When Fyn opened his eyes, he was standing in a courtyard in a golden city.
Its splendor put Mithrinden to shame. Sloped-roof buildings and domed spires plated in pure gold gleamed so richly that Fyn had to squint to see. A warm sun overhead glistened off the pearl pavement at his feet.
The soft smell of flowering apple trees lingered in the air. The courtyard Fyn stood in, shifting barefoot on paved stones in his human form, overflowed with life. The trees bore fresh green leaves and bright pink blossoms and ringed a circle of fresh flowerbeds blooming with purple and red flowers Fyn did not know the name of. A cheerful brook splashed between the trees to his right.
In every respect, this city was wholly and completely paradise. Except for one thing.
Behind Fyn, curved as if it ringed the city, was a stone wall that must have once towered so high it was lost in the clouds.
But now it was ruined. Great chunks of rubble had cascaded down both sides and rolled in every direction, spreading carnage on both sides. The ruin was jagged and ugly, a sore talon in this perfect, golden city.
Fyn looked back at the courtyard and stumbled backwards in shock. There, on the other side of the courtyard, seated in thrones upon a raised dais, were six men and women. Each one of them stared silently in a different direction, not moving. A seventh chair sat empty at the end.
In the center of the dais, an intricate, multicolored web of light gleamed. Even as Fyn watched, a strand of light burst from one of the women and wove itself into the floating ball, filling in some of the gaping holes.
It hit Fyn then what was missing: sound. His own breathing was loud in his ears, and he heard the brook babbling, but a city should make noise, and this one did not. Even the back streets should ring with the echoes of sellers and buyers and a thousand thousand feet treading the pavement. That was how Promise had been. That was how cities worked.
Here, there was nothing to stop him from hearing his own heart pounding loud in his ears. The city was empty, and its wall had crumbled to pieces. And suddenly Fyn was quite certain that the only ones to ever inhabit this city were the six beings sitting on those thrones.
“Where the hell are we?” a voice muttered behind Fyn.
Fyn started, then sighed when he saw it was only Sasha. She held her wings stiff and awkward, and kept her palms bent, ready to flick out her knives at a moment’s notice. He frowned, just on edge as she was. Something was out of place.
One of the women on the dais stood and descended to greet them, taking no notice of the silver thread of magic binding her to the web of light. She was tall and regal, with deep brown skin and silver hair that rippled loose over her shoulders. Though it surprised him that her skin wasn’t silver, Fyn did not need to wait for the woman to introduce herself to know who she was.
“Lady Mithrinde,” he said, and surprised himself by kneeling. It felt right in a way prostration before drakes never had. She was Cassia’s goddess, and had fought for Fyn even though he was a drake, and so the respect he paid now was more genuine than any he had paid before.
“Hello, Fyn,” Mithrinde said, and her voice was like a lake, but one where wind lapped at the water, broken and just a bit choppy. She took his elbow and lifted him to standing.
“Welcome to the gilded ex-prison of the gods. Your Archpriests faced us here, every year, and renewed our bonds. This time we came willingly.”
“The Treatise,” Fyn said. “Did it work?”
He was guessing now, as he looked back and forth from the other, frozen gods to the woven ball of magic in the center of the dais. Two more of them now had lines of power connecting them to the woven magic.
“So far, yes,” Mithrinde said. Her face was tight and pained, and the silver thread around her chest seemed to flicker.
Sasha’s wings rustled as she stepped up beside Fyn, and that all-too-familiar movement sent a rockslide crashing down in Fyn’s head.
“Cassia!” he shouted, springing back and scanning the courtyard wildly. “Where is she?”
Now Fyn knew what was threaded through Mithrinde’s voice. It was bitterness.
“Where do you think she is?” the goddess said. “What foreign mote was she holding? Do you see Selach here, ready to bargain?”
Fyn’s blood ran cold. He had forgotten, in the hurry. They had all forgotten. Cassia still held Fyn’s old mote.
And Selach could claim whoever held that mote as his own.
“He took her.” His voice was not his own. He observed it, distant but not detached.
Cassia, his second and dearest friend, had paid the price for the birthright he had tried to leave behind.
He balled his fists, but his fire did not kindle, either intentionally or instinctively. His strange half-magic had curdled inside him, souring to a small, tight ball that did not mirror the anger that boiled over.
“You’re a god too!” Fyn shouted at Mithrinde. “Couldn’t you have stopped him? That was the whole point of the two motes!”
“I just agreed to be bound!” Mithrinde snapped, pointing back at the half-formed Treatise. “He took her after she sealed our part!”
Fyn spun around rather than continue to shout at her. He faced toward the ruined city wall, nails digging into his palms so hard he bled. Now his anger was only for himself. He should have known. He had thought this old magic of Selach would be enough, that he could hook the god and reel him in and bind him.
But he’d been an idiot, or maybe just a coward.Only now did he notice the pale red line trailing from him to the Treatise. Of course — he’d finished his part of the Treatise after all, and sealed the words with magic. But that magic was hardly Selach’s, anymore, and so of course it was not a hook, could not reel Selach in and bind him the way the other Archpriests with their pure motes of connection could influence their gods.
Part of him had known all along that he could not escape his birthright. He was born a drake, and he would die a drake. Telling himself differently had been a delusion.
And now Cassia was paying the price.
Fyn set his jaw and started walking out of the courtyard, toward the ruined wall. He hardly noticed seven dark shapes descending overhead
“Where are you going?” called Sasha after him. “My gods are coming! We have to negotiate for peace!”
And we’ll never persuade them without her. Even then, the war between the gods was the last thing on Fyn’s mind right now.
“I’m going to save Cassia,” he said without looking back. A single bead of blood welled from his left palm and splashed onto the cobblestones.
------
Darkness swallowed Fyn the moment he stepped past the rubble of the city wall.
He didn’t slow or stop. He walked on into a featureless void, with no thought of direction or distance. It didn’t matter. Cassia wouldn’t be far.
Selach wanted Fyn to come to him. He would have known, or guessed, that taking Cassia was the only way he could ever lure Fyn back.
He was walking to his death. Fyn knew it as surely as he knew his own name, knew that he was trading his life for Cassia’s. That was fine. His life had already been forfeit. He was bound to Selach by virtue of his birth, and giving someone else his mote had only ever been a temporary solution.
Better for him to take back his mote, and die, then, before Selach could use him for any more evil. And far better for Cassia to live, and end the war, and go home to her family. Maybe she would miss him, but then again they had only spent a handful of weeks together.
He… loved her. The word was strange in Fyn’s thoughts, as strange as please or sorry had been a few weeks ago, but this word felt so much lighter on the tongue. In the end, it had all been worth it, just for these few short weeks of light.
The only question now was whether he would have the strength to bind Selach in those brief seconds between taking back his mote and succumbing to fully to his god.
He had to, or there would be no Treatise.
The darkness was thicker now, like tar. Fyn forced his way through, step by step, blood pounding and head ringing in the silence. He had never been more aware of every muscle in his body, or how they all moved together with a thought. Soon the next step he took would be his last.
His arm broke through the blackness and into a clearing walled by smoke. Cassia lay on a tiny island surrounded by a thin moat of lava venting hot, hissing steam. Her skin was red and burning, her wings twisted and singed.
Fyn cried out and leaped, but the darkness came alive and held him back, thin cords winding around his arms and legs.
“Cassia!” he screamed, and he struggled, but he could not get one inch further. He tried to summon fire to burn the restraints away, but Selach’s old magic was nearly gone after building the Treatise. What was left was small and hard inside him and he could not grasp it. He still could not quite grasp it.
It wasn’t fair. She was ten feet away.
It seems I have caught a stray fly in my little web, Selach chuckled in Fyn’s head. Fyn lunged againstthe ropes with renewed energy, but they did not slacken even a little.
Or is it a young pup returning home? Selach sneered.
Fyn didn’t answer, but he did not struggle either. He had only one chance.
I always knew you would come crawling back, Selach said. When you realized you would always be mine.
Fyn stiffened.
A blow he could not see slammed into his side, knocking the wind out of him. Selach laughed. Are you still too proud to admit it? Perhaps a little pain will loosen your tongue.
This time the blow was to his head, setting it ringing.
Say it, Selach ordered. Say that you serve me. That you are mine.
Fyn let himself go utterly limp, defeated.
“Yes,” he said, and it was not hard to conjure up the despair in his voice. “I am yours.”
Then take back my gift, little pup, and take her place.
The cords of darkness binding Fyn relaxed. Fyn reached Cassia in a single bound and pulled her body into his arms.
“My turn to save you now,” he whispered, and he kissed her long and drew the poison of Selach out of her and into himself. It scalded his throat, and his world dissolved into pain.
He was drowning, vision clouded in a darkness hot and sticky as tar or lava. It seared every inch of his body, filling his nose and mouth so could never smell or taste anything but fire again.
Was this what death felt like? Even that thought was a struggle. Fyn wanted nothing more than to give up thinking and let himself burn.
But he owed one final service to every young Sasha who had cried in the dark at the hands of a drake.
Fyn dug in every last claw and wrapped the thread of magic from the Treatise around the mote that seared him.
He meant to whisper a final goodbye to Cassia, but his lips were too parched to move.
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125,005 Literary Works • 672,798 Reviews
Hi Mea! Here is your daily review
This will be a shorter one because I honestly don't have very much to say about this chapter! It was great to get to see the realm of the gods, and the escalate the tension with Selach. Of course he would try something sneaky like stealing Cassia so he could get back at Fyn! You also did a great job with descriptions as usual, and so it was cool to get a glimpse into how the gods lived under the first Treastise.
I didn't have many line comments, but here are the two notes I made:
I get that the point of this line was to show Fyn's shock and despair, but I wasn't sure what exact emotion this line was trying to get at, especially with the "distant not not detached." I think a more clear, emotive description (or even a physical feeling) would be more effective!
I'm not sure how to feel about this line, haha. It felt a little cheesy, since they have both already saved each other's lives multiple times xD So saying it's "my turn" feels a little odd, because it's almost normal for them now haha.
The only other suggestion I might have is this part felt a bit thin compared to the others. It moved a little quickly between everything, and I would have maybe seen a bit more emotion/thought from Fyn as he was talking with the gods and starting to face off against Selach. I feel like there's a lot you can do, either in their conversation or leading up to Fyn going off to face, Selach, or maybe even include a quick section from Cassia's point of view, since we haven't see her perspective in what feels like a while.
Otherwise, I also found it really cute when Fyn finally admitted his deep feelings for Cassia! It was really smooth and fit well into the narration, as well as making me go "aww" outloud. I felt like there had been enough of a build up in their relationship, and the way that he had thought about/look at Cassia made the transition to that feel right. (They're also both so cute.) Anyway
Happy writing!
~ Wolfe
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Hi Mea,
Mailice here with a short review!
This was a very emotional chapter. I don't know what to feel or think about it. It was masterfully written and I ended up somewhere completely different from where I started. Fyn has become a man. He is a brave hero who has developed and improved over the hard path of the story. I'm really gobsmacked there.
As always you use the great descriptions to give a glimpse into the world, and again I thought it was excellently presented with great attention to detail. Already in the last chapter there were these many notes which I really enjoyed. One difference there is, though, was that the focus here was definitely more on the descriptions than the emotions, what Fyn is feeling as he stands there. In the last one, that was a little more involved. I don't know why you put it in here like that, because it seemed a bit bare, but good. Maybe Fyn was so taken aback that he couldn't really think at all.
As calm as you created the first part, the second part was surrounded by a gloomy aura. The atmosphere was well described and I was thrilled with how the story moved towards the end. I found it a really compelling piece of how Fyn made the decision and how it also affects the reader in a real-life matter.
What I like in general about this new part is how centred the story seems on the whole and not just Fyn and Cassia. They are no longer alone, but their actions and workings are now a part of something bigger. It's also clear from your writing style that it feels familiar and yet new, with the vibe of the continuation of the story.
I also found that the pace was a bit faster in this chapter than in the last ones, and felt that the chapter was shorter, but I also think that the pace you set here definitely adds to the tension.
Other points that caught my eye:
I would rewrite the sentence a bit here, because you use both sides twice.
Why is this double?
That's a great description. In general, I think you've portrayed Mithrinde in such a human yet majestic way over the chapters that it always makes me happy when she appears somewhere in person.
There's a space missing here.
This is also missing a space.
It was a very emotional chapter. I liked it a lot and it feels like we're coming to an end so slowly, which makes me a little queasy.
Have fun writing!
Mailice
I haven't read any of your previous chapters but your description of the setting immediately pulled me in and grabbed my interest. Your use of active voice in the beginning definently helped with that.
"Sloped-roof buildings and domed spires plated in pure gold gleamed so richly that Fyn had to squint to see."
There's nothing wrong with this sentence, although you could take out 'pure' before gold because you already describe it as gleaming richly, which gives the reader enough context to picture it vividly. It could get a bit wordy otherwise.
"A warm sun overhead glistened off the pearl pavement at his feet."
This is just being nitpicky, but using 'a warm sun' suggests there could be more than one sun. Using 'the' instead could help. It does remind me of your previous sentence when you describe it as glistening, which was similar to how the gold was gleaming. Rephrasing it a bit could add some freshness. For example: "The warmth of the sun's rays basked the pearl pavement in a soft glow." If not that, saying 'at his feet' sounds a bit awkward, you could just replace it with 'beneath his feet' or 'under his feet.'
"The soft smell of flowering apple trees lingered in the air. The courtyard Fyn stood in, shifting barefoot on paved stones in his human form, overflowed with life."
What I'd do to vacation at this beautiful fantasy place! Anyways, you got a little repetitive here again by mentioning his feet. You could just take out the feet part in the other sentence or mention there that he's barefoot. I suggest just keeping the barefoot part because it's a little extra detail that adds to the picture. The way it's phrased also sounds a bit backwards. If you read the second sentence aloud it doesn't sound natural, if that makes sense. As a reader I can definently feel and know that it seems like a place overflowing with life, so you instead could add a sentence about how Fyn feels(his heart swells in delight/peaceful/at ease)...so on.
"The trees bore fresh green leaves and bright pink blossoms and ringed a circle of fresh flowerbeds blooming with purple and red flowers Fyn did not know the name of. "
The sentence gets a bit confusing when you mention ringed. I know that you mean the trees and blossoms circle around the flowerbeds, but it's phrased oddly. The sentence is also a bit of a run-on. I think you're trying to fit in too much description about the trees and flowers and then adding the part where it's located along with more info about what's around it makes it unnecessary. Just trim it down somewhat.
"Behind Fyn, curved as if it ringed the city, was a stone wall that must have once towered so high it was lost in the clouds."
I've noticed you have a pattern of formulating sentences with three parts with two sentences. It's the way that you organize the sentence that makes it sound strange. I suggest just saying it curved around the city rather than adding in a part about as if it rang around the city(you also used ringed earlier in the above sentence). "Must have" is also unnecessary. Make sure not to add in any words that don't add to the sentence or the plot. If it doesn't have to be there, then it shouldn't, like filler words such as 'just.'
"Fyn looked back at the courtyard and stumbled backwards in shock. "
I'm picturing him turning around and then going backwards again and it looks kind of funny. He just turned around and now he's going backward again. You also describe a lot of movements--things being beside him, under him, around him, which could be done without at times.
"In the center of the dais, an intricate, multicolored web of light gleamed. Even as Fyn watched, a strand of light burst from one of the women and wove itself into the floating ball, filling in some of the gaping holes."
Your biggest strength is detail and vivid imagery. I've been able to picture mentally a lot of the setting and what's going on which is awesome. The trend with your weakness seems to be awkward phrasing and some unnecessary filler words.
"“Where the hell are we?” a voice muttered behind Fyn."
You could rephrase this as: 'a voice came from behind him'.
"Fyn started, then sighed when he saw it was only Sasha."
Started what? What does this mean?
"He frowned, just on edge as she was. Something was out of place."
The reader can infer that something is out of place or is about to happen already due to his body language and the sudden change of the scenery. Remember the reader doesn't have to be told everything; a lot of the times they'll already know.
"“Hello, Fyn,” Mithrinde said, and her voice was like a lake, but one where wind lapped at the water, broken and just a bit choppy."
You could remove the "Mithrinde said' after since we already know it's her speaking and then start a separate second after he dialogue describing her voice. Also remove 'just', it's a filler word.
"She took his elbow and lifted him to standing."
Lifted him to standing sounds a bit weird. Maybe just 'lifted him back up?'
"and that all-too-familiar movement sent a rockslide crashing down in Fyn’s head."
Do you mean on his head? Also I was kind of confused about this sentence because I wasn't sure what you're trying to say here.
"He faced toward the ruined city wall, nails digging into his palms so hard he bled."
I know it's fantasy but it seems a bit exaggerated that you could just dig your nails into your palms so hard you bleed, since it's not possible.
"Maybe she would miss him, but then again they had only spent a handful of weeks together."
Since it's only been a few weeks they spent together and he already loves her, you could portray this through description and the way his heart starts racing when he thinks of her or something. However, this is good if he has an impulsive character and is prone to getting attached to people quickly.
"He hardly noticed seven dark shapes descending overhead"
You forgot a period here. Also I didn't catch anything about the seven dark shapes later in this chapter. I don't know if you plan to mention this in the next chapter or if I missed it.
"“My turn to save you now,” he whispered, and he kissed her long and drew the poison of Selach out of her and into himself."
To dramatize this more, you could end the sentence after 'he whispered.' Then have the separate sentence about kissing her and withdrawing the poison.
I'll admit I have no idea what's going on about Selach's magic, motes, or drakes but it all sounds very fascinating. As I've mentioned before, this is all really easy and vivid to picture and definently a really interesting story. I hope you publish one day.
Hey Anamel, I really appreciate that you took the time to read and write a review! I'm glad my story drew you in, but I'll admit that since this is an early draft, I'm not really looking for reviews that mostly nitpick wording, since I haven't done a pass to tighten up the prose yet.
I appreciate this principle, but I think it need more nuance. Remember, this is a story being told from Fyn's point of view, in his voice, and real people use hedge words like 'just' and 'must have' all the time. Obviously in a book they need to use less, and mostly keep it in dialogue, otherwise it wouldn't sound good to read. But when I use those words, I do it deliberately (of course you're still welcome to disagree about whether or not they fit there!) For example, I used 'must have' in this case because Fyn doesn't know that the wall rings the city - he's never been there before, so he's assuming.
Similarly, some of the other stuff you pointed out makes sense with context - for example, I said "A warm sun" because Fyn just woke up on a magical plane with no reason to assume that there would be 1, 0, or even many suns in the sky. He's also basically a dragon person, so his fingernails are really sharp. This is why I try to avoid nitpicks when I review random later chapters of stories - there's always context I'm missing. xD
I definitely appreciate you pointing out the places where the description gets choppy - that's helpful to know when I do my prose editing pass. Thanks again for the review.
Hey there! Plume here, with a review!
Aaaa I can't believe the story is almost over!! I'll save most of the sentiment for the last chapter, but I will say that it seems both like ages ago and like yesterday when I started reading this story. Again, I can't believe we're wrapping up soon. Anyways. Onto the actual review.
I really enjoyed this chapter! I know I say that about every chapter, but I mean it every time. I think what really stood out to me about this one was the way you showed the prison of the gods. It was a really compelling image, and having Fyn and Sasha face all the gods was really cool. It was definitely a very epic moment, and I think the absence of Cassia was made clear and I was surprised by how wrong it felt not to have her there. You did a really nice job of conveying the absence of both her and Selach at the beginning.
One thing I loved about this was the focus on Fyn and Selach. That empty chair you mentioned at the beginning carried a lot of weight to it. It was so cool how it almost paralleled how both groups were missing one of their own. Fyn then deciding to confront Selach and rescue Cassia was a big turning point in this chapter, and having him exchange himself for Cassia was a very moving moment. I'm really looking forward to seeing Cassia's reaction to Fyn's sacrifice, mostly because I know my heart is most likely going to get ripped out of my chest. :') Not sure if Fyn is confirmed dead, but having him tie Selach into the Treatise was a nice touch. It's nice to know he didn't die (or almost die) for nothing.
Specifics
I thought the phrasing in these two sentences was a little awkward. I don't think you need the comma between "mote" and "and." It just puts an unnecessary pause there.
Man, that last sentence hurts. Like. Aaaaaaa.
Overall: really nice work! This chapter was certainly a very emotional one, and I'm soooo curious to know what happens next. Until next time!!
Keep it up!