So i am trying to write a novel, the begining of the first chapter is in my post, can everybody please tell me what he/she thinks.. and a few questions..
(a) Did you get bored?
(b) Would you read the rest of the story?
Chapter I
The eyes never lie
The shadows were filling the empty dry atmosphere, and the cold shaped spheres filled with darkness on the wooden floors. The light was forbidden, and some murky shadow was standing beside the eccentric contraption along with the surrounding metals and gears. Everything was covered with darkness as if the night has vowed to befriend the room, embrace the air, and coat the existence of this distant world. White light couldn’t find its way, and faint blue flames were everywhere guiding the paths of the kingdom. The black granite fences guarded the paths and the blue flames hanging on each end of the fence were shining bright. There were some closed paths where green flames were standing like a fierce sentinel guarding his royal king.
Loud noises were heard; their echoes traveled between the passageways and shacks. The shadow was still watching, waiting, and his calmness was obscure. His crackling knuckles were mixing with the beats of the contraption, turning with the metal spheres hung inside the ruby cylinder. It was Raqt the keeper of the soul revolver, his ageless face and blue eyes were those of a young prince, his black hair traveled on his face whenever he turned or bent to move something in the room. His fifty-four years of existence were summed by the contents of this room; his soul was born to be balanced between the ruby cylinder and the metal spheres. All he did was watch, balance, and control the soul revolver. His eyes whispered in silence black magic spells as the spheres converged, his eyes focused on the spheres with no movements of his lips, his eyes spoke and when his chant was spoken the spheres were scattered into blue flames. The room was dressed in blue, and in that second, the blue flames around the kingdom blinked at once, as though some rebellion army has come to free the darkness of the pathways. The small window of the room viewed blinks of blue and darkness every once in a while; youngsters of the kingdom watched the small window’s private show of fireworks with riding joy.
His eyes closed after each chant of silence, and occasionally he’d stroll between the bizarre contraption and the supply of marble, metal, and ruby spheres. The flames blinked again, oddly without any chant nor look of Raqt’s penetrating eyes. Some distant footsteps were climbing the staircase, slowly and gracefully each footstep following the beat of the contraption, their heavy sound caught Raqt’s attention, as he turned hastily with his blue eyes snapping towards the green flames blocking the passage towards his position. He watched with silence, as though he had no senses but his sight and earshot. He paused for a second waiting for the intruder to reach the top where Raqt’s eyes were fixed waiting.
The intruder stood there with a smile on his pale face, his black hair was loose and long, and his green eyes glittered with the clear reflection of Raqt painted in his eyes. His wide muscled arm stretched playfully, and his fingers teasingly tried to touch the green flames, with his eyes still fixed searching for an instant reaction. Raqt blinked at once, and the green flames diminished from the passage’s entrance, with his calm hollow voice he questioned, “When are you going to stop your childish games Sethron?” As the young man approached Raqt with steady footsteps, his smile drew a grin on Raqt’s calm face. “I was wondering when you’ll free yourself from the net you captured yourself with father”, he paused for a second as he turned to look at the marble spheres on the floor beneath him. “I haven’t seen you in days, what were up to?” he continued as he explored the room with his eyes. Raqt sat on the chair beside the wooden desk, sighed and closed his eyes for a second as he answered “I had to work to accomplish, the shadow levels were low a few days ago. I had to keep the soul revolver working son.” The contraption suddenly stopped when Raqt gazed at its main wooden key. The room was calm, as Sethron whistled some tune while he continuously touched the books and flipped their open pages. “Is there something I can do for you today, or will you fool around like a baby, you’re ought to be in the black forge by this hour.” Sethron paused stretched his huge body and sat at the other chair beside the wooden desk.
“I don’t know father, the Black forge hasn’t been as black as it has been in the past, odd things are happening. That day Unya visited us during a mental training, he watched us carefully. His eyes traveled between us as though he’s searching for the unknown, I would say not any unknown but a explicit unknown power he sought with his eyesight.” Sethron explained with his knuckles crackling spontaneously.
“I heard him asking Xein about the shadow levels, he seemed troubled by Xein’s attitude. I just sensed something odd when he looked at me, I felt as if I am threatened by his daring stares.” Sethron’s words changed his father’s calm expression.
“What did he ask Xein about the shadow levels?” Raqt asked promptly, as his eyes showed a great deal of anxiety, with a swift gesture of his hand his soft hair was moved away from his face.
“I don’t know father, I wish I knew.” Sethron exclaimed.
“For the first time in my life, I sensed fear and it isn’t fear that cuts my courage, it’s the knowledge of danger.” Sethron continued as anxiety took its final curve in his veins.
“I must leave now father, I shall meet Marcyulanis in an hour or so.” Sethron murmured as he turned to leave.
“Wait my boy, are you up to some mischief? I haven’t seen a day of good will when you and Marc get together. I hope you’ll spend your time peacefully.” Raqt replied cautiously. Sethron’s bouncy mischief was known to all those that dwelled the world of shadows, his reputation traveled in speed of light ahead of him. His impulsive acts of damage made Raqt worry about him, perhaps a bit more too much.
“Don’t worry, we’re not up to anything today, Marcyulanis promised to help his father encrypt the scrolls of eternity and wisdom. I shall help Marc in this task, you know how I can’t resist my passion, and magic scrolls are irresistible to a young fellow like me.” Sethron abruptly responded, his footsteps grew faster as he went down the stairs.
Raqt watched his eldest son leave wondering if his words were true, worries swept all over his senses ever since he heard about Unya’s peculiar behavior with Sethron. He returned to his marbles and spheres, he was unable to concentrate and the balls kept on converging and diverging never causing flames or a scene. He crawled into a corner where he kept his secret journal; he opened a new blank paper. His eyes looked at the blank paper, and thoughts began to match their molds on the white snow. The black inked words were far apart and sometimes unfinished, his eyes thought and wrote in unknown symbols what his soul hid of mysteries beneath.
Some of the youngsters were still watching the window, waiting for some excitement to break through. As the hours passed by with no sign of flames or sounds, their eyes grew grumpy and desperate for some change. After the long wait, they dragged their disappointment and went to play behind Tana’s house. All the youngsters were glad to pay Tana a visit for her home was a source of joy. The small shack she imprisoned herself in was inimitable; the silver windows were wrapped up with touches of black paint around the edges. The silver door had carvings of vine like creatures reaching for the sky and some bizarre symbols were engraved in red. The faint blue torches shed their blue luminosity on the door, the house looked like a pathway to heaven. With all the darkness around the kingdom, something was different about Tana’s house; the ecstasy of darkness was slaughtered at her doorstep. As anomalous as it may seem, people rarely caught Tana roaming the paths of the kingdom, rumors circled her house and stories shaped the vortex of her reality.
None of the young men in the kingdom visited her occasionally, except in the Wraith epoch. Each year had seven epochs where each shadow protector summons the power within him to reincarnate the Guardian domes’ forces. Some people believe that these are ancient legends, for no one has seen the guardian dome. Though the guardian dome has been an issue of debate in every social event or reunion, no one discovered the truth of this legend; no one ever dared to question or protest. No disputes were seen no one demanded explanations for the strange odd sounds coming from the soul revolver whenever Raqt was in there. Each morning miners would cut marbles into pieces, put it in the wooden carriages and deliver it to Raqt; some of the miners would come back with gossips they heard along the way. Others would come back telling their friends and family members how Raqt stood there in silence as they delivered the marble carriage into the underground warehouse. Each day the same story of Raqt’s black hair covering half of his face, his calm peace, no one was ever bored of hearing a new story of his silence or the taciturn look he gave them while they unloaded the marble shreds.
Not far away from the Soul Revolver, The Black Forge was built to train the shadow prophets, a lot of people preferred to call them the Black Phantoms for the name fitted their character, with their black and silver cloaks and pale faces. The huge building was crowded with the torches and scrolls arranged on the shelves. There were shelves everywhere in the hallways, passageways and offices, filled with scrolls, books, and journals. In the main hallway the ceiling had drawings of the six epochs along with the drawing of their protector, some words were written in warden scripts. It was more common for people to use the warden script, some of the youngsters were only taught how to read and write Warden. But old wise men knew other scripts, to them Warden was no substitute but no eye can witness it’s elimination, no voice can conquer the room with protest, “It is better to be alive silent, than earsplitting with the ghosts of death waiting.” Some of the wise men usually proclaim with a deep sigh when asked about how life is going.
The six drawn epochs seemed to spark whenever the torch’s light glowed. Some of the Black Phantoms used to say, the drawings are alive their eyes followed the Black Phantom’s footsteps everywhere. In the end of the crowded hallway, the huge shiny metal door was closed with the green flames; it was Xein’s office. His office was conventional with his simple wooden table along with some scrolls placed on the polished surface, and his black cloak had a line of red around its collar along with small warden symbols painted in blue. The cloak rested on the chair in front of his desk. Xein sat beside the shelves reading some scroll between his hands. His soft brown hair curled around his ears, and his fair white face had his brown eyes glittering with hope. He stood and returned the scroll to its place on the shelf, as he walked towards the window with his tall body leaning at the wall beside the window. He watched Marcyulanis and Sethron enter the gate of the Black Forge, “Finally what took them so long.” He whispered still looking from the window at the gate.
Some of the Black Phantoms paused immediately as they spotted Marcyulanis and Sethron enter the Forge with their speeding footsteps, as they passed by the torches blinked and some of them disappeared into smoke. They were wearing their black and silver cloaks, with their heads not turning a single inch, Sethron whispered, “We’re late, you know that? Your father may have the screams of hell lingering inside to unleash them upon our sight.” Marc smiled sheepishly, his light brown hair was covering his forehead. His hands were stiff and rigid; he kept his pace as he reached the end of the hallway. “Here it comes, Seth be patient” Marc warned, the green flames diminished quickly, as Marc reached for the doorknob he smiled “He knows we’re here”.
So what do u think so far
forre: This thread is for Island of Arts, so moving it. OK?