Published February 12, 2007
(before you read this, let me get this straight. I suck at writing tension and fight scenes. I'm more of a writer that writes about things like guilt, honor, pride, ect. I really, really, really need help on my fights. If you do review [and I really hope you do], don't even bother sugarcoating it. Tell me what's wrong and how I can get it better. If you do review, thank you so much!!)
Sersemon finally looked up from the cremation fire. "How did my father die?"
Aiekeir flinched inwardly, but adapted a blank expression.
"Stop that," Sersemon snapped, startling Aiekeir with his sudden hostility. "I found out years ago, but I didn't push it, because I knew that she...she hadn't found out yet." he stared into the flames a little longer.
Aiekeir glanced at the boy, unnerved. Sersemon's customary smile and laughing eyes had drained from his features, leaving the face of a boy almost driven mad by loss. He wondered if it was safe to tell him.
Sersemon saw his indecision. "Aiekeir, I need to know!" His voice was pleading, but his eyes were hard.
The Pyronian hesitated, then took a deep breath--and told him everything.
He told him about the day where he, Sersemon, his sister, and their father were stopped by the Pyronian prince, how his father had beaten him in a duel for the lives of him and his children, how he had shown mercy to the prince by letting him live. Sercemon's glare darkened as he went on in a soft voice about how he couldn't stop the prince from driving his sword through Sersemon's father's turned back, how the twins had been attacked, how he fled with them to Deirsteiyo with barely his life.
There was a long silence as Sersemon contemplated what he had been told. "Why didn't you kill him?" he demanded.
Aiekeir spread his hands in dismay. "He had fourteen men attacking us, I had an arrow through my chest, you were bleeding terribly... I was still bound by my oath to your father to keep you and your sister safe."
Sersemon set his jaw bitterly. "Well, you did a good job on that, didn't you?"
Aiekeir winced; hearing it from Sersemon made his failure seem worse. Sersemon's sister marked his third falure. Aiekeir buried his head in his hands, wondering if he had lost the Sersemon he once knew.
Sersemon sat gazing into the flames for a moment, then stood up and started towards the mouth of the cave.
Aiekeir looked up. "Where are you going?"
Sersemon didn't even turn. "I'm leaving Deirsteiyo. I'm going to find your prince. And he's going to die."
Aiekeir's stomach tightened. "Sersemon, don't be absurd," he said gently. "I promised--no, swore--to your father to keep you safe."
"But look at what your prince did to me!" he cried, finally turning. "He killed my father, my sister, trapped me in this so-called 'sanctuary'--" he angrily touched the scar that rand down his face--"and gave me this." He pursed his lips, then started back towards the exit.
Aiekeir watched him, then sighed and rose from the ground. "Fine. We go."
Sersemon whirled. "We?"
Aiekeir gazed back, unfazed. "Yes, we. I'm not going to let you go by yourself."
Sersemon bared his teeth and drew his sword. "I order you to stay, then."
The Pyronian's heart sank at the sight of Sersemon's weapon. He wasn't worried about being hurt. Far from it.
But the sight of young Sersemon threatening him pained him.
"Sersemon, I don't want to disobey you. But your father's orders came first, and I will obey them first."
"He's dead; I'm alive. You are staying."
"In my culture, the words of the dead are more important the the words of the living. No offense to you, of course."
Sersemon lunged, aiming the point of his sword at Aiekeir's chest. The Pyronian grimly dodged, his own sheathed scimitar hitting his hip.
"Sersemon, you're being ridiculous," he said gently. "You can't beat me."
The boy smirked. "You taught me yourself. I know all of your tricks." He swung the sword towards Aiekeir's neck, but he rolled away. He still didn't draw his weapon.
"You told me that it takes more energy to dodge than to fight," Sersemon said, noticing Aiekeir's slightly labored breathing. "How long do you think you can keep that up?" Without waiting for an answer, he swung his sword at Aiekeir's side, a blow not easily evaded.
Aiekeir grabbed Sersemon's arm and tried to twist the sword free. But Sersemon knew him too well. He whipped a knife from his belt and dragged it across the Pyronian's arm. Aiekeir cried out and pulled away, gazing at him with a mixture of horror and dismay.
The boy he had cared for and carefully raised had wounded him.
He examined the gash, then lowered his arm with a sigh. He could fight just as well with his left hand. "Sersemon, I don't want to fight you."
The boy impassivly sheathed the bloodied dagger back into its sheath. "You only say that because you realized I do have a chance at beating you." And, for the fourth time, he attacked Aiekeir again.
Aiekeir finally pulled his scimitar and gravely blocked the blow. He had never raised a hand, let alone a sword, against Sersemon.
Then again, neither had he.
The Pyronian blocked every blow effortlessly, looking for a way to end the fight without hurting his charge. Finally,Sersemon thrust his sword at Aiekeir's stomach. Aiekeir whirled away, throwing the boy off balance for just a moment. In that moment, he stepped behind him, grabbed his shoulder, and jammed his knee into the back of Sersemon's, forcing him in a kneeling position. He pressed the flat of the blade against the boy's neck.
"And you knew all of my tricks," he whispered in his ear. "What chance do you think you have against the Prince of the Warrior People?"
He held Sersemon for a moment, letting his words settle, then finally released him. He stepped in front of the boy and held out his hand, but Sersmon ignored it, getting to his feet himself. "I'm not seven anymore," he growled, shoving his sword back into it's sheath.
"I know you're not," Aiekeir said quietly. "But you have to stop thinking like one, and until you do, I'm going with you."
Sersemon glared at him. "Fine, we go," he muttered. "Pack up some horses and ask Mossa for some food. We leave tonight." And he left the cavern.
His coldness made Aiekeir feel hollow. He wathced him go, then stood in the cave for quite some time, struggling to keep his self-control. Then he moved to the spring a few caves down. he rinsed the wound Sersemon had given him, and after a some hesitation, scrubbed off the stain on his cheek. The S branded on his face still showed clearly, even after fourteen years.
And all control broke loose.
He broke down and wept.
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Hmmmm...Stealing my characters I see. Well, at least you didn't try to create an entire story with them. At least you only used them for a study.
that name doesn't sound Pyronese or Tillancian! lol!
I would've been okay with it if it wasn't for that fact that both characters were acting completely different than their personalities. Aiekeir hasn't cried since he was an infant, and Cercemon (Speaking of which, could you not remember Chase's name? lol!) Would have never attacked Aiekeir, however angry he was. They come close to blows, admittedly, but even if they did get in a little sword fight, Chase wouldn't hurt him. And, who's Mossa?
I see now why you didn't want me reveiwing your crud. lol!
And I have no clue what you were blubbering about, mate, when you went off on how you couldn't write a battlescene to save your life. This is good! A little melodramatic, and if I replaced the names, I could pretend that they weren't a mutation of my original characters, making it much easier for me to read. lol!
But yes, this is very good! Keep writing! I haven't seen anything new for quite some time from you, mate!
No more of this "my action scenes are cheesy" stuff, lady. No self-depreciation allowed! This has character. And, by general definition, it kicks some serious behind.
To start, I know that sometimes writers break them up so that certain lines have more impact, but in the case of your piece, I think that there were a couple of line breaks where it would have done just fine as one paragraph, like here:
Anyway, that's just little stuff, I suppose what you really want critiques on is the juicy action bit.
Here, it's difficult for me to discern who is doing what.
I'm not a fan of starting the sentence with "but" - I think it would be a smoother transition if you just put a comma there and made it a compound sentence.
Here, I'm glad that you left it as a new line.
That should be impassively, just a little typo. "For the fourth time" tells us that Aiekeir has already been attacked multiple times, so the "again" at the end of the sentence is a little redundant. I think it would be better if you took out one or the other.
I take it that's supposed to mean that Sersemon hadn't ever raised a hand against Aiekeir before, but the reader sort of has to assume that. The structure of the sentence isn't really parallel to the previous one, so we're left thinking, "Neither had he what?"
I see where you're going with this and it IS very powerful and it IS very relevant to Aiekeir's characterization, so it needs to stay - I think you just need to find another way to word it.
This is a nice paragraph. The prose is kind of punchy, which is what you want. I think the "in that moment" is superfluous, because the reader is going to assume that it's happening in the aforementioned moment unless you tell them otherwise.
Aww, Sersemon unhappy puppy. D:
Okay, this is majorly nit-picky, but in the last paragraph, Sersemon described himself as "not seven" - as in, the adjective. But then Aiekeir tells him not to "act like one" - as in, a seven-year-old. So I think that either Sersemon needs to say he's not a seven-year-old, or Aiekeir needs to tell him not to act like he is (seven).
Oops!
This is almost too straight-forward. How about showing us how he's struggling to keep his self-control through his actions?
This is nice, but the repetition of the word "broke" here kind of hurts the effect. If you could substitute one of them for a word you haven't already used, I think it would have more emotional impact.
I don't think you're bad at writing action/tension scenes, far from it, but if you want a little extra help, I found a nice article last night by a writer named Holly Messinger, which you can find here. It points out some interesting things that you can do to help the pacing and flow of action scenes.
I'm happy that this has a story and a proper setting even though it's just a study; there are a lot of nuances and dramatic touches here that make it very cool to read. So... stop being so hard on yourself!
Hi there Madien
Haha. This reminds me of Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith when Obi Wan dueled Anakin. Sesemon was like Obi Wan and he was forced into a kneeling position from Anakin. This rocks lol.
Nice dialogue.
I like this piece. The fight was well built up and kept me interested. You described the fight well and I felt as though this was a Star Wars duel lol. The end of the fight was just right. Nothing over the top, nothing less.
Well done Madien.
the Aiekeir i told you was ten years old.
This is the 24-year-old Aiekeir. there's a huge different.
when something as sudden and drastistic happens, your personality usually changes just as dratsicly.
Aiekeir stopped being a stubborn brat several weeks after Piete Weik Wuien
Hey, wait a minute.
You described Aiekeir to me. He was prideful and stubborn, wasn't he? who hated Tillancians? why the heck is he so tender to Sersemon?
keep your &*%$ characters accurate!
I was really tired when I did this so a few things might sound a little funny:
Really good I thought. Try rereading before you post things and most of your problems will be fixed.