Published July 26, 2006
Start of a short fantasy....
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Chapter One - Creation
The mauve sand swept onto the dunes and formed spiralling eddies around the feet of the Master. The sand was warm and soft but gritted as it moved about his naked ankles. The Master was unfazed; He looked onwards towards even more desert, all purple as the acres before.
The Master raised his hand and opened his mouth into a slit with his thin blue lips up and below it. He pressed them together again in a fiendish pattern and uttered his first word in two hundred years. “Bracken!”
His voice was dusty, and gravely, just like the sand. Air rose into his throat and scratched at the sides of it. “Bracken!” This time, more clear, less dusty and with more power.
His eyes widened and his pupils shrunk, his silver hair blew back with dyer force. His black teeth shimmered with the new moons light and He broke a smile. The Master fought for his position against the wind, a pebble against an avalanche. But He stayed. The Master stayed against all odds, He was unmovable, a mighty, concentrated force in a purple dessert. The wind rose even further and the desert was plunged into dawn time, the sky went bleak and a streak of lightning fell onto the earth.
“Bracken” The Master had spoken. His voice was louder than anything humanly possible, it carried throughout the entire desert, through the entire world, every grain of sand shook with his voice, He commanded and the desert obeyed. The lightning grew, thousands of streaks forked the earth at the call of Him. He looked to the sky and the rain fell, water upon water like one had never seen before.
The Master orchestrated the world now into a dark symphony, as He rose his hand the sand rose with it and formed a solid twister of destruction. The lightning hit it and spiralled into its craw to form an electrifying weapon, sending daggers of glass in all directions of the desert. It grew and grew, a monster of a sight, a power that no man had held before. And the Master commanded.
The Master lowered his hands and the purple sand, once again, swept at his naked ankles.
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140,533 Literary Works • 673,403 Reviews
Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),
Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!
Anyway let's get right to it,
Okay...well this certainly makes for an intriguing start here. Its always intriguing to have what appears to be some long lost being waking up and something something up, but it seems that here we've got someone that's been almost wondering the place for sometime, now yelling what appears to be a seemingly normal if somewhat meaningless word. It definitely gets your attention at any rate.
Alright well that escalated a lot faster than I thought was going to be possible. This is getting a little intense here. I was expecting this to be something of a person waking up and maybe setting about some sort of journey but now we've got a full on storm of sorts and it feels like world is somehow fighting this person for some random reason.
Okay...well that ended both kind of as I expected but also not as I expected. Things just properly escalated all the way upto an entire world fighting against this person and then we end with the person just sort of having taken calm control by wrestling the world to his whim almost. Its an interesting contrast but I did expect to see that ending but did not think that was how it was going to achieve that ending. Its a good surprise though, and this story definitely does enough to make you want to keep reading here.
Aaaaand that's it for this one.
As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.
Stay Safe
Harry
Ahh... I've got to crit the rest of this. I'm behind. ^_^ I'll try to have Chapter 4 commented upon soon for ya...
Thasnkyou for the edit, I have made the corrections and deeply appreciate your comments.
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Chapter 4 – Nightly Chills
Fyrne shivered underneath his thin purple robes. He looked up to see harsh clouds carved up with daggered icicles floating just above him. He shivered again at the site of them but focused his little strength on flying through the air. Rhiney, the oldest and frailest of the mages hovered about 30 metres in front, shivering even more than Fyrne was. Fyrne felt for him, his young heart desperately beat through the cold chill, he could only imagine what Rhiney’s heart was feeling.
“I can feel a strong aura of magic nearby,” stuttered the robust man. Fyrne closed his eyes to shield out a buffer of wind that shot through the air. As Fyrne did so he became warm, warmer than ever and his mind was at peace, he breathed in and instead of bitterness was pollen from the hedgerows and fresh grass from the mowed lawns. He opened his mouth and sweet pine dappled his tongue. He opened his eyes.
The Mages were gone, the coldness and clouds had all gone, he was no longer flying as he felt soft moss underneath his bare feet. The Eden he had smelled and tasted was alive in his eyes. He followed all sorts of woodland animals darting in and out of the trees and fidgeting in pampered paradise. Fyrne stood and rubbed his eyes again, the image didn’t go away, it was there, still real.
Where am I, Fyrne thought but didn’t dwell, Fyrne liked the place, he wanted to stay. He’d sooner be here than in the frozen skies any day with some washed up mages. He smiled in a cruel pity as he remembered Rhiney, the frail mage leader. He smiled again when his eyes suckled on a fresh water stream nearby, he ran to it. His feet pounded on the soft moss again. With a dive he splashed into the water.
It was cold, colder than the sky, he was frozen again. The shock punched him. The happy glimmer that was in his eyes vanished only to be replaced by a sheer hardness. But he wasn’t back in the skies, the garden wasn’t a dream. The water rippled but Fyrne didn’t move. Something was moving towards him.
A fear welled up inside of him, the garden that welcomed him so became alarming. All his senses were alert but he still could not move, he was frozen, every fibre in his being was glued to the air, he tried to turn but to no avail. Another ripple travelled towards him.
He tried to scream, no sound left his mouth. In fact the whole garden was silent now apart from the soft ripple. He sensed his body leaving the water, something was pulling him with ease, he was nothing to what ever it was as there was no struggle. I’m prey, Fyrne cried inside but his thoughts were soon extinguished when blackness filled his eyes.
#
Fyrne stopped all thought, shock had made another blow and this time knocked him out of consciousness. When he roused the blackness was still there, an enormous shadow leering over his body. He could move now, his muscles had been regained; he backed away until he felt scratches down his back. Fyrne had hit the base of a tree. He looked up and up and up until two white eyes met his, Fyrne searched for pupils but none were found.
“Shield!” Fyrne screamed in instinct and a blue light shot from his hands forming a bright aqua coloured dome around him. The light rippled and it gave him some protection. A slight relief filled Fyrne, he had the upper hand of magic, he smiled mockingly. Then the shield vanished. Fyrne’s eyes widened.
“Shield, shield, SHIELD!!!” But no light came from his hands and once again he was prey to something much more powerful. He stood but fear almost pulled him down. He tripped on a tree root but continued backing away. The black shadow didn’t move. He raised his hand again, palm forward ready to attack at any instant. He breathed heavily and his face burned up. His heart pulsated even more than in the frozen skies. For the first time for along while, Fyrne was helpless, he was no longer the popular kid with the powers, no longer the arrogant boy who thought he was cool because he was a mage. He was weak and his powers were nothing compared to …well… the other powers.
Fyrne stopped as he felt a cold hand touch his shoulder. He breathed and turned expecting to see the mages come and rescue him but the purple robes were no where to be seen, but a man was there. A tall man with long silver hair and glittering eyes.
“THERE’S A MONSTER!” Fyrne screamed at him, begging for help.
“Silence!” The man’s voice echoed, for what seemed like an eternity.
Fyrne’s legs gave way and he was forced, by some power into a kneeling position before the man.
“You will speak when spoken too.” The man’s voice echoed again.
“Who are you?” Fyrne groaned, half in fear and half in curiosity. But he didn’t have time to listen because he fell to the floor, his skin exploded as he felt like a thousand daggers were forcefully twisting against his flesh. Fyrne’s lungs erupted with loud screams, his eyes rolled over and he lay calm.
“Interuptions deserve punishment, however in answer to your question, I am the Master,” the Master spoke with a force that could command armies, raze castles and conquer worlds. “And your name young mage?” Fyrne got up but kept his kneeling position.
“Fyrne of Rhineymagus”
“From now on you will address me as Master,” His voice murdered the air as he spoke. “You are of great importance to me young mage.”
Fyrne remained silent but lifted slightly. I’m of importance to a Master? He waited for the Master to continue.
“You see the last of the mages, Rhineymagus, including yourself seem to see their Master as a threat, am I a threat young mage?”
Fyrne didn’t know how to answer. He debated the best possible answer because for some reason he became loyal. “Yes Master, your power is a threat to such weak mages such as I, Master,” he bowed his head.
The Master smiled slightly but returned to sternness within a split second. Fyrne shook his head, what was he doing? He was betraying his friends, his teachers.
“Now I want you to go back in there and remove the leader.”
“I’m not doing anything!” Fyrne shouted.
“Protecting them? Love them?” The Master mocked, rising Fyrne to the challenge. Fyrne’s eyes watered, several tears came down his face. He was torn now, the Master was so desrible, the power and the magic he would be rewarded with. The power he could learn. Then there was his loyalty to his teachers and clan of mages, he thought of them freezing in the sky and that coldness protected him from the Masters temptation, he had been a fool for that fraction of a second and it could have cost lives. The Master wouldn’t convert him. He was loyal to his fellow mages until the end.
Standing up, Fyrne saw the Master’s face distort, it became etched with a thousand years of hatred and greed. He became snakelike and in an instant the shadow man appeared behind him, his eyes burning red with a desire to kill.
And now for Chapter Three... ^_~
Nice first line... but in the next sentence you're talking about severity, and at first it seems like you're describing his hands rather than the older men. You may want to structure that differently to avoid that.
"...an older mage spoke, his voice frail..." You don't need the "was".
Another run-on - "...with intentness, for her was the oldest mage there, and the wisest..." The "for" in there would make it run smoother, I think...
Very good here, nice explanation of the Masters and therefore the first two chapters. ^_~
With the feel of the narrative, the danger, the very circumstances and the world you've created here, "Wow" really doesn't work... you might want to consider having Fryne say something different in that context...
Another rambling sentence. And you want to denote that the one "he" is the narrarator of this tale. Maybe - "...throughout, and only when the speaker had finished did the realisation hit him..."
This was very enjoyable to read, Phorcys. It held my interest, but wasn't at all difficult to read. I'd like to crit and read more of this... if you decide to post and more of "The Master", PM me and I'll come over and check it out. ^_~
Great start with this.
Pretty short chapter here again too, but easier to read than long ones... it's a good way to split it up. ^_^
I think "while" would work better than "whilst" for your pruposes here. By this point your reader's firmly in your world, and "whilst" feels to archaic and out of place here. You might want to consider changing that.
Good, you've introduces Bracken nicely, but you're in danger of a run-on sentence when you're describing him. Sentence two is a little long and awkward. Maybe... It's eyes matched and beat the majesty of the Master's - however, they had no pupils, just a hollow, clean, lack of emotion. That way you could cut out the next sentence as well, if you wanted to...
Another good chapted ending, you're really developing the Master here... but one question - he's obviously powerful so why is this the only and first time he's "tasting the icy truth of Mastery"?
Hey Phorcys, here I am. ^_~ Showed up after all. (Chapter One Crit)
Great first paragraph, but the second sentence doesn't seem right. "The sand was warm and soft but gritted as..." maybe gritty rather than gritted?
Once again, a very good paragraph, but a little awkward on the description of the lips. A lot of the first sentence is superfluous... do we need to know that his lips are above and below his mouth? Lol, most peoples' are... Maybe ...raised his hand and opened his think blue lips just enough to make a slit, just barely...
Wonderful, but for the middle of the first sentence. Gravely? Gravely is an adverb and here you have it modifying his voice/the sand. That doesn't work, perhaps just a simple grave would do better.
Rather than "pupils shrunk", pupils dilated maybe?
This here is very very good, and ultimately an exceptional ending to Chapter One... a lot of people, when the attempt this sort of ending end up coming across melodramatically (like me, lol) but this was very good. I like the last line, and how it echoes the beginning. ^_^
anyone?
Chapter 3 – Magery
Fyrne stood in a circle of fellow mages, looking up at the older men and then down at his 15 year old hands. They bore looks of severity: eyes unblinking, frowns dominant. Fyrne just had a duty and that was to do as they told him. He knew little of what was going on but as a mage he was forced into magical combat.
“A Master is among us,” an older mage spoke, his voice was frail. Fyrne turned to him and listened with intentness, he was the oldest mage there, and the wisest. The frail mage had seen the first and second of the magic wars and almost seen his last. He was now the head of the group, Fyrne treated him with respect. He kept quiet as the superiors spoke.
“A Master? But how can that be, they were all vanquished in the last war.” A robust man and several others whispered at this. The frail mage rose.
“That’s what we told you, the real Masters fled, there powers were thin. They went into dormancy for hundred of years to concentrate there magic.”
“LIES!” The robust man screamed.
Fyrne covered his ears at this but just enough to shelter the noise, he was curious about these Masters. The only magic he knew was combat magic in training, he had never heard of a Master before. He grew in curiosity and confidence and interrupted a growing silence.
“What are Masters?” The frail man turned to him with a glisten in his eye, a story was about to be told. The man took a breath and began.
“The Masters, were three men who ruled the land, the seas and the air for 5 millennia through magic that nature had never seen, their powers were beyond all human knowledge.” He paused and breathed again, his eyes wide at the remembrance.
“They were cruel times, lad, cruel times. The Masters were harsh, they enslaved all humans to their bidding, they had utter control. There powers became obsessions; they used to enjoy exercising the magic to insight death, pestilence and pain!” He breathed again, his face was white. Another mage brought him a drink. “Many lives were lost, m’boy, too many. But then something strange happened.” Fyrne gradually edged closer, wanting more of the story.
“What happened sir?” Fyrne asked with a slight forcefulness.
“The sky!” he stood up and stretched out his arms. All of the mages were transfixed on his story. “It became aflame, three billion comets fell to the ground and burned all civilisation made by the Masters.”
“Wow…” Fyrne found himself saying under his breath, “What happened to the Masters?”
“The fires burned there type of magic, wiped it away. The Masters were defenceless. Two were whipped to death by the people who were affected. The third escaped and fled beyond the rocky mountains and even passed the Evesblood ocean into a far off land. There they say that the one and only Master is rebuilding his power to one day rule the world again.
Fyrne kept interest throughout, when he had finished the realisation hit him. A real life sorcerer could be a threat; he could be fighting a real war. He was scared for once in his life. He shivered and looked around at the other mages, all too cold with fear.
The frail one looked around at each of his pupils, smiling. “You might actually do some work this time lads!”
“Sir, this Master, what exactly are his powers?”
“The Master has unlimited power, he can create and destroy. His weaknesses have never been fou—“
“—Then we must fly to meet this fiend,” the robust mage called. All agreed and one by one they lifted off the ground. Fyrne closed his eyes and felt the air underneath his feet and his cloak fluttering at his ankles. He breathed and shot off after his superiors.
You're welcome! ^^
Thanks for the feedback.
Very intriguing. Made me want to know who the Master is and what he's going to do with Bracken, besides how he became "the Master" in the first place. He must have an interesting past.
I like your descriptions of Bracken, but this paragraph is all run-on sentences
Corrections in red
This sentence confused me and could be clearer.
another run-on. I would make this two seperate sentences starting at "together."
I really like the rest of the chapter, especially the imagery of Bracken's strength against the desert. Keep it going--I wanna read more.
Thankyou, I look forward to more comments.
When I have more time I'll come back and give this a good serious going over.
Chapter 2 – Destruction
The purple sand lay calm whilst the Master glided over it in twisted awe. His eyes focused on a single object, his brain child, his creation. The tear of His eyes shimmered and reflected darkness, a shadow of humanity: Bracken.
Bracken’s entire being was blacker than the night, it looked like a human shaped hole, leading to a different world. Its eyes matched and beat the majesty of the Masters, however they had no pupils, they were hollow and clean. Bracken had no emotion, it just stood, lifeless waiting to be beckoned by its’ master, the Master. The power of the elements had fed Bracken’s strength and the Master’s hands had dictated proportion, now for the testing.
The Master lifted his head slightly, his silver hair bounced back in the slight breeze. He, once again, pursed his lips to perform a word, “Forward!” Bracken looked and for several seconds did nothing, and then it raised its leg and made one large step. The desert trembled with Bracken’s movement.
The Master’s eyes glistened once again and the tears were dappled in the breeze that became warm with the Master’s emotion. The Master had created a life, a life that had the power of all the elements. He was the creator and Bracken was the destroyer, together they would conquer and the Master would rule.
The Master could not refrain from licking his thin lips; they soon dried in the heat. He licked them again. “Destroy the desert!” The Master’s voice was forceful carrying all the dominance of fire and the power of water. He extended his arms and his form lifted off the earth, higher and higher up to the sky but just enough so he could see what Bracken was doing.
Bracken rose its arm and slammed down towards the sand with almighty power. The sand rippled outwards and went on and on until the desert ended. The earth was forced upwards, like a quake. The ripples formed mountains, they pierced from the earth bringing a fiery liquid with them that scorched the rock and smoked the air.
The Master breathed in the smoke and flames, tasting the icy truth of Mastery.
Ive updated it with corrections and also used a capital "h" for "He" to reiterate The Master's power. Thanks for the comments.
Very engaging beginning. Makes you want to know who he is exactly.
I agree with Adam--you should make the first paragraph less repetative with your use of "the master." "He" or something else would make it flow smoother.
An incredible display of power. I am wondering if the Master is the good guy or bad guy. And i want to know what Bracken is or who. Cool fantasy beginning. I look forward to the next part.
IMVHO
Adam