The prologue is finally up! w00t!
As you might know, I struggle with characterization, so any tips on how to improve on that would be much appreciated!
Curdled moonlight writhed on the blade as she held it on high. Dusky pines formed a ragged circle around her, like teeth tearing into the star-strewn blanket of the sky.
The air was hot and heavy with sin. The forest was still, waiting for a sound to break the silence - and she brought the knife down.
The night was washed in scarlet.
Souls wrenched apart with the grating shriek of metal on metal. A cruel mouth gaped, the muscles frozen, pulled taut in a silent scream.
Darkness rushed into the world, borne on wings of malice and strife.
*****
Thud. The arrow flew straight and true, feathers flashing in the mid-morning sunlight before it burrowed deep into the practice target.
Guinevere allowed herself a rare smile, tucking a stray auburn curl behind her ear. Her first bull's-eye of the day. She came here every morning to practice, as soon as the sun rose -- but usually, it took her at least three or four tries before a perfect shot.
She reached into her quiver and knocked a fresh arrow. Her eyes were fixed on the second training target on the other side of the clearing. The muscles in her arms relaxed. Just as she had been taught, she drew energy from her spine; she pulled back slowly, careful not to tense up her forearms, until the bowstring was tight and quivering, then --
"Guin!"
Startled, she released the arrow. It shot towards the dust, embedding itself in a tussock of dry grass. Alarm coursed through her and she spun around with a muffled curse.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to --"
Guinevere relaxed as she saw who it was: Lyla, her foster sister. A glance at the younger girl's scraped, callused hands and and the pieces of hay in her hair told her that she had recently been working at the stables. "It's fine, don't worry about it," she said wearily, her alarm fading.
Lyla rushed on excitedly, "Guess what?" Her red-blond hair had escaped from its braids in wisps; she pushed them out of her eyes and continued before Guinevere could say 'what?', "Today, I went early to the stables to care for an injured horse, and --" she broke off, out of breath.
Guinevere saw the mud spattered on the bottom of her pants, the tiny scrapes on her calves, and realized that she must have run all the way through the forest.
"And?"
Lyla took a deep breath before continuing. She was clenching and un-clenching her hands in the fabric of her pockets, the way she always did when she was nervous or excited. "There was a wolf outside the stables! I thought that it might be there to prey on the horses, I was nervous about that, but... but it had an envelope in its teeth! An envelope addressed to you, Guin."
She produced a large, crisp white envelope from a pocket in her homespun tunic, and handed it to her foster-sister. Guinevere took it with trembling fingers. She could see the faint, slightly damp indents where the wolf's teeth had been. And there was no mistaking the red wax seal: a lioness's head and an ornate letter I; the emblem of Isaria, the Kingdom mage.
"Thank-you," Guinevere said quietly. Lyla stared back at her through solemn hazel eyes ringed by dark, curling lashes. She's going to be beautiful when she is older, Guinevere thought to herself.
"Should I go now?" the stable girl asked.
"That would be good." Guinevere had no time for diplomacy. Whatever the envelope contained, it must be important. But what would Isaria want with her?
*****
Finally, she was alone. Her duties as an apprentice had consumed all her time during the day -- but now, as moonlight filtered through the trees, she knew that she would not be disturbed.
But she glanced furtively around nonetheless, dreading the snap of a twig underfoot, the gleam of eyes through the foliage.
When she was certain that no one was listening, she began to read:
Guinevere,
As I am sure you are aware, a visit to the kingdom "Earth" is essential to complete your apprenticeship. You have not yet made such a trip, but now that you are nearing the last few moons of your training, it is absolutely necessary that you leave as soon as possible.
I am also sure that you are aware of this: my daughter, Ayra, is living there under the protection of a masking charm. You are to attend the school that she is enrolled in -- but you are not to reveal anything of the kingdom of rain under any circumstances; her masking charm has not yet worn off. When it does, I will introduce her to the separate worlds. Until then, be warned that the mask will begin to deteriorate if the Syloren is mentioned or performed.
There are some things about Earth that you should know, I will send them to you in a separate envelope. But for now, pack what you need. I will meet you by the portal at dawn tomorrow.
Regards,
Isaria
(To be continued...)
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