TITLE: Windcaller
GENRE: Adult Fantasy
Tlanis, a member of the lowly clayshaper caste, has been falsely accusely of theft. naShola, a noble woman with many secrets, has tried and failed to prevent his arrest.
They were calming discussing responsibilities and culpabilities while Tlanis crouched in the dirt, his face caked with blood. naShola wanted to scream, to crack the earth beneath them, to call down lightning and burn them all to ash. She clenched her jaw until she felt the bones might break.
“As for you, clayshaper,” enSureth declared, striding toward Tlanis, “your fate shall be kinder, perhaps, than you deserve. No unnecessary torment. The hanging will be at noon. A quick death. Then we shall put this all behind us.”
Tlanis met naShola’s gaze. Blood dripped from a shallow gash in his forehead. There was a bruise around his eye. But his mouth was a steady, fearless line.
She could barely keep standing. “Why did you do it?” she whispered.
He didn’t even blink. “I didn’t.”
naShola’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”
“Come, my girl,” enSureth said, taking naShola’s arm firmly.
naShola struggled as he pulled her away from Tlanis. “Wait. Let me go; I want to know --”
“Take him to the platform,” enSureth called to the guards. His grip grew tighter against naShola’s writhings. “I shall be there momentarily.”
“Let me go!” naShola had given up all pretense. She didn’t care what it meant for her prestige or place among the nobles; she didn’t care that enSureth was the prince who owned nearly a quarter of the Plateau. She elbowed him in the stomach, kicked his shins, clawed his arms. He let out a holler of pain and finally released her.
This excerpt is very well done (not a genre I usually read, but the strong writing kept my interest throughout the passage!) My only recommendation would be to incorporate a small hint as to why naShola is so invested in Tianis's fate that she engages in a physical confrontation with enSureth (obviously 250 words is too short to gain the full context, and I'm sure you answer that question either before or after the passage, but her rage at the beginning and violence at the end needs a tiny hint of what's at stake to put the pieces together --maybe something along the lines of what Tianis's death would mean for the kingdom, or the fact that he didn't do the crime he was accused of would result in unforeseen consequences for naShola. Again, this is a tiny nitpick, and I enjoyed the piece throughout--very well done!.
ReplyDeleteThey were calming discussing responsibilities and culpabilities while Tlanis crouched in the dirt, his face caked with blood. naShola wanted to scream, to crack the earth beneath them, to call down lightning and burn them all to ash. She clenched her jaw until she felt the bones might break.
ReplyDelete(I have absolutely no doubt how angry naShola is. Excellent. I like that you didn’t stop with “She clenched her jaw” and added “until she . . .” I would suggest finding a word other than “felt” perhaps, “feared the bones might break.”)
“As for you, clayshaper,” enSureth declared, striding toward Tlanis, “your fate shall be kinder, perhaps, than you deserve. No unnecessary torment. The hanging will be at noon. A quick death. Then we shall put this all behind us.”
(Great dialogue. Sounds natural. If possible, I try to combine action with tags when it flows, which I think it could here. “As for you, clayshaper,” enSurth strode toward Tlanis, “your fate . . .”)
Tlanis met naShola’s gaze. Blood dripped from a shallow gash in his forehead. There was a bruise around his eye. But his mouth was a steady, fearless line.
(“Fearless line” to describe his mouth—love it.)
She could barely keep standing. “Why did you do it?” she whispered.
He didn’t even blink. “I didn’t.”
(I feel the dialogue loses some momentum here and suggest reversing the sentences. “I didn’t,” he replied, not even blinking.)
naShola’s frown deepened. “What do you mean?”
“Come, my girl,” enSureth said, taking naShola’s arm firmly.
naShola struggled as he pulled her away from Tlanis. “Wait. Let me go; I want to know --”
“Take him to the platform,” enSureth called to the guards. His grip grew tighter against naShola’s writhings. “I shall be there momentarily.”
“Let me go!” naShola had given up all pretense. She didn’t care what it meant for her prestige or place among the nobles; she didn’t care that enSureth was the prince who owned nearly a quarter of the Plateau. She elbowed him in the stomach, kicked his shins, clawed his arms. He let out a holler of pain and finally released her.
I enjoyed this piece, not only is it angry, it’s ominous. Your dialogue is natural and moves the story along nicely. Best of luck with this story!