Thank you for the helpful advice. I know this is a little rough; I wrote this a long time ago.
Sci Fi & Fantasy / The Lost Truth-Prologue and Chapter 1
Prologue
The night felt darker than any other night Aurilyn had ever encountered. Not dark as in a shroud of blackness, but dark as in mysterious or wickedness. The air was ominously still and the moon could only penetrate its silver luminosity through a few gaps in the Unifern forest’s canopy.
Those details should’ve been Aurilyn’s first clue that something was wrong. But she foolishly ignored her intuition. She thought she had nothing to worry about.
Besides, she wasn’t riding through the forest alone. She had her guards, who were always ready to die for her, their empress. The four of them rode black horses and wore leather armor with sharpened swords in their belts. Two of them knew sorcery as well.
Aurilyn gently coaxed her steed, a unicorn with fur so white it almost radiated with light, to a stop while her guards did the same. They had reached the glade that had become familiar to her. Here, there was ample light provided by the nearly full moon in the sky.
“He is meeting you here, My Lady?” asked one guard.
“Yes. King Xonerulees should be showing up any minute.” Aurilyn tuned her senses to the surrounding area. A breeze blew by, fluttering the two thin braids on each side of her head, while the rest of her hair remained immobile in its single long plait. She heard gentle susurration of the leaves and muffled clip-clops of the unicorns that inhabited the Unifern forest. An excited whinnying escaped from her unicorn, who was happy to be home again.
It wasn’t strange that Xonerulees wanted to meet Aurilyn in this forest. They were always welcomed by the unicorns. The creatures even helped make sure no one disturbed them during a meeting.
Aurilyn dismounted her unicorn and pulled her cloak tighter over her long silver robes and caramel skin. Her guards followed her lead, hovering around her as they searched the woods for her empire’s strongest ally.
“What time is he supposed to be here?” asked another guard, watching the position of the moon.
“Midnight,” Aurilyn said, recalling the message she’d received that evening. “Which would be right about now–”
Aurilyn didn’t sense the attack until it was too late. Two of her guards, the sorcerers, were struck down first by magical orbs of light. The four horses went into a frenzy, rearing onto their hind legs and neighing wildly before fleeing in different directions. The remaining two guards drew out their swords, but instantly collapsed after being pierced with arrows through their necks.
Aurilyn only had three seconds to realize what was happening, but she was trained to act swiftly. When a large sphere of black magic hurtled towards her, she swiped her hand at it, deflecting the sphere so that it went soaring to blend in with the night sky.
That’s when a tall form in a dark cowl appeared across the clearing. The figure stopped a few yards away.
“Greetings, Empress Aurilyn,” the voice said, bringing a slight chill to Aurilyn’s bones.
The empress glared at him as realization dawned on her. “Toliath. You sent me that message.”
“Yes, I can forge King Xonerulees’ signature fairly well, don’t you think? By intercepting his real message, I was able to make mine sound just like it had come from him.” A shaft of light displayed the smirk underneath his hood.
Aurilyn clenched her fists by her sides. “So you’ve finally gotten me alone.”
“I guess I have. Your guards proved no match for my Evildoers.”
A surge of melancholy and anger swept through the empress. “You ambushed us!”
“Yes, that would’ve been the easiest and most devious way to get rid of you. But I guess you were somehow aware of my presence, since you blocked my spell. No matter. I’m here to take your place as ruler of northern Jasahi.”
“I’ll never let you become emperor of my people. You’ll have to kill me first.”
“That is why I sent my Evildoers away. I’m ready to face you, the most powerful sorceress in Jasahi, in a sorcery duel for claim of your empire.”
So the rumors had been true. Toliath must’ve become as powerful as Aurilyn to challenge her in the most dangerous way two sorcerers settled crucial matters.
But Aurilyn was unperturbed. “I’m ready.”
Toliath flung off his cowl, letting it fall gently to the ground. His appearance was more intimidating in person than on the WANTED parchments in the marketplaces. His biceps were twice the size of a normal man’s and he was maybe an inch taller than Aurilyn, who was six feet tall. Toliath’s skin was deeply tanned and his hair was a sandy color, stopping at his shoulders. He wore a black robe over gray breeches and his dark eyes were devoid of any morality.
Aurilyn slipped off her cloak as well, despite the temperature of the chilly night. Beside her, the unicorn pawed the ground, sending mental wavelengths of anguish to its owner.
Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, Aurilyn told it telepathically. Just stay back, I don’t want you to get hurt.
The bashful creature neighed softly, then stepped backwards to give Aurilyn and her foe space.
The empress made the first move of the duel by swiping her hand in a swift motion in front of her. A silver blade of magic pierced the air and shot towards Toliath.
Toliath created an invisible magic shield before him, but Aurilyn had anticipated that. She gave her attack more energy at the last second, and when it hit Toliath’s shield, he stumbled back a few feet, weakened by the blow.
Toliath countered with his own attack by hurtling a series of magical black disks towards Aurilyn. Aurilyn shielded the disks with her magic, but they were steadily weakening her barrier. She had to let loose a powerful beam of magic to stop Toliath from continuing the attack.
Aurilyn lost track of time as the sorcery duel went on for what seemed like hours, though was probably no more than ten minutes. Tons of energy drained from her as she fought, but she refused to surrender.
She and Toliath traded tremendous magical blows, one after the other, so that the clashing of the powers must’ve been seen from five miles away. It was apparent that they were equally matched.
Then the battle came to a horrifying climax. Most of the unicorns in the forest had kept as far away from the two combatants as they possibly could. Yet one territorial gray-colored unicorn was not thrilled about these two trespassers. It charged into the clearing where the duel was taking place, neighing angrily.
Aurilyn was distracted by it, fearing for its life. Unfortunately, taking concentration away from a sorcery duel for even less than a second was all the time it took for one of the duelers to overcome the other. So Toliath took this chance and used a paralysis spell on Aurilyn. His dark energy surged through her and she was unable to move from her spot as Toliath began using a torturing spell on her.
Aurilyn’s insides felt like they were on fire. She cried out in intense pain and fell to her knees.
Chuckling to himself, Toliath ambled closer to Aurilyn, staring down at her. “Looks like I win. I’m now the new ruler of northern Jasahi.”
Aurilyn panted, leering up at her enemy. “Curse you, Toliath. You won’t get away with this.”
“Well, it’ll have to be someone else who must attempt to stop me, because I will show you no mercy. Time to die.”
Toliath raised his hand with his palm facing Aurilyn’s chest. She fought to stand or use a spell, but every part of her body rebelled against her.
The last thing she heard was Toliath’s voice, yelling “Zyxourdyslanate!”, the word for the killing incantation.
* * * *
Daveed’s muscles became taut as he swung the axe through the air, chopping the wood before him in half lengthwise. The log pieces fell away, and Daveed stopped a moment to wipe the perspiration from his brow. It surprised him that he could sweat so much in the cool air of autumn.
“Honey, we have enough logs to last the whole winter,” said his wife, Leyora, cuddling their newborn baby to her chest as she watched her husband.
“I’m letting out frustration,” Daveed said.
“Are you thinking about what’s going on up north?”
“Yes. I hate living on the run. And to think two years ago, we were living peacefully and happy under the reign of Empress Aurilyn.”
“Aurilyn’s dead, Daveed. It hurts no one more than me because she was my dearest friend.”
“I know.” Daveed clenched a fist. “I would’ve loved to seek revenge on Toliath! He was beginning to trust us…”
“But we had to leave the empire, for the sake of this little guy.” Leyora patted the back of her son. “I was not about to allow Toliath to take our son and recruit him to be one of those dreadful Evildoers. You do believe we made the right choice, I hope?”
Daveed nodded. “There was no way we could’ve hidden him till he got older. Good thing Shiah was already too old not to forget his parents, or Toliath would’ve taken him when he first became emperor.” Daveed glanced over at his oldest son. Six-year-old Shiah was currently playing with his favorite marbles, knocking them against each other.
Worry lines creased Leyora’s forehead. “Toliath’s empire grows rapidly. We might not be able to run forever…”
“He’s nowhere near taking over Benaados. And if he did capture that city, I’d know next time I went for supplies, and we’d run before the Evildoers saw us.”
“You were part of his army once,” Leyora pointed out. “Toliath may be searching for you personally. You remember what happened to others who tried to escape him.”
Daveed left the axe and walked over to his wife, laying a hand on her shoulder. “We are safe. Toliath will not find us here.”
Leyora nodded, but still appeared unconvinced. Daveed himself didn’t believe they were safe, but knew it was a risk to move further south. They knew trustworthy people in the nearby city of Benaados, and they would have no way to get the supplies their new son needed without them. Once he was older perhaps…
But it was barely a week later when Daveed’s worst nightmare came true. He was outside piling firewood neatly beside the house when heard the telltale gallops of steeds heading towards him. As soon as he saw the armor of those who rode the horses, panic ripped through his chest and he dashed into the cabin.
Leyora had been rocking the baby to sleep, and Shiah was on the floor arranging his assortment of marbles quietly. When Daveed burst through the door, Shiah jumped, scattering his marbles with a clatter all over the place, and the baby started wailing loudly.
“Evildoers are on their way here!” Daveed told his family.
Leyora leaped up, patting the baby on the back. “What are we going to do? Can we outrun them?”
Daveed shook his head. “They have horses and we don’t.” He turned to his eldest son. “Shiah, run into town and get help. I’ll try to hold the Evildoers off till you bring some men who can help me fight them. Be quick.”
“Yes, Father,” Shiah said, sprinting out of the cabin.
Daveed began buckling his sword onto his belt. Leyora went over to him and clutched his arm.
“You can’t possibly fend Evildoers off for long, especially if they’re sorcerers,” Leyora told him.
“I can try. I won’t let Toliath have either of my sons without a fight.” Daveed rushed to the door and opened it. Then he stopped in his tracks. The band of Evildoers was right outside the cabin, where they began dismounting their horses.
Daveed unsheathed his sword and told Leyora, “Stay in here and protect the baby as long as you can. Let us hope that Shiah gets back here in time.” Then he charged out of the cabin.
Leyora put a blanket over the baby and cuddled him close. She sat in the middle of the cabin, leaving the door open so she could see what was going on outside.
Daveed began trading blows with an Evildoer who also wielded a sword. While Daveed fought, two other Evildoers blasted magical spells at him. Daveed had created a magic-repelling barrier around him that stopped the spells from reaching him, but it would soon grow weak if it kept being attacked.
Daveed was overwhelmed when a fourth Evildoer appeared and started brandishing a sword too. Daveed had only wounded the first Evildoer in the shoulder when he was finally stripped of his weapon. Afterwards a fist connected with his jaw, and then Daveed was on the ground, dazed as two Evildoers pinned him down. One of the sorcerer Evildoers gave an order and pointed towards the cabin, and the other sorcerer advanced forward. Daveed could only struggle helplessly as the man approached his family.
Leyora cowered to the back of the cabin, holding her baby tightly. There was nowhere to hide. The cabin was scarcely furnished.
To her baby, Leyora whispered, “Don’t worry, my sweet darling. No matter what happens, you’ll be able to protect yourself when you grow up. You’ll see. Your father and I made sure of that.”
When the Evildoer came towards Leyora, she fought as hard as she could, but was paralyzed by a spell the Evildoer put on her. She could do nothing as she was tied up and the baby was confiscated from her.
* * * *
Sergio’s eyes flitted to the grass under his feet as the recently captured couple dangled from the gallows, slowly suffocating to death.
A hand touched his shoulder then, and he looked up into the face of his emperor.
“I have an extremely important task for you,” Toliath told him.
Sergio’s eyebrows raised. “Yes?”
“You’ve always wanted a son, right?”
Sergio sighed. “More than anything.”
Before Sergio knew what was happening, a bundle wrapped in a white blanket was thrust into his arms. He stared down at the small red face of a sleeping baby.
Sergio looked up to stare at Toliath, opening his mouth. No sound came out though, for he was utterly dumbstruck.
“You are to raise him to become the greatest Evildoer I’ve ever had,” Toliath instructed. “Do not disappoint me.”
“I-I won’t. That’s a promise.”
“Good.”
As Toliath walked away, Sergio stared down at the baby, a huge smile on his face. He’d finally gotten his wish.
He fiddled with the blanket covering the infant, and noticed a glint of metal. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a nametag.
His new son’s name was Royan.
Chapter 1: A Warrior’s Life
(Seventeen Years Later)
Royan held his sword high and watched his opponent through the eye slit in his helmet. The steel armor he wore was heavy and burdensome, but necessary.
His opponent moved to strike at Royan’s right side. Royan clinked his sword with his opponent’s to block the blow. Then he lifted his sword and tried to attack his opponent from the left. Their swords clinked again.
Royan continued to swing his sword brutishly in an endeavor to disarm his combatant. But his opponent parried every move, and soon both were worn out from their fierce battling.
Finally, they both drew apart. Royan panted and sweat rolled down his forehead from inside the stuffy helmet. He took it off and shook his mane of shoulder-length hair.
“Yeah, I think that’s enough for today,” said his opponent, who also took off his helmet. Royan’s friend, Garik, had also been sweating. Garik’s blond hair was clinging to his forehead and his freckled face was red.
“Do you think that was good enough?” Royan asked.
“We’ll see,” Garik said, watching the door to the sparring room.
Royan counted down from five. Right on cue, Sergio stormed into the room, just coming down from the watchtower.
“Royan!” Sergio thundered. “What was that? You had him cornered! You could easily have taken him down!”
“This isn’t a real battle,” Royan said, using the same argument he did every day.
“You’re supposed to pretend it is! When you’re facing an enemy, are you going to go easy on him too?”
“When the day comes, I’ll fight how you’ve always taught me to. For now, give it a rest, Sergio.” Royan began taking off his plate armor.
Royan always addressed his father by his first name. Royan wanted to call Sergio ‘Father’ like all the other children did to their fathers, but Sergio didn’t permit him to. Royan didn’t know the reason why he couldn’t. It had always been like this. Royan had had a problem with it more when he was younger, but now that he was seventeen he didn’t mind calling his father ‘Sergio’.
Royan didn’t think he looked much like his father at all. Sergio was forty-one, and he had long red hair, a crooked nose, a square-like jaw, and green eyes. Royan, on the other hand, had a small nose, gray eyes, and dark brown hair that he usually kept in a ponytail. He didn’t see how he and Sergio could be related, except for the fact that they were both extraordinary fighters. Royan knew he must’ve gotten his looks from his mother.
According to Sergio, Royan’s mother had been a cruel woman. She left Royan when he was a baby so she wouldn’t have to take care of him. She was selfish and only cared about providing for herself. Royan hated her, but he still wanted to find her one day so she could see what he had become without her help.
Royan was supposedly training to become the best fighter Toliath’s army ever had. He was already stronger, more skillful, and faster than most of the others his age. They were also being trained to be in Toliath’s army. But for some reason, the training was harder on Royan; Toliath’s orders.
“Don’t you turn your back on me when I’m lecturing you, boy!” Sergio continued to rant. To Royan, most of Sergio’s ranting went in one ear and out the other.
Royan continued to remove his armor. It felt relieving as each piece of the heavy equipment was taken off. During a spar, this armor was used to make sure he and his opponent didn’t kill each other.
Real sword fighting will be much easier, Royan thought.
“…and his right side was wide open!” Sergio was shouting. “But did you try to attack there? No! You went for his left side! That’s why he blocked you!”
Royan wiped his forehead with the towel on the wooden bench. Garik had removed his armor and was trying his best not to burst out in laughter. Royan hated that Sergio was always making a fool of him.
Sergio finally paused in his ranting.
“Are you done yet?” Royan asked.
“No,” Sergio said fervently. “How many times do I have to remind you how important this training is? And you’re not even listening to me.”
“I’ve been listening to the same stuff since I was ten.”
“Then I wonder why it hasn’t sunk in to your thick skull yet.”
Garik let a snicker slip out. Sergio shot him a cold look.
“Um…” Garik said, clearing his throat. “Sir, Royan is already exceeding everyone in his sparring class, so I don’t see why you can’t let up a little on your lectures.”
Royan cringed. Now Sergio would verbally attack Garik.
“Garik,” Sergio began calmly, “I don’t think you realize how much the emperor is constantly at my throat about Royan’s training. It’s too important for an obnoxious riffraff like you to get into the middle of!”
Now it was Royan’s turn to subdue his laughter. Garik, whose normal color had finally returned to his face, turned pink again.
“Royan, get your stuff together and go get ready for target practice,” Sergio said. He kept a close eye on Royan as he gathered up his armor.
“See you later, Garik,” Royan said.
“See you,” Garik replied.
Royan walked out of the spacious, stone-walled sparring room. He wasn’t very fond of fighting in it. He preferred sparring outside. At least during target practice he would get a chance to get some fresh air.
This vigorous training had always been part of Royan’s life since he was ten (before he turned ten, he was constantly exercising to get fit), so he was accustomed to it. For seven years, five days a week, his training went as followed: wake up at sunrise, eat a healthy breakfast, run laps, help out villagers who had chores for him, eat a healthy large lunch, practice new moves during sparring, target practice, and then he could do whatever he wanted till dinner. After dinner he usually kidded around with the guys, then it was bath time, and finally he would go straight to bed. On his days off, he relaxed as much as he could.
Royan didn’t mind. He knew why he had to train so hard. Toliath must not be disappointed. But Royan often wondered what it was like outside of Toliath’s empire. What it was like to do whatever he wanted and to choose his own future. Then again, he wondered what he could do once he became an Evildoer.
Yet why was Toliath’s army called the Evildoers? Did they really do evil? Royan hoped not. But whatever Toliath wanted, Toliath got. Unless Royan preferred to have his head removed, he must do whatever the emperor said.
Royan began walking down the long corridor and then started up the spiral staircase leading to the Evildoers’ living quarters.
On his way up, he passed by two girls who were on their way down. Both were quite ravishing. One had brown skin with black hair in a multitude of braids. The other was pale with frizzy red hair. They smiled when they saw him.
“Hi, Royan,” both girls chanted together.
Royan smiled back, but continued up the stairs without saying anything.
He pondered what it would be like to have a girlfriend. Sure, he talked about girls with the guys and he chatted to girls sometimes, but only when Sergio wasn’t around. Sergio told him that women brought out the weakness in a warrior, so one should not concern himself with hanging around them too much. Royan kind of understood what Sergio meant, but also figured that his mother was partly to blame for Sergio’s warning.
Once Royan entered Sergio’s chamber on the fourth floor, he went to his room and quickly dressed into his olive tunic and brown breeches for archery practice. He didn’t know which one he like better, sword fighting or archery, and he was equally skilled in both. He supposed there were times he preferred one over the other. Sword fighting involved more action and intense concentration. Archery involved attacking from a distance and careful eye coordination. And best of all, no Sergio. At this time of day, Sergio had his own work to attend to.
Royan left the chamber, stomped back down the stairs, and walked to the back door leading out of the palace. Once he stepped out, he took in the bright blue sky and warming sun, with the smell of blossoming flowers in the air. The cold season had finally ended and the season of warmth was approaching.
Walking across the grassy lawn towards the end of the palace grounds, Royan thought about his life. With so much training, he was more skilled than most adults who lived in Jasahi. He could hardly wait for the day he could finally use his skills in real battles.
The sound of arrows leaving bows and striking their targets filled Royan’s ears as he neared the archery field. His archery instructor, Vorru, was watching students practice their aim.
Vorru happened to be an elf. Along with his pointy ears, he had short golden hair and was nearly seven feet tall. Elves were famously known for their excellent skills in archery, and that’s how Vorru got his job.
Vorru turned his eyes away from the practice field and noticed Royan heading over.
“Good evening, Royan,” Vorru greeted jovially.
“Good evening, Vorru,” Royan replied. “Has my longbow been fixed yet?” Royan had broken it last week by pulling his string out too far. The wooden part of the bow had split in two, so he’d had to use one of Vorru’s spare bows for the past few days.
“No. There is no need. Come.” Vorru walked towards his little mud hut a few meters away. Royan followed curiously.
Vorru invited Royan inside. He rarely did so to students, and Royan felt honored as he entered.
Inside the hut was rather crowded. There was only one other room besides the main one, and it was Vorru’s bedroom, which took up a small section on the left side of the hut. The main room contained a small wood table with two chairs and two windows, one facing the practice field and one facing the palace. Golden streams of sunlight cast over everything, giving the place a merry glow. Along the walls were fletching tools and pictures of heroic archers. The lingering smell of sawdust from Vorru’s woodworking met Royan’s nose.
Royan waited by the door as Vorru went over to the back of the hut. The elf picked up a short bow leaning against the wall.
“I just completed this last night,” Vorru said, handing it to Royan.
Royan admired the bow as he gently took it from Vorru’s hands. He’d never seen anything like it. It was made of black wood with a groove where his hand was supposed to go.
“Wow,” Royan gushed. “You made this for me?”
“Of course. Nothing but the best for a champion archer.”
“I’m not quite a champion yet. Not like you.”
“You’re good for a human. Have you looked at the front of it?”
Royan turned the bow so that it was facing him. The letters ROYAN were vertically inscribed into the wood above the place where he would grip the bow.
“How did you put my name on it?” Royan asked, awed.
“With the crafting tools. I chipped it into the wood. Do you like it?”
“Like it? I love it! I mean, only reputable archers of the past get bows with their names etched in the front! This is beyond words! I don’t know how to thank you!”
Vorru grinned. “Glad you love it. A lot of labor went into making that piece.”
“But why did you do it?”
“You deserve it. Only the best for an emperor’s yet-to-become Evildoer. You only have one more year of arduous training left.”
Royan ran his fingers over the letters of his name, smiling like he’d just been awarded an honorary achievement.
“Do you know what wood that’s made of?” Vorru asked, watching Royan. Royan shook his head.
“I went on a trip a few years ago, on a quest to find an old friend of mine,” Vorru began. “Yes, it was another elf like myself. A woman. She specializes in making prized bows. So I stayed and learned a little from her. We decided to go trekking one day, and we came upon a gigantic cave. It was one of those rare caves that contains trees on the inside. We walked all the way to the back and entered among a forest of trees with bark of that color. Imagine a forest of black-colored trees! It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before, but Iyris, that was the elf’s name, knew of the trees, and had even made bows out of its bark. The trees were called junilows, and they have the toughest bark of all trees in Jasahi. We were able to strip off as much bark as we could carry and take it back to her place. Before I left and came back Wynom, I packed ten strips of the junilow wood. I was going to save them for something special. I’ve made a bow for myself, the emperor, and one other boy who is now an Evildoer. You must know that you are very special to have been the fourth to receive a junilow bow.”
“I can’t believe you think I am worthy of this,” Royan said. He pulled the string back, aiming an invisible arrow.
“Don’t talk nonsense. You wouldn’t have it if you weren’t worthy of it.”
Royan let the invisible arrow fly. “Thank you so much, Vorru.”
“You’re very welcome. Now what are you waiting for? Go try it out.”
Royan excitedly rushed out of the hut and towards the archery field. He hoisted a quiver of arrows onto his back and took place at the moving targets practice area. He strung an arrow and took careful aim. When he released it, the arrow zoomed away and hit right in the middle of a moving target. The feel of the bow and the tautness of its string were just right.
“What’s that?” asked one of the boys on Royan’s right.
“A junilow bow,” Royan answered proudly.
“That’s so cool. How can I get one?”
“They’re rare. You’ll have to ask someone to make you one. Someone who has junilow wood.” Royan felt unique. None of the other trainees had a junilow bow.
Target practice went well. He only missed nine out of forty targets. Yesterday he’d missed thirteen.
“You did very well today, Royan,” Vorru complimented, as Royan began walking away from the archery field. “Keep up the good work.” He winked.
“Thanks again for everything,” Royan said.
“No problem. I’ll see you same time tomorrow.”
“See you, Vorru.” Royan carried his bow as he walked back up to the palace. He couldn’t wait to show it off to Garik and the other guys.
Once inside the palace, Royan went back up the four stories to his room. He propped the junilow bow up against the wall by his bed. Then he lay down and daydreamed about fighting in a war and using the bow to take out numerous enemies. Once his army won, everyone would call him a hero and his name would go down in history.
He was so deep in thought that he didn’t hear his father come in. Sergio was standing in Royan’s doorway.
“Sergio, look!” Royan said. He grabbed the bow and brought it over.
Sergio took it and ran his fingers over the wood. “Did Vorru make this?”
“Yeah. Out of junilow wood.”
“Junilow? Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Hm…interesting. I’ve never see a bow made from the junilow tree. This must be worth tons of gold.”
Royan smiled widely. “Only I, Vorru, Toliath, and some other Evildoer have one.”
Sergio handed it back. “I take it you are doing well in your archery skills then.”
“Yes. Very.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. So will Toliath.” Sergio went back into the main room. Royan put down his bow and followed.
“So how was your day?” Royan asked.
“Grim,” Sergio said. He lit a pipe and puffed it once. “Toliath is getting angry about not being able to capture the Zoan kingdom in the west. We’re preparing for an attack, but we’re not sure it will be enough.”
“I can’t wait till the day I can join the army.”
“It’s not all fun and glory. You should enjoy your youth while you can.”
“Don’t you like being an Evildoer?”
“Sometimes. Toliath…he has a bit of a temper, and the tiniest mistake could set him off. But we’re the lucky ones. The villagers have it much worse.”
Royan was silent for a minute. Then he asked, “Do you think my mother is still in the empire?”
Sergio stared at Royan. For a minute, it seemed as though he had something important to say. But then he gazed out the window and said, “Not if she knows what’s good for her.”
“You never told me how you two met,” Royan said.
Sergio fidgeted. “You know I don’t like talking about your mother.”
“But you never talk about her! Were you two ever in love? Or was it a one night stand?”
“Don’t talk like that! It’s none of your business.”
Royan sighed angrily and stomped off to his room where he flopped down on his bed.
It wasn’t fair. He was curious about what his mother had been like and what had happened between her and his father. But Sergio never talked about her. It seemed a little suspicious. Maybe his mother hadn’t left him out of selfishness. Maybe she’d been forced to leave Royan. Maybe she’d done something to infuriate Toliath and she’d been executed…
“Royan.” Sergio was standing in his doorway again.
“What do you want?” Royan snapped.
Sergio sighed. He entered the room and sat on the edge of Royan’s bed.
“I’m not fond of remembering the time I was in love with your mother. It brings back painful memories, and I didn’t appreciate her leaving me with you.”
“So you were in love with her?”
“It was love at first sight.” Sergio stared at the air, looking back at a memory from long ago. “She was gorgeous and…just everything a man could ask for. She looked just like you, except she had really long hair. She was an entertainer for Toliath. We met one day at a formal ball.”
“So what happened?”
“She wasn’t interested in me at first. I wasn’t one of the ‘Top Evildoers’. I was just one in the crowd. She barely gave me the time of day. Until I rescued her when she fell into a river. I had been fishing while she skipped across the rocks not too far away, going from one riverbank to the other. I’ll admit, I was only fishing at that spot because I was spying on her.
“When she fell in,” Sergio continued, “I didn’t hesitate on jumping in after her. Once I pulled her out, she was so shaken up. She thanked me, and hugged me. I was so happy. After that, we became friends. Her name was Angele.”
Angele. It was the first time Royan had heard her name. It was a beautiful name, and he could almost imagine what type of person would fit it.
Sergio went on. “Angele was hard to keep up with though. She was adventurous, and she spent gold like she had all the coins in the world. And the night she became pregnant with you, she was tipsy.”
Royan frowned. He was conceived out of drunkenness.
“Once she knew she was pregnant…” Sergio seemed to be trying to remember. Royan didn’t see how he could forget any of it. “…she left the palace and went into hiding. I didn’t know she was pregnant. Until she came back nine moons later with you in a bundle. She left you outside this chamber with a note saying you were my son and that she couldn’t keep you. I knew how she was, so I knew she only left you because of her own selfish reasons. You had a nametag on you, so I decided to keep the name. Royan.”
Royan fingered the nametag around his neck; he’d been wearing it forever. “You never saw her when she came back to leave me?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then how do you know she wasn’t in trouble and needed to leave me with you to make sure I wasn’t in danger?”
“I don’t know what was going on inside her head at the time. If she was in danger, she would have come to me, I hope. But she never came back, so that alone should prove how cruel she was.”
“She could have been in trouble and was killed somehow…”
“Yes, but we’ll never know, will we? See, talking about your mother just leaves too many questions lingering around. I hope you’re satisfied now.”
“I am. Sort of.” Royan turned to face the wall. He heard Sergio stand up and leave the room.
Royan didn’t need a mother. Forget Angele. He had turned out just fine without her.
He decided that he wouldn’t ever try to find his mother after all.
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OresteseViera reviewed Version 1 -
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when you say mysterious and wickedness in your first paragraph, I generally think wickedness is dark and dangerous as mysterious is at best harmless and at worst possibly in trouble.
that something was wrong. But she foolishly ignored her intuition / change the the period to a comma and then decapitalize but
Two of them knew sorcery as well./ I don’t think as well is needed here.
Well, the action is connected, the false story of his mother is sure to keep him from wondering too much, but I wander if he’ll ever believe his true origins. As for Sergio, I think I see a bit of remorse in him. I see how he doesn’t want to acknowledge that Royan isn’t his son without telling the truth, and that is wonderfully done. It gives him a better side, a side that the reader can connect with. I wonder though is Royan is evil, truly evil. What I see now,I like. I would like to read more.
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SwordMistress reviewed Version 1 -
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This is an intriguing start. I think I like the overall plot. I say I think because I’m not sure where this story is going. It don’t think the prologue fits well. It’s unusual for a prologue to be split. Usually it’s about one person or set of people at the same time period. The first part seems unnecessary unless the princess is not really dead and will be taking part in the story later. The second part seems to focus too much on the parents since they die and the story really seems to be about Royan. Also much of the prologue could be given later in the story and you could easily start with Royan and give all the information better. Although, I think my suggestion would be to shorten the second part of the prologue and focus more on the baby.
I think the first chapter could use a little more excitement. Not much happens. It’s interesting, but there isn’t a whole going on. It makes it easy for the person to put the book down and take a break after chapter one.
Suggestion: Instead of telling us the night felt darker and then explaining that the darkness is mysterious and wicked, why not just say the night felt wicked or something even more descriptive?
“The air was ominously …Unifern forest’s canopy.” Wordy. The air was still and the luminous moon only penetrated a few gaps in the Unifer forest’s canopy. (Still wordy, but better.)
“susurration of the leaves” just say whispering or rustling. Not many readers will know what susurration means.
“her unicorn” not needed. We know she’s on the unicorn. What else would she be dismounting.
“her long silver robes and caramel skin.” What point of view are intending. So far it sounds like third person limited (Aurilyn’s.) If is she wouldn’t be thinking about the color of her robes or her skin.
“instantly collapsed … their necks.” Here is a place it would better to show. It will make the scene more riveting.
“That’s when” delete
“most dangerous way” Not needed. It’s obvious a dual between two powerful sorcerers is going to be dangerous.
“weakened by the blow.” This obvious because he stumbled back.
“She had to let loose” She let loose
“Tons of energy drained” Energy drained
“Then the battle came to a horrifying climax.” The ending of the battle would be more powerful if you didn’t warn the reader.
“neighing angrily.” Show this. Are the unicorn’s lips curled back? Is the neighing high pitched” Low and deadly sounding?
“Unfortunately…and used a paralysis spell on Aurilyn.” Wordy and a little trite. I suggest something like, She only allowed herself to be distracted for a second, but it was all the time Toliath needed to act.
“intense pain” delete ‘intense.’ If it was enough to make her cry aloud then it was intense.
“Daveed’s worst nightmare came true.” This would have more impact if you don’t warn the reader.
“began buckling” buckled
“he was finally stripped of his weapon.” Describe this. How did it happen?
“Daveed was on” fell to the ground? collapsed? Of couse the word ‘was’ is sometimes necessary, try to avoid when you can.
“The cabin was scarcely furnished.” This is too vague and is telling, but this is an exciting part and you don’t want to stop the action here to describe the cabin. I suggest add a brief sentence or two earlier about what the cabin looks like.
I would help if you gave us brief one or two word descriptions of the evildoers to differentiate between them. Right now there really isn’t much to picture. If the reader can picture or give an identity to the Evildoers this will have more impact. Right now they’re nameless faces. If they all look the same and no longer have names than the reader needs to know that too. That’s creepy in itself.
“fought as hard as she could,” this should be shown, not told.
“Royan clinked …to block the blow.” Awkward. Royan blocked the blow. OR A loud clank sounded when he blocked the blow with his sword.
“swords clinked” IMHO clinked isn’t strong enough. Clinked sounds like glasses making a toast, not swords clashing.
“sword brutishly” try to avoid adverbs whenever possible. Is there another way you can say this?
“was clinging” clung
“plate armor.” Is this full plate armor or just partial. Full plate usually require help getting in and out of.
“about providing for herself.” about herself
“It felt relieving … was taken off.” Awkward. Try something like, he sighed in relief as he dropped the heavy breastplate to the floor.
“this armor was used …kill each other.” Pretty much a given. Armor is always used for protection.
“Sergio was shouting.” Sergio shouted.
“his training went as followed:” he’d
“On his days off,” What days off? You said he did the same thing seven days a week for the last five years. Did he finally earn some days off? Does he get holidays off?
“chanted together.” Chimed?
“attend to.” Delete ‘to.’
“was approaching” approached.
“were famously known” were known
“was rather crowded” was crowded.
“Along the walls were fletching tools and pictures of heroic archers.” Fletching tools and pictures of heroic archers hung on the walls.
“I love it!” Be careful with the overuse of exclamation points. It’s the equivalent of shouting at the reader and is considered amateurish.
“Royan excitedly rushed” delete ‘excitedly.’ You’ve done a great job making the excitement clear.
“right in the middle of” the dead center of
I think you need to end the first chapter at a more exciting point to spur the reader to go to the next chapter.
Jedikid129 reviewed Version 1 -
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The intro in the forest was excellent, and I like that you started with action. I’m sure you are aware that this kind of thing doesn’t easily come across to he reader as well as it does in your own head, because you compensated accordingly:
”...clashing of the powers must’ve been seen from five miles away.”
My suggestion is that you give us more of that. Tell us about how much they’re wrecking their surroundings and (Since these appear to be some pretty tough socerers) destroy the forest as if a war was being fought in it.
“Evildoers? Did they really do evil? Royan hoped not.” I laughed at this. Royan is pretty likable as a character.
It seems like Sergio is going to have a problem keeping his lies straight, and that it’s only a matter of time till everything crumbles. I don’t have much of an idea of how Royan will react, though. I hope you explore some other aspects of his personality beyond what we saw here, such as his anger, in later chapters.
Gavinswar reviewed Version 1 -
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Starting off, you overuse some word, repeating them making the thought redundant, in the first few paragraphs, Unicorn stands out as one.
First sentence, the word dark could be omitted at for one its uses.
Suggestion rephrase: ‘but dark as in mysterious or wickedness.’ Change to ‘but in wickedness.’ it will streamline the thought and flow a bit better.
In reference to the guards, they seem so one dimensional, instead of telling us they are tough and know magic, let us see it through her eyes. Have a discussion between her and one, reveal that she is royalty then as he address’s her. Then have her eyes catch site of the old wand that is fastened to his belt, and detail it a bit.
My point is it was very predictable they they were meant to be cannon fodder, and in turn no surprise when they died.
Now onto wording, its so B movie, ‘evildoers’ really? were you going for a campy comic feel, if not it needs to be redone.
Also Toliath, is evil and ready to challenge her, and hes killed her guards, yet shes not nervous? I am a fighter, and have been for years, but I still get the jitters when confrontation is eminent. Especially because anyone with lukewarm IQ would realize that he has no doubt prepared for this, and she is not.
Also I would doubt that a ‘evil’ guy like him would go one on one, I wouldnt especially if she’s powerful. Why would he obey rules, have his crew kill her and then take the glory, perhaps intending to doublecross them.
It feels like you wanted a battle and were determined to show one, but all in all it feels unnecessary. You can still have it but set it up differently.
Have her mention a vow or formal dueling method, and council witnesses blah blah. And of course Toliath, ignores it and tries to have his henchmen riddle her with arrows.
Make her somehow overcome them, then fight him. Make it something that cant be avoided. Perhaps his cocky grin is lessened when his men are dead.
Also in a place where unicorns dwell, I think her steed would have behaved oddly, when his kin were not present or perhaps they could have found a dead one. Then the ambush comes.
The next scene, your in way too much of a hurry, and it make the dialog seems so forced and cliche. How often do you and your close friends recap situations that you are both familiar with? Not often huh? Because its unneeded. Start from his perspective and go from there. Chopping wood, her eyes upon him, the baby cooing gently against her chest. with each swing of the axe he imagines cutting into his nemesis, hate boiling inside him. Then have a conversation, be less specific, the reader will figure it out. YOu don’t need to cover every emotion, the audience isn’t stupid.
Plot holes, Okay Daveed and his wife are living in hiding and they no form of egress, what kind of soft guy is he. If hes a former soldier on the run being hunted, he would have some defense in line, its just not thought out and most readers will stop by this point because its like a bad movie.
I mean seriously I am a paranoid person, and in turn I have multiple emergency plans for my life. What to do if, robbed, attacked, fire, zombie apocalypse ext…
Royan, is he a main character, if so you need to make him someone that we care about. He seems so generic, why do I give a damn about his endeavors, make him something special, contempt for his father, some over abundant skill in fighting. Something that makes him interesting.
He so basic, its sad.
In regards to constructing a convincing battle scene, I would recommend reading Homeland, by RA Salvatore. Its been a huge help to me as has all of Salvatore’s writing.
Again you tell us that Royan is so skilled, but I dont believe it, its not convincing. Show us what makes him great. Dont tell, show!
Think about it do you believe the guy who tells you how smart they are and that their IQ is on par with Einsteins, but acts like a moron. Or do you listen when someone who you have seen figure out difficult problems with ease, offers you advice.
All in all, this needs a lot of work to be enjoyable, most of all it needs to be better thought out, and far less rushed.
Gavinswar
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