[Other Original] Dreams of a Peasant [M]

Language, demented and dark imagery

"I…I will be king!"
I dream, every night. It's all the same dream. I'll be sitting high up in a castle made of gold, or riding on horseback with a steed who's mane is dark as the night sky. We move fast, or we idle forever. There are only ever two parts.

When we ride, my face is splattered with blood. My mace, vibrating in my hands and a man slouched lifeless over my lap. So violent, why I would ever take joy from a sight such as this I'd never know, but in my dreams I laugh loud, bold, and hysterical. A laugh that is the envy of hyenas, of any man or woman not of their right mind, of pillagers, murderers, and all scoundrels that I would have put away. That is the sound that leaves my throat after screaming out to all that will hear me, "I am your king!"

When I idle, things are dull and drab. The palace in which I would stay is dark grey, colorless, emotionless. And as I look into the mirror I see myself old, and very much with the same characteristics of my residence. Empty, devoid of anything that could be deemed interesting or fun. I am but a lonely old man, waiting every day for death to wrench it's bony hands into my chest and once more feel the warmth of blood on its bones.

I never sleep for long.

I wake every morning, after only a few hours of sleep, maybe two or three. The moon barely risen, the sun half-fallen. In these times of the night, when sleep will not have me and the outside world is already gone, I do nothing. I stare blankly at the ceiling, for who could ever imagine in their waking hours the things that I imagine when I dream. Thinking is pointless. I am empty, without any ambitions, and above all I am boring.

I lay there for hours, simply staring at the ceiling. At long last the morning dew starts to form on my cheek and the first rays of sunlight flush the floor of my room. It's empty, except for myself and my one rug, which I had found discarded, by some family too rich for their own good. The rug was perfectly fine, it was a dark blue with gold braided edges. The pattern which contrasted the dark blue was a bright yellow depiction of an eagle. The yellow was so bright that when I lay on it, I could almost feel it warming my body.

But today I had no time to lay and embrace my rug, I had to go find food, I had to survive if I truly wanted to dream dreams of being king. I knew I was a fool, but fools make the best kings. Our current king had been born in the same circumstances as I had. His family killed by the prior king, left alone in an alleyway somewhere, forced to struggle for his entire life just to survive. He was a king, and yet he was only 15 years old. If I wanted to be like him, I had to get a move on, I only had 5 more years until I was no longer worthy of bearing his title.

'A peasant's duties start early.' Is what my master says. But exactly how early do we orphans have to wake to survive? The dials outside read 30 minutes after the 6th hour, but everyone else in town still sleeps. Only we who have felt the pains of being orphaned roam the streets at this hour; us, and the drunks. Each orphan must always carry some sort of weapon on him lest he or she be taken into an alley by some drunkard.

None of us have ever dared spy on what happens in those dark passages, but anyone who's ever been caught has never been seen again. It always haunts me as I walk down the streets, I tend to walk alone. I hope that if anyone is to be captured, I can satisfy them before they can reach any of my friends. I…I guess I shouldn't really say friends. I haven't really ever talked to any of the other orphans. I haven't really talked to anyone…the thing is…I don't really know how to talk. I can understand everything that people say, but I've never been able to form my own words. I don't even know that I have a voice.

My wish is that one day I can meet some great wizard who will save me from my burden. Whether he ends my life or gives me the gift of speech, either way will be better than where I am now. I really should stop being so negative about everything, but I just can't help it. I've never found anything to be positive about. I've never had a family, I've never had friends, I've never had an education, I've never had anything. When I walk home from work at night I peer into the windows of people's houses and just watch them.

I see a father and a mother, a child or two. Sometimes one of the children might be getting in trouble and his or her father will pull out a belt and swat at their backs or bottoms. But then after all is said and done, the father looks at their child with such pain that I've never seen before. They embrace and cry onto each other while speaking sweet words that do not reach my ears. How I long for anything that might resemble that. The only embrace that I've ever had is the embrace of my rug. It holds of my wishes, all of my tears, my dreams, everything.

I daydreamed almost too much, I almost passed right past the kitchen. But I suppose I could never just pass by. Jorman is always waiting for me with his apron barely tied looking like it's about to fall off around his big gut. His black hair, what little he has of it, slicked back with the grease from all of the meats from the prior day. His big hairy arms that resemble that of a gorilla, and his ugly pig nose smashed between his two bulbous cheeks. He smiles at me with his mouth of gold and silver teeth.

"Looks like you're a little late today, eh runt?" He speaks down to me with one eyebrow raised over the other, giving him a very gross look if I do say so myself.
I try to make the words form, but nothing comes except for a few choked uhs. God, I sound like a dry heaving dog when I try to speak.
"Well, no use trying to do that, you're too useless for any human action. Better just get back into the kitchen where nobody has to sully their appetite with ye."

I head back into the kitchen, the only place I could ever really call home. If I were to just be able to move my rug here, I would never leave. I'd ask Jorman to let me keep the restaurant open all night and I'd cook and feed everyone. I'd never need to sleep again. As long as people were able to eat the food that I made and smile about it after, I wouldn't need to be king. Alas, it is just another dream. A dream too big for a orphan peasant like me.

"Ooooooooooorder up!" Jorman screams from behind the kitchen door. A large mechanical contraption sends a ticket flying from the front of the restaurant all the way back to me. Two legs of lamb, as fresh as you can get it, cooked rare. I always hate those kinds of people, Jorman tells them he's got a little orphan in the back making all the food and that I can do and get anything for them any way they want. So they order the hardest things, and Jorman makes me do all of the dirty work.

I walk to the knife block and pull from it a butcher's knife and a serrated knife. I take the cleaver to the grindstone and sharpen it to the point that as I touched it my finger split open. I stuck my thumb into my mouth and walked out to the barn that was behind the restaurant. I went to the pens which held our goats and lambs, pulling the newest born from among them. 'As fresh as possible.' Your wish is my command.

For some reason, today I was just feeling rebellious. I carried the newborn out of the barn and through the kitchen, exiting for the first time ever into the dining part of the restaurant. I saw them, two men, barbaric looking and much larger than Jorman. I walked over to their table and slammed the squealing animal onto their plates shattering them and sending shards everywhere impaling the animal and myself. And then I hacked away at one of its legs while it was still alive, it whined in agonizing pain, louder than anything I'd ever heard.

It took me two. Two slashes. Then in one strike I took off the other hind leg. The baby stopped making noise, it was simply sitting there staring at everyone with glazed eyes. Its mouth moving but no sound coming. I could sympathize. I took the serrated knife and gutted the poor creature before walking out the door.

Today, would be either the beginning of a new journey, or the end of my life.

There seem to be many confusing sentences in this chapter.

I'll be sitting high up in a castle made of gold, or riding on horseback with a steed who's mane is dark as the night sky. We move fast, or we idle forever. There are only ever two parts.

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I know you mean two parts to the dream, but the last subject you described was the horse's mane. It's generally better to put the subject as close to its description as possible.

At long last the morning dew starts to form on my cheek and the first rays of sunlight flush the floor of my room. It's empty, except for myself and my one rug, which I had found discarded, by some family too rich for their own good. The rug was perfectly fine, it was a dark blue with gold braided edges. The pattern which contrasted the dark blue was a bright yellow depiction of an eagle. The yellow was so bright that when I lay on it, I could almost feel it warming my body.

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When I first read the line about the dew, I thought, "Huh?" It's not clear to the reader whether that is a metaphor or whether dew is literally forming on his cheek. Doesn't he move in his sleep? Second, why is he having inner monologue describing a rug he's had for a long time? Do you mull over objects you've own for years when you wake up in the morning?

He was a king, and yet he was only 15 years old. If I wanted to be like him, I had to get a move on, I only had 5 more years until I was no longer worthy of bearing his title.

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Why would he not be worthy of being a king in five years? Is there an age limit? Can the kings only be young people in this kingdom?

A large mechanical contraption sends a ticket flying from the front of the restaurant all the way back to me. Two legs of lamb, as fresh as you can get it, cooked rare. I always hate those kinds of people, Jorman tells them he's got a little orphan in the back making all the food and that I can do and get anything for them any way they want. So they order the hardest things, and Jorman makes me do all of the dirty work.

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I know what you mean—your protagonist hates the kind of entitled people who order rare cuts of meat. But the problem is you have the protagonist think, "I hate those people" before you mention the orders. It makes it wound like you're calling the legs of lamb people.

I saw them, two men, barbaric looking and much larger than Jorman. I walked over to their table and slammed the squealing animal onto their plates shattering them and sending shards everywhere impaling the animal and myself. And then I hacked away at one of its legs while it was still alive, it whined in agonizing pain, louder than anything I'd ever heard.

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Why does the protagonist not have any reaction to being stabbed by giant pieces of glass?

Overall, I think this story would work better if it were from an over-the-shoulder perspective. That way you could get away with showing some of the main character's thoughts while describing things he wouldn't necessarily be thinking about.

Aside from all of that, there were a few typos as well. Remember that "it's" means "it is," and "who's" is short for "who is." Neither one is possessive. Oh, and numbers in the narrative should be spelled out. For example, "30 minutes" should be "thirty minutes." Only things like phone numbers or things written on signs can have a numerals in them, I think.

EDIT: Oops, said "words" when I meant "numbers." >_<

ShivaDF said:

There seem to be many confusing sentences in this chapter.


I know you mean two parts to the dream, but the last subject you described was the horse's mane. It's generally better to put the subject as close to its description as possible.


When I first read the line about the dew, I thought, "Huh?" It's not clear to the reader whether that is a metaphor or whether dew is literally forming on his cheek. Doesn't he move in his sleep? Second, why is he having inner monologue describing a rug he's had for a long time? Do you mull over objects you've own for years when you wake up in the morning?


Why would he not be worthy of being a king in five years? Is there an age limit? Can the kings only be young people in this kingdom?


I know what you mean—your protagonist hates the kind of entitled people who order rare cuts of meat. But the problem is you have the protagonist think, "I hate those people" before you mention the orders. It makes it wound like you're calling the legs of lamb people.



Why does the protagonist not have any reaction to being stabbed by giant pieces of glass?

Overall, I think this story would work better if it were from an over-the-shoulder perspective. That way you could get away with showing some of the main character's thoughts while describing things he wouldn't necessarily be thinking about.

Aside from all of that, there were a few typos as well. Remember that "it's" means "it is," and "who's" is short for "who is." Neither one is possessive. Oh, and words in the narrative should be spelled out. For example, "30 minutes" should be "thirty minutes." Only things like phone numbers or things written on signs can have a numerals in them, I think.

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I appreciate your feedback. He never wakes up due to the morning sun, he only sleeps for a couple of hours as the previous paragraphs state. So when the dew starts forming on his cheek his is laying on the ground staring at the ceiling doing nothing. And the reason he cares for the rug so much is because that is literally the only thing that he has of his own. Then you ask about the 5 years, and he's saying that if he can't become a king in that time then he will never be as great a king as the current one. About the order, the contraption sends back an order that tells him what they want, he thinks it, and then comments on the people who order such things. And I did overlook the whole ceramics stabbing thing. Thank you for reminding me about that.

The next chapter which should be out either today or tomorrow will make things more clear and will hopefully make it more interesting.

O'aka XXIII said:

The next chapter which should be out either today or tomorrow will make things more clear and will hopefully make it more interesting.

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Thanks for getting back to me so fast! I'll definitely try and review the next chapters of your story as they come out.

I left immediately from the restaurant, just realizing the pain which was in my arm. I pulled the shards of glass out, luckily they were only small pieces as the animal had taken the brunt of it. A slight stream of blood trickled from my forearm and left an inconstant trail behind me, drips here and there.

This was the first time I had ever been out in the streets during the day. Usually I would spend all of my time in that hellhole of a restaurant. It was beautiful. The blue sky above, the Sun rising up over the aqueducts, the glass panels of the church glistening in the distance. And then up on the hill stood the castle. So lonesome it was, standing up high with nothing around it. The trees, which had once given it shade had been cut. The king in his generosity had taken them all down and used them to give home to all orphans.

I walked down the streets, they were filled with townsfolk which I had never seen before. Everywhere I looked was a new face. The only people I had ever seen were my so called boss and then some of the orphans and the king who came to visit us door to door at times. My little house was so far away, away from all of these happy smiles and warm voices. Why must I be so detached from it all? Everything here is so peaceful and happy.

As I walked down the street daydreaming I hardly even noticed my vision grow blurry. I started staggering as I walked down the town streets. I bumped into people and I hardly even noticed, I heard distant yelling and also apologies. My eyes were growing so heavy. I couldn't feel my hands or the muscles in my legs as they moved. The last thing I smelled before everything went dark, was that of something burning.

--

I awoke wrapped in my rug but with nothing else. I was nude, but laying on a bed. There was no building, just a bed in the middle of a forest. I had never seen this forest before, I must be miles away from where I had passed out because in our town there were no trees for as far as your eyes could see.

"Won't you ever wake up?" Beckoned a voice whose origin I couldn't place.
"Who…who are you? Where are you? Where, am I?" I replied.
"Won't you ever wake up? You've been asleep for millennia my master." The voice sounded sweet, but I felt like it had some dark presence behind it.
"What do you mean? I'm only ten years old."
"Won't you ever wake up?" The voice sounded as if it was drifting away.
"Where am I! Don't leave me here! I don't know where I am!" I cried out as tears started streaming down my face.
"_{Won't you ever wake up?}"

The voice was now just a whisper on the wind. A light formed off in the distance. It rushed towards me, growing brighter, blindingly so. It rushed through the trees, not dodging them, but tearing them into mulch. Splinters flew in every direction and then were turned into nothing. The light nearly in my face now I could feel the heat radiating off of it.

And then I woke. There was a dog sitting there looking down at me. Its tongue hanging out, drool dripping from it. I saw in front of it my rug, still so beautiful and blue. A color so vivid I could never tell if I were actually awake or still dreaming. Everything in my life had been so drab, so how could anything so beautiful be real in a world of only blacks and grays? I batted my hand at the beast and struggled to grab for my rug but I felt so weak. I could hardly manage to raise my hand and instead of swatting the dog, my hand simply fell limply back to the ground a few inches from where it started.

The dog craned its head down to my hand, sniffing it. Then it picked up the rug in its mouth and dragged it over my body. Only now that I was no longer focused on my sole piece of property in this world could I see where I was. This was my home, but not truly. It had been burned to cinders, some of which were still glowing. I used all of my energy to wiggle myself onto my stomach.

And as I looked about my jaw dropped in disbelief and the tears threatened to fall from the corners of my eyes. The entire town had been decimated, all had been burned to the ground and its people crucified or ran through on spears sticking from the ground. The castle, which had once sat so tall and mighty, now lay as rubble. It's face still there, painted on with the most magnificent shade of red my eyes had ever seen was the crest of the royal family which stood before our present king.

After I had taken in all of that which surrounded me and had begun to cry my tears the dog howled. Its howl was so loud I felt as if my ears might start bleeding, but they did not. And after a few moments a whole pack of dogs had come in, and simultaneously they put their heads beneath me and lifted me onto their backs and started running to the borders of the town.

I could hardly cry bouncing on the backs of these beasts. I don't know that I could call them dogs the more that I looked at them. The longer I stared, the more feral they seemed to become. Their fur was matted with blood and their eyes were golden. Their paws had nails that seemed to be more like talons. I could see them ripping apart the ground as they leaped.

They were bent on taking me somewhere. I wish I would have gotten off right then and there.

This chapter was much better than the last one! In fact... pretty much everything was better! I have a much clearer sense of what this story is about.

I reread the last chapter, and I think one of the problems was that in starts with a lot of inner monologue. Starting with a scene where stuff is happening is always a good idea.

Honestly, the only real advice I have about this chapter is that the lines of dialogue should have paragraphs between them, like this:

"Won't you ever wake up?" Beckoned a voice whose origin I couldn't place.

"Who…who are you? Where are you? Where, am I?" I replied.

"Won't you ever wake up? You've been asleep for millennia my master." The voice sounded sweet, but I felt like it had some dark presence behind it.

"What do you mean? I'm only ten years old."

"Won't you ever wake up?" The voice sounded as if it was drifting away.

"Where am I! Don't leave me here! I don't know where I am!" I cried out as tears started streaming down my face.

"Won't you ever wake up?"

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Part 1: New Beginnings cont.

We rode on for what seemed like years, but the moon never rose, and the sun never shone. Even out in these plains there was a thick layer of darkness in the air and the scent of blood lingered on the air. As we rode we passed towns off in the distance, where funnels of smoke reached into the heavens. It felt like something rode across the plains with us as we passed those towns. That presence, was death and despair, I felt this evil for the first time as we were leaving my town. It grew stronger town after town that we passed.

Sometimes, as we would pass by the towns, we would see people who escaped. Their eyes were dark and lifeless, they moved slowly, some shaking, some walking tall. Some of them would mutter things to themselves, others were crying, none ever stopped and noticed us though. We rode past only slowing when one would act out of the ordinary. We went on like this forever. At least, it seemed like forever before we finally stopped.

We came to a town at last that had not yet been ravaged. There were no fires, no spears, no blood nor was there despair. But yet there were no people. The streets were barren, and doors were barred. This is where the beasts let me off. I had at last gained enough strength to walk on my own two feet and they did this little bow where they stretched out one front leg and buried the other beneath them as they looked to the ground. Then they took off in all directions.

I went from door to door, knocking, yelling, trying to find any sign of life. Nothing. No doors opened, no people whispered, this town was even more dead than those I had previously seen. I looked for any signs of food and at last had found a house which was not barred shut. I went in and to my surprise the house looked like it had been well kept. There was not even a single particle of dust on any of the furniture. Someone had just recently been here.

I searched around for any food. I found a drying rack that had slabs of meat hanging from it. There were chickens-half plucked and beheaded, slabs of ribs dangling from hooks, and the tough strips of muscle with the pelt of a cow still attached. Whoever had done this, had done it recently. Blood still dripped from the chicken. I might not be alone.

I saw on the ground next to me a small knife, a bronze blade with a black hilt. It looked like it had been used for a long time, the edge was dull and even with my pushing it against my thumb it did not cut. As I examined the crude blade I heard a shuffle of feat and then something shattering somewhere in the dwelling.

I took cover behind a wall, I could see around both sides of it. To the left of the wall was the entrance where I had come in, and to my right a long hallway with many paths leading off from it. I stood there, waiting. Sweat dripped down my dirt caked face, my breathing was heavy. I tried to slow my heartbeat so I could focus. This was too intense for me, why was all of this happening now?

Breathing. Not my own. Heavy and cold on the back of my neck. I hadn't even noticed it. A hand grabbed the wrist of the hand which held the knife I was carrying. Another hand grabbed the other wrist and I was lifted off of the ground and forced against the wall I had been watching around. Something slimy and wet wiped itself across the back of my neck, catching a bead of sweat that had just fallen from my hair.

"Don't you know it's impolite to just walk into other people's houses little boy?" The voice was like gravel. It pained my ears with every syllable he spoke.

"Well? Don't just sit there, answer me. Or, would you prefer something else?" He chuckled

He turned me around so that I faced him. His hair was black and long, it fell across his face and reached down past his shoulders. He had a slim figure, he seemed to be not much older than me. His nose was as sharp as a hawk's beak. His eyes as blue and cool as the ocean at midnight. His mouth twisted into an evil grin as he opened his mouth to far more than what should be humanly possible and he latched it around my throat. I felt all of his teeth pierce my skin at once and in the shock I kicked him in the groin.

I fell to the ground as the blood gushed from my neck and I screamed in pain and terror. The man fell beside me dropping the knife and groaning from the pain of my kick. I instantly grew furious at this man for having tried to eat me and I picked up the dull blade and shoved it into his back and neck repeatedly blood rushing out each time I ripped the blade from his body. With each thrust into him blood spilled out onto the ground where he stood.

I stabbed him at least 14 or maybe 15 times. His clothes were soaked, and the entire right sleeve of my shirt was warm and wet. As my anger passed sleep beckoned. I had only just woke up and yet she called me to her once more. I couldn't keep doing this. I had to get stronger. I looked down at the mangled corpse of the man who had attacked me, I felt sorry for him now that it was all over. I pulled off his shirt and tied it around my neck to stop my blood from continuing to spill out and then I helped myself to the meats which he had.

I started a fire using parts of the bed frame which was in the bedroom and one of the torches which he had hanging in the hallways. I started at plucking the rest of the chicken as the strips of meat and ribs cooked. I felt it must be around nighttime. The smoke which blanketed the sky earlier was still there, I had no way of telling what time it actually was. But I was joined my two mice as I ate my meal. Dirty bastards.

As I started to eat they crawled over to the dead man. One climbed up onto his head while the other explored each and every hole which I had made in him. It crawled in, and then came out wish a piece of flesh all covered in blood. Then it would sit and nibble its way through before crawling down into another hole. I had lost my appetite. I picked up my knife and stabbed it into the mouse that was sitting on the man's head and then after decapitating the first mouse I put its body over the hole that the other had gone down into. When the second mouse came back up and went into the body of its friend I stabbed down into and through the first and second mouse.

I put out the fire and crawled to the place of the house farthest away from the death which I had caused. I covered up with my rug, which was now no longer the blue I had loved so much, but more of a grotesque purple color as it had been tainted by that monster's blood. But it still held all of the warmth and I fell quickly to sleep.

It would seem, my dreams would no longer be of me being king.

I was also about to suggest that the dialogue should be spaced out more but Shiva already suggested it. I really enjoyed what you've written so far because some of themes here are the kind of things I like to read about. I think your protagonist is developping quite nicely so far.

Part 1 Conclusion

It was cold this time in my dream. The walls were gray; the room was dark and the air damp. I could hear a faint drop of water into a puddle in the distance; it seemed to echo forever. I could see no light, nothing to give any idea of where I was. I felt around myself, trying to see if I could find anything at all.

The ground was cement and covered in dirt and hay, it smelled of dried sweat, urine, and feces. I crawled around trying to measure my space. Small, maybe four of five feet in length and width. Three sides were cemented walls crawling with ivy, and the fourth wall had steel bars caging me in.

I was in a cell. Alone and cold. I started to cry but as I did the tears froze to my cheeks. The temperature started to drop and I could see my breath in front of me. Everything around me seemed to grow even darker. The air became heavier; my body was turning numb except for one spot. While everything grew colder around me my stomach grew warmer and became damp.

This was the only thing I could feel. Everything else seemed meaningless as the pain in my stomach grew and ripped me to my knees pulling from my body choked whines and pleas for mercy from whatever it was. Every time I moved, every time I breathed, and every time I made a noise the pain worsened. Everything grew darker, colder, it all started to fade away. My mind started to resign to the darkness. I could no longer think, I could no longer feel anything.

"Be brave my child."

A mysterious voice whispered to me.

"Come to me, the prison, the cells. Your king awaits you."

My body was rushed back to the place where this nightmare had begun and I saw sitting there in the corner of his very own cell, my king. He had a small grate leading to the outside in his cell, though it was covered in steel bars. The moons light shone down on his face in symmetrical lines brilliantly illuminating his velvet locks. His hair blocked his face, but I could see it was stained in dried blood and dirt, which was only stopped by the tears which had at one time fallen from his face.

He wore rags, ripped, and tainted by vomit and the common drunkard's odors. I could see him, he was within arms reach.

"My king!" I cried out, tears streaming down my face.

He looked at me apathetically. His eyes were golden, but behind them it seemed no one was home. He smiled weakly at me and cooed, "I am waiting for you my child. Free me, and your dreams of king shall be dreamt once more."

I could no longer restrain myself as I leapt towards his cage and shoved my arms through to him, begging for him to grab hold and come with me.

"You should know better than any. In dreams though anything is possible, you cannot saved the dammed from their fate."

"What do you mean my king?" I choked out the words trying to hold back my tears so as not to seem weak to my lord.

"You are the one who must take our revenge and lead our peoples. Only you are strong enough. I, I was a failure. I took my throne wrongfully and have paid gravely."

"Oh no my lord, please don't say that! You are the best king we could have ever hoped for. My dream is to become like you some day!"

"Then you dream for worthlessness and death. You dream a fool's dream; you must aspire to be more than a failure. Aspire to be not only a king, but a god! Reach further than your dreams can take you, reach further on than your will lets you! Overcome all obstacles, overcome all beings, overcome yourself and become the definition of history! Succeed, where all others and I have failed. Become the king of kings, the hero of all heroes, the legend to end all legends!"

A blinding light hid his face as he spoke these words. I was being pulled out of the dark and back into warm light. His words echoing through space and time.

"Go to the kingdom of the old king, look for the dragon's crest and take from me my power. I await you."

I awoke from my dream. The smoke and death that had been clouding the sky was no more. I walked back through the house, the man still lay where I ended him. I stepped carefully over him and started for the door when I heard something outside.

Loud neighs and whinnies accompanied the sounds of metal shuffling and clanging together. Laughter and women's screams ringed in my ears as I peered around the doorway. Knights from the kingdom of the old king, the ones who had killed all of the villagers and decimated their homes, they indulged in their loot. They drank and ate, wasting so much, spilling, spitting, and throwing food and drink everywhere. And amidst all of this merriment and madness which made my stomach boil, I saw a single face which I recognized.

Jorman stood amongst them. He was not a slave, he was not serving them, instead he wore their armor and brandished a captain's sword. That traitorous bastard, was he responsible for the capture of our king? Was he responsible for the burning of our village?

The hate which had been boiling up inside of me finally unleashed itself. I walked over to the man who I had killed and started ripping the flesh from his arm until I had reached the bare bone. I stripped all of the meat from it and then cracked the bone against one of the walls to break it into a sharp point and I rushed out the front of the house with my eyes set on Jorman. That bastard would be the first to die, and even if I met my end here I would be happy having ended his life.

There was a small opening in his armor between his breastplate and his leggings where his gut showed through. This is where I struck. I slammed the shattered end of the bone into his stomach and ripped it sideways, then pulling from his belt his sword and in a spinning motion sliced his head from his shoulders, sending it flying onto one of the tables where a group of soldiers sat. There was no more merrymaking now. A child had just taken down one of their ranked officers; they were not going to sit idly by.

Two of them that were already standing rushed at me and with the adrenaline still pumping through my veins I rushed at the one closest to me sliding past his blade as he swung for my face. I rolled up behind him and stabbed downward from the back of his knee into his foot, then pulling out my blade I spun around and slashed into his stomach. The sword stuck in halfway and I couldn't pull it from his body so I instead wielded his sword.

As I went to grab for his sword I was stabbed through my left hand by the other soldier's sword which I then grabbed onto and feeling even more furious and powerful I sliced off his hand at the wrist and then charged him putting the hilt of his sword on my chest and stabbing through his sternum and up into his heart. I pulled off of the blade feeling the pain intensify in my left hand, losing control of it completely. I was now surrounded by eight soldiers. I stood there panting; going blind as red and black started to cloud my vision.

I felt something cold and much too big for me come onto my head, blinding my vision even more. The sword was ripped from my hand and I was lifted into the air.

"Let us hear it for our newest recruit! This brave young man may as of yet be of some use to the kingdom of Traul as a military man. Have drink and eat to your heart's content in commemoration of his joining our ranks."

The words faded in and out as someone wrapped something around my left hand. I was let down and a chalice was stuffed into my right hand.

"Drink up my boy, restore your energy, we leave for the kingdom tomorrow."

I couldn't even register what the drink in my cup was, I drank from it and it tasted like nothing I had ever had before. It wasn't bad, but it also wasn't good. It had no real taste, or perhaps that was just because I was too exhausted to know. I passed out before I had time to enjoy my small victory over a few of these men, but I knew though I had won my battle, the war had inevitably been lost. I was ashamed, and I cried until I fell asleep later that night.

'Have I failed my king?' Those were my last thoughts as I sat alone, away from all of the other soldiers falling in and out of sleep.

It's been a while since I last dreamt of grandeur. I haven't thought of being a king, no thoughts of making merry or of actually talking to other people. I've been marching with this godforsaken army for nearly 3 years now; we pillage every town we come across, burning homes, stealing valuables, massacring the innocent. This is not any sane man's happy dream. When I grow old will these be the days I look back fondly on? Zipping through the forest chasing down the women of villages now pillaged, bringing them back to the older members of the army so they may...relieve themselves. This is not what I wanted.

I have long since lost my rug, burned to cinders in one of our first raids. My humanity lost, dignity stifled, I now bear the crest of Traul on my chest - a raven. Fitting I must say, it greatly represents the taste of these bastards' souls.

Lore has it that the first raven was actually a beautiful phoenix. It flew through the skies leading travelers to safety and protecting wildlife. But one day a man named Darle De LaCroix tricked the phoenix by wearing the pelt of a brown bear. He feigned injury and when the phoenix came down to shelter and heal him he stabbed into it with a golden dagger stealing away the light from it's feathers and turning it into a pile of soot. From that soot rose the first raven, swearing vengeance on all creatures, man and beast alike. Should a flock of ravens approach at the break of twilight you must not stop, for should you falter they will lead you into damnation.

I now bear the mark of this monstrosity as well. Branded into my skin and etched into my heart, my dreams are filled with the old fairy tale of The First Raven. Some nights I'm the phoenix and others I am myself, running from a flock or ravens. Their wings tainted with the blood of the wicked and as dark as the night sky they come at me as if they were death itself. Creeping, creeping, creeping and then enveloping me. I start to suffocate but am always awakened before I die. I know not what omen this marks, but I know it not to be good.

Regardless of what my dreams may or may not hold, this is the life I am stuck with now. I can't say it's all terribly bad; yes I do wish every day that someone would have the decency to run me through with a spear and display me to God like we do all the innocents. But being in this line of living has some perks. I get daily combat training, I'm fed better than I ever was before, I never go thirsty, there's always a fresh stream in which to bathe every two weeks or so and about a year ago I finally got the opportunity to rid myself of Jorman.

The grimy bastard was caught stealing extra food and when they searched his 'pack it was filled with food ranging back to as old as 4 months prior. They held a great debate whether to string him up by the neck and leave him at the entrance of the woods we were in at the time or to have him fight for his life. I raised my hand in a vote for the later and when all was said and done the fight was what was chosen. They asked for volunteers to speak up and with my inability to speak I rose my hand as high as I could and jumped as frantically as possible.

'If anyone is going to do the bastard in it'll be me. I've had to deal with the fucker for years and someone else is just going to leisurely stroll up and take his head? I think not.' As I was thinking this to myself an older looking man with three rings around his crest showing he was quite a high ranking officer. He tossed Jorman a shortsword and a small metal shield. Jorman readied himself for whatever may come, his gut poking out of the bottom of his breastplate even more after these past years of hoarding food and drink, fat peeked out from between the sheets of metal in his arms and I could only imagine the pain he must go through wearing the piece all day. Ahh the glorious torture. But oh no, it was going to end much too soon at this rate, he could barely even defend himself. I walked out to the middle of the circle that had formed around the two men and tugged at the knight's arm.

"What is it boy?" He asked with his voice muffled by the visor of his helm.

I motioned with my sword that I wanted to be the one to fight Jorman.

"Ah I see, bloodlust wasn't filled today then eh? I guess a growing boy needs experience. Try not to get yourself killed."

The man left the arena and I removed my armor. For an opponent and slow and lazy as Jorman the hindrance that armor is would be pointless. The men that formed the circle started beating on their shields and armor slowly getting louder and louder, faster and faster until finally I couldn't even hear the thoughts in my own head. Adrenaline took over as I rushed towards Jorman. He swung at me much too slow making himself look like a giant clumsy elephant, he looked around not able to find me and then I slashed at the fat which poked out from the bottom of his armor. He squealed just like I thought he would, this behemoth of a man sounded so like the lamb that I killed when I finally decided to leave his restaurant. But this time, I would show the beast no mercy. I meticulously slashed off little bits of fat from his body until finally his armor fit right but the metal was becoming rusted by his bloodloss.

He started looking as if he were tired, that wouldn't do at all I thought. I spun around to his back and with a quick flick of my wrist I removed his hand which held his sword. At this point the crowd of men were looking on in horror and silence as I slowly carved away at this man, whimpering as he was until he looked like just another slab of meat in a butcher's shop. I took his sword and removed his other hand then pierced through both of his thighs pinning leg to ankle. I removed his helmet with such force that it tore away at the flesh of his cheeks revealing the fatty pink meat beneath and with my bare fists I started beating away at him.

By the time the men had gotten around to pulling me off of Jorman there was nothing recognizable about him. His nose had been shattered, his eyes were swollen shut and his face in general was just a big unrecognizable bloody mess. We left the camp that night, the other men unwilling to stay there after the events that had transpired, I was forced to walk at the front of the brigade for they had a newly developed fear of the mute orphan boy.

But that too is a thing of the past. After a year all things lose meaning in this group. Why, just a few months ago Gwaine (another of the knights that I'm currently stuck traveling with) beat the record for most children slaughtered in a single town. But of course everyone started to forget it as the town grew further and further from us in distance. All things fade with time I suppose. All things that is, except for the dark forest of Lar LarWren.

Lar LarWren is a great forest that is said to have stood for nearly 7 thousand years. The trees tower so high that even from miles away you can no longer see the sky. There is another story about the woods or Lar LarWren, but I'm afraid that must wait for another time. For we are now at the doorstep of hell. And Hades has welcomed us with open arms.

"We're not really going in there are we?" Many of the men which had been picked up throughout the towns started murmuring to each other.

"You know about the rumors don't you?"

"Demons live in there!"

"If we go in d'ya think we'll ever come back out?"

"The hell should I know? I've never been there."

The older looking man with the three rings around his crest gave an audible sigh then turned to face us all.

"Listen up. I don't want to hear any of your moaning. This here forest ain't nothin' but a bunch of trees. They just look big and scary is all." He said as he walked up to the closest one and hit it with his clenched fist. Blood started pouring out and many of the men took in deep breaths and backed away.

"The curse." They whispered.

"Ain't no curse you twits. It's sap." He cupped his hand beneath the indent that he had made in the tree, catching some of the dark red goop. He lifted his hand to his mouth and tilted his head back. "Ahh. The sweetest thing I've ever tasted. This ain't no fairy tale kids. This here's just a forest."

As he spoke words of courage to the men the trees creaked and a cold gust of air blew past the brigade making the tree limbs appear to reach out towards the soldiers.

"Captain, I know you think that they're just rumors and fairy tales....but we're still scared. Nobody that's ever gone into those woods has ever came back out you know that."

"Really. Nobody that's ever gone in has ever come back out? How do you explain all those that were sent out to start this expedition across the plains? We all survived."

"Sir....no disrespect but, you told us you started with a three hundred men battalion, and all that's left is you."

"Ah you pansies. You, boy." He pointed towards me. "Yes, yes you. Come over here."

I walked over to him unsure of what was going on. He put his hand on my shoulder and removed his helm from his head. He was bald except for a small lock of gray hair curling where his bangs used to be. His mustache traced his upper lip and connected with his scruffy grey beard before coming down to a point. His eyes were a dark blue, without shine, filled with sadness and regret. I could almost see myself in their reflection as he sat the helmet on my head.

"You're going to go in first. You're feisty, if the men see a strong willed boy like you go in and come back out they'll have choice but to go in themselves. You'll do this for me won't you? When you come back I'll even promote you a rank."

He pushed at my back as he was saying all of these things until we were at the edge of the forest. With a final heave he pushed me into the forest and then jumped back as if to secure his own safety.

"What in the hell is that?" He looked up almost immediately after he jumped back.

High up in the branches of the tallest trees, ravens had started to perch. I had noticed one as the old man was pushing me into the woods but hadn't thought too much of it since it was only a single raven, but at a unnaturally rapid pace more and more started coming and perching themselves on the branches of the tress facing down at the brigade in front of them. And there stood the sole raven that I had seen on my way into the forest, it stood before me at the entrance to the forest that I had just came through.

It stared me down with its six beady red eyes and two beaks filled with razor sharp teeth. It opened it's beak to caw and at that moment the sun was blotted out. The world as I knew it was engulfed in darkness. The ravens had left their perch, and we were there at the center of their formation.

LordOfMinecraft said:

1. how is this pokèmon related? 2. I have read worse fan fictions. this should be a T at most.

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It's not pokemon related, that's why it has [Other Original] instead of [Pokemon]. And it's going to get much darker. This is only chapter 3 and I have right around 30 planned.

LordOfMinecraft said:

-_- Right now it's not dark at all.-_-

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I'd say that things reminiscent of what vlad the impaler would do to people can get pretty dark if you go into enough detail. Which is as dark as it's gotten so far.

If you have a problem with where I've put my original story you could always just ignore it and stick to the pokemon related things. I'd prefer though that if you were going to comment on my story you make your comments related to how I could better my writing.

Part 3 - The Woods cont.​

The raven was sitting there staring into my eyes as I stared into it's. It's head slowly started to twist until I heard the bones in its neck snap and it was completely upside down. It opened its mouth and darkness spilled from both of its beaks.

The body of the raven started moving, being stretched and pulsating. Sharp edges pressing out and snapping bones of it's rib cage and blood flowing from its eyes. Human fingers started wriggling from it's bottom beak. They came slowly, one... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... and ten. Ten fingers clasped the beak and started pulling it apart, thus ripping the bird in half in the process.

By the time the hands had finished removing the skin and feathers from the body, there sat a ball of muscles and tendons with fully formed regular sized human arms. Nails cleanly manicured and painted black as the raven's wing. The ball of flesh started pulsating as a small bump appeared on the top of it. The bump grew larger and larger until it was nearly the size of a pineapple.

I was mesmerized all the while not noticing that the prison of birds that had surrounded us were swooping down in waves at the men I had been traveling with all this time. Their screams and pleas for help falling on deaf ears. They were being ripped apart, the talons of the ravens were so sharp that even the steel of the men's armor was being scratched and at some times even ripped through.

In my daze I hardly even noticed two smaller bumps start to form on the pineapple sized bump. By the time I had noticed them they were already the size of grapes and at that moment a slit appeared across each of those grape sized bumps. The slit ripped open and blood poured onto the ground like a waterfall, revealing a set of beautiful grey-blue eyes. They were so beautiful that had it not been for all of the other factors at hand, this orphan boy might have fallen in love with them.

But alas the show did not end there. The ball of flesh started pulsing again, growing in size, as he had failed to notice before, and from the bottom of this bag of flesh two more bumps appeared. And over the course of a few more seconds they grew longer and longer until they resembled the legs of a human being. However not quite, as the muscles and tendons were still forming around the bones. The creature stood up on its still forming legs as its middle area where all of the other parts of its body had formed from started pulsing once more until it was almost the shape of a....Jorman.

A smile almost crossed my face as I thought of how ridiculous a shape this creature had taken, until I remembered once more what all had happened and was immediately put back into a state of fear and wonder. Even through all of this I was still mesmerized by the transformation that was taking place. And as I thought this, the ball of flesh that was now about the size of a small boulder started to burst at the seams. Darkness and blood trickled from the rips in the flesh and with a loud bang all of my senses were drowned in darkness.

I felt cold, and....empty....I couldn't feel, see, taste, hear or even smell anything. Everything was just the same state of suspended emptiness. But slowly color started to return to my vision and with it my other senses. And there stood before me the figure of a woman. A slender body, standing nearly 6 and a half feet tall. As I stared at this woman, a walking feminine muscular anatomy chart, I started to feel almost safe.

Call me crazy, but as the skin started to form around her face and bosom, I started to feel almost like....like this was my mother. If that was a feeling you could actually have, I was having it. I felt like this woman would take care of me, would love me, would never hurt me. And I just couldn't fight it, it was infectious. The skin finished forming over her body, leaving her completely nude and making me feel ashamed and awkward for seeing my mother in such a vulnerable state.

Her black hair, blowing in the slight wind that had started to pick up around us, the smell of the dead, of my comrades that lay on the ground behind her, was masked by the smell of flowers and honey as the color started to come back to the trees around me. How could such a thing be? Such beauty. I had heard the tales of what these woods were like back in the times of old, but I had never imagined they could be so majestic.

I turned my back, a foolish thing. I felt a cold hand on the nape of my neck, long fingers-much too long for any normal human-started to curl around my throat. The fingers which curled around my throat nearly connected with the thumb which she had placed on the back. She whispered into my ear, with a gravely voice and much too masculine for a woman.

"Why do you not look to my beauty? Why do you stare at the monsters in the dark when there's one much more beautiful here? Do you not love me?"

Her voice pained my ears, but yet I could feel my heart beating faster and my face blush.

"Speak your mind child, even without a voice I can still understand."

What? What could she mean by that?

"By that I mean, if you think it, I will know it."

I couldn't think straight. Could what she says be true? I suppose it didn't much matter whether she did or not. My mind had already betrayed me.

"I couldn't bear to look at you mother for your beauty is too dear to taint with a common man's eyes."

What? Why would I think that?

"Oh my child, worry not. Mother has already been tainted by your bastard of a father. He stole away the radiance I held so dear. And so now I'm forced to walk these shadows. Won't you come walk with your mother?"

Her voice was like honey in my ears, I tried to fight it. I really did try, but in the end it was really no use.

"Yes mother, I would love to go walk with you. We must go before uncle gets back."

"Yes, yes we must my child. With what little light I have left I shall guide our path."

By this point the ravens had already started to disperse. All of the men were dead except for me.

"Boy."

Boy?

"Boy, don't.... don't go with her. She's a demon. Please. Finish her, before it's too late."

I stopped walking and turned back towards the entrance of the forest. There, crawling towards us with his armor ripped to pieces, bone and sinew peeking through the bloody ripped up mess that was now his face. His left eye dangling, in danger of being smashed with each scoot closer to us that he got. It was the old man. He held out a golden dagger towards me.

"Please. It's the only thing that can kill her. Please before it's too late."

I turned my attention towards the woman who I kept calling mother.

"What should I do?" I thought.

She met my gaze smiled sweetly.

"Don't worry honey, I won't let him hurt you."

As she spoke these words her pupils grew larger until they covered the entirety of her eyes. Her body spun around as if it were on a swivel. She spun around until she had done a complete one-eighty. She cocked her head towards the man and her jaw dropped slowly to the ground as spiders, snakes and many other creatures of the dark legends crawled out from her gaping maw and started to devour the man.

She turned back towards me, jaw now back in its rightful place and pushed me along deeper into the forest. The trees lit up with each step we took, but I knew these were not going to be pleasant times. Nonetheless I followed her guidance,mindlessly wandering deeper and deeper into the woods.

After checking out your flash fic, decided to drop by and check your story out. Let's get started!

Prologue and Part One
You and ShivaDF already talked about some of the concerns in the prologue already, so I won't get into that. I will say though I agree the beginning felt a bit too much like monologue, which I can understand considering you're writing this in first person but it still dragged on for a bit.

Besides that, since the first chapter starts immediately after the prologue, I can't help but think it would be more appropriate to have the prologue be part of the first chapter as usually events in a prologue tend to happen before the first chapter. That's probably just me, though.

Okay, now the first chapter!

As I walked down the street daydreaming I hardly even noticed my vision grow blurry. I started staggering as I walked down the town streets. I bumped into people and I hardly even noticed, I heard distant yelling and also apologies.

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First thing I want to mention is it should be "grew" as you're writing in past tense (at least that's what google docs is suggesting as I'm writing this review).

Another thing I want to point out is you used "hardly even noticed" twice in the same paragraph. Unless I'm missing something, that phrasing got repetitive.

The light nearly in my face now I could feel the heat radiating off of it.

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This sentence I got a bit confused likely because it's more a passive sentence than an active one. Is the narrator trying to say he's feeling the heat from the light? If so, switching the wording around a bit would make the sentence sound more clearer, like this:

I could feel the heat radiating off from the light now nearly in my face.

The man fell beside me dropping the knife and groaning from the pain of my kick. I instantly grew furious at this man for having tried to eat me and I picked up the dull blade and shoved it into his back and neck repeatedly blood rushing out each time I ripped the blade from his body. With each thrust into him blood spilled out onto the ground where he stood.

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You have "man" twice within the same paragraph, which is somewhat repetitive. For the second "man", you can easily replace it with "him".

The last bolded part I also repetitive as you already mentioned the narrator stabbing his attacker repeatedly and then the blood in the next sentence. The "blood rushing..." part isn't needed, I don't think.

"Then you dream for worthlessness and death. You dream a fool's dream; you must aspire to be more than a failure. Aspire to be not only a king, but a god! Reach further than your dreams can take you, reach further on than your will lets you! Overcome all obstacles, overcome all beings, overcome yourself and become the definition of history! Succeed, where all others and I have failed. Become the king of kings, the hero of all heroes, the legend to end all legends!"

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Well, quite a bold statement there even in a dream, haha.

There was a small opening in his armor between his breastplate and his leggings where his gut showed through. This is where I struck. I slammed the shattered end of the bone into his stomach and ripped it sideways, then pulling from his belt his sword and in a spinning motion sliced his head from his shoulders, sending it flying onto one of the tables where a group of soldiers sat. There was no more merrymaking now. A child had just taken down one of their ranked officers; they were not going to sit idly by.

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I just remembered now you mentioned the narrator being ten earlier. Slicing a head is quite a feat. O.o I thought that was Jorman at first, but apparently I was wrong as I read further (more on that when I talk about Part Two).

Have to say, quite a lot happened to the narrator in the first chapter with him losing his home, killing his intruder, the dream with the king, and then being recruited by the military. Some of the violence did get a bit excessive, but I read other stories like A Song of Ice and Fire series that's just as violent so I wasn't too bothered by it. Also I already expected you'll go through this route after having read the short fic you did for the flash fic challenge.

In terms of grammar/mechanics and such, I did notice a couple instances of "it's" when it's supposed to be "its" (quite a tongue twister, huh? :P). Also some repetition here and there. Easiest way to edit those mistakes is to read your work aloud as you'll be able to pick those problems up better that way.

Part Two

Lore has it that the first raven was actually a beautiful phoenix. It flew through the skies leading travelers to safety and protecting wildlife. But one day a man named Darle De LaCroix tricked the phoenix by wearing the pelt of a brown bear. He feigned injury and when the phoenix came down to shelter and heal him he stabbed into it with a golden dagger stealing away the light from it's feathers and turning it into a pile of soot. From that soot rose the first raven, swearing vengeance on all creatures, man and beast alike. Should a flock of ravens approach at the break of twilight you must not stop, for should you falter they will lead you into damnation.

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I quite like this lore a lot.

"What is it boy?" He asked with his voice muffled by the visor of his helm.

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Usually after a dialogue and following up with phrases like "he said", "she called out", etc., pronouns like he and she don't get capitalized. So dialogues tend to be like this:

"I'm so tired," he said to me and sighed.

Only time pronouns gets capitalized is if you'll have a separate sentence/follow up with an action, like this:

"I know where it is!" She immediately rushed out of the room, only to come back seconds later with a blue object on her hand.

Hope this makes sense!

For an opponent and slow and lazy as Jorman the hindrance that armor is would be pointless.

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I think you meant "For an opponent as slow and lazy…"?

Lar LarWren is a great forest that is said to have stood for nearly 7 thousand years. The trees tower so high that even from miles away you can no longer see the sky. There is another story about the woods or Lar LarWren, but I'm afraid that must wait for another time. For we are now at the doorstep of hell. And Hades has welcomed us with open arms.

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Oh, hi there Lar LarWren. :P I do love the last two sentences there.

First bolded part: "seven thousand".

Second bolded part: "of".

I mentioned being confused Jorman was the victim in the end of Part One, but then this chapter basically sums up how the narrator killed him in a very brutal way. It does makes me wonder if that particular incident will come to haunt him back…

From your flash one shot and that phoenix lore, I do think one of your strengths is world-building. I'm getting more and more interested in this setting you have here.

Part Three (so far)

"Listen up. I don't want to hear any of your moaning. This here forest ain't nothin' but a bunch of trees. They just look big and scary is all." He said as he walked up to the closest one and hit it with his clenched fist. Blood started pouring out and many of the men took in deep breaths and backed away.

"The curse." They whispered.

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First bolded part:
"They just look big and scary is all," he said as he walked up to the closest one and hit it with his clenched fist..

Already mentioned about not capitalizing pronouns when followed up with "he said". Also the period needs to be replaced with a comma.

Second bolded part:
The curse," they whispered.

"Ain't no curse you twits. It's sap." He cupped his hand beneath the indent that he had made in the tree, catching some of the dark red goop.

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Here is an instance where it's okay to have the pronoun capitalized after a dialogue. You didn't follow up with "he said" or similar. For a lot of the dialogue you did this right.

The raven was sitting there staring into my eyes as I stared into it's.

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.

This sentence seems incomplete to me. Maybe if you add "...as I started into its own" then it makes more sense as I'll know the narrator is looking in the raven's eyes also.

Bolded part: its.

The body of the raven started moving, being stretched and pulsating. Sharp edges pressing out and snapping bones of it's rib cage and blood flowing from its eyes. Human fingers started wriggling fromit's bottom beak. They came slowly, one... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... and ten. Ten fingers clasped the beak and started pulling it apart, thus ripping the bird in half in the process.

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More instance of the bolded parts supposed to be its. Sorry for keep bringing this up, haha. Besides that, some pretty interesting transformation there.

In my daze I hardly even noticed two smaller bumps start to form on the pineapple sized bump. By the time I had noticed them they were already the size of grapes and at that moment a slit appeared across each of those grape sized bumps.

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I understand where you're getting at, but the mention of bumps four times within the same paragraph gets repetitive. Not sure yet how you can bypass that, though.

The creature stood up on its still forming legs as its middle area where all of the other parts of its body had formed from started pulsing once more until it was almost the shape of a....Jorman.

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That's a pleasant surprise. D:

I felt cold, and....empty....I couldn't feel, see, taste, hear or even smell anything. Everything was just the same state of suspended emptiness. But slowly color started to return to my vision and with it my other senses. And there stood before me the figure of a woman. A slender body, standing nearly 6 and a half feet tall. As I stared at this woman, a walking feminine muscular anatomy chart, I started to feel almost safe.

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I feel this description is really awkward. Usually saying, "he stood five feet tall" in a narrative sounds way too technical. Same thing with the phrase, "a walking feminine muscular anatomy chart", which is probably not needed as we're already aware a woman is in front of the narrator.

As she spoke these words her pupils grew larger until they covered the entirety of her eyes. Her body spun around as if it were on a swivel. She spun around until she had done a complete one-eighty. She cocked her head towards the man and her jaw dropped slowly to the ground as spiders, snakes and many other creatures of the dark legends crawled out from her gaping maw and started to devour the man.

She turned back towards me, jaw now back in its rightful place and pushed me along deeper into the forest. The trees lit up with each step we took, but I knew these were not going to be pleasant times. Nonetheless I followed her guidance,mindlessly wandering deeper and deeper into the woods.

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The lady made quite an appearance there. Also, I have a bad feeling about this…

All caught up now! Hm so far I'm not exactly warming up to the narrator just yet. The stuff he experienced so far is interesting, but I'm not feeling much character development from him nor see any consequences of his actions yet. I'm assuming though that might change once we get to see more scenes with him and the woman as I'm very curious how that will go, so I'll still return for the next few installments!

Bay Alexison said:

After checking out your flash fic, decided to drop by and check your story out. Let's get started!

Prologue and Part One
You and ShivaDF already talked about some of the concerns in the prologue already, so I won't get into that. I will say though I agree the beginning felt a bit too much like monologue, which I can understand considering you're writing this in first person but it still dragged on for a bit.

Besides that, since the first chapter starts immediately after the prologue, I can't help but think it would be more appropriate to have the prologue be part of the first chapter as usually events in a prologue tend to happen before the first chapter. That's probably just me, though.

Okay, now the first chapter!


First thing I want to mention is it should be "grew" as you're writing in past tense (at least that's what google docs is suggesting as I'm writing this review).

Another thing I want to point out is you used "hardly even noticed" twice in the same paragraph. Unless I'm missing something, that phrasing got repetitive.


This sentence I got a bit confused likely because it's more a passive sentence than an active one. Is the narrator trying to say he's feeling the heat from the light? If so, switching the wording around a bit would make the sentence sound more clearer, like this:

I could feel the heat radiating off from the light now nearly in my face.



You have "man" twice within the same paragraph, which is somewhat repetitive. For the second "man", you can easily replace it with "him".

The last bolded part I also repetitive as you already mentioned the narrator stabbing his attacker repeatedly and then the blood in the next sentence. The "blood rushing..." part isn't needed, I don't think.



Well, quite a bold statement there even in a dream, haha.



I just remembered now you mentioned the narrator being ten earlier. Slicing a head is quite a feat. O.o I thought that was Jorman at first, but apparently I was wrong as I read further (more on that when I talk about Part Two).

Have to say, quite a lot happened to the narrator in the first chapter with him losing his home, killing his intruder, the dream with the king, and then being recruited by the military. Some of the violence did get a bit excessive, but I read other stories like A Song of Ice and Fire series that's just as violent so I wasn't too bothered by it. Also I already expected you'll go through this route after having read the short fic you did for the flash fic challenge.

In terms of grammar/mechanics and such, I did notice a couple instances of "it's" when it's supposed to be "its" (quite a tongue twister, huh? :P). Also some repetition here and there. Easiest way to edit those mistakes is to read your work aloud as you'll be able to pick those problems up better that way.

Part Two



I quite like this lore a lot.


Usually after a dialogue and following up with phrases like "he said", "she called out", etc., pronouns like he and she don't get capitalized. So dialogues tend to be like this:

"I'm so tired," he said to me and sighed.

Only time pronouns gets capitalized is if you'll have a separate sentence/follow up with an action, like this:

"I know where it is!" She immediately rushed out of the room, only to come back seconds later with a blue object on her hand.

Hope this makes sense!



I think you meant "For an opponent as slow and lazy…"?


Oh, hi there Lar LarWren. :P I do love the last two sentences there.

First bolded part: "seven thousand".

Second bolded part: "of".

I mentioned being confused Jorman was the victim in the end of Part One, but then this chapter basically sums up how the narrator killed him in a very brutal way. It does makes me wonder if that particular incident will come to haunt him back…

From your flash one shot and that phoenix lore, I do think one of your strengths is world-building. I'm getting more and more interested in this setting you have here.

Part Three (so far)



First bolded part:
"They just look big and scary is all," he said as he walked up to the closest one and hit it with his clenched fist..

Already mentioned about not capitalizing pronouns when followed up with "he said". Also the period needs to be replaced with a comma.

Second bolded part:
The curse," they whispered.



Here is an instance where it's okay to have the pronoun capitalized after a dialogue. You didn't follow up with "he said" or similar. For a lot of the dialogue you did this right.

.

This sentence seems incomplete to me. Maybe if you add "...as I started into its own" then it makes more sense as I'll know the narrator is looking in the raven's eyes also.

Bolded part: its.



More instance of the bolded parts supposed to be its. Sorry for keep bringing this up, haha. Besides that, some pretty interesting transformation there.



I understand where you're getting at, but the mention of bumps four times within the same paragraph gets repetitive. Not sure yet how you can bypass that, though.



That's a pleasant surprise. D:



I feel this description is really awkward. Usually saying, "he stood five feet tall" in a narrative sounds way too technical. Same thing with the phrase, "a walking feminine muscular anatomy chart", which is probably not needed as we're already aware a woman is in front of the narrator.



The lady made quite an appearance there. Also, I have a bad feeling about this…

All caught up now! Hm so far I'm not exactly warming up to the narrator just yet. The stuff he experienced so far is interesting, but I'm not feeling much character development from him nor see any consequences of his actions yet. I'm assuming though that might change once we get to see more scenes with him and the woman as I'm very curious how that will go, so I'll still return for the next few installments!

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Thank you for the feedback! I admit I do forget some of the little things a lot such as the differences between it's and its.

For the first part I was having a really hard time trying to think of how to describe what she looked like. I was really at a loss for words and that was the only thing I could think of. Her body was completely without skin and there was no fat between her muscles or anything, so at the time the best thing to explain that as would be the textbook form of a woman's muscular system. It really didn't sound good as I wrote it, and it still doesn't sound good.

I think even taking one of the instances of my using "bumps" and changing them to lumps or welts would work.

And hopefully the character will start to develop as time goes on, I can't really say. I don't really plan my writing out. But once he gains the ability to talk.... ;)

Part 3 - The Woods Cont.​

"Come with me child and you shall see."

After a while the woman left me behind and drifted deeper and deeper into the wood. All the while she chanted these words. Her voice getting ever more distant with each step that I took. Before I knew it I was all alone. The trees turned and to watch me, yet remained planted in the ground. An owl hooed behind me. Slowly more sounds came. A rabbit ran across the path in front of me, a snake hissed at a squirrel as they both made their way up the same tree. The trees moaned lightly as the winds rustled their leaves. It was dark all around and I couldn't see a thing, but all the eyes of the forest were on me; I could feel it.

Before long I started to grow weary. The woman I had been referring to as mother had gone and with her the inexplicable surge of stamina her presence had put in me. My eyes strained and burned as I tried to find my way. My feet ached and my body chaffed. I just wanted to eat something and go to sleep, but to sleep or even stop for a short rest here would surely mean death. Though all seemed peaceful now, the crow mother had seemed on edge and in a hurry to leave this place. This wood must be much more fearsome than humanity had been led to believe if even gods feared it and traveled with haste.

I picked up the pace slightly and began to fantasize. My mind first went to the men I had been traveling with. Though they were gone now, their presence interested me more than ever.

What must death be like? I wondered.

I went about in my trance as I made my way through the woods, watching my feet as I went so as not to trip and break my concentration.

Did it hurt when they died? What sensations must have been going through their body? What were their final thoughts? Pain? Regret? I had never taken too much of an effort to get to know most of their personal lives. Did they have families? Would their wives and children mourn? Or might they stare out from their windows, forever waiting and denying that their loved one had actually passed on long ago?

I shook my head.

In the three years I'd been with the men I had never felt much pain. They trained me and made me into the best fighter that they could. They made battle fun. And most of all taught me not to be afraid. In their final moments, might they have abandoned the very principles of battle that they had tried to instill into me?

I continued on my path as my thoughts drifted. The moaning of the trees growing ever louder around me. I began to wonder what would happen should they come to life? Would I be able to protect myself as tired as I am? Could I even lift my sword high enough to catch one of their branches? Would the dented metal that I wear be strong enough to protect me from a single swipe of their great limbs?

Do they enjoy the act of killing those dumb enough to come through? Do they even have emotions? Might they be kind and do me in quick? Would they tear off my limbs? Crush me? Bury me deep in the ground? Or would they drag out my death and just swat at me with their thinnest branches and wait for me to bleed out? These thoughts made me shudder.

What comes after death? I never went to church. It just didn't seem like the kind of place I should be. The preachers that roamed the streets never stopped to talk to me, and I never stopped to listen in on their conversations with the others. Jorman never spoke much of religion either. On the rare occasion that a man of the religious type did come in to try and talk about such things Jorman would simply laugh and escort him to the door.

I never had many books either. No parents to tell me stories at night. No elder siblings to scare me with their stories. I was all alone and had always been all alone. I paused and looked up at the night sky. Might that be what comes after death? If I had always been alone with only my own voice in my head, then could this be...

"Oh no no my boy. You mustn't think like that."

I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn't even heard the man come up beside me. I jumped back and went to pull my sword from its sheathe.

"Now now, is that any way to treat an old man? Especially one as closely connected as we are?"

What did he mean? I had never seen this man before in my life.

"Don't worry my boy. The crow mother has already told me that you were coming. She left you to your own devices and made her exit. Really, such a troublesome girl that one. She was much easier to deal with back when her feathers still held the light. But I suppose it can't be helped. What's done is done. Besides, this wood isn't exactly the most welcoming place as of late."

He peeled a piece of bark off of one of the nearest trees and then rubbed it between his fingers until it crumbled. He sighed and then turned back towards me.

"Come. I have something to show you." The old man smiled and held out a long wooden stick. "Go on. Take it so that you don't get lost. I may be old, but I don't like dilly dalliers."

I cocked my head and then carefully reached for the stick.

"Well then. Off we go. The pond awaits your arrival."

As soon as I took the stick which had been extended to me we shot off like a catapult. We lifted off the ground and the man who I had just met began lunging from tree to tree while dragging me along. My right arm became dislocated but stayed clamped tightly around the stick. I reached up and grabbed onto it with my other arm and held on for dear life.

Don't let go. Don't let go, don't let go, don't let go.

The thought kept running through my mind as the forest around us began to come alive. The trees began to shake and shed off their bark as we passed, and the trees ahead began to split open. They pulled up their roots, and then with their branches they scraped and pulled at the cracks forming on their bodies. They started to rip open their trunks and then screamed at us as we passed with the hundreds of faces of those that were unfortunate enough to find their way here before. Blood poured out from the freshly opened wood, and with it the half rotting corpses of men, women and children that had not been fully absorbed yet into the trees began to slide out and come to life.

"Don't pay them any mind. They might look scary and they do deserve to be feared, but so long as you're with me you will be safe. Besides, we're almost to our destination." The old man pulled out a strange contraption from his chest. A glowing white light pulsed from it and illuminated the darkness that had started to envelop us. "There is still some magic left in this world. The largest concentration of which can be found here. Many of the weaker or more naive myths and legends have come here since the wood's turning to test their strength. As a result, most have become part of the trees. Their latent magical potential, as well as charms and other magical items were absorbed with them. The trees in this area have grown more intelligent over the past few years. They've finally figured out how to utilize the magic they have stolen from this world."

As he explained, I noticed that the creatures which had been following us begin to turn back. There were less trees in this area as well. After a few more seconds we began to slow, until finally we came to a complete stop.

"We're here." The old man turned and smiled at me before turning into ash and flying away on the breeze.

I took a step back and pulled my sword from its holster. What? Where did he go? What happened? My eyes darted from side to side, trying to find the culprit.

"Don't look quite so alarmed child." The old man's voice came from behind. His words were slower and much more drawn out. "I'm fine. That me that you saw was merely a mental projection sent to guide you here. This is a safe place. Please put away your weapon and come sit."

I turned to face the old man. He was several inches shorter and his back was hunched. He wore a long white coat which trailed a few feet behind him and covered most of his body. I put my weapon away and took in my surroundings.

I was standing at the edge of a large circular area that was full of color. Many different kinds of flowers were blooming and the sun shone through the branches of a single tree which rose far higher into the sky than any of the others in the forest. The bark of the tree was pure white, and the flowers which bloomed from its branches were all different colors of the rainbow.

Not far from the base of the tree was a small pond - just big enough for maybe two or three people to fit in at once. A soft colorless light which was being emitted from it drew me closer. I gazed into it and saw that the water was silver, and the only visible thing on its surface was my own reflection. I attempted to disrupt the water by splashing my hand around in it, but when I touched my hand to the surface a chill ran down my spine and I could have sworn that something touched back. Between the pond and the tree, in the very center of the clearing sat a small black table with two chairs. On the black table there were two small metallic drinking glasses and a plate of sliced bread.

I made my way over to the table and took the seat that was the furthest from me. I waited a few moments for the old man, but he remained out of sight. I picked up a piece of the bread and tore off a small chunk. It was surprisingly sweet. It looked to be a plain slice from a white loaf on the outside, but I tasted a mixture of many different berries and cinnamon as well as several other things I couldn't place. I'd never had anything as delicious as it before, and it took all of my strength to resist the urge to shove the entire plate of bread down my throat.

"I see you're fond of the bread." The old man's voice came from behind the tree. "Take as much as you like. I'm not the one that makes it anyways. And it's not like we're going to run out. You'd think after all this time someone might think to leave something other than just bread." He sighed. "I'll be over there in a minute, just eat your fill. We'll have a lot to go over, and I don't want you to be distracted because of an empty stomach."

I nodded graciously towards the tree. He surely couldn't see me, but it wasn't like I could speak to him or anything. I began picking up and stuffing piece after piece of bread into my mouth. Everything was so full of flavor and love. And as the man had said, with each piece that I ate another took its place. This was heaven. Tears began to fill up in my eyes and my eating slowed.

I didn't deserve any of this. Why was all of this happening to me? First the crow mother, then the forest and now this old guy with all you can eat bread. Good or bad, I didn't know why any of these things kept happening or why these people were so interested in me. I'm just a worthless orphan. The tears began to run down my face even harder. I went to swallow the mass of bread in my mouth and got choked up. I began to panic.

I done fucked up now.

I pounded on my chest and kept trying to swallow, hoping that it would just force itself down. Nothing was working. I picked up the small shot glass and frowned. Face turning blue and purple while getting soaked in tears and sweat - and this tiny shot glass didn't even have anything in it. I started to run over to the old man, but then what could he do? By the time I got over there and he realized what was happening I could already be dead. I ran over to the pond and leaned over the edge. I dunked my head into the water and started trying to drink in as much as possible.

The bread in my throat grew even larger once the water hit it. The color started to fade from my vision, followed by the feeling in my arms and legs. I fell into the pond and began to sink down to the bottom as the last bits of light began to fade, and with it my consciousness.

The first part I think is a good opportunity for the main character reflecting his thoughts concerning death and his travels with the soldiers, which I think you did fine. Only thing is I think the part he thinks about books and stories seems out of place with his other thoughts, even though stories is a very important aspects in the few shorts you posted for the flash fiction contest. Perhaps he can think about that when the lore of this story's world gets revealed more.

The thought kept running through my mind as the forest around us began to come alive. The trees began to shake and shed off their bark as we passed, and the trees ahead began to split open. They pulled up their roots, and then with their branches they scraped and pulled at the cracks forming on their bodies. They started to rip open their trunks and then screamed at us as we passed with the hundreds of faces of those that were unfortunate enough to find their way here before. Blood poured out from the freshly opened wood, and with it the half rotting corpses of men, women and children that had not been fully absorbed yet into the trees began to slide out and come to life.

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Love this description here.

I didn't deserve any of this. Why was all of this happening to me? First the crow mother, then the forest and now this old guy with all you can eat bread. Good or bad, I didn't know why any of these things kept happening or why these people were so interested in me. I'm just a worthless orphan. The tears began to run down my face even harder. I went to swallow the mass of bread in my mouth and got choked up. I began to panic.

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I do like how he's reflecting why he's been handed certain stuff very easily. The last few paragraphs also made me wonder what's going on now, lol.

Great to see you're working on this again! Looking forward to more!

Oh boy I'm on a roll. Let's see how long this lasts.



The smell of salt and sulfur filled my nostrils. The sound of waves crashing against an unknown shore echoed through my skull as I lightly bumped into the soft sands of the foreign beach. My eyes stayed plastered shut, but my senses of hearing and smell were incredibly heightened. What was this new world I had discovered and how had I gotten here?

I rolled myself over onto the sandy beach and then began crawling. I didn't know to where I moved, but I felt that anywhere was safer than at this water's edge. I tried to figure out where I was. My eyes wouldn't open, my hands and legs felt numb but my hearing and smell were better than ever before. I could smell fresh fruit, ripe for the picking. Some few feet away a crab scuttled towards the water. The sound of each grain of sand moving hit my ears so finely that it almost pained me to listen.

"My god that hurts like hell." I moaned out loudly.

Wait. Did I just… an actual voice? I just spoke? What in the hell was in that pond? And where in the hell am I? Did that pond somehow carry me all the way to this place? Preposterous. There's absolutely no way. That pond was stagnant, the water had surely been there for years. There was no flow, no suction, no anything that would have indicated that it had come from anywhere or was going anywhere. I scrambled to my feet and ran in the direction I had already been going. Surely there was something this way, there had to be something solid. Anything was better than sand or water. Something I could – Wham! I slammed into something hard and then fell back onto my ass.

"Who in the hell… wow I'm still not used to this. Uh, is anyone there?"

I rubbed my now presumably bruised head and attempted to look around me. But I forgot that I had no eyes. I began to rub them instead, hoping to move away whatever it was that had been gluing them shut all this time.

"Uh, okay. Something's not right. Where… where the hell are my eyes? Oh god. Oh god no please. Why."

I rubbed, poked and prodded at the place where my eyes should have been, but in their place was a completely flat surface. I began raking and scraping away at my skin, just hoping that if I dug deep enough eventually I would be able to see again. I scratched until my face and all of the sand around me had been drenched in my own blood. My nails were covered in chunks of skin and little bits of muscle, and the salty breeze of the ocean taunted my now bare flesh. I curled up into a ball on the warm sand and began to cry out in pain.

"It hurts. Oh god it hurts. What kind of sick twisted fucking psychopath's delight I don't even know what I'm saying it just fucking hurts so bad. Please make it stop. Please, please god just make the pain stop."

"Is that really what you want?"

Several voices came from in front of me, they spoke simultaneously but each expressed a different emotion in the tone of their voice. Both the emotions behind the voices and the colors they made were off. Separately they might have been bearable, but together they made the worst sound imaginable. An off-putting, stifling disharmony hung thick in the air. It grew to the point that it was shrowding, and then completely consumed all the other things I had noticed before. The birds no longer sang, the water no longer sloshed. All that was there with me in that time, was this eerie sense of dread and despair.

"I'll make a deal with you kid." The voices caused me to wince in pain. "I'll give you back your sight. But in return you must do a favor for me. It won't be today, but some day far into the future. It really won't even be that big of a deal. By the time it comes to pass you won't even think anything of it. It'll be almost natural. Whaddya say kiddo? Care to take a dare? I promise you'll be stronger for it in the end of all this."

"Whatever. Yes I accept your shitty deal now please just give me my eyes so I can see things properly."

"Well hold on there. I never said you'd be able to see things properly, but you will be able to see. See, these aren't really your eyes. But they will allow you to scratch the surface of this vast ocean of knowledge you have before you. And judging by my clock, I'd say you have about mmmmm two or so hours here before that old man finally gets around to pulling you back out of the pond. So, you still want to go through with it?"

"Yes, yes. I don't care about the terms or whatever I just need to see like, right now."

"Okay, okay. No need to get testy. Just give me a moment. I'll need to look through my trunk to see if I have your size. You might have to settle for something a little bit smaller... no wait I think I should have it. Hold on, I promise this will only take a minute."

I began to get impatient with the several voiced man. I tapped my foot impatiently on the sand, a habit I had learned from Jorman unfortunately. He never liked to be kept waiting, and I guess I kinda picked up that habit too. I went to put my hand on my forehead so as to shake at the man who was taking his sweet time fiddling around in a trunk. But I remembered about the whole I basically ripped the skin off of my face thing because I don't have any fucking eyes. Which of course only made me more angry that it was taking the man so long to find the eyes he was supposed to give me. When he finally returned I felt like I had finally won something. The Seven really played me for a fool.

"Well, here you go kid." He tossed something over to me which landed in the sand at my feet. "Use it wisely. See ya around."

I kneeld down and picked up whatever it was that the man had tossed to me. I held it up to my eyes thinking that it was actually what I had asked for. But instead I felt something cold clamp around my face. Metal hands latched into the back of my skull and peeled away what was left of the skin away from my face. I screamed out in terror as the object then drilled holes into my skull in the place where my eyes might have been, and then finally it rested frimly on my face. It enveloped my entire skull, leaving only seven holes. There were holes that shone in to the void that was my eye sockets, holes so that I could breathe through my nose, a hole for my mouth and a hole for each of my ears.

The chill of the metal on my flesh sent sharp stabbing pains down my spine. After a few more seconds of agonizing pain, a couple of lights flickered on. A transparent black, and a transparent white glass covered the sockets which would have housed my eyes if I had them here in wherever this was. I looked around me with my new found sight. Everything was glowing with a soft mult-colored light. Rocks twinkled like diamonds, the birds glowed like tiny flying stars. The fruits which hung from the trees glistened in the afternoon light and begged to be consumed.

I reached my hand out to grab one off of its perch. It was shaped as a star. It had five parts, and each part held a different color. The parts adjacent to each other were opposties; red sat across from blue, green across from yellow, and then white sat all on its lonesome. I peeled off the white part from the fruit and hundreds of maggots spilled out onto my hand.

"Augh!" I threw the fruit onto the ground. It shattered on the impact and sent thousands more of the disgusting grubs all over the ground. They squirmed for a moment, and then all life left them.

"Beauty is only skin deep. That is a universal constant regardless of where or when you are."

My head spun on a swivel. This was a new voice. It was kinder, gentler however somewhat more monotonous.

"Who... where are you even? What do you want with me?" I spun on my heels, my new eyes darted every which direction. New sights burned themselves into my mind and with each new vision the scenery changed. Trees and fruits disappeared, and in their wakes appeared boats and swords.

"Me?" The voice returned once the scenery had finished its transformation. "I am simply your teacher for the day. I have no wants nor do I have any desires. I am yours to command once my duty is done, however time is limited so we must hurry. There are still many things left to cover and a very short time to cover them."