Hello, I'm trying to polish up my novel and I would appreciate a critique on it. Any critique from grammar to flow is welcome. Thanks!
Oh, and hopefully this won't throw anyone off too bad, since they're only mentioned twice, but when I say satyrs, I don't actually mean...satyrs. I've not come up with a name I like yet, they're derived from satyrs, but different.
“Look, my brother,” Drasis said, “they work quickly. They work for us.”
Serith stood back and admired the walls of their palace being crafted. Throngs of elves, satyrs, minotaurs, men and women-- they all shuffled around, erecting a home for their masters.
“Soon the dark rule will be spread,” Serith said. His coal-black cape fluttered a fingertip away from the two portals in back of him. One was as black as the starless night above, the other red as a dying sun. Both gave hints of the land within them. A lone hawk glided above, his eye peering down into the black portal, mesmerized by the faint outlines of trees that stood with dead branches, and flower buds that were painted with drab colors. His stare shifted to the red portal, where fire danced and lava spurred. He squawked and flew away as Serith looked up.
Cerintez approached with a drumming feet. His shoulders looked like rocks perched atop a torso. He inhaled the sweet smell of a mild cold through his snout, his horns shaking as a chill went through his body. His spiked war hammer laid across his back, a silent threat to those who approached. He came to a stand before Serith. “One has quit working,” he said, nodding his head to an elf who was slouched over a few feet away.
Serith walked over casually, his scabbard swinging freely from his belt. The elf picked his head up. His eyes glossed over, like a lost soul destined for nothing but eternal suffering. He looked at his master coming near. Serith’s black robe skimmed the ground as he walked. His bangs fell over his eyes, the rest cascaded down the back of his shoulders. One hand was naked flesh, the other a gauntlet of plated armor tightened into a fist of spiked knuckles.
“What is your name?” Serith questioned. He stood a pace away from the elf.
The elf felt his knees begin to tremble and his hands quiver in fear. His throat felt like it had frozen.
Serith’s armored finger jingled as he gently soothed it over the elf’s face. “Surely you have a name?”
“Taleal,” the elf answered in a whisper. He bit his lip as Serith eyed him.
“Taleal,” Serith said, “you do not quit working. You work for me, my brother, and your father. Why would you want to disappoint all of us?”
The elf opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. He needed time to think, he couldn’t just blurt out a reply. Not to his master. “I do not like your rule,” he finally said.
“You do not abide by the dark rule?” Serith took his finger from the Elf’s face. His eyes creased in anger. Taleal felt the warmth leave his body and an icy chill flow through his veins, he felt all alone. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Serith’s face, much as he wanted to.
“One people, one land, one ruler -- that is the rule, elf. You do not go against it. No one goes against it!” Venom coaxed Serith’s words. His voice echoed in the ears of all his minions. Each worker stopped and turned, they were anxious to see the feud continue.
Serith pointed a finger towards the dense brush of a wooded forest. “You had better go with your brothers and bring down trees, build me a home and make something of yourself.”
The elf shook his head in defiance. “No, I want to feel the light, I want to feel the sun. I like being free, I don’t want to live under your rule any longer.”
“Fine,” Serith said. “Traitors will be naught in this land.” His hand darted out and clenched onto the Taleal’s ripped shirt. Serith guided him over to the red portal, inching him just a pace away from its crimson mouth. Taleal’s breath quickened, his hands wet with sweat. Thoughts were racing through his mind. He didn’t want to live like this, but he knew the red portal was worse than any hell Serith could inflict. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to be a pet to his master anymore. Serith slapped him across the face as he tried to avert this eyes. Taleal grimaced. His cheek turned to a blush pink; the bitter wind made it a burning sting.
Serith turned his head and shouted to his slaves, “This is what happens when you go against the dark rule! This is what ensues after you refuse me as your leader and the minotaur as your brothers. Behold the first victim to the red portal.”
Taleal looked at every living thing that stared back at him. Chants to throw him in arose from the back, satyrs were pumping their bony fists into the air in support. Men and women alike stood on the tips of their toes, staring in with eager eyes. Elves showed no mercy for their kin. “Dispose of him!” one yelled. “Torture him,” another suggested.
Serith turned back to Taleal, a twisted grin spread on his lips. “See what a ruckus you’ve caused. I can quell this shouting with a hand. And soon I will hold a mere finger in the air and quiet the entire land of Erior, because soon, my elf, all will come to respect and honor the dark rule. It’s a shame. You could have been dressed in the finest of garments, ate the grandest of meals, and picked any woman to lie in your bed. All of you were the first to come through the portal with me, I would have been fair to you. Yet now you will be able to choose nothing. Not even if you should smile or frown.”
Taleal accepted his fate. Fear fled his body as anger replaced it. He could feel the hatred boil inside of his mouth, ready to wrap around each word he spoke. He stood straight and leaned in close to Serith. “I would not trade a leaf that wiped my ass for a lifetime of taking your brother’s place, much less a peasant who swears to you. Freedom and light rule now, and they will rule forever. You are a failure that has yet to realize it.”
Serith laughed at him. “Bold words for one who enters the red portal. The light will not reign for much longer, elf. The color of blackness will soon takeover. Light is all that is wrong, freedom is a poison, and I am the antidote. The dark rule will unite every man, woman, child and animal. And it will discard the rebels. You are its first offender. I will not tolerate those who rise up against the rule, elf. Now perish from this land and enter a realm that even dreams dare not make their company.”
Serith thrust the elf forward. His fingers slipped way from Taleal’s shirt, letting him intertwine with the fiery portal. It consumed him like the clouds consume the moon.Serith twisted around. He wiped his hands clean, as if he had just touched the body of sin. His slaves were still staring at him.
“Get back to work,” he said brashly.
They didn’t need to be reminded of what just happened, some scurried away to their jobs, others stayed where they were and continued to build the palace they would soon call home.
Serith walked back to his brother, his feet treading over the rocky soil that smelt of burnt stone. He and his brother surveyed the land. Their faces were brought to a smile as the sight of plundered trees came over their eyes, heavy hammers forming the foundations of buildings filled their ears, and the smell of the smoked meat swirled around them like an aroma of perfume.
Like ants fetching food for their queen, the slaves worked endlessly. Giants helped lug heavier objects to where they needed to be. The moon peaked out from the dense set of clouds and ran a crescent streak down their blue flesh, highlighting their arms that bulged with muscles. Four men standing atop one another would not be enough to clash shoulders with these behemoths. The tiny satyrs ran tasks for the higher ranked; humans worked beside elves and minotaurs, hammering iron bolts into the ground, fixing piles of wood to support a roof; there was little time for rest. Through blood, sweat, toil and exhaustion, they worked. All for their masters.
“I see you’ve not lost an edge,” Drasis said to Serith, keeping an eye on the workers.
Serith grinned. “Just like when I punished the boy who did not lend a hand in the forest, back in our land. I think his bones may still sit next to the tree where I widened his stomach with a polished edge.”
Both chuckled, but their faces quickly turned back to a stoic stillness.
“That elf needed to be dealt with,” Serith said. “Our father will not come to us unless all of Mizridahl is pure under his rule. Soon, my brother, we will grant his wish.”
Oh, and hopefully this won't throw anyone off too bad, since they're only mentioned twice, but when I say satyrs, I don't actually mean...satyrs. I've not come up with a name I like yet, they're derived from satyrs, but different.
“Look, my brother,” Drasis said, “they work quickly. They work for us.”
Serith stood back and admired the walls of their palace being crafted. Throngs of elves, satyrs, minotaurs, men and women-- they all shuffled around, erecting a home for their masters.
“Soon the dark rule will be spread,” Serith said. His coal-black cape fluttered a fingertip away from the two portals in back of him. One was as black as the starless night above, the other red as a dying sun. Both gave hints of the land within them. A lone hawk glided above, his eye peering down into the black portal, mesmerized by the faint outlines of trees that stood with dead branches, and flower buds that were painted with drab colors. His stare shifted to the red portal, where fire danced and lava spurred. He squawked and flew away as Serith looked up.
Cerintez approached with a drumming feet. His shoulders looked like rocks perched atop a torso. He inhaled the sweet smell of a mild cold through his snout, his horns shaking as a chill went through his body. His spiked war hammer laid across his back, a silent threat to those who approached. He came to a stand before Serith. “One has quit working,” he said, nodding his head to an elf who was slouched over a few feet away.
Serith walked over casually, his scabbard swinging freely from his belt. The elf picked his head up. His eyes glossed over, like a lost soul destined for nothing but eternal suffering. He looked at his master coming near. Serith’s black robe skimmed the ground as he walked. His bangs fell over his eyes, the rest cascaded down the back of his shoulders. One hand was naked flesh, the other a gauntlet of plated armor tightened into a fist of spiked knuckles.
“What is your name?” Serith questioned. He stood a pace away from the elf.
The elf felt his knees begin to tremble and his hands quiver in fear. His throat felt like it had frozen.
Serith’s armored finger jingled as he gently soothed it over the elf’s face. “Surely you have a name?”
“Taleal,” the elf answered in a whisper. He bit his lip as Serith eyed him.
“Taleal,” Serith said, “you do not quit working. You work for me, my brother, and your father. Why would you want to disappoint all of us?”
The elf opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. He needed time to think, he couldn’t just blurt out a reply. Not to his master. “I do not like your rule,” he finally said.
“You do not abide by the dark rule?” Serith took his finger from the Elf’s face. His eyes creased in anger. Taleal felt the warmth leave his body and an icy chill flow through his veins, he felt all alone. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Serith’s face, much as he wanted to.
“One people, one land, one ruler -- that is the rule, elf. You do not go against it. No one goes against it!” Venom coaxed Serith’s words. His voice echoed in the ears of all his minions. Each worker stopped and turned, they were anxious to see the feud continue.
Serith pointed a finger towards the dense brush of a wooded forest. “You had better go with your brothers and bring down trees, build me a home and make something of yourself.”
The elf shook his head in defiance. “No, I want to feel the light, I want to feel the sun. I like being free, I don’t want to live under your rule any longer.”
“Fine,” Serith said. “Traitors will be naught in this land.” His hand darted out and clenched onto the Taleal’s ripped shirt. Serith guided him over to the red portal, inching him just a pace away from its crimson mouth. Taleal’s breath quickened, his hands wet with sweat. Thoughts were racing through his mind. He didn’t want to live like this, but he knew the red portal was worse than any hell Serith could inflict. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to be a pet to his master anymore. Serith slapped him across the face as he tried to avert this eyes. Taleal grimaced. His cheek turned to a blush pink; the bitter wind made it a burning sting.
Serith turned his head and shouted to his slaves, “This is what happens when you go against the dark rule! This is what ensues after you refuse me as your leader and the minotaur as your brothers. Behold the first victim to the red portal.”
Taleal looked at every living thing that stared back at him. Chants to throw him in arose from the back, satyrs were pumping their bony fists into the air in support. Men and women alike stood on the tips of their toes, staring in with eager eyes. Elves showed no mercy for their kin. “Dispose of him!” one yelled. “Torture him,” another suggested.
Serith turned back to Taleal, a twisted grin spread on his lips. “See what a ruckus you’ve caused. I can quell this shouting with a hand. And soon I will hold a mere finger in the air and quiet the entire land of Erior, because soon, my elf, all will come to respect and honor the dark rule. It’s a shame. You could have been dressed in the finest of garments, ate the grandest of meals, and picked any woman to lie in your bed. All of you were the first to come through the portal with me, I would have been fair to you. Yet now you will be able to choose nothing. Not even if you should smile or frown.”
Taleal accepted his fate. Fear fled his body as anger replaced it. He could feel the hatred boil inside of his mouth, ready to wrap around each word he spoke. He stood straight and leaned in close to Serith. “I would not trade a leaf that wiped my ass for a lifetime of taking your brother’s place, much less a peasant who swears to you. Freedom and light rule now, and they will rule forever. You are a failure that has yet to realize it.”
Serith laughed at him. “Bold words for one who enters the red portal. The light will not reign for much longer, elf. The color of blackness will soon takeover. Light is all that is wrong, freedom is a poison, and I am the antidote. The dark rule will unite every man, woman, child and animal. And it will discard the rebels. You are its first offender. I will not tolerate those who rise up against the rule, elf. Now perish from this land and enter a realm that even dreams dare not make their company.”
Serith thrust the elf forward. His fingers slipped way from Taleal’s shirt, letting him intertwine with the fiery portal. It consumed him like the clouds consume the moon.Serith twisted around. He wiped his hands clean, as if he had just touched the body of sin. His slaves were still staring at him.
“Get back to work,” he said brashly.
They didn’t need to be reminded of what just happened, some scurried away to their jobs, others stayed where they were and continued to build the palace they would soon call home.
Serith walked back to his brother, his feet treading over the rocky soil that smelt of burnt stone. He and his brother surveyed the land. Their faces were brought to a smile as the sight of plundered trees came over their eyes, heavy hammers forming the foundations of buildings filled their ears, and the smell of the smoked meat swirled around them like an aroma of perfume.
Like ants fetching food for their queen, the slaves worked endlessly. Giants helped lug heavier objects to where they needed to be. The moon peaked out from the dense set of clouds and ran a crescent streak down their blue flesh, highlighting their arms that bulged with muscles. Four men standing atop one another would not be enough to clash shoulders with these behemoths. The tiny satyrs ran tasks for the higher ranked; humans worked beside elves and minotaurs, hammering iron bolts into the ground, fixing piles of wood to support a roof; there was little time for rest. Through blood, sweat, toil and exhaustion, they worked. All for their masters.
“I see you’ve not lost an edge,” Drasis said to Serith, keeping an eye on the workers.
Serith grinned. “Just like when I punished the boy who did not lend a hand in the forest, back in our land. I think his bones may still sit next to the tree where I widened his stomach with a polished edge.”
Both chuckled, but their faces quickly turned back to a stoic stillness.
“That elf needed to be dealt with,” Serith said. “Our father will not come to us unless all of Mizridahl is pure under his rule. Soon, my brother, we will grant his wish.”
