Young Writers Society

Hello, I am new the to young writers society and this is my very first post on this site.

Please offer and constructive criticism as I know I desperately need any help I can get - particularily with grammar. I know this piece needs work and I look forward to having it torn apart. I've read some fabulous and intensely drafted reviews so I look forward to what is to be said about this piece (positive or negative).

All suggestions and comments are welcome and very much appreciated.

This is the intro the second book of a trilogy that I am working on, and even though it is the second book I am trying to make them stand on thier own so it shouldn't been difficult to pick up on the story or the lives/ pasts of the characters.

Prologue

Month of Ovair, 23rd day, year 937 of the New Moons

It was late into the evening hour and Gaven was filthy and starving. He stared bitterly out of the small hole that acted more as a window in the wall of his tiny hovel, out into the darkness that swept over the land, encased in its shadowy embrace.

The rotted wooden floors were caked in dirt and grime. Irritably he scratched at himself. His course wool rags were irritating his skin horribly and he had developed an intolerable rash that encompassed most of his body, particularly in sensitive areas.

Wind hissed through the cracks in his walls and gaps in his roof. The sky rumbled above and he knew it was soon going to rain. Gaven’s stomach grumbled defiantly distracting his thoughts from the sight of the coming down pour.

He hadn’t eaten a single morsel in nearly three days. Gaven looked down at his filthy hands in disgust and then proceeded to stop scratching his burning crotch to tear at his now itching scalp. It had been fifty years since the War of the Dragons where Cerlyn had been slain by the One-Who-Had-Been-Chosen.

Shortly after the fall of the Queen of Dragons, Gaven had been made to pay for his lifelong allegiance to the dark Queen by having his vast properties, title and wealth stripped from him. Driven from his lands and home he had been forced to live like a peasant, forced to eat half rotten scraps and sleep in filth and squalor.

Now he was pushing his ninety first year and although that was still considered to be nearing the end of his prime, with plenty of life still left, poverty had not agreed with his noble sensibilities and age had not been kind to him. Gaven had not seen his reflection in a mirror in close to fifty years but he was sure that given his filthy matted hair and ragged beard which was more grey then the rich brown of his former youth, that there would not be many who would recognise the banished Lord.

The door to his home opened and soft footsteps could be heard. He turned around to look at her; his wife. Rain started to pour down heavily behind her and slipped through the holes in the roof to drip steadily on the foul floors. She was wrapped in a shawl fashioned of the same dirty, scratchy wool as her faded and old gown. She held something in her arms, tucked away under her shawl to protect it. Shortly behind her another woman slipped into the hovel, dripping wet from the heavy rains which were now pouring down relentlessly.

Both women were dark haired and had soft brown eyes and, like Gaven, were painfully thin.

“Well.” Gaven demanded impatiently as he wrapped his arms around his tightly for warmth. The heavy rain had brought with it a damp chill and his breath misted before himself in shaky clouds. “Well?” Gaven demanded again. His wife stepped forwards and bowed her head, her eyes landing everywhere else but on his face.

“I—went to the brothels in town…” She began in a shaky voice that trembled with memories that would not soon be forgotten. Quickly she pulled out what she was carrying under her shawl and handed it to him. It was a parcel wrapped in faded dirty white cotton.

Consumed by hunger and greed, he ripped the strings holding it together, exposing the stale half loaf of bread and hard yellow cheese. His stomach rumbled once more, loud enough for him to hear it. Savagely he tore apart the bread and stuffed it greedily into his mouth, ignorant of the two starving women who watched him selfishly devour everything, not daring to ask for anything as they both knew all they would get out of it would be a beating and would still be starving afterwards.

Gaven did not speak until he had eaten every last morsel, he had even gone as far as to pick out the few crumbs that clung to his tangled beard.

“That’s it?” Gaven swallowed the last mouthful of hard stale bread, looking down at the few tiny crumbs and cotton wrap that he held in his hands. “Between the two of you this was all you could afford?” While his wife took a hesitant step forwards to reply, the younger woman kept her back firmly to the wall, her features very much like the older woman.

“I worked very hard.” His wife spoke up trying to sound bold and confident but her quavering voice betrayed her fear. “I serviced more men then any other whore in the brothel--.” Gaven’s features suddenly went cold and hard as it slowly started to make sense.

“And what about her.” Gaven spat out, his tone cut through them stronger then the cold wind which was now hissing loudly as the storm raged around them. His wife now took three steps away from him and cast a glance at the young woman who was tucked away in the corner and looking as if she wanted nothing more then to disappear altogether.

“I worked hard enough for both of us.” Gaven’s chest trembled, his breathing was hard and fast, anger filling every inch of him.

“You disobeyed me.” His wife dropped to her knees, tears now leaking down her dirty cheeks. She held her hands before her imploringly, her matted hair hanging around her in greasy brown waves.

“She’s only thirteen.” Gaven brought his hand back and slapped her hard across her face. His wife braced the ground with her hands and took a moment for her vision to clear.

“You disobeyed me!” Gaven stood over her, his voice booming so loudly the room seemed about to burst from the force of his rage.

“She’s—your daughter.” The woman sobbed. “She’s just—a child.” His daughters soft sobs could be heard as she now sank to her knees, rocking back and forth as she watched her mother’s body tremble with fear and pain. Gaven always went through fits of fury, and when he did, he would go until they were so bruised and battered that it would take weeks for the wounds to heal themselves and for the welts to fade away.

Gaven stooped low and snatched his wife’s mane of brown hair and pulled savagely so that she was back on her knees.

“Damn you woman!” He bellowed and struck her again with his free hand. Because he held her hair fisted painfully in his hand she was anchored to the spot, and each blow set her skull on fire. Gaven was so incensed and full of fury that he didn’t notice the door had opened once more and a figure draped in black had stepped into the rundown dump and stood there ominously.

Only when the door slammed shut hard, creaking in protest to the heavy handed gesture, did Gaven release his wife’s mane of matted tresses and turn to face the intruder. Gaven squinted in the dark to try and make out the features of the man who now stood before him unmistakably dry and dressed in very fine clothes and wrapped in a black cloak, his face hidden by shadows and endless black fabric.

He was tall; pushing well past the six foot mark and even through the heavy cloak Gaven could clearly see that he was a man built for strength and power. Although Gaven knew that he should fear this intruder, he was far too enraged and hungry to pay heed to reason.

“What in God’s Blood are you doing in my home!” Gaven bellowed so loudly, his fist shook at his side for emphasis. The figure continued to stand there silently, ignorant of the cowering woman and child who held onto each other not too far behind him, pressed as far as they could go into the tight corner.

Silently the figure strode towards him but Gaven held his ground, repeating his angry demands and spitting out countless threats. And when the hulking intruder continued to ignore him he threw a swift blow which the man caught effortlessly with one hand. A black glove gripped Gaven’s wrist and squeezed mercilessly. A muffled scream escaped Gaven’s lips and he tried to free himself from the man’s iron hold but when he pulled the figure didn’t budge or waver for a second.

“Please—.” Gaven sputtered, his knees buckling from the pain that exploded up his arm when the intruder’s grip clamped tighter. Anymore pressure and Gaven was sure his wrist would snap like a twig.

The seconds peeled away like an eternity, but eventually Gaven’s wrist was freed and he hugged it to him indignantly. He looked up at the face hidden in the pitch black of the shadows and watched as a pair of yellow eyes started to glow from the darkness. Gaven took a step back and gasped in horror. Now that his anger had ebbed he was now overcome by a new and even more powerful emotion: Fear.

“Who are you?” Gaven demanded, his back braced against the thin wooden wall, the wind hissed loudly in his ear and rain poured through the window and pelted him like icy arrows. “What do you want?” Thunder erupted loudly outside and lightening filled the room. For a moment Gaven could see the features hidden in the hood and felt his stomach curl and knot in terror. Whatever, whoever he was, he was not natural.

“Gaven…” The man finally spoke in a voice that sounded as deep and dark as death itself and still boomed with unmistakable power. “I want Lord Gaven.” Gaven gulped visibly at hearing the formal use of his name. His knees buckled and trembled terribly and he had to keep the wall at his back to support him.

“What do—you want with me?” Gaven finally managed to say at last, trying his best to keep his tone steady, calm and confident. Once more the figure advanced on him, closing the distance between them. Gaven tried to move back but realised that the wall was there and there was no where left for him to run. He watched the hulking figure move to him and he whimpered and raised a shaking hand as if to protect himself from the wrath this man was sure to unleash.

“Don’t kill me!” Gaven wailed and turned his face fearfully. The intruder raised a black gloved hand and pulled back his hood. His gasp was joined by those of his wife and daughter who could see him from across the room.

His skin was entirely black, and his lips were curled back into a grin to bear razor sharp teeth, two of which dipped a bit lower like fangs. Eyes, a hideous shade of yellow and glowed in his sockets, his pupils were a thin black slit reminding Gaven of a dragon’s. Only the top of his head and was covered in hair and secured into a ponytail that hung well past his shoulder with a black gold clasp. And in his nose was a black gold ring that was placed between both nostrils.

When Gaven lifted his gaze to the strangers intense eyes it was to see a long thin slit that covered most of the left side of his face, slashing down from brow to chin, running over his eye…That scar! Gaven realized with both horror and surprise.

He knew that scar!

His eyes grew so wide they felt as if they were going to fall from his head. Gaven opened his mouth to speak as disbelief settled over him.

“You!” He gasped, his trembling returned. “You’re supposed to be dead! I heard the stories—your body—I saw your body!”

Gaven remembered when all the followers of Cerlyn, those who had been known to have been her faithful supporters had been brought before a newly erected council of elders who had decided what was to be their individual fate.

Gaven remembered laying eyes on a corpse that had been brought through during the middle of his trial to be identified by the Chosen One, that bitch Sorsha. She had been the one who had appealed to the council and suggested that Lord Gaven receive the punishment of being stripped of everything that made him a Lord and forced to live the life he had inflicted upon his slaves for the rest of his life.

The intruder smiled and ran his hand through his thick black hair that covered the top of his head.

“You mistake me for someone else.” He replied deeply.

“But you’re—.”

“That man is dead.” The figure cut in coldly, his eyes boring deeply into Gaven’s wide and terrified face. “I have merely made use of his body. A body that was to have become mine eventually, had she lived.” Gaven listened and opened his mouth to protest but no words would come forth. His mouth went bone dry and his heart continued to thunder loudly in his ears.

“She always told me how loyal a follower you had been. Always paying tribute, always meeting her demands. All of her salves were of course obedient as it can be ensured through force, however yours was consensual.”

“Yes.” Gaven said in a voice that sounded too small to belong to him. “I served my mistress the Queen of Dragons faithfully all my life, as did my parents and their parents before them.” The intruder nodded at Gaven’s statement as if silently agreeing with what he had just heard.

“I am in need of your services, slave.” The hulking man before him demanded coldly, his tone not leaving any room for argument. “I bind you to me as you were bound to her.” Gaven couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from him, unable to fully grasp what it was that was being said. It was as if the shock of seeing who stood before him, although somehow transformed into some kind of hideous monster, was too much for him to let go.

“If you prove to be as loyal and useful as you were with the Fallen Queen, the rewards,” as he spoke he dipped his hand into his cloak and held out a black glowed hand that fisted gold coins and gleaming jewels. Gaven felt his mouth water at the sight and his eyes glowed with desire, “will be plentiful.”

Slowly Gaven lifted his stare with great difficulty from the shinning gold faces and sparkling gems to look up at the fearsome features of his new Lord and Master.

“My Lord I bind myself to you in service until my dying day. I am yours to command.” Tucking away the handful of wealth he once more snatched Gaven’s wrist and this time held it for him to see. There in the flesh was a small black disk that was embedded in the skin. Gaven recalled the pain he had felt when he had been restrained earlier, the burning; exploding pain…He had magically received the mark of a slave, the mark that Gaven had branded so many people with when he had once been a great and powerful Lord…

“Yes you are.” The man said emotionlessly then released Gaven’s arm with a careless gesture. “Gather what there is of your things—bring the women, we leave at once.” Gaven nodded obediently and looked towards his stunned wife and daughter as if seeing them for the first time.

They stared at the intruders back, unblinking as if frozen to the spot with terror. Moving with excited speed he yanked both women to their feet and began to drag them towards the door as the enigmatic man exited the small and pathetic enclosure.

Stepping out into the night Gaven looked up at the sky to see that the heavens were split open and the rain poured down relentlessly and yet they did not get wet. Some unseen force was protecting them from the rain and cold. It didn’t take long for Gaven to realize that his new Master was clearly more powerful then even he had originally thought.

There standing out in the night, cloaked like his Lord were three mysterious women. However only one was in black, the second wore garbs of a silvery white and the third in a deep icy blue. Their features were hidden in fabric and shadows. Gaven looked down at the trail that led down the hill through the trees towards the city which was soon hidden behind a shimmering orb of light that soon showed a busy night market. Silently his Lord and the three mysterious cloaked women moved closer towards the shimmering sight when Gaven called out hesitantly, halting his Lord in his tracks.

“My most magnanimous and gracious Lord.” Gaven said smoothly, bowing slightly for added affect.

“Speak.” His master growled impatiently.

“Pardon my interruption,” Gaven began. “But I have just realized that there is no name that you have given me to call my most powerful Lord.” Once more Gaven bowed his head and then quickly chanced a hasty glance up at the figure that stood before him. For a while he seemed to consider Gaven’s words and then soon replied, his voice firm and final.

“For now I am simply your Lord and undisputed Master.” He stated strongly. “As for my name—all the world shall know in due time.” Saying nothing more he strode through the wavering image of the market and disappeared onto the busy streets; the rest of his entourage disappeared behind him.

copyright Fallon Maclean 2008