socrates2479
Member
- Joined
- Aug 1, 2006
- Messages
- 19
Hi All, this is my first post. I'm an amateur writer and have written the start of a lengthy piece. Any critique would be appreciated; although I have an idea of what I want to achieve I am not sure how I am doing.
Into a Darkening Storm
Chapter 1 - part1
It was dark. From the brief glimpses through the canopy overhead, Vicky saw the moon was a tiny sliver of white amongst the ebony blackness of the sky. The night was so dark not even the stars could be seen. It was the perfect night for someone trying not to be seen.
The black cloak she wore, hood pulled up to cover her face, blended her into the inkiness surrounding her. In the depths of her cowl, her eyes shone back silver, her adaptive eyesight compensating for the lack of light by dilating her pupils so that her hazel irises were only a thin band around the pupil. The only witnesses to her passage were the mighty trees of the forest, some of which were born before her people even set foot on these shores. A wind arose, moaning through the trees and ruffling her cloak, almost like the trees were disapproving of her ventures this night; she smiled to herself as she held onto her hood.
A long time ago her eldest brother, Guy, had told her trees were the souls of all the Raatians that had died in the Great Wars, and for a very long time she had always been frightened to do any wrong in sight of the them, afraid they may judge her. But she had lost all belief in that the day his body had been brought back from the front line. The giant figure that he had grown into lay still on the stretcher they had carried him on. At first she had thought he was merely sleeping, but the crying people told her something was very wrong. She remembered him lying there in his armour; his eyes, once so full of laughter, were forever closed and bound by a black scarf. The lips that had told her grand tales of heroes and their princesses and giant beasts were forever silent.
Ducking her head against the wind, and ignoring the trees’ accusations, she carried along the narrow path that wound its way through the trees. It was autumn now, and the trees had begun their shedding. All around her were the dead and decomposing leaves from the trees. The path she followed was kept clean of the leaves during the day, but in the dark some had fallen to lie like sentries in her path. She ignored these just like she had ignored the words of Scar earlier, but in the back of her mind she wondered if, in the end, all this trouble would be worth it.
After a while the path opened into a small clearing, and she carefully crept forward, mindful of the lack of cover. Not all people possessed her night-sight, but there was little need to take any risk. She hugged the tree line as she half-walked half-ran to the other side of the clearing where the path continued again. In the middle of the clearing were three small buildings that looked like holding pens, silent now as the beasts they held had been moved from this, their grazing ground, back the way she had came to the Heart.
There was very little noise beyond the chirping of insects and the occasional rustling of bushes as an animal wandered past. There were no predators in the forest, at least none that roamed wild. Almost all the animals had been domesticated long ago. She knew that she would not meet any people here on the ground, but she still felt uncomfortable. As she re-entered the shadows of the trees, her eyes wandered up to the canopy, now hidden from sight, but she imagined she could see families moving around the platforms high above, or walking across the rope bridges that rocked gently in the wind as they hurried home to loved ones.
It was strange for her being alone. Throughout her whole life she had been surrounded by people, mainly guards; she supposed they were for her protection, but with them in tow she was limited in what she could do or where she could go. Part of her knew that there was danger in being alone, especially since the war had intensified recently, but being cooped at home and protected more than usual had taken its toll, so she had decided to sneak away. The fact that she had not spoken to her parents for over a week meant that they were less likely to check on her, and for all they knew she was still in her room with the guards posted outside. All would be watching her door, making sure that no-one went in and that she did not leave. But then she had not used the door to escape her room.
Into a Darkening Storm
Chapter 1 - part1
It was dark. From the brief glimpses through the canopy overhead, Vicky saw the moon was a tiny sliver of white amongst the ebony blackness of the sky. The night was so dark not even the stars could be seen. It was the perfect night for someone trying not to be seen.
The black cloak she wore, hood pulled up to cover her face, blended her into the inkiness surrounding her. In the depths of her cowl, her eyes shone back silver, her adaptive eyesight compensating for the lack of light by dilating her pupils so that her hazel irises were only a thin band around the pupil. The only witnesses to her passage were the mighty trees of the forest, some of which were born before her people even set foot on these shores. A wind arose, moaning through the trees and ruffling her cloak, almost like the trees were disapproving of her ventures this night; she smiled to herself as she held onto her hood.
A long time ago her eldest brother, Guy, had told her trees were the souls of all the Raatians that had died in the Great Wars, and for a very long time she had always been frightened to do any wrong in sight of the them, afraid they may judge her. But she had lost all belief in that the day his body had been brought back from the front line. The giant figure that he had grown into lay still on the stretcher they had carried him on. At first she had thought he was merely sleeping, but the crying people told her something was very wrong. She remembered him lying there in his armour; his eyes, once so full of laughter, were forever closed and bound by a black scarf. The lips that had told her grand tales of heroes and their princesses and giant beasts were forever silent.
Ducking her head against the wind, and ignoring the trees’ accusations, she carried along the narrow path that wound its way through the trees. It was autumn now, and the trees had begun their shedding. All around her were the dead and decomposing leaves from the trees. The path she followed was kept clean of the leaves during the day, but in the dark some had fallen to lie like sentries in her path. She ignored these just like she had ignored the words of Scar earlier, but in the back of her mind she wondered if, in the end, all this trouble would be worth it.
After a while the path opened into a small clearing, and she carefully crept forward, mindful of the lack of cover. Not all people possessed her night-sight, but there was little need to take any risk. She hugged the tree line as she half-walked half-ran to the other side of the clearing where the path continued again. In the middle of the clearing were three small buildings that looked like holding pens, silent now as the beasts they held had been moved from this, their grazing ground, back the way she had came to the Heart.
There was very little noise beyond the chirping of insects and the occasional rustling of bushes as an animal wandered past. There were no predators in the forest, at least none that roamed wild. Almost all the animals had been domesticated long ago. She knew that she would not meet any people here on the ground, but she still felt uncomfortable. As she re-entered the shadows of the trees, her eyes wandered up to the canopy, now hidden from sight, but she imagined she could see families moving around the platforms high above, or walking across the rope bridges that rocked gently in the wind as they hurried home to loved ones.
It was strange for her being alone. Throughout her whole life she had been surrounded by people, mainly guards; she supposed they were for her protection, but with them in tow she was limited in what she could do or where she could go. Part of her knew that there was danger in being alone, especially since the war had intensified recently, but being cooped at home and protected more than usual had taken its toll, so she had decided to sneak away. The fact that she had not spoken to her parents for over a week meant that they were less likely to check on her, and for all they knew she was still in her room with the guards posted outside. All would be watching her door, making sure that no-one went in and that she did not leave. But then she had not used the door to escape her room.
