My shout of terror and anguish ripped me from sleep. The image of the demonic Sal’cun was still fresh in my mind.
Panting, I struggled into a sitting position. Rage infused my mind. Hate for the Sal’cun tore through me, and I envisioned, with cold, deliberate slowness, thrusting the biting steel of my sword into its disfigured body. I would make it suffer as it my family had...
Leaving my tent, I began to make my way to the pit in which the Sal’cun was held. In exterior, I was unruffled; the only sign of my turmoil was in my sword-grey eyes. I would not let others see any emotion. I had fought hard for my position. Men still believed that women could not be fighters, let alone hold any position of authority. I’d show them too. The sword at my waist brushed against my skin, and a ripple of anticipation ran through me.
I pushed past Narir as he spoke, trying not to listen to his fanciful words. “Ilora, you must keep forgiveness. Forgive the Sal’cun. There are reasons...you can do things no one else can. Ilora, wait...”
“No!” I growled out. It was all I could say, and the Sal’cun’s eyes still bored into mine. I began to feel disconnected, and a clutch of fear gripped me. And then...I was somehow in the pit. With a cry of shock I reached for my sword, wheeling to face the Sal’cun...But it wasn’t there.
Outside my tent, the sun glowed on the horizon, signalling the start of another day. I grinned with savage bloodlust as I stepped off the grey mat I’d slept on. This day brought the trial of the Sal’cun. My lips parted in a fierce war cry. I would give the creature no mercy.
The rabble cheered and shouted as the body of Ilora raised the great sword. The Sal’cun felt the swords’ weight, and then stepped forward to meet the now-screaming body in the pit. It felt glee at its task, and only glee.
Vampyre wrote:A leering, decaying mouth, blood leaking from numerous wounds on the grey mass of flesh that could once have been a face...”No!”The reverberations of my own anguished yell woke me, but did nothing to dispel the images of the demonic Sal’cun. Panting, I struggled into a sitting position, glaring at my shaking hands as if my rage could quell their trembling. Hate for the Sal’cun tore through me, and I envisioned, with cold, deliberate slowness, thrusting the biting steel of my sword Because you described the action before you wrote it, with cold deliberate slowness seems like you're describing her envisioning the scene. It doesn't seem like you're describing her stabbing the Sal'cun. Maybe you should switch this part of the sentence around like this: Hate for the Sal'cun tore through me, and I envisioned thrusting the biting steel of my sword, with cold deliberate slowness, into its disfigured body. into its disfigured body. I would make it suffer as it my family had...At that, my hate fled as my family forced their images into my mind This sentence sounds a bit off. You're trying to cram to much description in too little a space. Try: At the thought of them, my hatred fled. In response, This part isn't really necessary the tear-tracks channelled down my face burned, awaiting a fresh torrent, anticipating the opening of the floodgates in my eyes Again, trying to cram too much description in to the point that the sentence makes no sense. These might fit better and are a lot simpler: My face burned and I could feel my eyes readying for an outbreak of tears OR Instead of the hate, sadness over-whelmed me.The girl screams out dry sobs no one can hear this sounds odd. There's no need for scream and sob to be in the same sentence, because they're two different things. Either she's screaming or sobbing. Actually, perhaps you should just make that sobbing, because you when you scream people will definitely hear you as her mother collapses. The glazed, bloody eyes whose eyes? Her mother's? Be specific lie close enough for her to watch a trickle of blood running down the side of the ruined mouth, staining the already-cooling lips red Her mother has collapsed. That would indicate she's lying down. So the trickle of blood wouldn't run down the side of her mouth. Not unless it was her mouth that was bleeding, but then it would be running down her cheek. Her father yells dying or not, surely he heard her scream/ sob? So that contrasts the first sentence of this paragraph , pressing his hand over the blood gushing from his stomach. Stumbling towards the girl on the ground, he trips falls to his knees in front of her. Stretching out a shaking hand, teeth bared from the effort it takes, he reaches for the terrified face before him. The effort proves too much, and the sobs burst into uncontrollable hysterics as Ilora watches her father's hand drop limply as he dies, still kneeling before her. The sentence is meant to be dramatic, however its length takes away from this somewhat. It might be better in two sentences as: The effort prves too much, and the sobs burst into uncontrollable hysterics as Ilora watches her father's hand drop. He dies, still kneeling before her.I gritted my teeth against the tears that gathered in my eyes. I would not give the Sal’cun that much much implies that she plans to give him some sort of satisfaction, and I'm not sure that's what you mean. So maybe you should be rid of this part satisfaction.Outside my tent, the sun glowed on the horizon, signalling the start of another day. I grinned with savage bloodlust savage bloodlust is a tad over-descriptive. Perhaps just ordinary bloodlust would do as I stepped off the grey mat I’d slept on. This day brought the trial of the Sal’cun. My lips parted in a fierce war cry. I would give the creature no mercy. I pushed through the opening flaps of my tent, staring into the rising sun; meeting its burning rays as a challenge. On the exterior, I was unruffled; the only sign of my turmoil was in my sword-grey Sword-grey? Not all swords are grey. And anyway, it's still an odd way to describe the colour grey. Maybe steel-grey? eyes. I'd fought too long against the restraints of my sex to hold this position of authority; no one would see me break.The sword at my waist brushed against my skin Having a sword gives me the impression that she is wearing some sort of armour. Even if not, it's a bit dangerous for her sword to be brushing against her skin. You'd think she'd be wearing some sort of leggings or have the sword in a sheath or something , and a ripple of anticipation ran through me. Men streamed towards the pit; I was the only woman in camp. Some of them still viewed me with slight contempt. I’d deal with them soon. I snarled at a young man who jostled me in his hurry to reach the pit. He shrank back, bowing his head in deference. Turning scornfully this description isn't necessary. Her action and his reaction clearly show who holds the power/ authority, so scornfully isn't very necessary away, I groaned inwardly as I spotted Narir making his way towards me. The old man was the only one who insisted I kept mercy and forgiveness. He made a great deal of that, as if there was a purpose I could fulfil by being merciful.I pushed past Narir as he stopped and spoke to me, trying not to listen to his fanciful Not sure that fanciful is the best choice of words here. Foolish, maybe? words. “Ilora, please wait...Let me help you to forgive...Ilora...”I spared him no glance But she already looked at him, anyway as I arrived at the pit. I peered eagerly into it. The Sal’cun was crouched in the corner, attempting to shade its eyes with a filthy, clawed hand. I laughed cruelly as a man kicked at a bunch of leaves partially shading the pit, sending more sunlight flooding into the creature’s bestial pupils. The Sal’cun screamed with pain. More men arrived, cramming and pushing around the pit. Only I had a clear space, next to the man conducting the trial. As the trial began, my gaze drifted to the Sal’cun below. It appeared to be listening to the charges being read against it. “...murder, arson, theft...” I shook my head. The Sal’cun didn’t seem worried at all about what it was facing. One of those charges alone would be punishable by death. My sword hand itched. I would deliver the killing blow. Glancing upwards, I caught sight of Narir. He was watching me. Irritably, I jerked my head away with a glare Maybe you should say she was glaring before she jerks her head away. Because what you've currently written is sort-of confusing , returning my gaze to the pit.Suddenly, the Sal’cun’s head snapped up, locking his eyes on mine. I couldn’t breathe; I was trapped. Blearily Bleary and all its forms refer to sight. But you're referring to hearing, so this isn't the right word. Try distantly or dimly I heard the formal words of the trial, the question required by tradition; we all knew what my answer would be. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. The moment I could take my revenge on the Sal’cun. The words rang in my ears, amid the bloodthirsty catcalls and jeers from the rest of the encampment.“And do you, our Commander Ilora, choose to give this Sal’cun forgiveness and let him go free?”“No!” I spat. It was all I could say, and the Sal’cun’s eyes still boredbore into mine, the hint of something like a smile twisting theits grey lips. A tugging feeling had me grasping tugging and grasping are so similar in meaning, that the sentence is confusing because I get the impression they are being used to describe the same thing. Maybe you should exchange tugging for odd or strange for something to steady myself on. I began to feel disconnected, and a clutch of fear gripped me. And then...I was somehow in the pit. With a cry of shock I reached for my sword, wheeling to face the Sal’cun...But it wasn’t there. I became aware of the fact that no one was trying to save me. I looked up, only to scream as the light stabbed Pained? Hurt? Stabbed seems a bit out of place here? my eyes. With growing horror I looked down at myself. I looked at myself, but only saw the body of a Sal’cun. Dimly, I heard the echoes of my own disgusted snarl, in response to the question I had brushed aside.The rabble cheered and shouted as the body of Ilora raised the great sword. The Sal’cun felt theswords’ sword's weight, and then stepped forward to meet the now-screaming body in the pit. It felt glee at its task, and only glee.After all, there was to be no forgiveness... And I screamed as my own body stepped forward, my trusted sword raised against me.
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