instance. Just use one.

*researches English gov't*

It's up to you, but either way, you'll have to make adjustments to your story. Ooh, got the page up. *reads* Says here that William Pitt was Prime Minister in 1804. So, yes, they did have Prime Ministers and Parliament and the whole deal. Probably changed over the years, but so did America, lol.

Hopefully that helps you make up your mind. *looked at Wikipedia*

I actually liked this part more. It was an actual story I could follow, and I liked Zek. She's my favorite so far. Keep writing!

Jabber, the One and Only!

Okay! Sorry for my lateness, my internet randomly gave up on life last night, and was only reluctantly resurrected this afternoon.

There was a series of events that led to Lord Isaac’s downfall which I believe are of the greatest importance.

This is an awesome first sentence. Excellent. ^_^

Elias Isaac was a man of incredible wealth and power. He was elected as the Supreme Judge of London in the primitive seventeenth century, and climbed up the political ladder until he was at his zenith. Lord Isaac cared for the successful and thriving nation of the wealthy. The prosperous were invited to join in Parliament and could pass laws and decrees, which would aid the rich.

The poor roamed the streets as pitiful beggars. They were outcasts of the rich, like a wounded lamb in the midst of healthy sheep. The needy would rarely find shelter from the cold, grueling days. They would work for little money, performing tasks that the rich found disgusting. The poor had no other choice than surrender to their own fate. The royalty surrounded them, giving up nothing but an insignificant glance downward onto the streets, where the poor were upon their knees, holding out their hands and begging.

These two paragraphs felt to me a little like showing, rather than telling. But I can see how you're trying to get past the scene setting and on to the action, so... it sorta works. ...I dunno what I'm talking about. XD

In the next bit... I was momentarily confused, because when you said "the Prime Minister," I thought you were talking about Isaac. Maybe you could make it clearer by giving the soon-to-be-dead old Prime Minister a name? That way, it will be easy to tell who you're taking about.

I liked the last few paragraphs to the first segment, they were startling, unexpected, and generally well-done.

Zek was of course, sending her thoughts of rage and attacking the boy.

This wording seemed a little odd... "wanting to attack the boy" might be clearer, because the first impression I got was that Zek was actually attacking the boy.

Every time that Auntie Clair said that it made Aly grow to hate rich people.

This wording slipped me up, too. I was sitting there for probably a full minute trying to figure out what it said. Maybe you need a comma after "that"? Or maybe I just need more sleep. XD

“It’s that… that brat! Look at what she’s done!” Uncle Steven pointed a long, calloused finger at Aly, who didn’t speak. Her eyes were widened and her face softened.

Maybe I'm just missing something, but Uncle Steven's anger seems kinda... belated. Wasn't it a couple days ago that Aly and Zek got into that fight? It seems strange that he would get upset now and not two days ago. But I'm probably just missing the point. XD

About your England-related-dilemma... I can't offer much advice, but I one of my favorite fantasy book series (which I'm rereading at this precise moment, by the way) has a similar setting. That author handled it by having the story set in what is undeniably Britain... but a sort of... parallel reality version of it, I suppose. The same world, but with a few steps along the way changed? That way, he could put precisely anyone he wanted in whatever positions of power necessary for the story. I'm probably not explaining this very well. XD

In any case, this is really good! You've got a new fan, my friend-- I can't wait for the next segment. ^_^

Thanks for all of the crits and stuff. Jabber, you have truely saved this story. thanks you a bazillion for finding that there were Prime Ministers in the 1800s. You have no idea how much you have saved this story.

So, for all of those who helped with grammar and stuff, thanks a ton. You've been really helpful. I hope you like chapter three!

Of Terror and War

3

Dark, gray smoke billowed into the cloudy sky as Aly and Zek made their way towards the canal. They both walked in silence. Zek would occasionally glance up towards Aly, but the girl made no attempt to converse with her.

The canal was located just east of a factory. The building would periodically send dark smoke raising into the sky, hence the smoke that day. The canal was also home to a group of boys named the Rats. They were poor town boys who met every day to make war with the Dogs, another group of boys.

But, however, this day Aly and Zek found themselves alone. The swishing and calming sound of the canal rushing downward made everything seem peaceful. A thick forest on the east side, giving Aly and Zek a perfect hiding spot to get away from the world, surrounded the channel. Aly sat down on a nearby stump.

Zek curled up around Aly’s feet and sent her calming emotions and Aly sighed.

“I still can’t believe that Uncle Steven would do that to me. I mean, Zek, I have never seen him shout like that in my life,” Aly muttered, looking into the water rushing past her. Zek rubbed her face on Aly’s exposed leg, purring.

“He wasn’t nearly as mad as a few days ago when he had to pay. Why would he do this?”

Zek continued to rub herself on Aly’s leg. The girl smiled and looked down to the snow leopard. Her black-spotted, snow-white fur made it irresistible to hug. Aly sighed and knelt down by Zek.

“I love you, Zek. I love you so much.” She wrapper her arms around Zek and the snow leopard purred loudly. Aly embraced her best friend for as long as she could, wanting to never let go. Tears streamed down Aly's face, wetting Zek's beautiful fur.

Zek sent loving feelings to her friend and Aly accepted them gratefully. They lay there for a few more moments, Aly grasping onto her fur. The water continued to run down the canal, giving both of the girls the most peaceful feeling that they would feel in a long time.

Suddenly, Aly felt another kind of emotion entering her mind. She down at Zek. “What’s wrong?”

Zek shook her head, her fur bouncing. Aly felt curiosity and she looked around.

“Who’s there?” she asked quietly. It wasn’t normal to feel emotions from other animals. Why was she picking up emotions from something other than Zek?

It was then that a raven flew down from a tall tree, spreading its wings and chirping loudly.

Aly stood up and backed away, wide eyed. Zek also joined her, watching the bird’s every moves.

“What do you want?” Aly addressed the raven hotly. Zek growled in her throat and Aly placed her hand on her back.

The child was suddenly overwhelmed with feelings. She gasped and clapped her hands on her head. “Stop! Stop, stop, stop!” she cried.

The bird instantly obeyed and looked curiously at the girl. Aly regained her composure and said, “What does that mean?”

The bird chirped and sent more emotions into Aly’s mind slowly. The girl could feel terror, war, and murders. What was going on?

She looked at Zek and asked, “What’s going on?” Aly received no answer.

The bird chirped louder and sent images to Aly. It was then that she finally understood what was going on. In the images that she obtained, Aly could make out an army. They were in the grasslands, red cloths wrapped around their right arms.

“Soldiers!” she whispered and looked at the raven. “What’s going on? Where did you see these soldiers?”

The bird sent more mental pictures of the army. Only this time they were fighting. There were guns and weapons of war.

“Where are they? Are they coming here? Why would they want to come to East Bristol?”

Many questions swarmed in Aly’s head. Why would Lord Isaac want to come to East Bristol? There was nothing for him here. Nothing. Unless… unless he was coming here to find slaves. Aly shuddered that thought away.

“Raven, where are they?” Aly asked again. She was answered by more mental pictures of the soldiers marching on and on… until they reached the gates of North Bristol.

“Zek! We need to tell someone about this! The soldiers are coming! Come on! We need to tell someone!”

Zek looked at Aly then back at the Raven. She growled in her throat.

“Raven, I need you to fly up ahead and tell me where they are. Is that all right? We need to tell someone! Hurry!” Aly turned around and ran off towards the factory building.

Zek continued to look at the Raven. She growled again and then bounded off towards her friend. The bird took off into the skies.

*

“What? What is it, Zek?” Aly questioned. Zek kept flooding her with emotions of betrayal.

“What’s wrong? Who’s going to betray us?” she asked, bending down to embrace Zek.

She received a mental picture of the Raven. “Zek! The Raven isn’t going to abandon us. I promise. C’mon, we have to tell the factory workers about the soldiers.”

Once again, Aly stood up and ran towards the large building. Zek followed hesitantly behind her. When they reached the tall wooden doors, Aly pounded on them with all of her strength, yelling, “Sir! Sir! Someone, please open the doors!”

Zek caught up to her and growled as loud as she could. Aly looked startled.

“What is it?”

There was a chirp and Aly looked up. The Raven was flying overhead and started to send Aly pictures again. The soldiers were breaking down the North Bristol gate.

“Keep in contact with me!” Aly shouted to the Raven. The bird squawked and Aly pounded on the door again – but her hand never hit the hard wood.

She gasped and pulled back. There was a man standing in the doorway. His face was rough and he had a white powedery substance covering his face, much like flour.

“Sir! Oh, thank heavens, sir! I just found out that Lord Isaac’s soldiers are going into North Bristol! Sir, we need to do something!”

The man stared at her. He was rather large and his clothes were droopy, giving him the sense of someone that Aly wouldn’t like to be alone with.

“Who told you this?” the man growled.

“A… a… a raven did, sir.”

“How old are you, little girl?”

“I’m nine, sir.”

The man looked over at Zek. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Zekyll, my friend. Well, actually she’s my Uncle Steven’s pet, but he lets me play with her.” Zek slipped herself between Aly’s arm and her waist, purring.

“Sir, there is a large amount of soldiers coming. And they are breaking into North Bristol. Please, sir, we have to do something!”

"Go home, girl. No one will listen to a bloody little girl's pathetic lies."The gruff man slammed the door on them, leaving Aly and Zek absolutely stunned.

“What? Sir! Sir, please!” Aly pleaded but the door never opened again.

She looked at Zek. “What now? Who are we going to tell?” Zek replied with an image of Uncle Steven and Auntie Clair.

“But they won’t believe me! They never do!” Aly complained. Zek growled. “But, Zek, they're coming! The soldiers are going to kill everyone unless we have all of the army people come out and fight! Where are the army people?”

Zek shook her head. She looked up into the cloudy sky and sniffed. Zek sent images of rain falling.

“No! It can’t rain now!” Aly cried, looking into the sky. “And where is that bloody bird?”

Zek growled again and sent betrayal into Aly’s mind. She shook it away.

“Raven hasn’t betrayed us. Zek, why are you always thinking negatively? I promise that it… hasn’t…” Aly’s voice wasn’t so sure.

Zek growled and smelled rain once more. When Aly received the notion she nodded.

“Fine. We’ll go back home and tell Uncle Steven and Auntie Clair about it. I really hope they believe us,” Aly said and looked at Zek. “What if you’re right about the bird? I mean, why would a Raven of all animals betray us? Why would it even do something like that?”

Zek and Aly quickly walked home, just past the market place and the dairy farm. All the way home they were arguing if the Raven either had told them a lie about the army, or if it was telling the truth.

“If we don’t hear from that bird soon, I’ll believe you. Let’s just tell Uncle Steven and Auntie Clair about this first, okay?”

The snow leopard agreed.

Hey, 3B! ^^ Happy to help! Wanted to double check (since I'm not English, had to use Wikipedia ) so I could help you out as to how to change it if needed.

The building would periodically send dark smoke raising into the sky, hence the smoke that day.

The building periodically sent dark puffs of smoke into the sky. I didn't much like that hence part, since I didn't see the smoke in the first place. ^^;

But, however, this day Aly and Zek found themselves alone. The swishing and calming sound of the canal rushing downward made everything seem peaceful.

Loved these sentences.

A thick forest on the east side, giving Aly and Zek a perfect hiding spot to get away from the world, surrounded the canal [can we replace this with a word besides canal? Ignore repetition ^^]. The two girls found a tree stump and Aly sat on it.

Aly sat down on a nearby stump... is a perfect start to a sentence.

Zek curled up around Aly’s feet and sent her calming emotions. [a]and[/a] Aly sighed.

Her beautiful white snow fur was spotted with black, making her irresistible to hug.

The black spots made it irresistible to hug the leopard? Haha, maybe her beautiful fur is a better reason? Her black-spotted, snow-white fur made it irresistible to hug. Or something like that. Delete 'beautiful' since you mention how beautiful it is later on when she's crying. ^^

Aly sighed and got off of the stump and knelt down to Zek.

Aly sighed and knelt down by Zek. I don't think you have to tell the reader that she got off the stump so she can kneel. That's probably a given.

Tears streamed off of Aly’s face and it wetted Zek’s beautiful fur.

Tears streamed down Aly's face, wetting Zek's beautiful fur.

Zek sent warm and loving feelings to her friend and Aly accepted them gratefully.

Choose one or the other so you don't repeat and like that.

She looked [s]up[/s] down [s]and[/s] at Zek.

Zek shook her head, her fur bouncing. Aly [s]felt curiosity and she[/s] looked around her surroundings, wondering what could [worry] Zek.

Fur bounces? oO

Suddenly, a [s]long[/s] raven flew down from a tall tree, spreading its wings and chirping loudly.

Used suddenly already. Wait a while longer.

Aly regained her [s]position[/s] composure and said, “What does that mean?”

The girl could feel terror, war, and murders.

They were in grasslands. They all wore red on their arm.

They were in the grasslands, red cloths wrapped around their [right] arms.

“What’s going on? Where did you see these soldiers?”

There were guns. There were weapons of war.

I'd accept this if there was a third There sentence, lol. Edit this. ^^ There were guns, weapons of war. Or something.

Unless… unless he was coming here to [s]take[/s] find slaves.

The soldiers are coming!

Nothing wrong here, just wanted to say this reminded me of Paul Revere. The British are coming! The British are coming! Lol!

The bird took off into the skies.

...bending down to embrace [s]herself again with[/s] Zek.

“Sir! Sir! Someone, please open the doors!”

Why sir? Would there not be more than one person in there?

“Keep sending me pictures!”

Maybe "Keep in contact with me" or something else? You already said sending pictures in previous sentence.

His face was rough and he had [s]some kind of[/s] a white powdery substance covering his face, much like flour [?].

Please, sir, we have to do something!”

“Go home, girl. No one wants to listen to a bloody little girl.” The gruff man slammed the door on [s]her face[/s] ['them' or 'shut'], leaving Aly and Zek absolutely stunned.

"Go home, girl. No one will listen to a bloody little girl's pathetic lies." Or something like that, a bit more realistic.

“But, Zek, [s]they are[/s] they're coming!

Zek, why are you always thinking [s]negative[/s] negatively [?]?

Zek growled [s]once more[/s] and smelled rain once more. When Aly received the notion, she nodded.

All the way home, they were arguing [s]that[/s] whether/if the Raven either had told them a lie about the army, or whether/if it was telling the truth.

Preferably if.

[s]Just,[/s] let’s just tell Uncle Steven and Auntie Clair about this first, ok?”

Use either OK or okay.

And just like that, their story had begun.

Don't think this is needed.

Overall, very good! I lurves Zek! *squeals* She's so cute! ^^ I pointed out what I had to up above, so nothing much to say down here. I can tell you're improving, though. Bravo! You're writing's getting better!

Keep writing!

Jabber, the One and Only!