Awoken (382 words Flash Fiction)

[Chel]

Until last night I thought all those First line-suggestions about death on the Workshop forum were too morbid for my liking. And then I got inspired by them.

Until a few hours ago, I didn't know there was such a thing as Flash Fiction/Short Short story/Micro-story. Now I do, and got even more inspired. I know this is a, well, short, short story, too short to fall within the guidelines for critiquing, but as it is the whole story I hope I can still get some feedback.


Awoken

My last breath was peaceful despite the pain, and my death was beautiful.

Before dying, for a brief moment, I was content. I could not have chosen a better death than this. A heroic death on the battle field, a death that would grant my country victory and my wife a secure widow's pension.

But I wasn't allowed to remain dead. I barely had time to feel the freedom, the lack of worry and concern, and a glimpse of the green fields, blue skies and old friends who died before me. Then I was Awoken, brutally ripped back into my suffering body.

A grinning young Shaman knelt beside me, one hand on my shoulder, the other wiping my ruined face with a bloodstained rag.
“You killed their general,” he said, “The prince ordered us to Awake you. Only you. You will be celebrated and rewarded.”

I couldn't answer, couldn't plead for my death. I was afraid if I didn't clench my jaws I would scream out the agony, and heroes don't scream, not even when they have died from their injuries. The enemy general's horse had trampled me, and both my legs were broken. There was a deep cut in my right arm, my sword arm, but what killed me was a blow to the head with a mace.

My killer, the general's personal bodyguard, lay beside me. He wasn't Awoken. He would feast with his friends and the general in the afterlife – I would not. I would spend the rest of my days watching my wife work while not being able to help her. I would never walk again, never wield my sword. I would never give her children; I could see the horror in her face when she looked at what was left of mine.

The son she gave birth to looked a bit like I had before I died. I never asked who his father was. I treated him as my own, and I taught him to hate the prince and the shamen. I taught him how to kill them, painfully, and how to bring them back to life, to suffer as I suffered.

I laughed as they beheaded my son, knowing that he would run across those peaceful fields, under those blue skies. One does not get Awoken after committing regicide.

 

[Doctor Crankenstein]

They explore a similar theme in Buffy. She jumps into a vortex to seal it sacrificing herself. Later her friend brings her back from the dead and she is upset about it because she was happy, at peace, content and warm

I like the spin you put on it at the end =D Very very cool.

 

[Ronanida]

Interesting, so say the least :3
Just a few things:

“You killed their general,” he said, “The prince ordered us to Awake you. Only you. You will be celebrated and rewarded.”

This seems a big vague and I had to read it a few times before being able to make a guess, which turned out to be wrong anyways. Is the shaman a good guy or a bad guy? Is the prince? What I gathered is that the shaman, who comes off as a bit malicious, brought the hero back on purpose on the order of the Prince.
Then you follow up with:

My killer, the general's personal bodyguard, lay beside me. He wasn't Awoken. He would feast with his friends and the general in the afterlife – I would not.

This again comes off as a bit misleading. I originally interpreted it as the general and the general's bodyguard would be feasting with the hero, if he had passed on, but the bodyguard is the hero's killer so it hints at some kind of betrayal, but I'm not sure if that's what you're looking for.
Since it's a short short story, I understand that there's not supposed to be too much background info, but when you're dealing with kings, princes, and generals, a bit of clearing up might help.
Here's how I would have written those two parts:

A young Shaman knelt beside me, grinning, one hand on my shoulder, the other wiping my ruined face with a bloodstained rag.
"Sorry to wake you, hero," He said. "but the prince ordered us, you killed the enemy general afterall. You're the only one, though. To be Awakened, that is. The prince has promised a grand celebration for you."

That may be changing it around a little too much, but doesn't make it sound as if the shaman were full of malice.
Here's the other one:

My killer, the general's personal bodyguard, lay beside me. He had not been Awoken, as I had. He would feast with his friends and his general in the afterlife – I would not.

This one wasn't as misleading but a few changes make it clear.

BTW, this could develop into an intriguing plot for a longer story
Wish I could keep reading!

 

[Droflet]

Well Chel, as much as I dislike slipping into the Australian vernacular on this site: What a bloody ripper!!!! I got a glimpse into the ending of Gladiator as he strolls through the fields as death approaches. A very clever concept carried off with your usual flair. Bewdy!

 

[The Judge]

Nothing's too short to fall within the guidelines for critiquing! And you have adhered to the guidelines admirably, despite the brevity. (And it's not the shortest we've had here, either.)

A neat little story and well-handled. I do have two quibbles, though, as I'm a quibbling sort! One, if he is indeed a hero, wouldn't he have been given some kind of reward so as to alleviate his wife's apparent poverty? That kind of thing would in fact be much more likely than a widow's pension, which tends to be introduced only in quite welfare-advanced societies, whereas heroes have been garlanded with honours throughout the ages (cf Blenheim Palace!). Second, if the shamans can perform such miraculous things as bringing back from the dead, I'd have thought some kind of medical treatment would be available for his injuries. And even if he is Awoken, can he not commit suicide later?

A few nitpicks, also:

on the battle field, - battlefield, all one word, and I'd use a semi-colon in place of the comma to show the longer pause

I barely had time to feel the freedom, the lack of worry and concern, and a glimpse of the green fields - worry and concern are so close in meaning that having both doesn't add anything: the rhythm is indeed best with two words, but I'd try and replace one of them with something else. More importantly, when you move to "a glimpse" you've lost track of your original verb which was "to feel" (he couldn't feel the glimpse) so you need "and to catch a glimpse..." or similar.

A grinning young Shaman - I'd go with lower case "shaman", especially as you have "prince" not "Prince" but whichever you use, be consistent -- you have it without the capital later.

“You killed their general,” he said, “The prince ordered - the punctuation's awry: a full stop after "said" as you have a capital for "The". It is possible to have a comma there and then continue, in which case it would have to be a lower case "the", but as this particular sentence reads I don't think that would be correct since it doesn't give the pause the shaman would impart to it.

He would feast - I had a bit of difficulty with your use of tense for the rest of this para. The use of "would" gave me the idea that he is still lying on the battlefield and imagining what would happen, a kind of premonition culminating in him imagining the horror on his wife's face. If this is what you intend, all well and good, though it might be best to make it a bit clearer. If instead this is what he is recalling now, may years after the event, that he wan't able to give his wife children, then I think you need to alter the tenses to reflect that eg "I saw the look of horror..."

I would never give her children; I could see the horror in her face when she looked at what was left of mine. - I think this semi-colon needs to be a full stop -- otherwise you are linking the two sentences together and "mine" seems to refer back to children for an instant!

and the shamen - typo "shaman" (I'm assuming it isn't meant to be the plural?)

Dewpite the nit-picking quibbling, as I say a neat story. Well done.

 

[Chel]

Thank you all so much for the feedback!

Doctor Crankenstein: I've never seen more than fifteen minutes of Buffy. It really wasn't my cup of tea. Nice to know that I can come up with ideas professionals also come up with though! I was a bit baffled over the ending myself, it seems a character can get to life (or un-life maybe in this case) even in a very short story like this one. I knew when I started writing that he'd become very, very angry at not getting to stay dead, but I didn't know just how angry he was until he sent his "son" to sort out his revenge.

Ronanida: You're so right! I need to clarify a few things, thank you for pointing it out. The prince thinks he's rewarding the hero, and the shaman is just following orders. They are both neutral, neither good nor bad guys. Luckily 380-ish words is short even for flash fiction, so I can elaborate.

Telford: If I wasn't grinning so much I might blush at your praise. I've never seen The Gladiator either... I'll remedy that blunder as soon as I can though.

The Judge: Wow. I think your critique is longer than the story itself! It's all spot on, though, and some of what you say I was also thinking about when I wrote it. The "lack of worry and concern" worried me, too, but I was a bit pressed for time and couldn't come up with anything better. I'll consult my other half, who has the weirdest stash of words in his vocabulary.

I was also painfully aware about the tense in the para about how the hero ended up - I think I rewrote that three times, but nothing felt really right. I'll have another go at it now that I've been out in the real world for a few hours.

Thank you very much for the nitpicks as well, Judge, those errors are at least very easy to fix.

 

[Chel]

Here's the revised version. I'm up to 426 words now.

Awoken

My last breath was peaceful despite the pain, and my death was beautiful.

Before dying, for a brief moment, I was content. I could not have chosen a better death than this. A heroic death on the battlefield; a death that would grant my country victory and my wife a secure widow's pension.

But I wasn't allowed to remain dead. I barely had time to feel the freedom, the lack of worry and hardship, and to see a glimpse of the green fields, blue skies and old friends who died before me. Then I was Awoken, brutally ripped back into my suffering body.

A grinning young shaman knelt beside me, one hand on my shoulder, the other wiping my ruined face with a bloodstained rag.
“You did it! You killed their general,” he said. “The prince ordered us to Awake you as a reward. Only you. You won the war for us, for the prince. You will be celebrated!”

I couldn't answer, couldn't plead for my death. I was afraid if I didn't clench my jaws I would scream out the agony, and heroes don't scream, not even when they have died from their injuries. The enemy general's horse had trampled me, and both my legs were broken. There was a deep cut in my right arm, my sword arm, but what killed me was a blow to the head with a mace.

My killer, the general's personal bodyguard, lay beside me. He would not be Awoken. He would feast with his friends and his general in the afterlife – I would not. I would never walk again, never wield my sword, never be a whole man. I would spend the rest of my days watching my wife work and not be able to help her.

I could never give her children. I saw the horror in her face when she looked at what was left of mine, but she still stayed with me, the celebrated cripple who received the never-ending gratitude of the prince.

The son my wife gave birth to looked a bit like I had before I died. I never asked who his father was. I treated him as my own, and I taught him to hate the prince and the shaman. I taught him how to kill them, painfully, and how to bring them back to life, to suffer as I suffered.

I laughed as they beheaded my son, knowing that he would run across those peaceful fields, under those blue skies. One does not get Awoken after committing regicide.

 

[Doctor Crankenstein]

But I wasn't allowed to remain dead.

I think this sentence is a bit... blunt? It starts with 'but' and is very short... It kind of breaks the 'flow' of it I guess.

 

[JCAllan]

Hi Chel.

I thought this was great! Have you thought about turning it into a full novel length story? Even reading this short piece I can see a lot of potential for growth and expansion. You could explore the world that this takes place in and craft a great novel I think.

I eagerly anticipate further updates

 

[Chel]

Crank - I'm considering what you said about that sentence. I'll get some more opinions on it before possibly changing it.

JCAllan - Welcome to the Chrons, and thank you for your interest. I admit I'm toying with the idea of fleshing it out into a (longer) short story, but I have a couple of other ideas I want to work on first, before starting something potentially depressing like this.

 

[Blackrook]

I like the story but I have a few quibbles with the pagan mythology. My understanding is that death on the battlefield is the only way to go to the Elysian Fields you describe.

Therefore, the prince and the shaman would have gone to Hades, which is an unpleasant afterlife for all -- good or evil, since they did not die in battle. So they would be quite grateful to be Awoken.

The son who committed regicide would be punished by the gods for this crime against the state, and end up in Tarturus, a place of torment. He would not go to the Elysian Fields after committing such a crime, and dying an ignoble death.

 

[Doctor Crankenstein]

Did he state that it was pagan? If not then the people that die can go wherever he pleases.

*Edit* Even if it is Pagan, why can't he alter it somewhat? I mean... we have vampires that instead of burning, twinkle and glitter like Christmas baubles *facepalm*

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

I depends on which pagan mythology you are thinking of, Blackrook, out of the thousands available around the world and through the ages. The one with the Elysian fields doesn't have shamans. And as the story is fantasy, this could be a religion entirely of Chel's own devising. So long as it is self-consistent, it doesn't have to conform to any religion that ever was.

I question a mythology that would reward regicides with a blissful afterlife, however. Unless the ruler was a tyrant, but there is no indication of that.

On the other hand, if the prince has a record of dealing out such "kindnesses" to his subjects, I could see it. It might make an interesting addition to the story, if the hero finds himself in the company of other suffering individuals the prince has seen fit to reward in one way or another, people who must live in misery as a testament to the prince's twisted magnanimity.

Or if you mean that the hero has simply been driven mad by his situation, and only imagines that his son will be rewarded in the afterlife, then I think there should be some other evidence of his madness.

 

[Doctor Crankenstein]

Perhaps the fact that those who were killed by the son were killed because they meddled in things that they "ought not ave meddled in" and as such they deserve to be killed.

But if you use that the son has meddled with them as well...

 

[Chel]

I imagined something very simple. You die, you go to heaven. You know the sort of no-bullsh** view on things children often have - if you die, you go to heaven, it's just that simple. I honestly hadn't even thought about any Pagan mythologies when I wrote this - if anything, there might have been a sprinkling of Valhalla spurring me on, but the whole description of the afterlife was less important than what actually happened.

The main character experiences this heavenly afterlife and likes it, especially compared to living on in a broken body with a face his wife can't even look at anymore. He is shown heaven, but is forced to live in hell.

Maybe when his wife has a son by another man, our hero plans to make the child kill the prince and shaman, knowing that the son will be killed for it. Maybe getting the son executed is part of his plan, his revenge on his wife... or maybe he has honestly come to care about the boy, as he said.

It is the hero who is telling the story of what happened to him, after all. It's very possible that Teresa is right, and the son didn't go to heaven at all.

 

[Blackrook]

There is no mythology or religion that believes that all people who die go to paradise. All religions put conditions on that achievement, which depend on the values of the society that hold the belief system.

In some religions it is believed that a life of good deeds will get you to heaven. In some religions, faith in a diety is all that is needed. In some religions you must bravely die on the battlefield. In some religions you must die a martyr while killing enemies of your religion. In some religions getting married and having many children is necessary.

A good way to learn this information is to check Wikipedia, which is not totally accurate, but a better source than a source that is blantantly biased. Getting objective information about a religion's beliefs may be difficult because some religions "hide the ball" on their true beliefs. For some religions, the only source of the truth are people who have left the religion. This is especially true about small religions which are viewed with suspicion by the majority.

I guess what I'm saying is this is an example of the rule: "Do your research."

To be a good writer, it is necessary to be a good researcher. The more you know about a subject, the more believable and interesting your story will be. Not doing your research has consequences, the most important being that people who know about your subject will see your errors and lose interest in the story.

 

[Chel]

If I do write this into a longer piece, I'll be sure to add more depth to the religious aspects - after all, I'd need to spend a lot more time on worldbuilding than I did for this story.

And why not, all this feedback has given me a lot of ideas, insight and inspiration. Thank you all!

 

[Liz Bent]

I really enjoyed this story. As for where people go when they die, nobody really knows, and I think depicting a lovely pleasant meadow is a nice contrast with the actuality of bloodied corpses on a battlefield. The point was that the protagonist was going to someplace lovely, and that was taken away from him.

I can't decide if I like the story as short as it is, because it makes me think, or if I would like to see the story fleshed out into a longer piece. Probably both! Nicely written.