Mistress of the Bow: CH 1- The Fortune-Teller EDITED VERSION

Newly Edited Version! All edits are in italics!

Please comment and/or edit! I'd really appreciate it since I wrote this chapter in one night? Is it good enough to be continued or not you think? Comment as you wish!

Chapter One
The Fortune-Teller


“Ariane!” I glanced up. My older sister, Fiona, was standing in the threshold of our hut, dressed in the typical attire for a village dweller. Her long red-brown hair was pulled back with a dully dyed kerchief and she wore a brown smock and apron, feet robed in simple round-toed shoes.
“What is it?” I asked. Rarely would Fiona call me in during morning chores, let alone my mother. Our father was a traveling tradesman, selling our food from our fields and fabrics that Mother and Fiona had sewed and stitched.
“There is a visitor in town and she is a Fortune-Teller!” Fiona cried, her face flushed with excitement. “I wonder what she will tell me...” Fiona trailed off, but turned around energetically and skipped away into the house.
Fortune-Tellers in Our Land of Tara were extremely rare, but very exact in their fortunes. When a Fortune-Teller came to a village, they were said to bring good luck to the crops of villagers, and the few who could please the teller with offerings had their future told. I, nor Fiona, had ever had our fortune told. It was an exciting moment.
When Fiona and I were ready, and Mother behind us with our best food and fabric offerings, we three headed off to Central Block, the very center of the village. Fiona had fixed her outfit, dressing in her party shoes and red dress and I in my blue party outfit. We let our hair loose—a rare occurrence—and pinned sparkling clips in our hair.
Every village, town and city had a Central Block, but each one looked different depending on the main production of the town. Our small village of Hapwind built its economy off of crops and fabrics, like many other small village surrounding the big city of Treesh. Our Central Block was a fair size and was able to hold our whole population at town assemblies. The ground was grassy and lush with cobblestones lining the edges and the followed by a row of potato and tomato plants. In the very center was a wood—though decently majestic—fountain, spouting clear water from the nearby spring. It was shaped as a wheat bundle.
When we arrived at Central Block, a small caravan painted in bright colours was parked to the left of the wooden fountain. It had a blue and white striped overhang that was pulled out and someone had laid a red and gold velvet carpet down the grass. On the carpet were two hand-woven chairs, and one, darkly decorated with foreign fabrics, held a tall bejewelled lady. The Fortune-Teller.
“Our Lady of Tara!” gasped Fiona, her hand going to mouth. Her eyes were wide with amazement as she observed the fortune lady. We walked forward, oblivious of the long line-up before the Fortune-Teller.

“Back o’ the line!” snapped a gruff man named Hakgrin.
With our eyes still bright with astonishment, we trudged to the back of the long line-up. It seemed discouragingly endless. Our hearts were shining with curiosity and yearning, but equally impatient.
As soon as Hakgrin departed the Fortune-Teller, Mother, Fiona and I rushed forward brandishing our meagre gifts. The mystical lady eyed them with scrutiny. We knew they weren’t the best of gifts, but Mother always said the best gifts came from the heart. As ours did.
“A family of farmers? How interesting to think your gifts could outdo those of the wealthier folk of this town...” The Fortune-Teller said. Her eyes reminded me of a gloomy tempest, grey, frightening and mysterious. I turned my gaze away to avoid her tempest eyes.
“It is our best crop so far and these fabrics are the best from Hapwind all the way to Treesh!” Fiona eagerly waved a carrot and a pink fabric close the lady’s face. An aggressive expression was on my sister’s face, a mixture of scare and zeal. Fiona hankered for the Teller’s fortune and yet she was deathly scared of this mysterious witch-like character.
“I see, and what is your name, young mistress?” The Teller asked, openly interested.
“My name is Fiona and this is my sister Ari—” Fiona was cut off by the Fortune-Teller.
“I only asked for your name, Mistress Fiona,” The Teller’s face was set grimly and her tone harsh. “Come and I will make your fortune.” The Fortune lady took hold of Fiona’s arm and led her into the painted caravan. Mother and I stayed outside, nervous for our kinswoman.
A few minutes later Fiona came out of the caravan followed by the Fortune-Teller. Fiona was pale white, and her eyes were wide. She stumbled into my arms and then fainted.
“What have you done to my daughter, Fortune-Teller?” cried my mother, taking on a defensive tone.
“I have done nothing but reveal her fortune. Fortune is not always pleasant, and this was one of those cases. But you may not ask what I revealed to dear Fiona,” The lady festooned in shawls and jewels replied coolly to my mother. “Your daughter may only reveal to you what I revealed to her on her own accord.” And with a sweep of her numerous shawls, the Teller whisked back into the caravan and slammed closed the door, leaving Fiona in my arms and my angry mother alone in Central Block.
*
My mother was not happy with the Fortune-Teller’s attitude and Fiona’s deteriorating health. From the moment my sister had exited the Teller’s caravan, she had been pale and sickly. None of the best herbs could help Fiona, nor could visiting Healers. And within five days of the Fortune lady’s arrival, Fiona, my sister and mother’s daughter, lay on her death bed.
“Sister, sister,” Fiona moaned as I took a step forward into the lamplight of her smelly room. “My dear Ariane.” She raised one bony hand and brushed it against my cheek as I took it into two of my own. My hands enveloped her one as a spider web would a fly.
“Oh, Fiona, this should never have happened. We should never have gone to the Teller!” I cried, weeping lightly so as not to distress Fiona. I was so upset and I wanted to wrangle th neck of the Teller lady. “This is the Fortune-Teller’s doom upon you! She must have set a curse!” I cried more, but Fiona shook her head slowly back and forth.
“No, dear Ariane, you do not understand. This was my fortune, my future. This is what that Teller lady predicted.”
“No, that is not true! She cursed this sickness upon you, Fiona!” I cried, sticking to what every other villager believed. But no sooner had I said so, I started to doubt my statement. Was it really the Teller’s fault, who was renowned as a mysterious and cold being but still had compassion for others? Would she really have done something so cruel? No, I answered to myself. No, the Fortune-Teller would not have done something so cruel. So, I whispered a short apology to Fiona and kissed her cheek, not realising that quietly she had already closed her eyes forever peacefully. I sat beside my sister's body and sobbed noisily for all to hear my pain.
*
Mother was distressed over Fiona’s death and the rest of the village was. There were rumours of the Teller being a sorceress and murderess, but I knew really she would never kill anyone. I said nothing and let the villagers gossip as they liked.
Fiona was put in a carved wooden coffin made by the woodworkers and then burned in a bonfire. It was the ritual for the death of a person not yet reached their twentieth birthday. Then, my mother and I went home and made a fire and went to sleep. Father was returning home as soon as he could, but it was not fast enough for Mother. She cried herself to sleep and I could hear her in the middle of the night yelling out Fiona’s name.
In the heart of night, I snuck out of my straw pallet and slipped on some day clothes. The chill air tingled at my skin as I passed quietly and unseen to the Central Block. I needed to visit the Fortune-Teller before she departed the next day. Nobody wanted her in Hapwind anymore for they believed she had cursed Fiona.
I knocked quietly on the brightly painted caravan. It seemed still bright and almost luminous in the night with the midnight moon throwing its light upon it.
The Teller lady opened the door. She was dressed in dull nightclothes, but her tempest eyes still frightened me, even in such plain attire.
“Lady, I would like my fortune.” And without further questioning, the Teller let me secretly in and led me to a decorated table in a corner of her caravan.
On the table was a beautiful shining glass ball. It lay in a large shell full of murky water. As the Fortune-Teller sat and touched the ball gently, the shell tipped and water poured over the table of linens, spoiling some very nice embroidery.
“I see...a future of adventure and...A man and lady who become...I don’t know...This is difficult to see...Ah, now, a prophecy! Oh, my lady, a terrible future...No, wonderful...” The lady continued trailing off and repeated many of her sentences, and sometimes contradicting earlier phrases. It was confusing, but then, as I was on the verge of falling asleep before the Fortune-Teller, the eccentric lady gave a wild yelp, jolting me out of near dreams.
“No! Prophecy!” the Teller lady repeated. “I see...a quiver...a bow, my lady.” And then everything went dark.

I like the basic plot so far, but i'm definitely noticing some awkward diction. For a farmer, the narrative is really formal. While I was reading, the sudden paragraphs of description really threw me off. Here for example.

“Ariane!” I glanced up. My older sister, Fiona, was standing in the threshold of our hut, dressed in the typical attire for a village dweller. Her long red-brown hair was pulled back with a dully dyed kerchief and she wore a brown smock and a stained apron. Her delicate feet were dressed in simple brown round-toed shoes.

To make this go more smoothly, you can take out all of the short sentences and add in transition words. Maybe even link a few together with a semi colon. In fact, this isn't nearly enough description. I would really like to hear more about the narrator because she really does not come off as a girl. And we aren't given any indicator that she is until much later. She may have a female name, but it really doesn't say much. We don't hear anything about what SHE looks like.

In fact, there isn't much emotion on the narrator's part in this at all. Was she sad? Was she excited? All we hear about is her sister's excitement or how nervous her mother is.In fact, I ended up getting very confused on just who is dying and who is getting addressed during a few of these paragraphs.

I'm sorry if this came off as harsh, but the story really does have potential and I would like to see it realized.

Not bad for a start, but as mentioned above, there is little emotion. The MC talks about her sister's death very matter-of-factly. I would suggest adding more about MC's feelings and emotions as she's going through this. The plot is catching, though, and well written. I didn't catch any punctuation, grammar, or spelling mistakes, which is always a bonus.

Mother and I stayed outside, nervous for our kinswoman.

Just curious- is kinswoman a word?
Other than that, it seems like a good start to what sounds like an interesting story.

Hi so far to everyone who has commented,

Thanks for the tips about emotions and I'm pleased that you like the story so far.

I'll rewrite parts and add in more emotion and I'm also glad that no grammatical errors are yet found!

And yes, kinswoman is a word, but rarely used. It means a female relative.

Thanks and look forward to the newly edited version of this chapter coming out soon!

Thanks!

Edits are now done!

[/quote] “Our Lady of Tara!” gasped Fiona, her hand going to mouth. Her eyes were wide with amazement as she observed the fortune lady. We walked forward, oblivious of the long line-up before the Fortune-Teller.
I'm confused. Did I miss something here? Who is this Tara person? Why does she have a title? I think you should explain a bit more.

“I see...a future of adventure and...A man and lady who become...I don’t know...This is difficult to see...Ah, now, a prophecy! Oh, my lady, a terrible future...No, wonderful...” The lady continued trailing off and repeated many of her sentences, and sometimes contradicting earlier phrases. It was confusing, but then, as I was on the verge of falling asleep before the Fortune-Teller, the eccentric lady gave a wild yelp, jolting me out of near dreams.
“No! Prophecy!” the Teller lady repeated. “I see...a quiver...a bow, my lady.” And then everything went dark.[/quote]
Again I'm confused. the fortune teller has to stop contradicting herself! It can aggravate the reader. Also the last line is confusing. Did the room go dark or did she faint? You should make some parts a bit more clear. Good job. I didnt really like the subject and the gruesomeness but it has some good spots.