The still morning air blew coldly through the rain starved forest and up into the snow peaked mountains beyond the horizon. It had not rained for weeks and the trees were beginning to die, leaving a stinging smell of rotten sap in the air. The winds began to grow louder, as if to howl at the injustice of nature gone awry. Dead leaves littered the grounds of the silent forest, a carpet to soften his footsteps, not to break the calm. The utter stillness before the forest passed away. The calm before the storm.
He moved quietly along, honoring the forests silent scream of pain and he understood it only too well. A life of pain had numbed him until he could no longer feel anything at all, but numbness was a gift in this cruel world. His parents had abandoned him and his brother on the streets to die. Every lesson he should have learned from his parents he learnt instead from the streets. They taught him a most valuable lesson; learn to swim or drown. He had tried to teach his brother that same lesson but Byron had never learned. He would always dream of being saved by someone else, never realizing that redemption lies in your own two hands.
He watched his brother die, brutally attacked by a gang of thieves and he didn’t shed a tear. Tears had not brought his parents back and tears would not ease his brothers suffering. Emotion was a terminal illness that would get you killed eventually. This was especially in his profession. Life was a wolf, always snapping at your heels and the only way to survive was to become a wolf yourself. For this reason he had become an assassin.
The dry twigs snapped under his feet as he moved slowly along. His black cloak swayed smoothly in the chill night breeze. He searched cautiously from left to right again, seeking out any signs of danger. Vigilance was a necessity for one such as him Everything appeared to be calm and peaceful but in his gut he could feel a growing apprehension.
Most would ignore such an obscure and seemingly unimportant feeling out of hand. He however was not like most people. He relied on and trusted his instincts. A good fighter was confident enough in his skills to win in a fight but a great fighter knew that half and more of that success was down to luck.
Times like these reminded him of his own parents and the only possession they had left him. He reached within his pocket and groped around for it now, he removed a tattered old scrap of paper. It was carefully folded and bound by string. He unwrapped it and read the hastily scribbled words. “Luck be with you, Callor”. The ink was smudged where tears had fallen and it was ripped in the corner but this was his. All his parents had left him before they abandoned him, a name to call his own and a wish for good luck. Well luck was with him, but only because he had taken it. Idle thoughts were pointless he reminded himself forcibly and that strange feeling had not yet disappeared.
Finally the rain came, crashing to earth as the skies burst, unleashing their load on the forest below. The rain starved trees would finally drink in some much needed water, although it was already too late for many of them.
It was nightfall when they came, marching through the trees, stamping on dead branches as if they were grassland, their torches quenched a mile back They made enough noise to wake the dead. It was clear they were tracking him; obviously the citizens of Delvian considered the murder of their corrupt mayor quite a tragedy. Normally he would leave a false trail for them to follow or if needs be kill them in their sleep, though he hated unnecessary deaths. Unfortunately neither plan was feasible because they had dogs with them. How he loathed dogs, those vile, rabid creatures, that always made his escapes that much more difficult. He was sure they shared his dislike they certainly seemed to attack him whenever possible.
He moved stealthily into the thicket and resigned to rest for the night. He had two more days of travel before he reached his destination; the city of Avalon. Perhaps if he was lucky his hunters would pass him by in the night. He covered his tracks and lay down on the wet ground. Before he fell asleep he grabbed a fistful of mud and smeared it over his skin to cover his scent, he really did not trust those hounds. He pulled his cloak over himself and let consciousness fade away.
Author notes
Option 5 - Fantasy
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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The description had a zing to it that kept me reading it till the end. I liked it a lot; good work.
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I really like this, especially the word choice. I can tell you worked really hard on this and you are a very talented writer! I'd love to see more of your work. Keep it up!
*Frozen Angel* -
Great job!!
this is a great story and I can tell you put alot of time into it. Keep up the good work!!
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Nice start
This story has a lot of potential. I liked the way you described the forest and surroundings before you introduced the character - good planning. As mentioned by some other readers, there are some cumbersome sentences and misused words, but these things can be easily corrected. The sentences are a bit too long and sometimes a bit awkward to read. However, you have a great sense of description, and the story really pulled me in. I would definately be inclined to read on, and that is a very good sign. Sometimes I can't make it through the first few paragraphs. This has an interesting premise, and I would love to read more. So, fix the grammer and the sentence structure, and get back to work.
Nice job so far! Jaymo8
beginning: 4, language: 2, plot: 5, ending: 4, dialog: 3, characters: 3.
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I enjoyed this story very much, but I think you tried a little too hard on some elements of it.
Rather than telling us about Callor's childhood, show us. Rather than just telling us what's going on - show us, but not overly so. When describing the forest, for example, your writing should be simpler, something elegant and beautiful, not overwritten.
Go back and read your story out loud. If something sounds awkward, it probably is. I know it's time consuming, but that kind of editing could take this story to the next level.
Good luck in the contest! -
Sorry, I'm really struggling with this. Some of your sentences seem to run on and meander about with no structure e.g. "A life of pain had numbed him until he could no longer feel anything at all, but he didn’t care, numbness was a gift in this cruel world at least he had always considered it so, the only gift he had ever received."
You have used the word "thought" instead of taught in "They thought him the most valuable lesson ".
You also state that the forest is "rain starved", then when the rain comes the ground becomes "water sodden" - that's a hell of a lot of rain!beginning: 4, language: 4, plot: 2, ending: 2, dialog: 4, characters: 2.
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Nice work. Some of it is overwritten, but this is exceptionally descriptive work and that happens to everybody. The word 'had' seems to be the hallmark of this overwriting. Example: "It was nightfall when they came, marching through the trees, stamping on the dead branches as if it were grassland. They had quenched their torches a mile back."
"It was nightfall when they came, marching through the trees, stamping on dead branches as if they were grassland, their torches quenched a mile back."
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i love it!
there is hardly any mistakes and i love it!
but i think people take emotions as they are bad... it depends on the person that how the emotions affect on them...
anger can blind a person but it can also make a person more powerful... anger wakes up the person's mind, and that emotion can make a person powerful and give the person strenght and concious!
but as i said before, it depends on the person that how he or she should take emotions, as a friend or an enemy...
anyway, amazing story! i love it! keep it up the good work!
beginning: 2.
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Great Work!
I really like it! you use such great description, just enough so the reader can picture it, but not too much to go overboard.
i can't really criticize it, "Emotion was a terminal illness that would get you killed eventually" - I Love that line! great work!
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