Haha! I guess it could be a textbook, now that I think about it! Read Chapter 1 and find out why! lol
Novel Treatments / Chronicles of Incuson - Prologue v3
The starry sky held dominion over a silent yet panicked city that night. An eerie hush fell over the forest as every Draith in Tralia huddled together, not daring to speak as an ominous intuition settled over them. Near the edge of the city, where the tree houses gave way to simply trees, twelve uninvited Draithen sat inside the home of Mar’kaiya, a black-haired carpenter. They had fled the streets into the nearest house when the panic first erupted—Draithen running every which way, frightened for some unknown reason. Now they simply sat, huddling together, looking at one another’s confused faces.
Mar’kaiya’s house, like most of the houses, was a hollow carved out of a giant tree. The floor had a beautiful pattern of grey and white concentric circles, and the walls were a pale grey color. Faded brown leaves littered the floor. A small pantry, crafted from the white wood, stood against the gently curving wall. The room was lit only by a kerosene lamp on the table and a torch hanging on a bracket on the wall. The dancing flames threw eerie shadows over the walls of the Draithen sitting around the table in clusters. An old grey-haired Draith, having no place else to sit, contented himself with curling up in Mar’kaiya’s bed.
Frightened whispers punctuated the silence: something big was coming. Mar’kaiya watched a small she-Draith cling to her mother’s leafy dress, her green complexion pale as she timidly asked, “Mommy, what’s out there?”
“It’s nothing dear, I’m sure it will pass,” said the mother, nervously twirling her curly violet hair; but it was clear she wasn’t so certain. Her face was just as pale as anyone else’s in the room, and she trembled with fear. The young girl couldn’t have been more than three; her horns were mere points beginning to shyly poke their way through her lavender hair. The adults, on the other hand, had long, gently curving horns that pointed straight up, nearly converging at the top. Mar’kaiya looked around at the others who were huddled inside his house. Men and women of various ages, mostly random people off the street. They must have come out of their houses when the sensation first passed over the city, then panicked and lost track of where they should have been. There was a lot of confusion and mixing-up of people, and everyone just ran to the nearest house, desperate to barricade themselves from the danger they sensed.
Now they waited, their horns glowing with anticipation. The tension was almost suffocating Mar’kaiya. He stood up and walked over to the door, a big piece of sturdy bark nailed on hinges to a square hole in the tree’s massive trunk.
“I’m going to get some fresh air and see if there’s anyone out who knows what the matter is,” he announced to the motley crowd. A few Draithen looked up and nodded in acknowledgement. He trusted his house to random strangers; it wasn’t like anyone would steal anything. He grabbed the torch off its hook, opened the door and stepped outside.
A slight breeze rustled his hair as he tentatively crept down his steps. An odd tingling sensation buzzed in the air—something he rarely felt. Torch in hand, he scanned the darkness. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the immediate vicinity. Then he saw a faint light coming from the forest.
Mar’kaiya walked towards this light and saw that a group of five priests were standing around a campfire, their heads down. Instead of their usual green robes, they were wearing blue pants and shirts, with white capes draped over their shoulders—their ceremonial ritual robes. Puzzled by their attire, Mar’kaiya walked closer to them, stopping at a respectable distance from whatever magick they were performing.
“Excuse me,” he called. The priests all looked up. Their expressions were very grave.
“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Mar’kaiya asked. “What’s this sinister presence we’re all feeling?”
The priests whispered among themselves for a moment. Finally one answered. “A great and terrible evil will be upon us any moment.”
Mar’kaiya just stared, his subconscious fear confirmed. “Surely not…the evil?”
“Yes,” said the second priest. “The evil that has been prophesized for centuries.”
“Be silent, Kaspor!” hissed the third priest. “Must you always say too much?” The priest called Kaspor lowered his head in shame.
Mar’kaiya clenched his torch tightly, what little color left in his face draining away. “But…surely the Gods will protect us?”
“Us—as in Draithenkind—yes. It will be exactly as was prophesized,” answered the first priest. The five priests began chanting in unison in a strange language.
Suddenly Mar’kaiya heard a sound of trees splintering and crashing in the distance. The priests chanted louder, more urgently. A sudden draft of cool wind swept through the forest, rustling leaves. Mar’kaiya clutched his chest, his heart racing, and dropped to his knees. The torch fell from his hand, rolling in the grass.
“Dear Gods—” he gasped, praying. “Please, if you have any mercy, spare my wife and child.” There was no reason for him to be praying other than his grave intuition that whatever was coming was, indeed, a terrible evil that would try to devour them all.
The night sky grew darker as the cool breeze became a chilly gust. Purple leaves flew from the trees and glided to the ground. A bright orange flare caught Mar’kaiya’s eye—his torch had ignited the grass, and now the fire was slowly spreading. He stepped back, turning to bolt towards town, but his curiosity held him in the forest. The sound of trees falling grew louder by the minute, accompanied by eerie screeching noises. The priests stopped chanting and simply stared into the darkness—whether or not they had given up hope was uncertain.
The air became still, the leaves stopped moving, and the entire forest was silent. Mar’kaiya stepped back as the grassfire slowly inched its way towards him.
The silence was shattered by an ear-piercing scream—a reptilian shriek that chilled Mar’kaiya to his very bones. Then the Sitherdahn emerged from the wall of darkness. Its face was long and snoutlike, with sharp fins at the back of its skull—ears. Its eyes glowed with the fiercest white; its scales shone with the darkest black. Spiny wings unfurled from its back. Long, metallic blades on its forearms seemed to disintegrate, shrinking back into the flesh. Its lower body, legless like a serpent, was coiled beneath him.
“Sah’ke sey torr?” it hissed, flicking a long, red forked tongue between jaws lined with innumerable razor-sharp fangs.
“W-we don’t know what you’re t-t-talking about,” Mar’kaiya heard one of the priests stutter. The Sitherdahn grabbed him by the shirt, lifting him a good 2 measures off the ground.
“Sah’ke sey torr?” it repeated, hissing in his face.
“They aren’t here,” the frightened priest insisted.
“They belong to the Gods, you filthy serpent scum!” shouted Kaspor. The Sitherdahn’s eyes lit up. It hissed, and flames erupted from its hands, incinerating the priest in midair. The priest let out a scream; the others gasped. The Sitherdahn let him drop to the ground and flexed its arms—blades erupted from them out of thin air, and before the priests had time to react, the Sitherdahn sliced clean through them in one stroke. Upper torsos fell to the ground in unison, gushing dark blue blood. The priests’ faces were frozen in looks of terror. Their still-standing legs slowly crumpled and fell to the ground as well. Mar’kaiya trembled where he stood. He wanted to run, but his legs were unresponsive.
The Sitherdahn slithered over to Mar’kaiya, blades still drawn. “Sah’ke sey torr?”
Mar’kaiya was unable to contain his terror any longer; the stench of ammonia filled the air as his body discarded what little dignity he had left. The Sitherdahn snorted, shoving its blade into his stomach. He gasped, spittle and blood dribbling from his mouth. The Sitherdahn pulled its blade out and slithered past Mar’kaiya as he slumped to the ground. His vision was beginning to blur as his belly was filled with a dissolving sensation. He had time to see several more reptilian faces emerging from the darkness before he closed his eyes, losing consciousness forever.
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gemglitter reviewed Version 3 -
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Way better drama in this piece! I see you took some of my suggestions, I think they worked. My question now is, if they had never felt this presence before, how in the world do they know it is sinister???
Also when the priests chants, is it a strange language to them or to us the reader??
Great read!
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Kae reviewed Version 3 -
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I’d describe the Draithen in more detail. I read your first prologue and add some of the description you gave in that to this. I just didn’t feel like I got a very clear picture of the race.
You might also add a little more detail about how the surroundings look to make it more vivid and how the priests look (I know they’re Draithen, but I got an image of human old guys that I just couldn’t kick XD).
The description of the Sitherdahn was great!
gemglitter reviewed Version 2 -
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”...Stirred.” Sounds cliche.
Your dialog reads forced, and the part where the Sitherdahn emerges should feel tense and it doesn’t.
I have written prologues before and my suggestions given to me were to keep them short, and they were right in the end. Might think about shortening it, make some of the action part of the first chapter.
TreesGoneWild reviewed Version 1 -
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As an introduction to a game, this would work. As an introduction to a new world it needs more. Much more.
You are writing this as a history lesson so we need more about each race and central historical figures in each race. We need to know more detail the effects historical events had on the races that inhabit your world.
My suggestion is to skip the prologue all together and let this history of the world unfold as you unfold the events in your story.
Many times a prologue is unnecessary when that vital information can he doled out morsel by morsel in the course of telling the primary story. It allows the reader to put the world together slowly and make discoveries along with the characters in the book.
I’d look at what you have here as an outline, work with it and make some action and narrative happen. It could be very good.
fireballems reviewed Version 1 -
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i think it is good, but maybe go into the history of all the races a little bit more.
Try and make your prose more intresting. more enticing to the reader. right now it reads like a textbook. unless you are trying to do that, it is a bad thing.
i think the mythical treasure part was good.
raness reviewed Version 1 -
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I found this one a bit hard to be drawn into. It kept me at a distance and did not reveal characters that were real to me. I did not really belive in this places and these people. Make it more personal, make me feel as though I am there with you, learning and assuming a character, becoming a part of your story.
I do think, however, that you have a talent for writing. You write very clearly and with a strong view of what you are attempting to depict. I really think you will do well, you already are. Just, instead of describing a mythical place to me, describe real people that i can learn about and feel like i know. I want to love them or hate them. i want to be incorporated and drawn in so that i forget about the reality in which i actually live.
Good job though. You have a gift.
izzy421096 reviewed Version 1 -
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you acomplished your goal.
this is a wonderful word you have created.you need to show what is happening not just describe it.make me feel as if i’m there in your world.
other than that you have something good here.
December 30, 2006
Deleted User
Review of Version 1 -
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This is a very good premise for a novel. Anytime you are creating an alternate universe or world (ie: Lord of the Rings), there are limitless possibilities and your imagination can run wild. This being said, I must advise that you show us your story instead of telling us. Start your prologue by showing us this world, describe to us the clothes they are wearing, the way their homes look and so forth.
Might I suggest you start with a character to take us through this world, make the story through this person’s eyes. Let us see the cults ravaging and pillaging. Don’t tell us, that’s no fun.
Show us how lush and green their surroundings are and then what the cults did to these surroundings.
Please do not be discouraged by my comments I think you have a wonderful imagination and a great work in progress, I made the same mistake when I first started as well. I was writing like I was a narrator on the Discovery Channel, when I should have been writing like I was there.
I hope this helps you, for I would love to get to know this story.
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