Thanks.
I would suggest you read the prologue, then you might see this story in a new light. It’s not entirely cliche.
Sci Fi & Fantasy / The Lost Truth-Chapter 1
Chapter 1: A Warrior’s Life
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 adversary moved to strike a blow to Royan’s right. In a blurring whirl, Royan deflected the attack with his weapon and thrust at the opponent’s left flank. The foe spun away, avoiding Royan’s blade by inches. At the same time, his own sword cleaved the air and slashed at Royan’s chest.
Royan jumped back and brought his sword up, a metallic clank resounding as the blades met, a spark flying from their intersection. Royan arced low, trying a different approach to knock his adversary off his feet, but their swords clashed again when the opponent parried the move.
Royan brandished his sword left and right, advancing forward in an endeavor to disarm his combatant. Their swords collided several times as they continued to block each other’s blows for the next few minutes. Both displayed equal skill and one could not overcome the other. Soon, both were worn out from their fierce battling.
Finally, they 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 clung 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 breastplate.
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 herself. Royan hated her, but he still wanted to find her one day so she could see what he had become without her help.
“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. He sighed in relief as each piece of the heavy equipment was taken off. During a spar, he always had to wear it.
Real swordfighting 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, so he was accustomed to it. For seven years, five days a week, he’d 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 couldn’t wait to become 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 chimed.
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. Then he left the chamber, headed 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 approached.
Walking across the grassy lawn towards the end of the palace grounds, Royan thought about his life. His intense training was paying off; he was a more skillful warrior than many of the boys his age, but it didn’t seem fair that he was under so much pressure to be one of the best. Why was he singled out?
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 was an elf. Along with his pointy ears, he had short golden hair and was nearly seven feet tall. Elves were 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 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. Fletching tools and pictures of heroic archers hung on the walls. 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 yesternight,” 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. We decided to go trekking one day, and we came upon a gigantic cave. It was one of those rare caves that contains trees inside. It was 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 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’ve made a bow for myself, the emperor, and one other boy who’s now an Evildoer. You must know that you’re 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 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 nocked an arrow and took careful aim. When he released it, the arrow whizzed away and hit the dead center of a moving target. The feel of the bow and the tautness of its string were just right.
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 seen 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’s irate 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 hard, anger surging through him. He spun away and began stomping back to his room.
Then something happened. He didn’t know what exactly, but it felt like some energy force passed through the air. Behind him, he heard a thud.
Royan turned back around and found Sergio lying on the stone floor, passed out. His pipe lay next to him, still furling smoke.
“Sergio!” Royan rushed over, just as Sergio’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked several times.
“Are you okay?” Royan asked with concern. His heart still beat rapidly and felt as though it’d tried to escape up his throat. “You scared me to death! What happened?”
“Uh…I don’t know.” Sergio sat up with help from Royan. “One minute I was sitting at the table, and the next…I woke up on the floor.” He stared at Royan. “Did you feel that?”
“The force of energy in the air? Yeah.”
“No.” Sergio placed a hand over his chest. “It was more than that. It felt like…something was trying to attack my heart. That’s when I blacked out.”
Royan’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t feel anything like that. Are you going to be okay now, or should you see a healer?”
“No, I’m fine. I only blacked out for a few seconds.”
“But–”
“A glass of water would be nice.” Sergio stood and sat down at the table again, picking up his pipe.
Royan sighed and went to fill a glass, using the water pump at the far end of the room, near their cabinets of nonperishable food items. He had just given it to Sergio when there was a knock on the chamber door.
“I’ll get it.” Royan walked to the door and opened it.
It was his friend from next door, Criss. He was a brown-skinned guy with close-cut hair. Behind him, there was a clamor of voices.
“Royan, did the same thing happen to you and your father?” he asked. “I was in my room reading when I suddenly blacked out. My father said the same happened to him, and a lot of other Evildoers are in the hallway now, claiming the same.”
Royan refrained from dropping his jaw. “Y-yeah. The same happened to us.”
“Unbelievable, isn’t it? People say it was some kind of power emission but no one knows where it originated. What do you think it was?”
“I’m not sure…perhaps we’ll find out at dinner. I’ll see you then?”
“Uh…sure. You okay? You look pale.”
“It’s just that power emission. It made me feel a little weak. Bye.” Royan hastily shut the door.
Sergio had rose to his feet. “This happened to everyone else? I better go talk to them.” He came to the door, and Royan stepped aside as his father went out.
Royan slowly made his way back to his room, all types of outrageous thoughts swarming inside his head. He stared at his unsteady hands as he went. When he tried to close them into fists, there was barely enough strength in his muscles to do so. It was like…
…like he had emitted a tremendous amount of energy.
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Hypernormal reviewed Version 1 -
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FrakKevin reviewed Version 1 -
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Or was it a one night stand?”-LOL his father’s reaction was perfect.
I’m usually not of medieval stories…involving elves and stuff but you won me over. Like I really enjoyed your dialog…it fit the time period but you didnt got out your way to over complicate. Some people who dabble in this time period use cliche words or those they dont even understand. I like the main character..it’s nice having a dead beat mom for a change. The ending was pretty neat…I hope you have a good explanation. I’m a big shower also, and could tell you did a much better job than me grammar wise. Overall I didnt find much negative about this honestly. You started and ended with action.
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somebill reviewed Version 1 -
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I’m not going to talk about the writing all that much. It seemed decent, although it wasn’t as smooth as it could have been. I usually phase out on the grammar and all when I get caught up in the story. That happened here.
It is a very nice beginning. I have to say that it feels very familiar. The story is fat with fantasy cliche. So much so that I feel like half of what will happen is obvious. The missing mother, the evildoers and emperor concerned with some kid, the training with the hard vet and an elf, it’s mostly old hat.
That being said, I thought it was fun. I like the main character, even if he is a little vanilla. Although a lot of it is convention, I am curious about what will happen in the details even if I feel like I know the general path. His mother could be anything and his power promises something cool. It might have been done, the scope of the power is a little bigger than usual.
It’s a decent bit of conventional fantasy. I might not be as into it as I used to be, but I can still appreciate it. My advice is to do as many odd and cool things as possible with the details and it will be good.
Of course it’s not ready for print, but with some work you might dosomething nice.
BluPhoenix28 reviewed Version 1 -
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Please read notes to the reviewed in profile.
You’ve got a very solid piece here. You’ve got characters with some depth and a great sense of exposition, especiall when it comes to action.
Some notes:
“Royan always addressed his” This paragraph seems wordy. Also, its like too many thoughts are trying to cram themselves into it. Consider rewriting and condensing.
Avoid the “Noun + verb. Noun + verb” format. You don’t do it often, but there are some places. It makes it very choppy and hard to follow. (example, the paragrapth that begins “Royan didn’t think he looked…”)
“Now Sergio would verbally attack Garik.” You have some great word choices other places. This seems to simple, more like its a note to you as to what’s about to happen. My suggestion is to rewrite this sentence completely.
Your intital description of Vorru needs to be fleshed out quite a bit. The reasoning behind this is that this is the first, beyond a shadow of a dobut, time that you establish this piece as a sci/fi fantasy. This is the opportunity to make this universe that you’re trying to draw us into your own. What tidbits can you give us about elvish society? Are they beautiful like all the other stories have? Again, this is very much the place to make this world yours.
Nice hook at the end. I look forward to reading more.
martykate reviewed Version 1 -
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he didn’t mind calling…” Cut this sentence off at “he didn’t mind.” You’re repeating yourself and this way you keep your prose cleaner
“must’ve” spell it out—must hav
You might change healthy large lunch to large lunch. You’ve already used healthy once—don’t repeat yourself
Wynom—did you mean “to” Wynom? easy to do, so be careful
with the genre you’re writing in, you might want to use “yes” instead of words like yeah. The language doesn’t need to be formal, but slang kind of distracts
The beginning scene where Royan and his friend were practicing had a kind of ponderous feel to it. Kind of dead. I don’t know what to suggest, but it lacked some excitement it should have had.
I like the ending where Royan displayed concern over Sergio when he was attacked. There was an expression of affection that gives credit to both characters.
I wish some magical word would come to you to replace “Evil-doers”. That’s weak and your story isn’t all that bad. You’re keeping your storyline moving along and keeping me interested in what is going to happen next.
Keep writing
Re reviewed Version 1 -
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In the first sentence is it really necessary to write the word necessary?
On page two “had had” I think one “had” works better.
Vorru is a 7ft elf but I always read that elves are small and considered a race of little people, are you breaking with tradition or is he a mutation? Anyway, the story is exciting with good pacing and descriptions. I really felt transported into another realm.
Kimbers reviewed Version 1 -
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An interesting medieval style of mystery here.
This was certainly enjoyable to read and you have definitely got into the showing rather than telling point of view.
You’ve set the scene well, going straight into a point of action with the sparing session, this immediately draws the reader in and catches their attention. The only thing I found was the fight didn’t seem as well choreographed as it could be. The moves seemed very randomized and I think a fighter of Royan’s skill would consider his moves and analyse his opponent more.
Royan seems like a level headed strong willed character. Whether that has emerged from his years of training or through some other thread of influence is, I think yet to be defined. I get the feeling there’s going to be more to Royan than initially meets the eye. An ongoing plot point perhaps?
You’ve done wonderfully on establishing the characters however I found the environment to be very sparse and vague in its description. It would be nice to “see” the world around Royan a bit more clearly. Maybe add a tad more description.
Watch the language usage. The one thing I find worrisome about dark age like pieces similar to this is the lack of proper language. If you want more authenticity in the piece maybe look at older phrases. Archaic language can add much in putting the reading in the right mind to follow the story and feel like they are more involved.
Well done.
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