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hey bluewaterlilly! how are you today?
Firstly, I'd like to say that you really have something good going on here! You obviously love your story and genre, and the passion is really evident. You also have a good grasp on language, you just need to expand. To put it another way; I feel like this is just the skeleton of something that could be really great! Your confidence really grows as the piece goes on - try have that confidence right from the beginning. You really have something special here just remember to take your time with telling the story, and have the confidence to make things bigger and better.

I hope I've been helpful and not just jabbered! Keep it up xx

Hey bluewaterlily. KD here to review! I won't give you a nitpick review today, since you already got two good ones before me. I'll just give you an 'overall' review on this chapter. Wait...is this a chapter of something? Because if it is, you might want to move this to Fantasy Fiction Novels, even if you don't continue your story.

Overall, I thought this was pretty good, and you definitely should continue! It actually really doesn't matter what we think about this for you to continue, anyways. As you see, all of us can have pretty mixed opinions.

In my opinion, you did an especially lovely job with describing the MC in the very beginning of the story; you've got nice imagery in this piece. I also feel that we got a decent sense of the characters being the first chapter and all.
My only complaint here is the ending/the very last line. It's so very cliche...perhaps can you think of some other way to end this/something else? That's just a tiny, tiny thing though, and this ending complaint is just my opinion.

Good luck! Hope I helped. Keep on writing-

KD

Hello. My name is Kiara, and I will be reviewing/critiquing your piece today.

Everything that defines who and what I am has made me different, strange, foreign; an outsider.

Perhaps, this is why I was given up at birth.

Ever since I was five, I have been serving she and her daughter.

She says I owe her for the privilege of a home to live in. There is not a day that goes by that I am allowed to forget this.

Even though she and her daughter have always pushed me around,

...my foster father has always been distant with me; neutral.

...but never defended me the countless times I was blamed for something, and he knew I was innocent.

...because I had stayed up all night the previous night practicing my magic.

To emphasize her point, she began to deliberately shiver.

However, Madaia was still yelping.

Her glare intensified to an evil, almost murderous, glare.

That`s when I decided I had to do the one thing best for me;I to leave.

My plan, so this wouldn`t happen, was to leave and find a mentor who could train me,

I idly finger the necklace I have worn since I was found on my foster parent`s doorstep; the only reminder of my parents.

"Take this. You`ll need it,"

...I whisper, but he is already gone.

...but I know there will be many ups and downs.

Here to review!

Red = Corrections
Blue = Things I like
Green = How I would reword it
Bold = Comments

bluewaterlily wrote:My name is Lilla, and I have always been different then the rest of the people in my village. Everything that defines who and what I am has made me different, strange, foreign, an outsider. My behavior, my personality, even my physical appearance separates me from everyone else. My complexion is deathly pale, unlike all the tanned villagers who labor in the fields. Unlike your typical blond, red, black, or brown hair, my hair is a cross between blond and silver. And my eyes, they are a purplish-blue hue that no one has ever seen. Don`t even get me stared on my facial features... they are elvish looking, you could even say similar to that of a fairy. Did I also mention my deadly secret? I can perform magic. Healing, summoning objects, manipulating the weather, and controlling the elements of earth, air, fire, and water. For years, I have practiced these skills at night, and even though I am good, I still have trouble controlling my powers. This makes me dangerous. Perhaps this is why I was given up at birth. This really interested me, made me want to read on. Good job.

Sixteen years ago, my parents left me on the doorstep of a very poor couple who had a daughter one year older than me. My foster father convinced his wife to take me in. This gave her the twisted idea of free labor. Ever since I was five, I have been serving her and her daughter. She says I owe her for the privilege of a home to live in; there is not a day that goes by that I am allowed to forget this. Even though her and her daughter have always pushed me around, my foster father has always been distant with me, neutral. He never ordered me around, but never defended me the countless times I was blamed for something, and he knew I was innocent. So he convinced his wife to take her in, yet showed no interest in her after? Why?

One cold winter evening, my foster sister, Madaia, was standing not too far from me, watching me with a scowl, much like her mother`s. I tried to ignore her as I tended the flames.

"Can`t you make the fire warmer?" she complained.

"I`m working on it!" I snapped. I was especially irritable, because I has stayed up all night the previous night practicing my magic.

"Well, hurry up!" she retorted. "I`m freezing!" To emphasize her point, she began to deliberately shiver.

Anger blazed inside me, anger that I could not extinguish. The fire responded to my newly kindled fury; the flames grew twice their original size. Flames and sparks flew over my head in an arc, headed straight for Madaia. The next thing I knew, she was yelping like a dog. Shock made me forget my rage, and the fire returned to normal. However, Madaia was still yelping. Her parents rushed into the room.

"What happened?" Are you all right?" Her mother pulled her close and glared at me, as if I were a monster. Her zombie-of-a-husband kept his facial expression neutral. This is the second time you described him as neutral. Maybe you could come up with a different word? Maybe indifferent? But what was I seeing in his eyes? Pity, or maybe guilt? Possibly both.

"Lilla burned me," Madaia said, pointing one burned arm in my direction. Whenever my name was used, I was in BIG trouble. Her mother`s beady eyes lingered on her burned arms. Her glare intensified, to an evil, almost murderous glare. If only I could use my powers, but I wanted to use my powers to help, not to harm. Besides, it would cause me even more trouble. What would happen to me? I shuddered to think about it. I imagined myself being placed on an altar, about to be a sacrifice to the gods. When I focused my attention on the present, my foster father was standing between Madaia`s mother and I.

"Jackamal, how dare you defend that wretch?" Her voice shook with fury. "Look at what she did to our daughter!" She angrily gestured to Madaia`s burns as Madaia nodded in agreement. He raised his hand as a sign of authority that surprised all of us.

"I`m sure it was an accident, right Lilla?" His gaze drifted to me, a probing, but wise stare. It took all my willpower not to avert my gaze or squirm under it. I managed a nod. "See," he said reassuringly. "Now let`s go treat your burns, Madaia." Jackamal shepherded them out the room. They turned their heads toward me, eyes colder than ice. A shiver rippled down my spine.

That`s when I decided I had to do the one thing best for me; I had to leave. I wasn`t going to allow my powers to get me killed. Visions of angry mobs with torches and pitch forks, being burned at the stake, being labeled a witch and drowned, or even being labeled a monster and sacrificed to the gods plagued me. My plan so this wouldn`t happen was to leave and find a master who could train me, so I could master You just said master. Perhaps call the trainer a mentor, or say so you can control your powers or something similar. my powers.

At this very moment, I am packing my few things: a blanket, my cloak, food I stole, and a map (that I also stole). I idly finger the necklace I have worn since I was found on my foster parent`s doorstep, the only reminder of my parents. Both the pendant and the chain are made out of bronze. Emblazoned on the circle-shaped pendant is a strange flower. The flower has as many petal as a rose, but the petals are star-shaped. Underneath this strange flower is an a strange writing that I can not read. Fingering my necklace always reassures me; I brush my fingers against it one more time for good luck. As silent as a mouse, I tip-toe to the door, but as my fingers touch the door knob, I sense a presence. I whirl around to find myself face to face with Jackamal.

"Going somewhere?" he asks me.

"You won`t stop me," I reply, surprised by the ferocity in my voice. Jackamal shakes his head and raises both hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Take this, you`ll need it," he says, uncurling my hand and placing a small pouch in my palm. The pouch is full of coins. "Good luck, Lilla." He turns and walks away.

"Thank You," I whisper, but he is already gone.

My fingers, clumsy from shock, fumble with the doorknob. Shrugging off the shock, I step outside. I breathe in the fresh morning air, the first taste of my freedom. The morning breeze brushes against my face, like a gentle caress. I smile. I`m headed for the next village. I`m not sure what this journey has planned for me, but I know their will be many ups and downs. Not worrying about this, I continue to advance forward, leaving my old life behind, and not looking back.