Warning: This work has been rated 16+.
The liquid silver moonlight shines down from the night sky, illuminating the land below. Only a single valley is exempt from its light, kept at bay by a sinister blackness.A boy, just reaching manhood, glances up uneasily at the dark clouds through the canopy of trees. With his sharp senses to magic he can feel the darkness clawing at his mind and making it hard to breathe.
One of his hands drifts to the satchel at his side as if that might be enough to protect its contents. A piercing scream of pain rips through the air and he hurries his feet. Spurred on by fear and desperation, he runs through the forest until the treeline breaks revealing a small island sprouting from a pond of freezing water.
The boy plunges into the icy water without a second thought. Ice and cold hamper his progress but only slightly. Something more important than his warmth lies on the island.
On the far end of the island stands an elegant shrine. Smooth arches flow underneath tile and above red pillars. A tall arch cut from trees taller than a dozen men stands imposingly out front with white ropes bound around the top and hanging like drops of light.
Dark wooded trees bloom with pink and white flowers within the pebbled courtyard despite the approach of winter. Pillared lanterns of stone glowing with gold light form a path to the steepled entrance.
Any other night, the boy would have been entranced by the tranquility of the shrine, but tonight he can only feel his throat constricting in sorrowful pain. The shrines beauty seems muted and marred by the swirling darkness.
It hangs in tangible wisps in the air like a cursed fog. If he didn't know better, the boy would have sworn that his eyes are playing tricks on him as the shadowing fog swirls and spins and prowls around the low stone wall that marks the shrine grounds like a wolf circling an injured stag.
A smoky tendril slowly seeps over the wall. Suddenly, a dome of light flares into existence around the shrine. The fog hisses and screams as the light burns it into nothing and the bulk of the fog reels back. The light fades away but the boy feels relief sweep over him with the assurance that the protections are still in place.
The boy comes up to the edge of the island and mutters a spell under his breath. A light similar to that which protects the shrine gathers around the boy like a second skin. Satisfied with his ward, the boy drags himself out of the water and starts sprinting for the entrance to the shrine.
Tendrils of fog attempt to reach out and grab the boy but the light burns it away. However, the more fog that the light burns away, the weaker his ward becomes. Fear gives him a surge of speed as he feels the spell failing around him.
The same instant that the boy crosses onto the sacred ground of the shrine, his spell fails leaving him defenseless. Behind him, the dome of light flares back to life again and dissolves the fog chasing him. The boy glances behind him for a brief moment and allows himself a winded smile before continuing inside.
He feels guilty for not kneeling at the entrance and praying to the gods but knows time is of the essence. Satisfied with the knowledge that the gods will forgive his insolence, he tries to think nothing of it. Even the gods know that there is a time for tradition and then a time for action. The boy doesn't completely forget himself though and kicks off his sodden shoes so as not to dirty the polished wooden floors.
He follows a winding hallway to the priestess' room at the back of the shrine. Again, he ignores tradition, not bothering to knock three times on the thin, wooden door, and slides the panel open.
Instantly, several pairs of eyes turn to him. An old man stands between two men with swords and two handmaidens kneel on other side of a woman lying on a thin futon, each girl holding one of the woman's hands. The woman's robes look ripped apart by her own hands, her eyes are squeezed tightly shut in pain, and her brow is beaded with sweat.
For a moment no one speaks but the handmaiden on the right breaks the silence. "You made it back!" she gushes.
The boy nods and open his mouth to speak but the old man cuts him off. He uses his weathered hands to grip a staff and hobble towards his junior. With a scowl etched onto his features, he impatiently snaps, "The moonlace. Did you get it?"
Tamping down his irritation at the old sage, he nods. "I harvested as much as I could carry from South Hill," he says. He pulls the satchel from around his waist and open it to reveal the gentle white petals and vibrant green vines.
Face still drawn in a scowl, the old man takes the pack from the boy. "Excellent. I'll go brew the tea for the Lady."
Accompanied by the sound of a vehement blast, the shrine groans and shakes violently. At the same time, the woman lying on the cot seizes and screams in uch agony that everyone winces. The looks of pain on the handmaiden's faces show just how tightly the woman is grasping their hands.
As the shuddering building calms, the woman's scream subsides along with it. One of the men palms his sword nervously. Glancing around as if the shrine might collapse any minute he addresses the old man. "I'd suggest you hurry with that tea. The Lady will need her strength if she's to survive this."
Looking pale, the old man nods and shuffles out of the room with his cane tapping on the floor. "Time grow short," a voice moans. The boy looks down at the woman lying on the cot and the moment he sees her shining green eyes, he drops to a knee and bows his head.
"Priestess," he says respectfully.
"Look at me," the woman commands with a wheezy voice. At the sound of her words, the boy allows himself to look up at the Priestess. Her green eyes are glazed over with pain and her barely-bound chest heaves as if she must fight for every breath.
"You must hurry. Find the girl." The woman seizes again but clamps her jaw shut and resists screaming. When the episode passes, the Priestess looks back at the boy. "Find her," she continues. "Bring her here. Time is running out. You must find the next Priestess before it becomes too late!"
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125,017 Literary Works • 672,850 Reviews
Hi, HarshLynx! Pan back to review. This will probably be a lot briefer than my review on chapter one, as my feelings on this prologue effectively boil down to 'you don't need it'. In my opinion, the first chapter makes for a much more engaging opening. Nevertheless, I'll still give advice on more general things I spotted in this piece - advice you can apply to the rest of your writing.
Right! Let's get cracking.
It's a really hard thing to describe, but there's something kind of blank about your writing sometimes. It's a bit removed, a bit clinical; I don't really feel what the characters are feeling. I think it comes down to something called psychic distance, which is a fancy way of describing how entrenched the narrative is in your character's perspective. Psychic distance is a spectrum, ranging from removed and objective to a much more subjective, 'close-up' kind of writing. I'll use the examples given by John Gardner, who first coined the term:
1. It was winter of the year 1853. A large man stepped out of a doorway.
2. Henry J. Warburton had never much cared for snowstorms.
3. Henry hated snowstorms.
4. God how he hated these damn snowstorms.
5. Snow. Under your collar, down inside your shoes, freezing and plugging up your miserable soul
You can see how the first example is very exact. It doesn't get into the mind of the character very much; it doesn't describe the senses or get into detail about how they feel. The fifth example, by contrast, is almost abstract in how involved in the POV character it is.
Now, I'll preface this by saying that no kind of psychic distance is 'better' than the others; it all comes down to what kind of story you're writing, and the distance will change as you move through scenes and chapters and such. However, if you maintain quite a broad distance all the time, it becomes very difficult to relate to the character and get into their perspective. It doesn't make for the most interesting narrative, either.
So, let's take a look at that quote again. How could we get closer to the character? I think the main thing I'd suggest would be to describe what he feels in a more physical sense. Instead of saying he's spurred on by fear and desperation, talk about his heart pounding in his throat, or the cold sweat pooling in the small of his back. Talk about his feet catching on tussocks of grass and roots, about the driving ache in his legs. Instead of saying the water is freezing, talk about how he experiences it - about how it bites at his skin, drags at his clothes. If you root the description more in his perspective, we'll feel it more.
Rule of thumb: strong verbs are better than weak verbs propped up by adverbs. So 'darted' or 'dashed' would be better than 'moved quickly'. 'Gripped' would be better than 'held tightly'. By the same logic, something like 'looms' would better than 'stands imposingly'. The world isn't going to end if you use adverbs, but if you can find a verb that does the same job in one word, you generally should go with it.
Non-finite 'ing' clauses should be separated from the main clause with a comma, so this sentence should look like:
The same instant that the boy crosses onto the sacred ground of the shrine, his spell fails, leaving him defenseless.
We do this to ensure that the right meaning is being created. Take these two examples:
The dog barked at the cat running down the road = the dog barked at a cat that was running down the road. 'Running down the road' modifies the cat (i.e. the object of the sentence).
The dog barked at the cat, running down the road = the dog barked at a cat while also running down the road. 'Running down the road' modifies the dog (i.e. the subject of the sentence).
The addition of a comma changes the meaning dramatically. Returning to your example, 'the spell fails leaving him defenseless' is a bit problematic without the comma, as it almost makes me think that the spell has failed at leaving him defenseless, and thus mean that he isn't defenseless, you know? That's why the comma is important.
Right, I think that's it for more specific comments. Before I sign off, I'll explain a bit more thoroughly as to why I think you don't need this prologue. The main reason is that it just didn't grab me in the same way. The pacing is a bit slow for me; it didn't hold my attention much until the boy actually got into the temple, and by then it was almost over. There's also the fact that this feels a tad...generic, as an opening. You remember what I mentioned about cliché in my review of chapter one? This falls into that a bit, given that it basically sets up the whole 'find magical successor before it's too late' sort of plot. You could maybe get away with that if the setting and world felt particularly unique, but there's nothing about it that really stands out to me, so it just feels a little flat.
Maybe there are things you could do to make this more engaging as a prologue, but it feels like a bit of a waste of effort when you have a perfectly good chapter one waiting in the wings. This opening doesn't have anything particularly crucial in it, and some people skip prologues anyway, so it wouldn't be a massive loss if you cut it out. I always think that if you can start with chapter one, you should.
I'm really sorry if this was a harsh critique! I am still roped into this story. Every writer finds themselves including unnecessary scenes (I'm the queen of that!), so the redrafting game is as much about taking things out as adding things in. Please let me know when you post chapter two. I'm really looking forward to it.
Keep writing!
~Pan
Hello!
First of I wanted to tell you I find you story engaging. I know it is just the prologue, but I do intend to keep reading. You did a good job setting the tension for what is to come. Also, it shows that you are a good reader as well because the vocabulary is considerably broad. What’s more, you have an ear for active verbs. That is to say, "the building stands" instead of "there was a building." That type of language paints a better picture.
Now, I will try to be as thorough as possible with the aspects I think you could improve. I am by no means an expert on anything, so everything I say is a suggestion. Not a rule you are forced to follow.
I think the first sentence is a tad clunky and you could smooth it out. Right not it is:
The liquid silver moonlight shines down from the night sky, illuminating the land below.
Here, for example, I would take out the word liquid. It is not wrong, but too many adjectives can muddy a sentence. Also, I would eliminate the comma and swap “illuminating” for “and illuminates.”
Now the phrase “senses to magic” is not grammatically correct. Maybe you could change it for something such as “senses attuned to magic.”
In this other sentence:
Pillared lanterns of stone glowing with gold light form a path to the steepled entrance.
I would write “Pillared stone lanterns glow with gold light and form a path to the steepled entrance.”
It is similar to what I suggested in the first sentence. By changing the gerund, you make the sentence clearer. Simple sentences make some of the best sentences. Also, now the glowing part is not only a description but an action.
This one is just personal preference, but consider changing “his throat constricting in sorrowful pain,” to “his throat constricting with sorrow.” It gives roughly the same idea but it is less wordy.
Now, some writers want to avoid “starts to” or “starts” followed by a verb inding in “ing” at all costs. The idea being that the verb itself can express that it starts, develops and ends. I don’t go to such extremes because I consider it necessary in some cases. For example, if the action is halted halfway or something significant occurs in the middle of it.
Let’s look at the following one:
…starts sprinting for the entrance to the shrine.
In this one, given the context, I would think you would benefit by eliminating the starts and changing the verb to simple present.
Punctuation seemed really good all throughout, except in this sentence:
An old man stands between two men with swords and two handmaidens kneel on other side of a woman lying on a thin futon, each girl holding one of the woman's hands.
It is a run-on sentence. Some writers might choose to not follow grammar so strictly. In this case I would advise doing it because the flaw makes it harder to understand. Try dividing it into smaller sections and even adding words if need be.
Finally, I think you are missing an “s” in the following phrase: time grow short.
I will try to add more comments about the story, characters and tension in the future and make it less prose-centric. But for now I hope that you find my review useful.
All the love,
Mari