Young Writers Society

This is a continuation of where the story left off. I was very upset after finishing this trilogy (By Robin Hobb) and I had so wanted it to end differently - so I made up my own ending though it rather isn't really an ending. If you were upset with the ending and the way The Fool and Fitz parted hopefully this will make you feel better.

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I was content with my life. Life took its due course as everyone, even me, wanted it to be. Disruptions came and went through my peaceful slice of the world, some more terrible than others. One such terror is that of when I watched Molly grow old. Though to me she was forever the Molly I had known, had loved and adored. I was by her side, holding her hand everyday as the sickness which stole her from me slowly claimed her beautiful soul.
I watched her sons grow up and was as proud as Burrich would’ve been if he had been alive. Nettle grew into a fine strong minded young woman, of which I blame Molly for, who had captured the heart of young and handsome Sir Riddle. They were happy together and I was delighted that that had found each other so early in life. Dutiful became the Farseer King everyone had waited, hoped, craved for and more. He single handily stopped the Piebalds from trying to call up more from the Old Blood and instead integrated them into society so well it became myth that the Witted were once horrors stalking the night.
As he was Witted himself, Dutiful showed it to the rest of the land of which he ruled. Some did not believe it at first, but when the time came when Dutiful finally took another bond-mate, amazingly he had not learned his lesson and had bonded with another cat, though it was then that his people believed him. He and his wife had many children, one which they so faithfully named FitzChilvary. I had considered it an honour and, yet a mockery. FitzChilvary Farseer was not dead and neither was he still alive. I was now just Fitz. Forever now Fitz.
I realised that something was not right with me after Molly’s death and that I, however much impossible it was, was not aging. Grief struck me like an open-handed slap; I would have to watch more deaths. Happiness ran from me like a young woman from a stranger in a dark alley. Even through this I was able to think logically. All my conclusions came to my last passage through the stones. I had been stuck in them and had relinquished my body and almost my soul to them.
Only a voice had managed to guide me out. I have not given any thought as to whom the voice belonged to, but I followed it. I can only assume that the portal stone had taken part of me and given something back not entirely human.
And that was what has led me to this horrible fate. A fate worse than death. I have watched all those I cared about grow old, and die. Lady Patience died of a heart-attack of which I was sadly too late to remedy her of. Lacey was mind-sick and it twisted my heart to visit her each day, even though I did. Fate it seemed had once again chosen a different course for the Changer. The Black Man had told me to accept who I was and let go. I had and it had brought me even more heart break and misery. The Black Man had also warned me about the portal stones.
I hadn’t listened to that advice. Thoughts of the Black Man inevitably led me to the Fool. My heart ached with concern for him. I clutched at the figure he had last carved for me. I didn’t doubt that he had also carved it for himself as well, stowing memories of all three of us into the stone. I had treasured this with all my life. Nighteyes, my forever bond-mate, I would never bond to another again as I had so completely with Nighteyes.
Myself when I was younger, wide eyed and still full of youth and optimism. I wondered if that was the way the Fool had always seen me. Had time ever changed his perception of me? And the Fool as I had first met him. I put colour into it, but it needed little prodding to remember some of the memories which I had thrown so thoughtlessly away once. The memories the Fool had brought back for me. So much had transpired between the Fool and I, I had hardly knew what to do when he had broken the only link I had had with him. When the link had snapped I knew that this was his way of parting. I had foolishly denied him a goodbye with dignity, and instead had let him plead for his own choice to let me be happy. In his visions of the future where he was dead, he saw me, happy, living with Molly and her boys on the farm, growing old together. And so he had given his life in order for this to be true, trusting that I would know what to choose when the time was right. And I had.
But My Fool had died from horrible torture. Events after that seem to flow together, but I know I had brought him back to life weaving both the Wit and Skill together in an incomprehensible way. And for a short time we had been in each others’ bodies. For a short time we knew each other so intimately it was beyond a lover’s coupling, beyond a Witted’s bond-mate. Beyond anything except saying that our togetherness was so jointed that we were one. One complete being. I hadn’t felt anything like that since the last time I had seen him. And so I held close to my heart the one thing I had left of him, the carving and the little memories he had wanted me to remember, with an odd little phrase which always rebounded around me as if echoing his life into mine.
“I was never wise.” How true that statement was, for the both of us. I was reminded dimly of Starlings hand-reading once, when I had still been a hermit living in the forest with Hap and Nighteyes. She has said that both my hand had two different fates, in one I had a fleeting life, with a woman I loved and it ended shortly. On the other I led a long life with someone who I loved, who was always with me, but never actually there.
Starling had never been so correct in her life. Well, in the life that I knew her in at least. I stayed the same age as I watched everything whither around me. I nearly cried myself to sleep when Chade finally went over the top with his Skill use. Thick was too late to call him back from the current and it had swept him away. Nettle and I couldn’t reach him. He was now buried in the Royal cemetery. Dutiful had given him a royal burial, one fit for a king or prince. And in truth in Chade’s whole life as the Sacrifice that he was, he deserved every single nugget of gold carved into his remembrance.
It was odd, how you only realise how much you depend upon someone until they are gone. He was an important part of the King’s Coterie and to me; he was as much as a father as Burrich had been. He had also defended the rumours about me. About my never aging. I hardly knew more than Chade or the others, but I suspect that they thought I did and held back. Chade had never completely forgiven me for my betrayal of him to the Fool.
People were getting suspicious that I was still alive and I’m afraid Dutiful could no longer do anything to stop them. And so I fled, once again. Except this time, I was doing so out of my own choice and not one of the Catalyst for the White Prophet. This time as I held the three-headed carving to my chest, I knew exactly what it was that I would be happy with. An image of the Fool differently coloured switched into my mind and I asked myself if I knew what he would look like. The answer came unbidden. I would know. I would always know my Beloved.
And so I fled, anywhere and everywhere. Answers eluded me endlessly, but the quest for my Fool would never come to a conclusion. I kept the wood carving close to my heart, ever searching. For now that we were both not humans time could not come between us and I would finally get the thing I knew, somehow, I wanted all along, ever since the beginning.
My Beloved.

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Ahh, I thought it was nice. Hope to get some good criticism! (Australian, by the way. So some things may be spelt differently. )

Happiness ran from me like a young woman from a stranger in a dark alley.

Woah, interesting simile, but I'm not sure I like it. In the paragraph, you talk about happiness leaving and how the character is mournful of its absence. But the simile suggests something altogether different; that is, happiness panicked and ran in an abrupt departure. I don't think the simile works well given the context.

You also have some sentences that seem like fragments. For example:

Myself when I was younger, wide eyed and still full of youth and optimism.

There's no ending to the sentence. What about when the character was younger? However, it can simple be fixed by tying it into the sentence that follows it.

In all, I found it somewhat confusing. However, I bet someone who has read the trilogy would understand it a lot better. Even so, though, I thought it was well-written and I like your descriptions. It's very well put together.

Thank you very much for reviewing my story. I have been waiting for someone to for what seems like ages! I realise what you mean. When I wrote that simile, I suppose I was in a rather strange mood - which I realise doesn't fit well with the rest of the story.

Perhaps I will change it to,

Happiness disappeared from my life, like the water in a dam during a drought, slowly, but surely.

Sounds a little better . . .

Anyway, AHA! That's what made that part look so strange - The sentence is describing one of the carvings on the ornament. I shall have to add that in somewhere.

And, in this, I tried to tie up all the loose ends that were left in the book, so someone who has read the trilogy would probably understand it more. It would be VERY confusing to someone who didn't know the characters.

Thank you again for the review!

Have A Nice Day.
Azrael

OK, Light_Devil! here I go.

I was content with my life. Life took its due course as everyone, even me, wanted it to be. Disruptions came and went through my peaceful slice of the world, some more terrible than others. One such terror is that of when I watched Molly grow old. Though, to me, she was forever the Molly I had known, had loved and adored. I could be wrong for putting those commas there, but my instincts tell me that they can live there. I was by her side, holding her hand everyday as the sickness which stole her from me, slowly claimed her beautiful soul.

Not sure where I'm getting the weird thoughts of putting a comma there, but, you did make a long list of details, so I still think it needs commas.

I watched her sons grow up and was as proud as Burrich would’ve been if he had been alive. Nettle grew into a fine strong minded young woman, of which I blame Molly for, who had captured the heart of the young and handsome Sir Riddle. You forgot to add a "the" They were happy together and I was delighted that that they had found each other so early in life. Dutiful became the Farseer King everyone had waited, hoped, craved for and more. That ending sequence of words is a bit redundant. How about simply having, "and craved for." He single handily stopped the Piebalds from trying to call up more from the Old Blood, and instead integrated them into society so well it became myth that the Witted were once horrors stalking the night.

Wow, that last sentence is pretty chunky, no? Perhaps you should break it down into several small ones.

As he was Witted himself, Dutiful showed it to the rest of the land of which he ruled. Some did not believe it at first, but when the time came when Dutiful finally took another bond-mate, amazingly he had not learned his lesson and had bonded with another cat, though it was then that his people believed him. He and his wife had many children, one which they so faithfully named FitzChilvary. I had considered it an honour and, yet a mockery. FitzChilvary Farseer was not dead and neither was he still alive. I was now just Fitz. Forever now Fitz.

That last sentence could be combined into something like: "I was forever now just Fitz." Or some other sentence that is worded better than that.

I realised that something was not right with me after Molly’s death and that I, however much impossible it was, was not aging. Grief struck me like an open-handed slap; I would have to watch more deaths. Happiness ran from me like a young woman from a stranger in a dark alley. Even through this I was able to think logically. I had to read that more than once. Sorry, but that shouldn't happen. All my conclusions came to my last passage through the stones. I had been stuck in them and had relinquished my body and almost my soul to them.

One too many "and" take out the first one, and use commas to separate the list of shifting thoughts.

Only a voice had managed to guide me out. I have not given any thought as to whom the voice belonged to, but I followed it. I can only assume that the portal stone had taken a part of me, and given something back not entirely human.

I think adding an "a" would make it sound a tad bit better.

And that was what has led me to this horrible fate. A fate worse than death. I have watched all those I cared about grow old, and die. Lady Patience died of a heart-attack, of which I was sadly too late to remedy her of. Lacey was mind-sick and it twisted my heart to visit her each day, even though I did. You already conveyed that with the sentence before the comma. This is just adding unnecessary detail. I do that a lot. Fate, it seemed, had once again chosen a different course for the Changer. That's a thing from the trilogy you are basing your fanfiction over, right? Otherwise, it should be lower-cased. The Black Man had told me to accept who I was and let go. I had, and it had brought me even more heart break and misery. The Black Man had also warned me about the portal stones.

Myself when I was younger, wide eyed and still full of youth and optimism. I wondered if that was the way the Fool had always seen me. Had time ever changed his perception of me? And the Fool as I had first met him. Is that supposed to be a question? If it is, you forgot the question mark, and if it's not, I didn't understand it. I put colour into it, but it needed little prodding to remember some of the memories which I had thrown so thoughtlessly away once. The memories the Fool had brought back for me. So much had transpired between the Fool and I, I had hardly knew what to do when he had broken the only link I had had with him. You can change that I in blue into a "me" otherwise there are too many I's in that sentence. When the link had snapped I knew that this was his way of parting. I had foolishly denied him a goodbye with dignity, and instead had let him plead for his own choice to let me be happy. In his visions of the future where he was dead, he saw me, happy, living with Molly and her boys on the farm, growing old together. And so he had given his life in order for this to be true, trusting that I would know what to choose when the time was right. And I had.

But, My Fool had died from horrible torture. I think there should be a little dramatic pause after the "but" thus the comma. Events after that seem to flow together, but I know I had brought him back to life weaving both the Wit and Skill together in an incomprehensible way. And for a short time we had been in each others’ bodies. For a short time we knew each other so intimately it was beyond a lover’s coupling, beyond a Witted’s bond-mate. Beyond anything except saying that our togetherness was so jointed that we were one. One complete being. I hadn’t felt anything like that since the last time I had seen him. And so I held close to my heart the one thing I had left of him, the carving and the little memories he had wanted me to remember, with an odd little phrase which always rebounded around me, as if echoing his life into mine.

That is a very long paragraph, I strongly recommend you trim it down. *Pulls out a pair of hedge trimmers* Wait! That's a jack-and-the box!

“I was never wise.” How true that statement was, for the both of us. I was reminded dimly of Starlings hand-reading once, when I had still been a hermit living in the forest with Hap and Nighteyes. She has said that both my hand had two different fates, in one I had a fleeting life, with a woman I loved and it ended shortly. Read it out loud. On the other, I led a long life with someone who I loved, who was always with me, but never actually there.

Starling had never been so correct in her life. Well, in the life that I knew her in at least. I stayed the same age as I watched everything whither around me. I nearly cried myself to sleep when Chade finally went over the top with his Skill use. Thick was too late to call him back from the current and it had swept him away. Nettle and I couldn’t reach him. He was now buried in the Royal cemetery. Dutiful had given him a royal burial, one fit for a king or prince. And in truth in Chade’s whole life as the Sacrifice that he was, Tricky wording. he deserved every single nugget of gold carved into his remembrance.

It was odd, how you only realise how much you depend upon someone until they are gone. He was an important part of the King’s Coterie, and to me; he was as much as a father as Burrich had been. He had also defended the rumours about me. About my never aging. I hardly knew more than Chade or the others, but I suspect that they thought I did and held back. Chade had never completely forgiven me for my betrayal of him to the Fool.

People were getting suspicious that I was still alive and I’m afraid Dutiful could no longer do anything to stop them. And so I fled, once again. Except this time, I was doing so out of my own choice and not one of the Catalyst for the White Prophet. This time as I held the three-headed carving to my chest, I knew exactly what it was that I would be happy with. An image of the Fool differently coloured switched into my mind, and I asked myself if I knew what he would look like. The answer came unbidden. I would know. I would always know my Beloved.

And so I fled, anywhere and everywhere. Answers eluded me endlessly, but the quest for my Fool would never come to a conclusion. I kept the wood carving close to my heart, ever searching. For now that we were both not humans time could not come between us, and I would finally get the thing I knew, somehow, I wanted all along, ever since the beginning.

My Beloved.

Words of goodbye:

As always Light_Devil!, you have a good piece with character. I have never read the trilogy you are writing about, and nor have I read any works by the author of it. My school doesn't carry any of her books. I checked on a number of occasions. There is only a small diversity of books to choose from.

As you can see, there were a few minor grammar errors. Although, some of those that I pointed out may be errors that I only thought were there. At least one or two of my suggestions may be completely wrong.

Always a pleasure.

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