Spoiler
Okay! This is the first novel that I've started in a long time that I feel confident about finishing! It's also the first actually piece that I've written in first person, so I'm a bit out-of-practice as far as that goes. >.< What I'm worried about the most here is whether or not the chapter is info-dumpy, or if it lack info and jumps into things a little too quickly. I'm mostly satisfied with it, I think? But I am in desperate need of a second opinion.
I'm also trying to think of a better name to call the spirit that possesses Jude. "Rage" just doesn't seem very... original. Any suggestions at all on that are more than welcome. >.<
I'm also trying to think of a better name to call the spirit that possesses Jude. "Rage" just doesn't seem very... original. Any suggestions at all on that are more than welcome. >.<
Chapter 1
Unimpressive, some may go as far as to say disgusting; scum on the belly of an Above Sea whale, or maybe a rotten tooth that still clung stubbornly to a rabid dog’s mouth. Oh, but I was far below filth- so, so far below it. A one-eyed, six-fingered brute. Of course, it should be abundantly clear to most people that I deserve to die. In fact, they needed me to die.
Too bad I can’t throw myself off the nearest cliff. I’m not immortal; I haven’t been stuck in blasted Kaail for hundreds of thousands of years or any similar nonsense-- there were just two people in this blasted kingdom that really needed me. Three, if you counted my less-than-marvelous master and benefactor. Poor Marcello would go bankrupt if I wasn’t there to amuse those blood-thirsty savages he called an audience. Not that I could point fingers or anything- but at least they had a choice.
I rolled over in my cot, letting my mind gnaw on the same things that it always gnawed on. The rustling sheets were an unusually deafening sound in that claustrophobic little room-- quite an unnerving fact, if you thought about it. I was studying one particular drawing that was pinned to the wagon wall- a diagram that depicted just what I was. The pressure-points that made me collapse, the areas of my body that were most affected by the beast inside of me, the herbs and concoctions that would arouse that beast. It was, quite literally, my demon. That detestable diagram and a few drawings of beasts from the Above-Sea had been my only companions for the past few hours, and a minute part of me had begun to crave the company of another human being. Even Marcello would be preferable to the ever-silent sketches. Most of me, however, was appreciative of the solitude. The part that my darling demon Rage controlled fed off of my loneliness, and it loathed what could control it. It loathed Marcello to the fullest.
Poor Rage. Pity, really, that I couldn’t bring myself to feel any real sympathy for the spirit.
The door creaked open, both convenient and inconveniently. Little footsteps plodded across the wooden floor, making such a sad, hollow sound. Underneath those floorboards, there wasn’t anything all too solid to support them. It was something that you felt more than heard, and something that made you feel even more lonely-- even with another in the same room.
I was vaguely aware of a presence hovering over me; vaguely aware of two round, hazel eyes staring expectantly at the back of my head. It wasn’t hard to sense the presence frown, either.
“You really should learn how to knock, Lietta,” I murmured. Turning would only worry her further; she’d see the red rimming my only eye, or notice how swollen the lids were. Four hours in tears did things to a man. “I might have been changing, and wouldn’t that have been humiliating for the both of us?”
Once again, her scowl was more or less felt. Blast her for making me feel even a twinge of guilt. “Changing for what, pray tell?”
I opened my eye, preparing it for when I would have to actually have to turn around and face her. “Bed, obviously.” Hallelujah, my tone was still dry as ever. At least she wouldn’t be able to hear how upset I was.
“It’s barely three in the afternoon, Jude. You’ve got a ways to go before you have to start thinking about getting ready for bed.” I had to admit, her little rebuttal made perfect sense. Too bad it felt like the middle of the night.
“Training, then.”
“You train in the same clothes you wear all the time, moron.”
Thank you, Lietta, for your wonderful input. “Well then I have absolutely no idea, but my point is still completely valid. You should knock before entering.”
Lietta muttered something that I didn't quite catch under her breath. Of course, I was fairly sure that I didn't want to know what she had said, and so I didn't ask.
She seemed content enough to to wander into the far corner of the wagon and leave me to dig deeper into the layers of my guilt and self-pity; although, the fact that she didn't leave my carriage entirely told me that she cared at least a little bit. To be totally honest, her presence in this claustrophobic little thing was somewhat soothing. Lietta was, in short, one of the two (three, counting Marcello), people who needed me to be here- but, if I'm going to be even more honest, there were times when I depended on her far more than she did on me.
"Do you want me to make you some tea?"
I smiled to myself, the first smile since my little escapade last night. "Yes please. Throw in some of that fowl Dyench-root, would you? I could use the energy." I shifted, pushing myself into a sitting position with my elbows. The dusty old blanket slipped off of my legs, now an ugly red pile next to my feet. I swung one leg over the side of the cot, and the other followed suit. Forcing myself to stand up and keep living was always the hardest part of facing another kill.
"Were you crying?" Lietta's voice had softened substantially, which made me flinch for reasons that were beyond my understanding. That gentle tone always had irked me. Lietta: Master of random-yet-relevant comments that always managed to catch me off my guard.
I rubbed my eye with my fist and focused on the floorboards. "It's still puffy enough for you to tell, huh?" It was utterly humiliating that she could tell- it meant that she had witnesses my incessant wailing one too many times as it was. "I almost lost my last eye by bawling it out, if you really must know." There wasn't much point in hiding it from her at this point. There was a sharp and skeptic mind under that head of brown locks, and a truly soft heart under that thin frame-- as unfortunate as that could be for me sometimes.
She watched me for a moment, features thoughtful and sympathetic "A bit of wine instead, maybe?" The offer caught me off my guard yet again. The last time she had caught me with alcohol in my hand, she had all but strangled me on the spot. "It might take the edge off."
"Tea'll be fine, Lietta." Just in case this was some sort of test. "Marcello's probably drained our entire wine supply by now, anyways."
Lietta paused midway through her turn. A troubled look took hold of her features, and her fingers slid over her forehead, nervously sweeping away a few stray locks of hair. "Actually, while we're on the subject of Marcello, I came to deliver a message from him..." Her voice was hardly a murmur. "I was going to wait until you were less... agitated... to say anything."
My smile fled, taking my spark of happiness away with it. Both of them had probably ended up hiding under a crack in the floorboards below. "What the hell does he want now?" I demanded, secretly praying that fear was not evident in my tone. Marcello only really had one good reason to want to speak with me- I was, after all, his main attraction.
"He wants to discuss another show." She paused, giving me time to absorb the latest news and swallow my dread. Rest assured, that precious few seconds had been necessary. "A series of shows," she continued, gaze set firmly on me. "He also says that he plans on taking your act up a notch." I saw her flinch. “I'm really sorry, Jude."
Sorry far from cut it at this point. Take what up a notch? I had always known that the man was phsycotic, but this was pushing it. "We just had three blasted performances! Back to bloody back! Why, pray tell, does he think he needs more?" I spat to the side, choosing to ignore that one of my favorite sandals was now covered in my own saliva. I clasped my hands behind my back, running my fingers over the nubs that remained of four of them. My legs started moving automatically, pacing rhythmically across the small interior of my wagon.
"What are we having for supper tonight?"
Lietta frowned harder at me. "Stew... But that's a bit irrelevant, don't you think?"
"Perfect. I can drown myself in it. Make sure to get me a deep bowl, would you?" Allowing a thick broth and some chopped carrots entry to my lungs sounded like a formidable way to die. At least it would prove interesting.
I didn’t even have time to turn before Lietta stepped over and smacked me upside the head. “Do it, and I’ll be right behind you, Jude.”
Blast her.
I had honestly been considering death-by-stew. At least it would taste excellent on my way to the afterlife. “You’re not the one who’s expected to go on another killing spree!” I stopped my pacing and spun around to glare at her. “I can’t even remember their faces, Lietta. All I see of them is the carnage afterwards, and quite frankly, it’s sick. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if their deaths were swift- but that?” I shook my head, staring absent-mindedly at the wall.
“I was a Rage at one point too, Jude. Remember?” Lietta sighed, brushing past me to sit on the edge of my bed. I kept glaring; I was hungry for somebody to pin the blame on, and she was currently the only one in my vicinity. “You’re not the only one in this sick act who’s struggling.” She gave the neckline of her dress a sharp tug, revealing half of a ghastly looking scar. A trail of pink that I knew ran from the middle of her neck to the bottom of her left hip. Oh, I remembered alright. Marcello had been all too thrilled that day when his two Rages turned against one another after they had finished with devouring their victim. According to him, the audience had loved it, too. He was much less happy when he found out that Lietta’s Rage had fled, as my little spirit was dominant in the rankings. Or, something along those lines.
This justified the: “I’ve been one for longer,” card I was about to pull on her. “You’ve been rid of Rage for four years, Lietta. Remember? I have more kills to my name, and on top of that, I have to live with the fact that I may have nearly murdered my closest friend while I was under my own spirits control!” My hands dropped to my sides, leaving the ache in my chest fully exposed. I still hadn’t figured out what that ache was, exactly, but it wasn’t pleasant.
“And I cost my closest friend two fingers and someone to share the weight of the whole situation with.” She let out yet another frustrated sigh, and all of her pent up anger seemed to be released with it. Thank Adoni. I watched her expression soften, and I was once again irked for reasons that were still beyond my understanding. “All you did was get rid of my Rage spirit for me, Jude. If you ask me, I owe you a lot of gratitude, and quite possibly my life. All I did for you was make you hurt even more.”
Pretty words for an ex-Rage. She was right, of course, and I felt vain for even allowing the thought to enter my mind; but in the grand scheme of things, she really was right. “Then forgive me for my outburst, Lietta.” I returned her multiple sighs with one of my own. “But if I’m to take another life, I’d much rather it be my own.”
She smiled sadly, and I swear that for the briefest moment, there was a tear in her eye. Did she honestly know how much this was hurting me? “I understand that, Jude. But what about everybody else? Andrea needs you- she depends on both of us to keep Marcello’s grimy hands off of her. And little Eckat- the boy absolutely adores you. Can you imagine what sort of effect your death, especially a death that you brought to yourself, would have on him? Or what of Ayeta? Michael’s cruel to her; and you’re the only one of us with enough fighting skill to keep him away from her.” She stopped talking, eyes pleading with my tattered way of thinking. “Besides, there’s still a chance that we can get rid of your Rage, too.”
She had a point- Marcello’s little circus had me at the heart of it. Or, at least I held a bit more power than some of the others. Marcello’s life would get far too easy with me gone as far as Andrea went- and that was something that I would not allow. And then, there was no way that I would let Michael keep hurting Ayeta. Getting rid of Rage, though, was by far the most enticing.
“I say we take everybody but Michael and make a run for it,” I muttered.
Lietta arched an eyebrow, obviously unimpressed with my thoughts- of perhaps it was my lack of there-of. “And if we run, we lose control ov-”
“Jude!”
Lietta jumped off of the bed, mouth closed, eyes attentive. I remained in my semi-thoughtful, distressed position. It was, after all, what our less-that-beloved Michael was used to.
“What?” I snarled, arms folding both neatly and stubbornly over my chest. The ache was once again concealed.
The door shoved open, and the glare that both Lietta and myself received was... chilling. “Marcello wants to see you. Now. Lietta was supposed to be getting you.”
“She was getting me.” I held my gaze steady, eyes narrowed, but not death-glaring like Michael’s. “I was arguing with her about it, and feel free to tell Marcello that. But, I suppose that I’ll relent now and come along like a good little show-dog, hm?” I crossed the wagon, half-shoving Michael off of the top step, and jumped to the dusty rocks below me.
So much for tea; it was time to see a man about a kill.
What I'm most worried about next is how I'm going to describe the world this takes place in, the magic system, the religion, the looks and culture and all of that nonsense... it's all just a tad complicated. xD But I will definitely try my hardest, and hopefully chapter 2 does clear some things up. ^.^
The plot line seems very interesting 