My first fantasy novel (prologue)

[Aeropro]

Hey guys! I have recently gone through a heart-breakingly sudden break-up and have decided to divert my attention to something I can control - myself and my goals. I am writing a novel/working on a project that I has been in production for nearly a year and a half now. I had since paused my working on it due to stress with my relationship/work, but have recently found the motivation to start again! If you're a fan of Stephen King/Tim Burton then my story will be right up your alley (think Sleepy Hollow)! Please give me your honest feedback! Thanks, guys! =)

 

Prologue

 

The echoing ring of silence came to an end, suddenly, as the horses began clacking their hooves with heightened determination. The whispering darkness became increasingly overwhelming as the moonlight, while ever persistent, struggled to penetrate the impossibly thick fog. The animals of the forest; the bats and doves, squirrels and muskrats, deer and moose, scurried away in fear as the men yelled to one another for guidance. Paths became bends, forks became paths, and bends became dead ends. The unusual, eerie atmosphere began eating away at the men’s confidence like termites feeding on a hollowed log. “Shouldn’t we hear them? Shouldn’t they hear us?” whispered one of the men, a once brave man now turned coward. As they attempted to navigate through the haunting, spiraling maze of trees and brush, a slight beacon of hope could be heard, faintly, through the sound of the stream’s rushing current. North; they were heading north. A small opening through the trees allowed the men to pass through, in pairs of two, into the curved streambed. There was a brief moment where the moonlight finally burst through, revealing the blackened substance that had polluted the river. The leader of the battalion, a tall, portly man named William, was the first to notice the bodies; “Who could do such a thing? We’ll have the head of the bastard who did this! Don’t let the horses drink! We’ll have to give them some of our own!” he exclaimed. The plagued water splashing against the jagged, aged rocks, nonetheless, created a beautifully calming melody as the horses leaped from stone to stone, trying to retain their rapidly fleeing stamina.

 

The river, serving as a faithful guide, continued to lead the men northward, the reflection of the night sky dancing on its surface, illuminating what was once dark in the forest. The trees held a frightened appearance as if they, too, were trying to flee from the escalating madness that was taking place in the Western Woods. “There! Do you see them? Do you see them over there?!” William rhetorically questioned. The watchmen began to grow sickeningly aware of their situation as more and more yellowed glares revealed themselves through the blackened nothing that awaited them on the horizon. Their thumping hearts could be heard as the eyes, each holding a stare of hopelessness, grew larger and larger as the horses fearlessly stormed on. A brief perforation in the woods divided the battalion into two groups as they began scaling muddy slope after muddy slope, the mares desperately struggling to keep their footing as if their legs were wobbling stilts. Time seemed to crawl as the two squadrons finally reached the top of the incline; rest at last. Though the marsh proved to be a difficult climb, few men fell, and those who did were able to remount with esteemed pace, as if the ground was built upon springs. The brief pause in their campaign allowed the horses to quench their thirsts, a reward that was long over-due. The men, too, were rewarded, with a brief sense of relaxation, as they admired what used to be a beautiful landscape. It was not an appropriate time to reflect on their surroundings, however, as time was of the essence. They had to save as many of them as possible.

 

The wind, once violently unpredictable, stood expectedly still, its roar shrinking to nothing more than a puppy’s growl, as they raced into the northern farmlands. The farms were vacant, their once green and golden crops being reduced to nothing more than grayed, ruined waste. The stench of death grew stronger as swarms upon swarms of flies began hovering above the rotten vegetation, feeding on their last ounces of existence as if to cruelly parallel what was occurring to the people of the forest. The only sign of life stood ragged through the fog in the form of a withered log-cabin. A dull glow swayed softly in the air, a lamp, in front of the structure, although its flame was stumbling for stability in the cool breeze. Its dancing, faded, light revealed a series of locks which secured the small cabin from intruders, ironic given there was no one left who would intrude. A quick shake was all it took to pry the door open as a cloud of old dust filled the doorway. Years of carelessness and neglect could vaguely be seen on the walls, through the thick dust, as the first few men made their first steps inside. However, before they could fully enter, a sudden cry of terror from the southeast halted their push forward.

 

The signal came from the youngest of the group, a new recruit named Thomas, who had the misfortune of riding the battalion’s plumpest and slowest steed. His echoing cry was as true as the steel on his spurs when his eyes met one of theirs through the naked autumn trees; “NO! Why on earth is this happening?! What is wrong with her?!” he continued to cry. His fear stemmed not from his inexperience, but from an utter sense of disbelief as the thin, gloomy figure inched closer to him. The young girl, standing no taller than three feet, innocently smiled at him as her dull blonde hair fell over her white, colorless face. Her eyes had a lovely shape, though what color remained had been overwhelmed by a pale, gray yellowing hew, reminiscent of a crescent moon hiding behind storm clouds. Thomas could begin to feel the hairs on his spine standing on end as he struggled to make the right choice. His first instinct was to pick the girl up in his arms and rush her safely home back to her mother, while his second instinct was to reach for his rifle. “What is wrong with her? What in God’s name is happening?!” Thomas thought, his mind overwhelmed with emotion. A sudden ruffling of leaves was all it took to influence his decision. In a flash of instinct and uncertainty, the young girl was knocked into the air and, falling ever so delicately like a feather from the sky, into the cold, blackened river. Blood and adrenaline began to fill Thomas’ heart as he began realizing what he had done. His cry of regret filled the air, “Oh, no! What have I done?! Someone, please help! She is going to die!” The young recruit was faced with yet another fateful choice; to stand and do nothing, or plunge into the plagued water to save the child’s slowly fading life.

 

Before he could decide the fate of the girl, a seasoned patrol named Edward came rushing to his aid, carrying a musket the size of an ore and riding on a glowing white stallion. His horse, named Marshmallow, danced through the thicket in a hypnotizing display of perfected acrobatics, its brilliantly white color emitting more light than even the stars themselves. A sense of urgency filled Edward as Marshmallow leaped logs, ducked under low-hanging branches, and tore through shrubs and bushes that tried to swallow the courageous duo.

 

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I have about twenty pages thus far, but I haven't edited through the rest quite yet!

[FuryLost]

*I'm not a published writer, just someone who enjoys CW immensely so please don't take my criticism to heart.*

 

Whoa, this one fell between the cracks on ENA. Can't believe no one commented on it for 4 months!

 

Firstly and most importantly the prose is wonderfully written throughout the entire section.

 

Though it is a bit wordy sometimes. Every sentence is a bit too descriptive, though I understand sometimes necessary for the setting ("The trees held a frightened appearance..."). But some of the sentences are very close to being construed as run-ons ("The river, serving as a faithful guide, continued to lead the men..."). You could chop that sentence into two and still keep that incredible atmosphere, in my opinion.

 

But, again, it is written with an very good control of imagery and descriptions. It just gets lost sometimes in the imagery. So this troupe of horsemen are trapped in this dark, hellish forest, right? End up stumbling upon a curious, yet chilling girl and one of the horseman panics and ends up shooting her. She goes flying into a wild river and Edward and Marshmallow leaps into save her? Right off the bat I like the suspense and mystery. Can't quite tell if that girl is really a witch in the disguise of a girl or simply an innocent girl victimized by a man turned "lame" (to use a horse term).

 

And finally, is it historical fiction or just a pure fantasy yarn?

 

P.S.: You wouldn't be a poet, would you? I read this book a while back written by a poet-turned-author who had a highly-specialized control over prose. I mean, he wrote the entire book as if it were a poem. It was of a highly similar vein as this story (post-colonial times, monster inhabiting the woods, incredible prose) so much I'm wondering if you're actually him! I've forgotten the author and that work, though....just seems like a poet is skilled enough to keep the same level of description throughout the story.

[Willywagtail]

I have read heaps of scifi and fantasy over the years. And I've studied literature and poetry. So I'm happy to provide an 'amateur review'.

 

I like the overall introduction and the way it's leading into the full novel. However, the prose is over complicated and gets in the way of what you're trying to say. It's too dense, and some of your metaphors are incorrect. e.g. A beacon cannot be heard - it's a light, so the metaphor is confusing. Also, the plagued water creating a calming melody just doesn't work either. Again, wind which shrieks and then becomes a puppy growl doesn't work. Maybe from a shriek it could become a quiet moan - so that you're sticking to a similar metaphor.

 

Some of your sentences could be shortened, and words such as 'has' and 'was' deleted. e.g. There was a brief moment where the moonlight finally burst through, revealing the blackened substance that had polluted the river.. If you delete the the word 'had', it becomes less clumsy.

 

Again, in terms of using a different part of speech, perhaps the eyes, each holding a stare of hopelessness, could become 'the eyes, each staring hopelessly'. See how it reads better?

 

I think some details could also be omitted, as it would make it more succinct and dramatic - if that is the feeling you're trying to evoke. e.g the man who was once brave and turned coward, and the recruit that rides the plumpest and slowest stated. I don't think these details add in any way to the overall tension you're trying to create in this prologue.

 

The introduction of the horses colour is great, and it finishes off the prologue well. However, the bit about Marshmallows acrobatic dance doesn't add anything to the plot.

 

I hope this helps!!

[numbnut]

I agree with FuryLost. Its a bit wordy and at times doesn't link in. Another thing that i picked up on is that your use of commas isn't helping your flow,for example

 

you wrote

 

A dull glow swayed softly in the air, a lamp, in front of the structure, although its flame was stumbling for stability in the cool breeze.

 

It would read better like this

 

A dull glow swayed softly in the air, a lamp in front of the structure. Its flame was stumbling for stability in the cool breeze. Although 'stummblig for stability' doesn't really go. You're trying to be too descriptive as mentioned above.

 

Have a read of the following extract from my current project. Its a fantasy novel. This bit hasn't been copy edited as yet but you'll get the gist. Let me know whay you think. Look at the use of punctuation and the way it helps the flow.

 

Once Sable and his party has settled into their sumptuous suite the evening before, and the embarrassment of their ‘entry to the Council’ had died enough for normal routine to establish itself Sable called his escort commander to him in his lounge. The Commander was a stocky, broad shouldered man. A foot shorter than Sable but obviously much stronger and battle toughened. In his full armour he looked like a shinny doughnut with a tiny head protruding from the middle. He was called Gansper. Sable had noticed him at first when there was a raucous fight amongst the then undisciplined guard, he had sorted out twenty fighting soldiers single handed, each of the fighters eventually showing him due respect. Sable had promoted him on the spot. Since then he had been promoted twice more and was now Sable’s most trusted soldier, hence the post as head of the escort.

‘Is all in order as previously discussed?’ enquired Sable without even looking up at the guard.

‘Sire all is done as you asked. I have personally checked the detail. My men are now searching for listening posts, cavities in the walls and any hidden spy holes. We should have that completed in less than an hour’. Gansper replied in report fashion. There was no friendship between them. Sable recognised the ability of the Guard. Gansper was a soldier who did as ordered without question, this, Sable admired and would exploit to the full.

‘Good. Now please ask the Abbott and Lord Pasi to come to me and have our special friend wait outside my door.’ Sable looked up with wide eyes, menacing, this would have disturbed any one else, but not Gansper he was not afraid of Sable. ‘We are not to be disturbed without question, even if the place is falling down’.

‘Very good Sire’ Gansper snapped a salute at King Sable and left the room smartly.

 

Whilst awaiting the arrival of his guests Sable called for warmed wine and a few snacks to eat for four. The house servant hurried off with the request. Contemplating his next move Sable smiled to himself and the thought of soon having the Empire to himself and rule how he chose. No more with the wishy-washy diplomacy waste of time. Expand and conquer, dominate and force opponents in to submission. Eric and especially that scholar Bjarki have a lot to learn about being a ruler he thought. Sable was brought back to reality by a sharp wrap of knuckles on the closed door.

‘Come’ snorted Sable. For some reason his mood had dropped in the last couple of minutes, probably because his father Berengar had not bequeathed him the empire, but he had to share it with his brothers, the thought still chilled him.

The door opened and in sauntered the Abbott still in his travelling clothes albeit cleaner in appearance than usual. The Abbott bowed and made his way over to some cushions sited next to Sable. Pasi, now changed into something lighter, more refined than his travelling clothes, followed the Abbott and sat opposite the King. Both bowed in unison and sat back waiting for Sable to begin.

 

Sable sat in contemplation for a few minutes, his reverie only broken by the serving of the beverages and snacks he ordered. At last he spoke to Pasi, ‘Stupid move of you earlier Lord Pasi. I am most distressed that you have been discovered so soon in our visit here. Please ensure that you will follow orders from now on and too the letter’. Sable finished and took a sip from his warmed wine. It was indeed of fine quality but his appreciation would have to wait a while.

‘Sire’, started Pasi in a servile tone, ‘I was not aware that there would be a, lets say trap, for now at the entrance of the city, otherwise I would have made other arrangements to get our equipment within our quarters here. I can only apologise’. Pasi concluded with a low bow.

‘Only apologise. That’s it Pasi. Are you sure? Only apologise’, Sable was getting angrier by the second, his face turning scarlet, his voice booming now. ‘I would suggest that you get a grip of yourself and start to be of use to me here, because if you can’t then I’m not going to offer any excuses to the council pertaining to your presence’.

‘Thank you my lord’ again Pasi bowed low, this time wishing every curse upon the man in front of him. Pasi rose back to his sitting position and looked directly at Sable.

‘It will not happen again. You have my word Sire’. The former King offered a passive smile as false as the loyalty he now exhibited.

 

During the exchange the Abbott sat statue like trying to avoid getting caught in the middle of his two superiors, and end up being the scapegoat. Just the thought of what either of them could do to him made him overtly shudder. Sable noticed the involuntary motion and turned on the cleric.

‘Do you have a problem Abbott? for if you do I’d like to hear of it’.

‘No problem your highness, I am just a bit cold, that’s all’ the Abbott bowed slightly. Sable snorted and returned to his thoughts.

 

No one moved a muscle; the other two apart from Sable did not wish to antagonise the King of Elamuna further save for their skin. However, about five minutes later, which seemed and entirety to the others, Sable smiled, firstly at the Abbott, and then at Pasi.

‘Abbott, I would like you to come to the main chamber with me in the morning. Join me at the negotiations and debate, you are a learned man these things should interest you. Also you’ll be able to report back to your Raleem Bishop with first hand information as he has instructed you, will you not?’ The last part was, as cutting as it was meant to be, for Sable ‘The Black’ knew that he would never be able to rule over the Raleem. They were a law unto themselves and had been for centuries no matter who ruled or tried to force them to submission. This really Irked Sable.

 

The Abbott cringed under the gaze of the King; however Sable just smiled at the obedient nod from the fat cleric. Sable then turned to Pasi and also smiled at him too. ‘Pasi please forgive my outburst, it was unfair as I too would have done the same had I been in your unfortunate position’. Sable really emphasised the sarcasm, but followed it with a bow and another smile. Pasi followed suit and remained silent, covertly seething, plotting revenge that perhaps one day would be his.

‘I have a special duty for you to do my Lord Pasi’, this time no sarcasm. ‘As you both know I have need to get all of the gem sets in my possession. I know for a fact that King Bjarki always has his gems nearby, where ever he goes. It is therefore necessary that they happen to fall into my ownership as soon as possible and before the end of this Council session. Again you both know that I have had a copy of the gems made. I have brought them with me and thanks to you Lord Pasi. Your diversion at the City entrance prevented them from being discovered and for that I thank you’. Sable looked at the Abbott then back to Pasi and bowed low to both men. Then he continued ‘Lord Pasi I know how much you want to go to the Council meet, but for now lets put that on the side lines. I have a much more important task for you which may lead a speedier reclamation of your former lands’. Again this notion was just bait for compliance from Pasi.

Pasi could not believe his ears. He would do almost anything to get Elamuna back. It was his by inheritance from his father, and his right too. The Abbott again openly shuddered at the thought of Pasi being ruler again over his former kingdom.

‘Still cold Abbott?’ asked Sable, really knowing the reason for the shudder. He chose to ignore it further. ‘Pasi I need you to manage a disturbance for me whilst I am in Chambers in the morning, one that will get me the gems that I need, and replace them with the false set’. Sable smiled and continued. His face now stern, looking Pasi straight in the eyes ‘do not let me down. You would not like the consequence my Lord’. Sable ‘The Black’ bowed; this time respectfully as he imagined that failure would be the only outcome.

 

The three continued to chat for a while, the threat made to Pasi temporarily forgotten and the fact that the Abbott had to attend council pushed to the back of conversation. Wine flowed and the evening drew darker outside. Sable then announced that he had someone he would like the others to meet, now. Sable clapped his hands; the lounge door opened and in walked a female form. She was bedecked from head to toe with a black sheet. Only the eyes were visible through cutouts in the cloth. Her gait was feminine and seductive, she almost glided accross the room and stood next to Sable where she stopped and knelt next to the King, without a word she offered him a hand, which he took and tenderly kissed before it was withdrawn back under cover. Sable smiled, ‘Gentlemen this is our secret agent who will remain unknown to you both’, and Sable was in his element teasing the two hypocrites that served him. ‘Please remember the details that I will now impart to you both. I will say them only once and they must be obeyed to the letter for the plan to work. Failure is not an option’, he said specifically looking at Pasi. ‘We have but one chance and that is tomorrow morning. Now listen carefully’. Sable went over the plan in the smallest detail. He questioned those present in the room to gather their understanding of what was to happen. By the small hours everyone knew what was to be done, by whom and when. Then they all retired for the rest of the night, the female followed Sable to his bedchamber and didn’t leave until dawn.

 

 

I'm sure you get the idea. Good luck with your novel and let us know how its going.

[FuryLost]

Eh, to be fair numbnut you do have a runaway with those commas.

 

"Her gait was feminine and seductive, she almost glided accross the room and stood next to Sable where she stopped and knelt next to the King, without a word she offered him a hand, which he took and tenderly kissed before it was withdrawn back under cover."

 

 

[numbnut]

FuryLost. I absolutally agree with you. This novel is aimed at 12-16 year olds. To assist that I target the correct reading levels and keep on target I use a monitoring system called Flesh Kinaid. Here is the discription for its use

 

'The measure of readability used here is the indication of number of years of education that a person needs to be able to understand the text easily on the first reading. Comprehension tests and skills training.

This tool is made primarily for English texts but might work also for some other languages. In general, these tests penalize writers for polysyllabic words and long, complex sentences. Your writing will score better when you: use simpler diction, write short sentences.

It also displays complicated sentences (with many words and syllables) with suggestions for what you might do to improve its readability.'

 

So in essence it encourages the example that you quite rightly pointed out. However having said that I do write some material aimed at the more mature readers and therein use more complex writing styles.

 

I'm glad that you pointed it out and is a valid point. Besides that what did you think of it?

 

Kind regards

[FuryLost]

Ah, gotcha. Just looked up F-K and that's quite an interesting formula you guys have to use. The story does have a certain cadence to it, however.

 

But I liked it. The character interaction is great and it's not secret that they all hate and mistrust each other. The tease at the end, with that secret female spy, is also pretty intriguing. There are some minor mistakes (punctuation, grammar) but that just might be a consequence of a first draft or so. I've always enjoyed stories where characters are trying to find some angle, some advantage over on another and are willing to backstab each other.