please leave any comments and/or suggestions on improvement
thanks in advance 
Update: alright ive updated it so its in harmony with my version (finally 
) ive added quite a bit, look forward to any more reviews 
The Oath
Prologue
He feels he has walked this path before, along with his brothers and cousins. Along the hot gleaming sand. Slowly roasting his feet, preparing them, for the barren bone-dry plains of rock yet to come.
It is hot; he feels it through his hardened skin, through to his bones. The single relief is the slight wind, kissing his sweaty skin. This is the god’s reward to his race, for the sweat offering drawn from their skin by the light goddess Sol who travels across the sky and shares her harsh heat. Even when Sol finishes her journey for the day and takes the light, the sand still roasts anything brave enough to set foot on it.
And yet it is not lethal, and for that he is grateful.
He walks this honoured path with pride; his head held high and hands clasped behind his back, only moving his legs to walk and his hands to sip water from his flask dangling from his pack swinging from his shoulder, and another on a string belt; which in turn holds his thin leggings. He wears only these and his wide hat strewn from straw. These garments offer little protection against the burning rays, but they are enough. These riches he found as a boy in the sand near his hovel, upon inspection the tribe elder insisted they were remnants of the Long Before, despite the arguments from the younger members of the tribe that this was impossible. He himself doubted the old man’s accuracy of the memory. The wise old man died of lung fever soon after, he didn’t doubt anything told by the old man after that; considering he had predicted his own death several days earlier.
And that is the reason he walks down this path, to usher the soul to the aether, the space in between life and the afterlife. And once there, the soul must decide between going back to the place of life and becoming a shade to walk with the courier for the rest of his or her life, or going forward and passing through. But first the soul must get to the aether, and for that it needs to accompany someone down the long path to Roca Grande.
Every few days, when Sol is in the middle of the sky, he scans the landscape for anything unusual. But the only things worth noticing are the rocks and small animals; the rocks indicate he is nearing the plain of rock, the animals’ rarity only seconds that observation; nothing can live on the rock, most things can’t even live near it. Only the strong ones. And the strong ones tend to be larger, and stronger; hence the name.
The next day was a tiresome one, the water he has has warmed so far in the sun it feels as if it dries his parched throat as it runs down it; rather than replenish his thirst it only makes him want more, but he cannot drink more, there seldom is a stream or pond in the desert, and if he runs out, its a long walk back to the last one he saw. He closed his eyes and thinks back to the village, he could drink whenever he wanted to from the stream that runs through his village. But his people had less and less need for water as the ages came and went, so said the elder, and the elder before his elder. It seemed the god’s were gifting them with strength for the years of praying and offerings.
That’s right, when I was a boy our people would have to drink once everyday, whispered a frail old voice that seemed to come from behind him, now the people need only drink once every day or two, you are good to remember this, young one. It seems my teachings remain after I no longer have a phisical food-hole to tell them with. He could imagine the old man laughing at his own joke as a spirit.
Then he could feel his heart start thumping as he wondered where the voice had come from in the first place, he spun round trying to spot what the source of it was when the voice spoke again, Don’t worry boy, it’s just me. Now don’t tell me you’re scared of the old man that you made fun of so many times?
As he felt the little colour he had left drain from his face he heard the old man laughing. Then he realised he wasn’t hearing the voice, he was feeling it.
Smart boy! It seemed the elder could hear his thoughts also.
‘Why can I hear you?’ he yelled.
Because I chose for you to. Oh, and you don’t have to yell, I can hear you just fine.
'Great, just what I need, an elder in my head,’ he complained to the air in front of him, he didn’t mind if he heard this. The elder had endured much worse from him and his friends in the past.
He reached a nice spot for camp shortly after Sol had retreated behind the horizon, it had two tall palm trees and the sand still had a nice warming layer of heat upon it. He settled down on the sand and pulled some butch out of his pack, butch was a tough yet tasty meat dried out in the sun for a full day then collected and put in the storeroom, lasting amazingly long in his climate. He dug his teeth into the meat and stared wonderingly at the horizon, there were still things unknown out there, he knew, one day he wanted to discover at least one of these things. He was pondering whether or not he would find something of interest on his journey when the strong taste of old butch bombarded his senses and cause him to splutter in surprise, trust himself to pick what tasted like the oldest piece of food in the storeroom. Once his senses had settled and he had finished his food, he stared at his pack and wondered what other surprises awaited him when it came time to eat next. He then flung back his head and laughed into the growing night.
No living thing could hear him, and he didn’t care. This was the most humorous fact that had occured to him all of his journey.
Once he settled down, he lay back as he did every other night and closed his eyes waiting for sleep to welcome him into its warm embrace.
He dreams.
He’s standing in the middle of a huge landscape of grass and trees; he has never seen such a bountiful land. The birds sung their cheerful tune in this land, the only birds he has ever seen in his life are fearsome beasts with huge claws, the elders did not wish to name them out of fear that the name would attract these air-borne monsters, these birds were petite colourful puffballs compared. The land bent and swayed, the sky was a beautiful shade of blue and the clouds were slowly drifting along with the wind.
He snaps back panting, on every part of his body he can feel sweat, like he's been running through that amazing forest in his dreams, it seemed so real, he swore he had felt the wind along his arms and chest, and hear the birds singing. But he is back in the forsaken wasteland of the old desert now, so he cannot breathe in the pure air of the amazing place he had glimpsed, and cannot look at up at the sky in longing.
He weeps.
*
He woke the next morning to Sol’s harsh gaze and the outline of a small predator bird, staying as still as he could; he felt saliva slowly dripping onto his chest. As his eyes adjusted he could tell the bird was bent over and sniffing his skin. He planned his next moves carefully, and quickly.
He shot his hand up and wrapped his hand around its long and furry neck, while slowly sitting up and bringing the bird down he could see it losing consciousness, this is the only effective defence against these birds. Once he was comfortable the bird was out to it, he slowly edged his hand into his bag and withdrew a small sharp blade, one loaned to him by a friend.
He slowly drew it up to the tender neck of the bird, the blade glittered in the sun, he could feel the steel spirit of the blade stir beneath his hand; thirsting for blood, the virgin blade waiting paitiently for the chance to show its potential.
After he had the blade resting against the neck of the ugly bird, a thought flickered across his mind; a simple thought, only consisting of three words: Predator becomes prey. The thought went as quick as it came. Holding the birds neck in one hand and the blade in the other, he ended a life, and watched blood seep out of the long and lethal cut he had made.
He put the bird down and stood up, still gazing upon the now dead bird. Now desparate to look at anything other than the bird, he tucked the blade back into his pack, stood and started walking, only stopping to don his hat.
[spoiler]2nd note: his name and more info from his past is revealed in the next chapters[/spoiler]
wow
pretty interesting :]
I liked it
the only thing that I think you should be careful of is
You go from:
He snaps back panting, on every part of his body he can feel sweat
and He weeps
to:
He shot his hand up and wrapped
Just thought I should tell you to be careful and not go from one tense to the other
or at least I think thats the word I'm looking for
wow, that's really good what you've suggested, thanks.
do you mind if i use it? if you do just pm me and i wont use it in my next update
again, thanks
-Grimy
edit: forgot to mention, im currently working on the 2nd chapter, so no major changes will be made to this part, ill get to that afterwards
It was a pretty good start, my only critique is there were a lot of redundancies as far as word usage.
Every few days, when Sol is in the middle of the sky, he scans the landscape for anything unusual. But the only things worth noticing are the rocks and small animals; the rocks indicate he is nearing the plain of rock, the animals’ rarity only seconds that observation; nothing can live on the rock, most things can’t even live near it. Only the strong ones. And the strong ones tend to be larger, and stronger; hence the name.
Every few days, when Sol is in the middle of the sky, he scans the landscape for anything unusual. But the only things worth noticing are the rocks and small animals; the rocks indicate he is nearing the plain of rock, the animals’ rarity only seconds that observation; nothing can live on the rock, most things can’t even live near it. Only the strong ones. And the strong ones tend to be larger, and stronger; hence the name.
Very interesting story. there is the ocassional typo here and there but other than that its great! A+ 4 u!
tanks for teh review
it is the beggining by the way
from all what ppl have said i know i need to do some serious editing on the prologue
i might cut out him digging for water, and make the time he spends in the desert much less, instead of "After roughly ten passes of the sun," i might put "the next day was a tiresome one, the water he has has warmed so far in the sun it feels as if it dries out his parched throat rather than..." and continue like that, and mention that through out the ages his tribe has been in the desert they have used less and less of the water offered in the local stream that runs through the desert, implying meta-morphasis.
just an idea, but i might use it.
i might put some things about the elder's spirit contacting him during his dreams or during the day.
please bear with me as this might take a while.
EDIT: oh, and please click the star at the top if you like it
I really liked it, surprisingly better then chapter one to be honest. For some reason I had a strangely clearer picture of him in my head though you only described his cloths. 
Thats just me though. I frankly think this would be a better begining for your book but thats your call.
Uh, I thought the whole thing with transporting the spirit to the place was really interesting but shouldn't it be done by a kind of certified spirit sheperd or something? If everyone could do it why didn't a whole band of people go so it would be less likely to run out of supplies?
And yes, running out of water in the desert is a very bad thing, either show that he paniked or tell us that he knew how serious it was but kept a cool head. The water in the ground mixing with the sand to make mud was accurate but how does someone drink mud? Still a problem.
I also think it would be cool if he could somehow communicate with the spirit he's sheperding. Nothing wrong with that part of the story, I'm just giving suggestions, and if it doesn't go with your story and I'm just rambling on, just tell me to shut up.
Like I said, I liked this way better, you took things slower and did things more thouroughly. I would have liked a tad bit more detail, instead of just describing the sun tell us what the endless, resistent harshness of the desert is like, and how he's used to it. Or something like that.
PM me when chapter two's out!
-Pol
Sol is a goddess; female
chapter 1 is already is already posted, its in my portfolio if you wanna read it (its under "The Oath" folder)
im working on improving the character and how i show him to the reader, so please bear with me
-Grimy
Okay, I was getting confussed with the sun god Sol. Is it a e or a she? I think once I read it was a she and the next it was a he...
The charater is a little sketchy so please notify me on chapter one when it comes because he makes veg sence to me. I might be able to peice it together eventually. 
But good so far. I liked how it has the descriptions of the diffrent things like the dried meet and the places and gods.
-Amber
thanks everyone!
ill start edting it today and when im finished ill update both the prologue and chap 1
looking forward to anything anyone might have to say
-Grimy
He feels he has walked this path before,
which in turn holds his thin leggings.
After roughly ten passes of the sun, he met his first obstacle. He has no water left; it was small enough obstacle,
He was pondering wether or not
Comments in red! Mostly opinions - I'm just pointing out what 'feels weird' to me. Feel free to ignore my ramblings.
grimy89098 wrote:The Oath
Prologue
He feels he has walked this path before, along with his brothers and cousins. Along the hot gleaming sand. Hmm, the last sentence feels somewhat lonely and cut off, and the along repetitive. What I would do is remove the first along altogether, and connect the two sentences. Slowly roasting his feet, preparing them, for the barren bone-dry plains of rock yet to come.
It is hot; he feels it through his hardened skin, through to his bones. The single relief is the slight wind, kissing his skin where there is sweat. This sounds odd, maybe "kissing his sweaty skin" would be better? This is the god’s reward to his race, for the sweat offering drawn from their skin by the light goddess Sol who travels across the sky and shares her harsh heat. Even when Sol finishes her journey for the day and takes the light, the sand still roasts anything brave enough to set foot on it.
And yet it is not lethal, and for that he is grateful.
He walks this honoured path with pride; his head held high and hands clasped behind his back, only moving his legs to walk and his hands to sip water from his flask dangling from his pack swinging from his shoulder, and another on a string belt, which in turn holds his thin leggings. This is a very long sentence. I'd suggest dividing it a bit. He wears only these and his wide hat strewn from straw. These garments offer little protection against the burning rays, but they are enough. These riches he found as a boy in the sand near his hovel, upon inspection the tribe elder insisted they were remnants of the Long Before, despite the arguments from the younger members of the tribe that this was impossible. He himself doubted the old man’s accuracy of the memory. The wise old man died of lung fever soon after, he didn’t doubt with anything told by the old man after that; considering he had predicted his own death several days earlier.
And that is the reason he walks down this path, to usher the soul to the aether, the space in between life and the afterlife. And once there, the soul must decide between going back to the place of life and becoming a shade to walk with the courier for the rest of his or her life, or going forward and passing through. But first the soul must get to the aether, and for that it needs to accompany someone down the long path to Roca Grande.
Every few days, when Sol is in the middle of the sky, he scans the landscape for anything unusual. But the only things worth noticing are the rocks and small animals; the rocks indicate he is nearing the plain of rock, the animals’ rarity only seconds that observation; nothing can live on the rock, most things can’t even live near it. Only the strong ones. And the strong ones tend to be larger, and stronger; hence the name. Think this is a bit unnecessary, since you've made your point on the strong already.
After roughly ten passes of the sun, he met his first obstacle. He has Had! No sudden switches of the tense used please! no water left; it was a small enough obstacle, but deadly if not overcome soon. He hadn’t a solution ready, but decided to brood over it as he walked. What was that trick his close friend had shown him that day; the one they would use in case of drought or similar circumstances...
That’s it! The memory struck him fresh. He quickly bent down, pulled off his pack and rummaged around. After a minute and a cut on the finger later his slightly bloodied hand emerged with a rather small and crude spade. He quickly set to digging at a steady rate. Because he was walking away from the tribe, the god’s blessing of water was growing weaker. So Could do without this. the ground here was less moist; and You want 'as' here instead. such he had to dig deeper to find any actual water. When he found enough he had a sip and attempted to scoop some into his flask; successfully to a degree, but any amount of sand in the water would irritate his throat, and there was no way he knew of to separate the two. But it would suffice.
He continued on his way with only a quick glance at the sun; to determine how much time digging for the water had taken. Not much, but he hated to waste any time, and therefore he had used too much time.
He reached a nice spot for camp shortly after Sol had retreated behind the horizon, it had two tall palm trees and the sand still had a nice warming layer of heat upon it. He settled down on the sand and pulled some butch out of his pack, I'd use a semicolon instead of a comma here. butch was a tough yet tasty meat dried out in the sun for a full day then collected and put in the storeroom, lasting amazingly long in his climate. He dug his teeth into the meat and stared wondering at the horizon, Stooop! Time for a dot, else it sounds awkward. there were still things unknown out there, he knew it, one day he wanted to discover at least one of these things. He was pondering wether or not he would find something of interest on his journey when the strong taste of old butch bombarded his senses and caused him to splutter in surprise, Put a semicolon here instead of a comma. trust himself to pick what tasted like the oldest piece of food in the storeroom. Once his senses had settled and he had finished his food, he stared at his pack and wondered what other surprises awaited him when it came time to eat next. He then flung back his head and laughed into the growing What's a growing night? night.
No one could hear him, and he didn’t care. This was the most humorous fact that had occured to him all of his journey.
A nice and easy start to the story thar. One thing though, since you covered the protagonists' clothing and all, why not what he looks like? Unless of course it's a major plot device you plan to use later!Ok ill just post a full critique:
It is hot; he feels it through his hardened skin- Hardened refers to? Because the only way your skin can be hard is if you have calluses. Unless it’s a metaphorical phrase lost on us simpletons
He walks this honoured path with pride; his head held high and hands clasped behind his back, only moving his legs to walk and his hands to sip water, from his flask dangling from his pack, which was swinging from his shoulder, and another on a string belt, This in turn holds up his thin leggings.
-I May have got the meaning you intended a bit muddled, but that sentence is a bit confusing for the reader. If you don’t think this comment applies feel free to ignore it
The wise old man died of lung fever soon after, he didn’t doubt (with) anything told by the old man after that; considering he had predicted his own death several days earlier. – I think removing the with may make it run a bit smoother.
After roughly ten passes of the sun, he met his first obstacle. He has (had) no water left; it was a small enough obstacle, but deadly if not overcome soon. He hadn’t a solution ready, but decided to brood over it as he walked. What was that trick his close friend had shown him that day; the one they would use in case of drought or similar circumstances... –Ok, you seem to be tense jumping a bit here, very minor[i]
He continued on his way with only a quick glance at the sun; to determine how much time digging for the water had taken. Not much, but he hated to waste any time, and therefore he had used too much time. – Repetition of the word time weakens this a bit, I suggest slashing the last one. Makes it sound a lot more powerful
He dug his teeth into the meat and stared wondering(ly) at the horizon, there were still things unknown out there, he knew it(slash the it from here), one day he wanted to discover at least one of these things. He was pondering wether(whether, not wether) or not he would find something of interest on his journey when the strong taste of old butch bombarded his senses and cause him to splutter in surprise, trust himself to pick what tasted like the oldest piece of food in the storeroom. Once his senses had settled and he had finished his food, he stared at his pack and wondered what other surprises awaited him when it came time to eat next. He then flung back his head and laughed into the growing night.
Very, very good so far, enjoyable read.
Hope this critique helps, keep it up
Hello!
Ok. I read through the whole thing.
Great job!
Apart from a typo (or a few typos) here and there, it was fine.
I don't think I spotted any mistakes. ^^
Sorry if you're unsatisfied with this short little, miserable 'review'. (I wouldn't really call this a review.)
I'm still quite tired from my basketball training and so, my mind's not really in the right state.
I'll do a better job on the next part you post, though! I promise!
PM me when you post the next part.
I'd like to read it. ^^
-Max.
120,616 Literary Works • 651,094 Reviews
Points: 890
Reviews: 5
Donate