Dragon Lord- Dawn prt 1

I see people are about confused about the circumstances of Khy's birth. Khy's mother Nuria, died giving birth to Khy and his twin sister Ameli. However Ameli was stillborn, later on in the story I'll introduce Ameli's spirit. Never having lived, Ameli is unable to pass on and becomes a ghost.

Hi! Sorry if I am lazy about quotes, but I want to handle this work paragraph by paragraph.

On to the review
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Lord of Dragon's: (You mean Dragons. -'s implies ownership of an object)

Chapter 1- Dawn-

Deep in the mountains of Asteril, in the country of Laman, lies a great stone fortress. It stands at the edge of the cliffs, and guards the entrance to the valley of Halur. On clear days it is said you can stand upon the castle wall and look out over the whole of the valley. Halur is a peaceful land, with deep forests and a mountain lake, and only a scattering of villages around the valley. A minor province in the country of Laman, save for one task, granted them by the rulers of old.

(I like this, I do not mind an info dump of key points. In fact I would like a tad more description in a less passive form. How is the fortress great, is it because of the location or its limestone majesty?)

It was on Longnight, the coldest night of the year, in the deepest depths of winter, when tragedy struck the noble house. Every torch and candle was lit, and great bonfires burned in the courtyard, to ward out the darkness, and call back the sun to light the world. A few people still celebrated the festival here and there, but most stayed in the shadows, fear holding them there.

(Longnight, guessing not the winter solstice. Specifics on why it is the coldest night and why 'Longnight' was named for it and how it is specifically expected would be helpful for this obscure date. Why did fear hold the people inside?)


The highest level of the keep was meant soley for the use of the Lord's family. In the foyer Lord Raken stood by the windows, looking out out over the courtyard. He had shoulder length dark blonde hair, tied in a check, with a strip of leather. His eyes the blue of the sky, tall and broad shouldered, with a slight belly pouch. The lord was not young, but not old, he had seen thirty-five springs since his birth, and ruled Halur for fifteen of them.

(foyer, Lord Raken...)
(dark and blonde seem to be contrasts, sometimes a darkish color could be called 'dirty blonde')
(Rest could use a bit more specifics besides his accessories.)

Raken sighed and turned back to the chamber. The body of his wife lay on the bed peaceful, her long white-gold hair spread out around her body. Her bright green eyes closed to the world. Beside her a smaller bundle lay wrapped in a sheet, the body of his new born daughter. Raken let his gaze slide over them before turning to the mid-wife.

(Was it not a son you mention below!?)

"Well?" He queried. "Will the babe live?"

The midwife glanced at her lord, before handing him the sleeping bundle. "Yes, my lord. He will live, a fine son, my lord."

(Should have included the midwife in the paragraph prior, since she just appears suddenly in conversation.)

"Pah. What good a son to me, when my lady lies dead? Tell me, can the boy take her place as Priestess?"

(Boy's cannot be priestesses, and I know you are aware of that, perhaps use another honorable title without gender?)

Raken glanced down, barely containing his grimace as he studied his sleeping son. Unlike everyone else in Halur the infants downy hair was black as night. And his eyes the color of molten gold. "I will name him and give him a home. But for all that my blood flows in his veins, the boy is no son of mine."

He spoke as he handed the boy back to the mid-wife, "He will be called Khylaris, a fit name for him, don't you think?" Raken turned and marched out of the room without waiting for an answer.


Jennea bit her lip, scowling she watched the lord leave his son behind without a backwards glance. Lord Raken was a hard man, he had to be, but still, it was cruel of him to give the boy such a name. In the old tounge khy meant 'hope', and laris 'despair'.

(Why does this name fit him? After such a loss it is common that the son will be branded with a name representative of his birth. For instance even in biblical stories the death of a man's wife will bring a name befitting the situation, such as Benoni: son of my sorrow. To place hope and despair together is perhaps damning as the son of a ruler.)

Sighing, Jennea opened the balcony door and took the boy outside. In the east, the sun had begun to rise over the mountains, bathing the valley in golden light. "And so the time of prophecy has come at last." She murmured, glancing down at the babe in her arms, Khylaris was wrapped in dark blue wool, his nose wrinkled in the cold winter air but he continued to sleep soundly. "The prince that was promised is born with the new year's dawn. Your's is a song of ice and fire, a hard path to tread. Many will hate you little one, and few will ever love you."

She turned and went back into the keep, in search of the boy's wet nurse.

Jennea rode through the snow covered streets of Anturia, the sole town in Halur, it was nestled at the base of the keep. She stopped outside the small house she shared with her two sisters. She took the grey mare into the small stable, brushed her down, made sure she had food and water and hurried to the house.

The fire blazed in the kitchen, Arya and Senia waited for her at the kitchen table. They waited just long for her to hang her cloak on the peg, and then pelted her with questions.

(Descriptions of Arya and Senia, even vague ones if minor characters.)

"Stop it." Jennea demanded, she took her seat at the table and grabbed a piece of bread. She focused on filling her empty stomach, waiting with some amusement for her sisters patience to run out.

They did not dissapoint.

(disappoint)

"Well Jen? Was it really him?" Senia finally burst out.

Chuckling, Jen shook her head, of course Senia would lose patience first, she was only nineteen. Three years younger then Jen, and four younger then Arya. "Yes, it was really him. Unless you know of any other yellow eyed boy born on longnight?"

(Longnight is a specific date, should probably be capitalized as such.)

Arya rolled her eyes and reached over to hug Senia. "You know there isn't, we're all just excited and a little bit scared. So, what did the lord name his son?"

Jen pressed her lips together and glared. "He named him Khylaris, which is pretty cruel if you ask me. But it seems Lord Raken blames him for the death of his mother and sister. He acts like it's the end of everything, because there's no one else to be priestess."

(And sister? Wait, what?)

"But it's not. It's just the beginning." Senia murmured, confusion in her big brown eyes.

Sighing, Jen leaned back in her chair. "You know that, and I know that. But he doesn't. And it's not like we can tell him. We can only watch over the boy for now. Only time will tell what is to come."

***

Khy was seven years old when his father first took him to the shrine. The late spring sun shone through the forest canopy. Raken climbed the steps without a glance for the woods around him, but Khy scampered at his heels, his golden eyes taking in all the sights around him.

(More description)

"Where are we going Papa? What's up this path? The town children say you and mother are the only one's who ever came here."

(Isn't she dead?)

Sighing in exasperation, Raken glanced down at the irrepresible boy. Try as he might to blame him, Khy had managed to worm his way into his father's heart. "Your friends were right. This is a path that only the nobles of Halur walk. The shrine up ahead can only be entered by those of our blood."

(irrepressible)
(Why of only their blood?)

Khy grinned and ran up ahead, eager to see the shrine. He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at the building, it was small, made of wood, and floated on wooden platform in the middle of a hot spring.

Confused at the strange building, Khy turned and looked up at his father. Laughing, Raken ruffled Khy's dark hair, before leading him across the stepping stones. "I know it seems like a weird place Khy. I thought so too when my father brought me here. But when this place was first built, it needed to be kept constantly warm. While that is no longer necessary, it would be a pain to move the shrine. It's been left here out of tradition."

(More descriptions of the shrine's outside!)

Khy ran ahead of his father along the stone path. He jumped onto the wooden shrine without hesitation, having clearly decided to treat it as an adventure. He followed his father through the cloth curtain into the shrine.

The room was small and round, the wood polished to a dull gleam. A single lantern hung from the peaked ceiling, the light-globe inside gave off a warm light. The floor sloped towards the center, where three round stones sat nestled in a pile of brightly colored silks, they shone softly in the lantern light. One stone was a mix of silver and white, the colors so close together they blended. The second was an emerald flecked with gold, and the third and largest stone was black with red streaks.

(Who keeps the lantern lit if only they can enter?)

Khy looked up as Raken entered the room, and placed a hand on Khy's shoulder. "What is this place Papa? Why isn't anyone else allowed here?"

Raken sighed and sat down, leaning against the wall he patted the floor beside him, waiting for Khy to sit beside him. "This, Khylaris, is our legacy. Let me tell you a story. Many hundreds of years ago, this world, Gaiya, was ruled by kings. But they were not like the rulers of today. They were ancient, wise, and powerful, for these kings rode astride mighty dragons."

Khy stirred and looked up at his father, his blue eyes had laugh lines around them, and there was white hair mixed with the blonde. "I thought the dragons were just fairy stories. They're real?"

"They were as real as you and me Khy. But no longer. Something terrible happened, a great cataclysm came to Gaiya, it devastated the land. Sea's dried up, mountains moved, cities fell. This became known as the Broken Time. Almost nothing survived intact, only a remnant of stories remain of the time from before. No one knows what caused the Broken Time, but when the dust cleared, the world was made anew, and the dragons, were no more."

He stared at the lantern as if it could show that time, then looked down at his son. "However the Dragon Kings still had hope. For while the dragon's they had bonded their hearts and souls to were gone, a handful of dragon eggs survived the Broken Time. In hopes of reviving the fallen race. They entrusted the eggs to families that were loyal to them, families who swore to protect and nurture the eggs. Then the Dragon Kings followed their bonded into the abyss."

"Years passed. The families that protected the eggs severed ties with one another, to protect the unborn dragons. Then they waited, and waited, and waited, but the eggs never hatched. Eventually it was believed that the dragonets had died like all their kind, without ever seeing the light of day."

"Listen to me Khy." Raken took his son's hand and placed it on the white and silver egg. It was hot to the touch, but still bearable. "Though these eggs will never hatch, they are still valuable beyond measure. Our family has continued to guard the eggs since the broken time, and one day you will take my place and guard them. But you will have a second duty as well."

Khy leaned forward and placed his other hand on the green egg. "I will?"

"Yes Khy, you will. Because while the Lord of Halur guards the eggs it falls to a different family to care for them. Your mother was from that family, before she died she was the Dragon Priestess. And your late sister Ameli, Ameli would have taken her place, if she had lived. But they are dead, and it falls to you to take their place."

Raken cupped Khy's face staring into his son's uncanny golden eyes. They were slightly tilted, with thick black eyelashes, and high arching brows. "One day Khylaris, you will rule over the province of Halur. You will have to pay tribute and loyalty to the King in Lunaria." He named the capital city of Laman. "But you must never tell anyone of this shrine. Not your friends, not your liege lord, not even the girl you will marry. And when your own son is seven seasons old. You will bring him to the shrine, and tell him of his duty. As my father did for me, and I have done for you. This land and these people are yours to protect along with the shrine, no matter what may come."

The words made an impression on young Khylaris, as they were intended to. The boy left the shrine, once again trailing after his father. But before the curtain fell back in place, he glanced back at the eggs in their nest of brightly colored silks. Even if Khy had been told the dragonets inside were long dead, it seemed to him that they still shone with a life all their own. As if the babes inside were just waiting to take their first breath.

(All fine, and probably the better part of the piece's work.)

Overall very nice, taking a quick pace and not stumbling too much. Not many errors that I could find, just a lack of descriptions and some meanings where it wouldn't hurt to have them. The stories ending piece was a bit of an info overload, but I think it is passable without alteration so long as the rest of the piece is given the same attention to detail to setting and characters.

Hello, I enjoyed reading your work, I hope that my review can be of assistance.
Firstly, I think that the first paragraph is a little clichéd, it seems in many stories like this one that the place is peaceful and this causes prejudice from the outset, however I like the names you have thought up for the places. The names of characters you use are nice too, not too over the top, just right.
Secondly I found the birth scenario contradictory, first you say “the body of his new born daughter” then you say, “a fine son” So either something strange is happening in the story or it was an error.
In the old tongue khy meant 'hope', and laris 'despair'. I like this
The story was good overall and the ending was nice, I look forward to reading more.

I enjoyed this. It was pretty cool and interesting. I noticed a few mistakes here and there and if I can find them again...

In the old tounge khy meant 'hope', and laris 'despair'.

Well...hm....

The story started off with a tad bit of info-dumping that I think could be altered a little bit so that it isn't 'telling' as much as showing. After the first few paragraphs though, the story picked up, so that was good. The ending was very nice and interesting to read. The only thing I think I'm wondering about is how Khy is responsible for his mother and sister's death. I think an explanation will have to be written for the next installment or something.

But I'm rambling. Very nice. Hope to read more in the future.