Heritage - Chapter 1.1

Hundreds of sharp spires rose from the depths, some in uneven pairs or trios, some with terraces providing security from the yawning gulf below. Haraan's view was that of an approach to this collection of needles, deceptively thin at distance, despite many of them possessing the footprint of an airship hangar. Frail nets of light meandered down from the surface a kinetic but constant glow of blue, while incandescent points ran in ruled lines and whirling patterns on the spires themselves.

Perhaps those points formed letters, or even words, words two hundred feet tall, but Haraan couldn't be sure. Different silhouettes moved between the spires — some were like little nebulas, others like cannonballs, others still like string propelled by wind.

The right side of Haraan's vision distorted, perspective failed. There was a split-second lurch. Concavity. Then, as violently as it had left, reality returned, depositing him in the guts of the strange city. Up close, the nebulas resolved into schools of yellow-tipped fish, which passed through him as if he wasn't there. Though not cacophonous, a variety of conversations, some growled, others sung, came to his ears in fleeting snatches.

"...a eka te padriai, sambooya..."

"...sovno dosmishtyeh jooar..."

"...nus nus, klaveh dai — ah! Iausketen!"

Haraan only caught brief glimpses of the conversants: the corner of a thick, fluked tail; a frill, impossibly orange this deep underwater. He was not disturbed. Even though this place was new to him, he could count on one thing in it that would not.

His perspective shifted again, like an air pocket erupting from a pool of liquid metal. When his sight returned to him, he was much further into the city than before, where the spires clustered closer, reached higher toward the storm-turned surface. The tranquility of this inner sanctum surprised Haraan; the sound had cut off as he could cut off a stream of water drumming against the bottom of a deep sink. Only his eyes could serve him in this shadowed place.

Over there! Before it could disappear behind a corner, he spotted it, a brief flash of white against the gloom, and gave chase. It wasn't a very long chase, as his target was either unaware or uncaring of his presence and made no attempt to flee.

It began with a reptilian head, decorated with frills and a pair of swept-back horns. From there flowed its long neck, which became a streamlined trunk and four flippers, ending with a sweeping, fluked tail. This described many creatures Haraan had seen before, except for one thing: it was the only one of its kind to bear that curling black-and-white coloration.

What do you want from me? he asked it.

The creature wheeled around to face him with flared dorsal crest. They were several yards apart from each other, and yet Haraan could see deep, desperate intensity peeking from behind its eyes.

In his voice, the dragon said, "I want to be you again."

"Mr. Siarke!"

Haraan's insides tumbled. He found himself with his forehead buried into the crook of his sleeve, his nose flattened against his National History binder. Was that drool at the corner of his mouth? No, there wasn't any.

Oh — he snapped his head upright, directly into Mam Ghieri's furious glare. She had her yardstick leveled at his face, a terrifying threat despite the distance to the front of the room.

"I did not just see you sleeping in my class, did I?"

Haraan opened his mouth to say "no" but his throat balked. "I'm awake" was his next option, but that would confirm he had nodded off in class. Should he apologize? What good would that do? Remain silent? Even worse. What did he need to say? What was the one line that could blow it all over and make people laugh—

Mam Ghieri slapped her yardstick against the chalkboard. "Well anytime now, sweetheart, let's hear your answer."

There was no escape. "Yes, Mam, you did."

Mam Ghieri batted a sprig of blond hair out of her eye. She had perfected the technique of her stare so it was rumored she could set puppies on fire, but so far it was only the wayward student who suffered her wrath. "Well, isn't that courteous? While your fellow students are here working their behinds off and doing their best to learn for the Exam, you're wasting your time off in some dancing dream world, and now that I have to get your butt in gear and fill you in on what you missed, you're wasting everyone else's."

“Oh snap, Haraan!” someone called.

“Snuff it, Darian.” Mam Ghieri shut off the projector with a violent shove. "Do you know who we are — excuse me, were discussing earlier?"

Haraan had to put off the bemused looks of his classmates' faces (wolves, each and every one of them wolves, waiting for him to suffer and die at the alpha's fangs!) as he looked at his notes. There were bits about the exploration of the Winter Run in the late 700's, expeditions by some guys named Gaff and Nordusk, drooping scribbles while Haraan's consciousness had faded. The last legible word before his pencil gashed down the page and ceased was "Brenner."

"The Brenner expedition," Haraan declared, panic barely suppressed in his chest.

"Breathtaking." The way she said it, her breath hadn't been close to being taken away. "Would you mind if I asked you some questions about it?"

This was it. The three question drill. "No, Mam."

"What did Brenner accomplish?"

Haraan scanned his notes again. "Er..."

"Eyes where I can see them, genius."

Shybk! That wasn't enough time at all. "Did he..." synthesizing and delivering made-up information, "get farther than Gaff and Nordusk?"

Laughter erupted from around the room. A good part of the boys and some of the girls began shouting, "She! Brenner was a she, dude!" The other girls shook their heads in dismissal.

"Mr. Siarke," Mam Ghieri said over the din, "Do you wish to annoy me by confusing Tania Brenner for a man?"

"Not at all, Mam."

"Then redeem yourself here. What did she find at the end of the Run?"

Haraan couldn't. His mind had all but shut down, leaving him with only the painful, uncomplicated truth. "I don't know."

"Did she come back?"

"I don't know."

The projector roared back to life for Haraan to scribble a few miserable lines before Mam Ghieri closed in for the kill. "One half out of three. And I am your savior for giving you that half point after that miserable puke-pile you call an answer. Brenner made it to the end of the Run at in 778. There she discovered the literal end, that giant waterfall you see up here, the one that ate Gaff and Nordusk. That's why they didn't come back. Easy multiple-choice on the test; if you miss this question at the end of the year, I will kill you. And that goes for the rest of you, too!"

The class came to an abrupt silence.

"From you, Haraan, I expect a paper on the Brenner expedition, outset, transit, findings, consequences, significance. Everything. Three hundred words. The assignment will be into me tomorrow or it's your butt. Am I understood?"

He almost wanted to cry on the inside, but that wouldn't do so during his first Academy year. He swallowed his shame and replied, "Yes, Mam."

"Okay!" Suddenly, the tyrant expression fizzled from her face, and she was an enthusiastic, cheery lady in a bright blouse, simply preparing her students for the National Curriculum Exam, Modern History. "So Brenner brings her report back to the Congress Assembled — not the Congress Ordinary, they'll get you on that one — and all the senators were all 'Whoa, that's so neat!' at what she brought back ... "

***

Outside the classroom, a tall adolescent in a faded longcoat waited with his nose buried in a Saig novel. Fingerless gloves sheathed his hands, while his hair was best described as a corn muffin gone terribly, terribly wrong. Despite his disheveled appearance, the other students at the Academy never gave him a second look as they walked past in their cliques.

To his right, the door creaked open. A voice within blurted, "Haveagooddaymamghieri" before its owner tumbled through the threshold and shut the door behind him.

While he was still unnoticed, the time was right to strike.

------

Words: 1357. Chapter One is 4365 words long, so that means three pieces, unless you, the reader, feel comfortable reading on longer, in which case I ask you to let me know.

It's about time I get tho this.

Hundreds of sharp spires rose from the depths, some in uneven pairs or trios, some with terraces providing security from the yawning gulf below.

Not good...I'm already lost with this first image. I have a vague idea what you're trying to say, but I'm really not sure. Part of it comes from not being able to picture these spires. Are they large? Are they small? Are they buildings or natural formations?

Haraan's view was that of an approach to this collection of needles, deceptively thin at distance, despite many of them possessing the footprint of an airship hangar. Frail nets of light meandered down from the surface a kinetic but constant glow of blue, while incandescent points ran in ruled lines and whirling patterns on the spires themselves.

Perhaps those points formed letters, or even words, words two hundred feet tall, but Haraan couldn't be sure. Different silhouettes moved between the spires — some were like little nebulas, others like cannonballs, others still like string propelled by wind.

The imagery here is very confusing, which is a bit upsetting since this seems to have potential to be very beautiful. I can't say what specifically bothers me, but the trouble is that I can't see at all what you're trying to describe here.

The right side of Haraan's vision distorted, perspective failed. There was a split-second lurch. Concavity. Then, as violently as it had left, reality returned, depositing him in the guts of the strange city. Up close, the nebulas resolved into schools of yellow-tipped fish, which passed through him as if he wasn't there. Though not cacophonous, a variety of conversations, some growled, others sung, came to his ears in fleeting snatches.

This paragraph makes more sense than the previous ones (though I still don't understand why any of this is happening). I like the description of how he transported here; it uses few words to give a strong impression. I'm particularly in love with the single sentence "Concavity". So short, but it has a powerful impact--I can see exactly what Haraan is seeing.

Even though this place was new to him, he could count on one thing in it that would not.

"In that would not"?

His perspective shifted again, like an air pocket erupting from a pool of liquid metal.

This, however, I can't picture.

Over there! Before it could disappear behind a corner, he spotted it, a brief flash of white against the gloom, and gave chase. It wasn't a very long chase, as his target was either unaware or uncaring of his presence and made no attempt to flee.

Random question that suddenly popped in my mind: if Haran is underwater, is he swimming? The story's being rather vague on how exactly he's moving.

This described many creatures Haraan had seen before, except for one thing: it was the only one of its kind to bear that curling black-and-white coloration.

I don't know why, but this sentence bothers me. It feels like lines from a textbook instead of engaging prose.

Haraan's insides tumbled. He found himself with his forehead buried into the crook of his sleeve, his nose flattened against his National History binder. Was that drool at the corner of his mouth? No, there wasn't any.

Oh, I understand now why the previous scene was so odd--it was his dream! Well done.

However, the transition from dream to wakefulness happened rather...suddenly. You'd built up this beautiful dream-like atmosphere but tore it violently away. Which might be what you were aiming for, but this is way too sudden.

Perhaps it's just personal taste, but I believe the waking up could be handled more dramatically if you had a single, short, one-sentence paragraph ("The world dissolved" or something like that), and then another paragraph describing Haraan slowly gaining his senses. From my experience (I should know...I just woke from a horrific nightmare), people take some time to awaken from deep dreams.

Haraan opened his mouth to say "no" but his throat balked. "I'm awake" was his next option, but that would confirm he had nodded off in class. Should he apologize? What good would that do? Remain silent? Even worse. What did he need to say? What was the one line that could blow it all over and make people laugh—

I like this. It gives us insight into Haraan's character and his conflict is very realistic. If I was caught asleep in class, I'd be feeling the same way.

And I like the image of Haraan's throat balking. It's a creative way of describing a common experience.

"Well, isn't that courteous? While your fellow students are here working their behinds off and doing their best to learn for the Exam, you're wasting your time off in some dancing dream world, and now that I have to get your butt in gear and fill you in on what you missed, you're wasting everyone else's."

I like this dialogue as well; it's a great way to characterize Mam Ghieri and definitely seems like something a teacher would actually say. ^^

“Snuff it, Darian.”

This is terrible, but...I have a character by the exact same name in my novel. XD What to do, what to do...

(wolves, each and every one of them wolves, waiting for him to suffer and die at the alpha's fangs!)

Very nice image.

Shybk!

?

That wasn't enough time at all. "Did he..." synthesizing and delivering made-up information, "get farther than Gaff and Nordusk?"

The projector roared back to life for Haraan to scribble a few miserable lines before Mam Ghieri closed in for the kill.

Wait...am I missing something, because why would Mam Ghieri suddenly turn the projector back on again?

Brenner made it to the end of the Run at in 778.

I don't think you need the "at".

Fingerless gloves sheathed his hands, while his hair was best described as a corn muffin gone terribly, terribly wrong.

Again, a very nice, concrete image.

Overall thoughts:

I liked this. These first 1500 words were enough to draw me into your world and leave me desperate for more, so you've done your job with a first chapter right. I particularly love how you've set up the story so that there's a distinction between two worlds--the dream world and the real one. You've distinguished them well by the styles of their prose. The dream world uses a more elaborate style with rich imagery, while the real world uses a matter-of-fact, to-the-point style. Yet both are told from Haraan's perspective, which gives us a fascinating look into the difference between people when they're awake and when they're dreaming. I'm a sucker for stories that deal with dreams, though, so you've already captivated me. ^^

And I like how the "real world" is actually another fantasy world. It's become a cliche to have a fantasy dream world but have the real world be our world, so it's interesting that the "real world" in this case is another fantasy land. You did a very good job at dropping worldbuilding tidbits without infodumping; for example, the "three questions" scene not only developed your characters, but let the reader know some about the history of the world. I'm very intrigued to find out more, and I assume you'll be unveiling more bit-by-bit with each upcoming section. I like how within these first 1500 words there are already several important mysteries set up--for example, Haraan and the dragon thing, and the young man outside the door. Gets the reader questioning things from the get-go.

The only thing I didn't like was that the dream passages could be nigh incomprehensible. I understand the poetic air you were aiming at, but honestly most of those sentences were more confusing than beautiful. I had the feeling it was underwater, which is indeed something different from most firmly above-ground fantasy stories, but was never certain. The first paragraph lost me completely, which is bad because it's supposed to be the hook. It is difficult to revise for clarity especially if you already have a clear image already in your head of what the setting looks like, but the reader can't cut open your head and see the same images you do, so you need to spell it out in the most concrete terms for the reader.

In contrast, some of the waking passages felt sparse. I'd have liked more on the setting, or even how the characters look--I actually don't know anything about Haraan right now, except that he's male and dreams in class. I'm not even sure how old he is, which is slightly hurting my ability to empathize with him. Now, I understand that this is only the first 1500 words, but even so you should lay concrete details in your setting from the beginning. Even minor things will say a lot about both your world and your character. For example, Haraan, if he's interested in mechanical things, might pay particular attention to the cuckoo wall clock; or if he's a lady's man, he'll notice what the girls are wearing. Or maybe he likes keeping his eyes on what's directly in front of him and notices the graffiti in his desk. Maybe he likes his personal space so is annoyed by how close the desks are jammed together. Such details will make the character more relatable and more of a real person, and as an added bonus solidify the setting in the reader's eye.

All in all, very good work, and I'm looking forward for more already. It did feel rather short, so I think you could do with longer segments next time.

PM if you have quesitons, and the best of luck in your endeavors.

Hey there user whose name I don’t know how to pronounce. Here to review, as requested. So let’s begin with some nitpicks.

Nitpicks
I should mention, I didn’t really look into grammar, punctuation, or spelling. There’s a reason we have spell checker, right. Plus, Bickazer totally shredded through here before me.

…some were like little nebulas, others like cannonballs, others still like string propelled by wind.

Okay, for starters, the word ‘others’ is repetitive. And generally, repetition is frowned upon. Another thing I want to mention is that, well, this particular portion seems to feel rather dragged out, killing the feel of the paragraph. Try to add some life to it.

the sound had cut off as he could cut off a stream

Here again, ‘cut’ is repetitive.

It began with a reptilian head, decorated with frills and a pair of swept-back horns. From there flowed its long neck, which became a streamlined trunk and four flippers, ending with a sweeping, fluked tail.

This is considered a bit of an information dump. Throwing on a load of details all at once will often just be filtered out of your reader’s minds and they won’t remember it. But by writing the details in gradually, the reader is generally more likely to remember these details. And by the sound of things, these details are important.

Confusion

Right away, I had no idea what was going on at the opening of this story. I didn’t understand that this was a dream sequence. I would recommend putting this into italics. This would definitely lessen the confusion.

Dialogue

It’s actually refreshing to read some dialogue today. I’ve barely seen any in the last three pieces I’ve reviewed. For the most part, the dialogue flowed naturally enough, but there was one problem I wanted to bring up.

"So Brenner brings her report back to the Congress Assembled — not the Congress Ordinary, they'll get you on that one — and all the senators were all 'Whoa, that's so neat!' at what she brought back ... "

So this is just way too, like, teenager for Mam Ghieri to suddenly shift to. Try to find a middle ground between this teen feel and the sudden strict attitude that she had before.

OVERALL
THE DREAM

You start off with this dream sequence, which isn’t very unusual for a story. I think we’ve all seen it before. And you’re definitely had my attention, but for the wrong reason. I read on because I didn’t understand. And most readers won’t read on for this. The reason I was think I couldn’t understand is because the imagery was hard to understand. I mean, are we underwater, or in some dragon-land. We need to see the dream, not just read it.

THE CLASSROOM
Well, this wasn’t nearly as difficult to understand…but now I’m wondering if this whole story takes place in some not-reality reality. If it is, you’ll want to establish the Whats? Wheres? And Whens? Of your story world.

Anyways, this may not be the most original idea I’ve seen in a while, but if you execute it correctly, it could be amazing. It’s a matter of keeping it interesting. Good luck.

~lilymoore