Young Writers Society

Nightfall
(Alternatively Starfall)

"It is easy to be heavy: hard to be light."
-G.K. Chesterton

“He’s heavy.”

I was practically panting by the time we reached the first mark. After all, it was not every day I had to trudge through the Waste, a 14 stone, unconscious man in my arms. I had the man flung, belly-side down, across my shoulders in an arc, much like one would carry a sack of grain. I had my arms hooked around his own arms and legs. The muscles in my back were strained, and sweat was slicking my skin. The night air prickled the parts of me that were exposed, and my neck itched where the back of my collar chaffed. It was a new uniform, though it looked far from it.

It was a dark night and the moon was just a sliver in a mass of pitch. It was not that much different to any other night, but I was rather used to living in the officers quarters in the city, where everything was heavily lit with lanterns and fairy globes. This nightfall reminded me of my first tour; I spent weeks with the rest of the company deep within the Waste, most of the time in total darkness. We were not allowed to light even the smallest match for fear of detection.

The captain was in my sights, now. He was sauntering across the flat, and I envied him at that moment for the ease in which he walked. He perfectly at home in the dark, traipsing across the uneven ground like it was noon-day in the square.

“Well, buck up, man. We can’t leave him here.” He spoke but his words were so soft that I had to strain to hear them.

I moved to close the gap between us, but made sure that I left more than a stride between us, following in someone’s footsteps is harder than it looks.

“I should take offense to that, Captain.” My lips twitched with the urge to smile, even though I was sore, tired, and hungry.

“Why aren’t you, Lieutenant?” The captain halted his own progress, and held out his hand for me to do the same.

“Because I love my Captain, Sir.” I did smile then, though in the dark, I knew he could not see my expression.

But, then with Guard Captain Andarian Kennet, you never knew, he could well have the Nightsight. It would certainly explain his uncanny ability to find his way in the dark, and the countless other bizarre things that were part of the Andarian Kennet repertoire. Finding lost items, lost people, resistance to most every poison in the verse, being utterly sweet and charming, and the aforementioned ability to see in the dark -- let's see, what did they call those? -- ah yes, all the earmarks of demon.

I snickered then, thinking on the new recruits I had overheard in the mess betting on whether he was a sort of devil creature. The odds, the last time I checked, were twelve-to-one; that is twelve-to-one in favor of him being demon-born. I doubt he would find this as funny as I did.

“Do you find this amusing, Lieutenant Castra?”

“No, sir.” I straightened, even under the strain of the weight I was carrying.

He did not reply, and I suddenly felt the need to explain my actions. The silence was strained. “Sir, this is just so-- so absurd.”

“Tell me about it.”

He trotted off again, and I dutifully followed trying my best to match his exact path. After a few strides I felt myself sinking into mush.

So, we had met the marsh at last. I adjusted my stride, so I did not descend so much as to loose my footing in the muck.

There was no talking now as I followed Andarian as he crisscrossed through the grassy marsh. Some of the tips of the tallest strands were bathed in the moonlight, infusing their normal mossy hue with a stark silver.

At the top of the first hill that rose out of the marsh was a small shell of an outpost, which was barely salient in the silent sky. The outpost, I knew, was to be our camp for all the time we could give to rest, before journeying onward. I doubt we would spend more than a few hours under its stone roof, what with having such a precious cargo.

My arms and calves ached and burned, and not a few times I had to halt and adjust my stance so I did not fall face first into the mud. Andarian seemed to have none of these problems, but then again, he had not been regulated to pack animal.

It did not take us as long as I feared to traverse the marsh, and soon I was sighing with relief, the last time I had made my way through the marsh at the edge of the Waste, I had lost my only good pair of boots. The ground was significantly more solid under my feet, as I strode up the minute hill.

Andarian was faster for he had nearly crested it, and again, I felt the twinge of envy. He stood at the feet of the stone structure, unmoving, and if I did not know better, I would have though he was one of those painted stone sculptures in the capital.

Both of us had to duck upon entering, for fear of whacking our heads on the top on the door frame, and my back smarted under the new stress. I thought I heard it crack when I straightened up again.

Once we were inside, I let the body fall from my arms to the ground. It landed with a soft thud.

Andarian clucked in annoyance. I ignored him. Stretching, I winced at my smarting muscles. Gods, I hurt. I raked a hand through my short hair, the color of tar; Gods, it felt good to be free of that weight.

And as much as it pained me to do so, I bent down to arrange the man so he was not all crooked. I heard Andarian behind me busying himself with his pack.

I turned towards him, he was pulling out fire sticks and a tinderbox.

“Do you think it’s safe, sir?” I spoke, adjusting my dirty guards uniform. Even the black trim was splattered with mud splotches, and the muck showed horribly on the shale grey of my coat. Habitually, I flicked at my collar and frowned. I liked this uniform, the tailor had the gift for flattering the form. It was the only flair I could get away with in this business.

From where he was preparing a fire, Andarian peered up at me. It was a rather disconcerting experience, while I was quite tall for a woman, Andarian towered above me- usually.

“I doubt they’d send patrols out this far, and I have a feeling,” he gestured noncommittally towards the our prize, “this one won’t be missed, at least for awhile.”

“But, when he is-” I mused.

“We will be safe in our warm beds in the city.” A soft, warming smile was splayed across Andarian’s face that was most rare.

I nodded. Commanders and Kings rarely sent anyone out across the Waste, on purpose, which then made me question why we had been sent.

I plopped down next to him, intent on watching the play of the fire. The flames licked at the air, flitting this way and that, a fanciful dance of heat.

“Did you ever wonder why you were picked for this mission?”

I was delighted that he chose to ask that nagging question, as I did not fancy asking him. “No, I just assumed, I was picked at random.”

“Not so. I personally asked for you.”

I simpered. “Mmmm, that’s nice.”

Andarian’s voice was a pleasure to listen to, he spoke in a sing-song sort of voice. I had heard him sing once, when I first arrived at the Barracks, I had mistaken him for a Minstrel, and had blushed bright red upon learning than Minstrels wore purple not grey. I wondered if Andarian remembered that - probably not.

He grunted as he poked the fire with a stick. “Good.”


A companionable silence spread out between us, as I tried to relax all the tense spots in my body. We would not stay here for long, just long enough to catch a second wind, before making the trek towards the capital. Bored with the fire, I turned to inspect the man, our capture.

He was an average sized man, every part of his body in proportion with the other. His hands and face were soft under the dirt and slime, and he wore a brown tunic and breaches. His hair was cut short, and his nose was hooked, and sharp like a hawk‘s beak. .

When I had been appointed to this mission, I had not asked for any details that I was not freely given. Now, I was curious. Who was this man, and what did they want with him?

I was about to ask Andarian, but thought better of it. Even as a Captain, he probably knew just about as much as I did. Plus, Andarian was not particularly receptive to questions.

The man in question was staring out at the dark landscape barely lit by a crescent moon. As usual the flickering stars of old were absent from the night’s sky.

It was at such silent times that I wondered about him. He was tight lipped about his personal life, and never spoke of his past. Most men were wary of the fact that they knew next to nothing of him, but I knew of a few ladies, and young ones, who found it romantically mysterious. I, myself, found it quite sad. But, there was not a chance in hell that I would tell him that.

The only connection to his past was the brand that had been burned into the skin on the right side of his neck. Usually Andarian wore his hair long to cover up the brand, but in preparation for this mission he had chopped his hair shorter than normal. The mark almost looked smudged, and blended with the fiery shade of his hair, but I could make out the shape of a wheel. A wheel with six spokes. It was not a symbol I knew.

As if he could feel my inquisitive stare on his neck, Andarian faced me, his dark eyes intent on mine. I twisted away.

“Do you know why our skies are starless, Carys?”

At the question, my body froze and my brain stopped. I was startled, and it was not just because he used my given name. He had turned back to the sky, and started to speak again, before I could answer.

“It is said that it was our curse for trying to steal life from the gods; and that only when man has been redeemed in the eyes of the Great One will the stars shine again.”

I nodded, I knew the saga of the Alchemist, of the warlock who tried to bring the dead back to the life. My father had recited it to me and my brothers every night when we were small. But, Andarian’s prophetic ending I had not heard of before..

“Really?” I was doubtful. I tended to disregard most otherworldly things. There had not been powerful magic in our part of the world for decades. Yes, there was still the Gifted, but nothing of what was the past.

He turned to me, then, and smiled that charming smile of his. The one that tended to make the ladies swoon and the men jealous. I was not immune to it either.

He gestured to the man. “They say he can bring back the stars.”

I blinked, my brain hooked by those words. Bring back the stars? What sort of joke is that? Our skies have been starless for centuries. No man, no human has that kind of power.

Warlock. It struck out of my brain and caught me. Even in my own brain it sounded queer. I, frantically, searched for some refutation, and the only thing I could think of was, but he looks so ordinary. I was not about to let a silly term, or a silly theory throw me.

“That’s impossible!” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I hated them.

Andarian was on his feet now, staring down at me, and I felt very small. “Improbable, but not impossible. Come now,” he offered his hand to help me up, “let’s go home.”

I clasped the proffered hand, my mind reeling with possibilities. Home, I doubted it was as simple as he made it sound.

where the back of my color chaffed

collar.

He perfectly at home in the dark, traipsing across

He was

He spoke but his words were so soft that I had to strain to hear them.

I think that this would work better as: He said aloud, but his words were so soft that I had to strain to hear them.

As it is, it isnt quite as effective or fluent.

My lips twitched with the urge to smile, even in my current predicaments of sore, tired, and hungry.

huh? Awkward and I think, grammatically incorrect. Predicament is definetly not the word to use in this case I think. Try, My lips twitched with the urge to smile, even though I was sore, tired, and hungry.

Or something, but I suggest removing 'predicaments'

But, then with Guard Captain Andarian Kennet, you never knew,

But then, with Guard Captain Andarin Kennet, you never know.

he had not be regulated to pack animal

had not been

while I was quite tall for a woman

That was such a shock. Up until that point, it seemed so male-orientated and when you realise the guard is female it raises a host of questions such as: why is she carrying a heavy burden when there is a strong man accompanying her? Seems incongruous, even if she is his subordinate. But regardless, I think that particualr point--the female thing-- should be integrated a lot earlier.

Apart from that I liked it, especially the hints about the world, I loved that you didnt tell us directly. Nicely done.

"Do you know why our skies our starless, Carys?"

Meant to be "Do you know why our skies are starless, Carys?"

I love how you kept feeding the reader of the very good descriptions of the setting and what the character was carrying. I slowly realized that the character is a girl (nicely done)

I can't really say much at this point, just gonna see what your next chapter is about.

Thank for both for taking a look at this. I've edited it again, but I am still playing around with the idea of what other clues I should insert to give the reader more of a feeling that she is infact a woman.

Squallz > I have no idea if there is going to be a next chapter, because this was written as a short stand alone. But, you have got me thinking, if I can make something more of it, I will.



Auf Wiedersien,
Cal.

Green = Comment/Correction
Blue = Suggestion
Black = Review

*

He [ ? ] perfectly at home in the dark, traipsing across the uneven ground like it was noon-day in the square.

Either ‘was’ or ‘looked’?

“Well, buck up, man. We can’t leave him here.” He spoke but his words were so soft that I had to strain to hear them.

I had thought the speaker was male and here when the captain says ‘man’ I thought he was talking to the narrator but the reader finds out, a little later, that she happens to be a woman. So, a little misleading here?

Finding lost items, lost people, resistance to most every poison in the verse, being utterly sweet and charming, and the aforementioned ability to see in the dark -- let's see, what did they call those? -- ah yes, all the earmarks of [ ? ] demon.

‘a’? As in ‘a demon’.

I adjusted my stride, so I did not descend so much as to loose my footing in the muck.

I think ‘loose’ is supposed to be ‘lose’.

At the top of the first hill that rose out of the marsh was a small shell of an outpost, which was barely salient in the silent sky.

The two words are very similarly spelt and I read them both as ‘silent’, I think you could use a synonym for ‘salient’ or ‘silent’ if you chose to. But it is really up to you.

I doubt[ed whether?] we would spend more than a few hours under its stone roof, what with having such a precious cargo.

^^^ See quote

Both of us had to duck upon entering, for fear of whacking our heads on the top on the door frame, and my back smarted under the new stress.

‘on’ = of

“I doubt they’d send patrols out this far, and I have a feeling,” he gestured noncommittally towards the our prize, “this one won’t be missed, at least for awhile.”

You seem to be unsure whether to use ‘the’ or ‘our’. I think you should go for ‘our’.

Bored with the fire, I turned to inspect the man, our capture.

Maybe it is just me but reading ‘our capture’ seemed as if the speaker and her captain had been captured and not the other way round. How about changing it to ‘captive’?

His hair was cut short, and his nose was hooked, and sharp like a hawk‘s beak. .

Typo: double periods.

“It is said that it was our curse for trying to steal life from the gods; and that only when man has been redeemed in the eyes of the Great One will the stars shine again.”

I think Andarian is speaking of all human(?) beings and so man should have a capital M.

My father had recited it to me and my brothers every night when we were small.

Ought to be ‘young/er’

But, Andarian’s prophetic ending I had not heard of before..

Use three ellipses in stead of two.

Yes, there was still the Gifted, but nothing of what was the past.

Did you mean ‘that’ and not ‘what’?

I blinked, my brain hooked by those words.

Ach, brain is not too great a word here, try ‘mind’.

*

For a short piece you got me hooked from the beginning to the end. I especially liked that the speaker was a female—though she was a little manly at first, until she said she was ‘quite tall for a woman’. Ways you can give clues to her gender, I think, are possibly by saying whether she was the only female officer or maybe if she was treated/taught differently from the men. And what does Andarian think of her strength (she is capable of carrying an average man and boy, that is strong )

Well, I’ve not got much else to say. If you do add more let me know, I’d love to know what happens next.

Though I still have to read the revised version of Guttersnipe.

-- Myth

but I am still playing around with the idea of what other clues I should insert to give the reader more of a feeling that she is infact a woman.

Get her doing something girly after setting down her burden...like, wiping her palms on her pants, grumbling over the state of her uniform or, shock horror, while she's carrying the man (who is dead I presume?), complain not just about her back, but of it pulling on her hair. That is dratted annoying.

Is just an idea mind...I quite like it. Although I would like to know why they're going across the marsh, a couple more details on what the Captain looks like....details that aren't cliche's please, they get a bit...irritating. Especially if you read romances alot and I do.

Otherwise, it was very well written, I commend you!

~Chibi