The horror washed over Thren like a tree blown over by a terrible wave. Lyrik moved toward the inferno that had once been their home.
“No!” Thren shrieked. The sound was just loud enough to startle him. In the brief moment of hesitation, Thren darted past him into the house, slamming the door behind her. Lyrik’s near-sacrifice was noble, but fire could not be fought with flames. There were three people in the world Thren would run into a burning building for and she supposed she’d just done so for two of them.
The inferno was worst in the kitchen, which Thren couldn’t enter. Black smoke rolled from the doorway.
“Arelia!” Thren yelled, “Arelia!” There was no answer. How long had Arelia been in here? Five minutes? Ten? Was it even possible for her to still be alive? She had to be- Arelia couldn’t die. The youngest, loudest, happiest of their family, Arelia, who refused to eat anything but radishes for a full week because she’d hope they’d turn her purple.
“Arelia! Arelia!”
“Thren! Help me.” With the words came a fit of coughing from the other side of the living room. Thren felt a tainted relief at the sound.
A thought flashed through Thren’s mind. But she couldn’t do that. She hadn’t done that in years. Ever since-
The water beat down, not in a rain but in a flood, pulled down faster and faster until she was rising, rising from the ground, only water under her feet, her breath caught in her throat, she was surrounded by the living wave which she controlled, the power, the furious strength pulsing through her fragile bones, but, wait, no, no-
No. She couldn’t do that. It would cause more harm than good.
“Thren,” another fit of coughs, “Thren, I’m scared.” She realized with a drowning heart that she couldn’t reach Arelia. The old book shelf had fallen and become a fiery barrier across the width of the room. Arelia was trapped, and Thren had no way of saving her. Except-
She didn’t know where the water came from. She just knew that it was there, before the thought was fully formed. Steam mixed with smoke and the water began to drain out.
“Arelia, speak to me.” A groan. Then the air cleared enough and she could see her, crouched in the corner. She swept her up like a mother hawk snatches her chick and dragged the paper-thin seven- year- old out.
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140,811 Literary Works • 673,694 Reviews
moving between here and then is interesting, and there are alot of tantalizing little teases here and there throughout the story, like, why can't thren use her power? So there's clear potential for growth and stuff. I'd would like to see more lively writing though, and that will come with redrafts. I'm not really into the whole fantasy thing, mainly because the writer's are terrible. In fact, naming the chapter after the main character of it reminded me of game of thrones, which reminded me of how terrible a writer martin is. But, of course, the fantasy stuff is about the story, and you have some potential here, as i said. Just make sure that it doesn't unravel into another superpower driven snore fest, try something different, some originality.
But the main problem here is the writing, id say try present tense.
Right. Hello. I am Chuck and I will be doing a review for you today!
I loved your story.
It was full of excitement but there were somethings that I didn't quite get.
For starters here:
Here you have a lovely paragraph. It's full of detail but it's some what confusing. What is this power? Where did it come from? I think here you need to add some more detail.
Also just in general this is quite a short first chapter. Now I don't know if this going to be a novel or short story.
That is all I have for now. Keep up the great work!