Kyralih wrote:

Critique Request!

So this is a story I... well, lol, I have a billion ideas about the whys and the hows and the plot, but this really just happened by itself, and now i"m left trying to figure out the primary pieces; but anyway, it's not help on the plot I'd like, it's a critique on this prelude I'm after.

Primarily an interest factor - does it make you want to read more?

Find any glaring and unforgivable grammatical errors?

Does it keep you entertained throughout, or is there a section that's lacking some umph? (usually I find that a lack of umph is an overabundance of passive verbs, which I can change around and see how it goes.

^^ So, guildmates, what are your thoughts?

She openly winced as the door hinges creaked, knowing that the occupants of the house had heard the squeaking noise and would be on to her soon, but rather than risk discovery out in the open, she crept inside the dwelling and closed the noisy door behind her. Berating herself for causing another disturbance, she nevertheless continued, walking tensely towards the wooden stairs on the right. Her eyes moved constantly from object to object, her senses open for even the slightest hint that someone – besides herself – was lurking in the shadows.

The room she had entered was aglow with beams from the full moon, giving everything an ivory halo and a black shadow. Comfortable arm chairs were arranged before a fireplace, small tables boasted vases of summer flowers, the rug below was littered with toys meant for small children: miniature horses, a wooden play-house, cloth dolls, even a tiny wooden sword. The stairs were fast approaching; she’d have to worry about their protestation next. With one foot raised in the air, about to attempt the doubtlessly noisy feat, she saw from the corner of her eye a figure standing very near to her. Slowly she turned her gaze upon it and couldn’t help jumping backwards in surprise, barely avoiding a great, tell-tale fall.

As she moved away from the stairs, however, the pale figure disappeared. Curiously she stepped forward again and felt a fool. It was just a mirror; she had been frightened by her own reflection. She took a moment to study herself, her glass twin’s red-irised eyes staring back at her as she ran a hand through her short-cropped crimson hair in a futile attempt to tame the wild mess. Giving up, she pulled a bottom eyelid down and examined blood-shot eyes. “I’m tired,” she thought and saucily stuck her tongue out at her reflection before returning to the challenge of the stairs.

Though the stairs were a trial, they weren’t nearly as difficult as they could’ve been. Before taking a step she checked for any creaky spots by looking or a worn-in area and then testing her weight on a straight section – usually the area right beside the wall. Using this method, it only took her a minute to make it up the ten stairs and into the hallway above. On cat’s feet she crept pass two closed doors and paused by the third. Its door stood open, moonlight streaming through two windows and landing on three occupied beds. One bed stood empty in the corner. She watched the young girls slumber peacefully, a smile inching across her face. Her eyes stung, her lids felt heavy. Gingerly she sauntered over to the empty bed, the covers pulled back as if waiting expectedly for her. She shucked off her boots quietly as she walked and quickly collapsed onto the comfortable mattress. She fell asleep almost as soon as she had pulled the covers over her; however, she did not get to rest for long.

“Terrawyn!” a voice hissed in the darkness of her confused and sleepy mind. She decided to ignore it and go back to sleep.

“Terrawyn!” the whisper persisted.

“Terrawyn, wake up!” another whispery voice demanded as she felt a finger prod her side.

“C’mon Wyn, wake up! Please? Wyn!!”


“Shh! Don’t wake Papa up!”

“He’s gonna find out she’s here anyway! I wanna talk to Wyn now!”

“Any more out of you, Jenna, and I’ll tell Mama it was you that took Bran’s banket!”

“But I didn’t!”

“So? Mama doesn’t know that.”

“Mama’ll know you’re lying!!”

“Will you be quiet?!”

“Not til you promise not to tell Mama I tooked Bran’s blankey!”

“Will you all shut up already?” she finally stated, unable to fall asleep with their hissing whispers in her ear, “I’m sleepy. Go away.”

“But – ”

“Wyn! We wanna know where you’ve been! And why’s your hair all red?” her youngest sister, Jenna, was the first figure she saw when she opened her eyes. She was a tiny girl, barely four years old, with soft brown eyes and long brown hair. Those eyes widened in shock – probably at seeing the red irises that now were staring back at her. The visitor rolled over off her stomach and sat up, staring at the three girls skeptically.

“I’ve been away. Now I’m back, now I’m tired, and I can tell you everything else tomorrow. Let me sleep.”

“Wow, her eyes are red, too!” the middle child of the three exclaimed in awe – it was she, Clara, who was threatening Jenna before. She looked much like Jenna, except her eyes were green, like their father’s, and her hair was just a shade darker. ‘Like my hair used to be…’ self-consciously she pulled a lock of her hair forward, a strange clicking sound set off as her thumb and forefinger grabbed a bright red bit. She stared up at it for a second, taking in the brightness of its color – the three girls had lit a candle – then let it go and flopped back down onto the bed, pulling the covers up over her head as she did so.

“I’m going to sleep now, whether you three like it or not, and I’m not saying another word until I wake up by my own accord,” she stressed the last three words, hoping they would take them to heart and wait until she woke up rather than they taking it upon themselves to. Soon after that the candle was blown out and creaking from other beds informed her that her sisters were asleep. She peeled the covers back off of her head and looked at the ceiling.

‘Terrawyn… that was my name before… before…’ again she plucked at her cropped, fluffy hair, seeing a red glare in the darkness where the moonlight reflected. The clicking had sounded again… She raised her hand up above her head, her hair falling back into place, and watched tiny red lights dance across the ceiling. Slowly she turned her hand over and saw again the small red gems that littered her palm and went up her fingers. Both of her hands were like that, normal on one side, covered in miniscule crimson crystals on the other. They weren’t rubies, but something else, something harder, something even more durable… her hand fell back to the mattress and she dragged it under the covers for her sister’s sake – who knew what they’d think if they saw them before she explained.

She fell asleep again, exhaustion conquering her musing.



She awoke sometime the next afternoon – late afternoon, she guessed from the shadows – and was once again face-to-face with Jenna. “Uh, hi?” she sleepily greeted and sat up, her hand holding her forehead. “What time… is it.” Her question was never answered – she had just gotten through the first two words when Jenna darted from the room yelling “She’s awake! She’s awake! Mama! Wyn’s up!”

She should have known Jenna was a lookout, and now she bet everyone in the neighborhood knew she was awake – not to mention back. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, knocking over her boots that someone, probably her mother, had placed there for her. She stretched languidly and was still stretching when much of her family burst into the room.

“Terrawyn, honey!” her mother exclaimed, her toddling brown-haired brother Bran perched on her hip. The woman bustled over, going between Jenna and Clara, and sat beside her on the bed. “We’ve been so worried about you!” she cried as she hugged her with the arm not supporting the baby.

“’Bout time you woke up; you’ve been sleeping almost all day!” Dalion, her brother that was her junior by two years, stated accusingly, but his eyes told her he wanted to hear what had happened as much as everyone else did. “Where have you been, anyway?” ‘Ha, caught him.’

“She can tell everyone where she’s been at supper. Clara, Nyssa, go set the table please. Remember, 9 settings.”

“How could we forget? Jeez Mom, we’ve been talking about her all day,” Clara declared as the two left the room.

“Dalion, could you – “

“Get Terrawyn’s chair, right?” the teenager stated, rolling his eyes, “I knew you’d ask. It’s already there.”

“Oh, well thanks for that. Now go feed the dog like I was about to ask you to.”

Dalion’s jaw dropped as he looked incredulously at his mother, and then just walked away.

“Jenna could you go put away your toys, dear?”

“Okay… but I wanna sit by Wyn at the table!”

“Alright, alright. Hurry up and put those toys away.” The tiny girl shot off. There was a banging, booming noise, ominous to the sound of crying – Jenna obviously just crashed down the stairs. They waited, she and her mother, tensely for the outburst, Bran picking at the blanket, but it never came. Or, rather, it did, but it was an outburst of insane laughing. They relaxed. “Are you back for good?” her mother asked softly, her eyes downcast. Below them sounds of supper, of laughing happy children, floated to them. She relished in the sound before she gave her answer.

“No.”

There was a pause.

“How long?”

“I leave tomorrow.”


Her mother nodded her head slowly. “Alright.” She stood, supporting the young boy, and walked to the door, her long skirt swishing. “I’d better get supper on the table – I bet you’re hungry. You look clean, but if you’d like a quick bath before supper – “

“I’m fine, thanks,” she interjected, not wanting to trouble anyone and, in fact, she had bathed just two nights ago at an inn. She could still smell the lavender soap.

“Oh, okay. Then dinner will probably be on the table when you get downstairs. Everything was just waiting for you to get up.” Her mother, standing tall and proud like she remembered her to, paused in the door, “We missed you, Terrawyn.”

She found her clothes exactly where she’d left them, still in her dresser, folded neatly by her mother and smelling like the brisk, clean air of early spring or late winter. Having discarded her travel-weary clothes – a pair of brown breeches with marching tunic and undershirt – she hastily and thankfully slipped into the stronger, cleaner, ‘newer’ clothes she had left behind, this time choosing a similar fashion in different colors. She was surprised at how oddly it fit her – loose in places she’d lost weight, tighter in places she’d gained a little muscle, but overall it was an okay fit and the mirror mounted on the wall showed her that it didn’t look half bad, though the green tunic accompanied with her fiery locks reminded her strongly of winter holly. Thoughts of wintertime thrust aside, she quietly left the room.

Dinner that night wasn’t what she’d expected, but then being awkward doesn’t really come into play until one is about eleven, thus two of her sisters – the most talkative – had no problem with treating her as if she’d never left… well, most along the lines that she’d been gone for a week rather than 3 months. The food was wonderful – she hadn’t expected anything less from her mother. She’d had home-cooked meals throughout most of her time away, but she could taste the love baked into this bread. The conversation focused mainly on what Derran Ilder did to Clara and how she would get him back and questions about when Wyn could tell her story (which was, time and again, answered to be ‘after supper.’).

Her father and older brother came home a bit late and were each greeted with enthusiastic hugs from Jenna as she burst to tell them that Wyn was awake, see? She wasn’t kidding, her hair was red, they should see her weird eyes, and that they were having chicken and mashed potatoes tonight (those two dishes offered because chicken was the main meat and potatoes were her favorite). It was then that she really appreciated her little sister, who kept her father and brother’s prying, questioning eyes off of her as they were forced to answer questions about work. The break didn’t last long.

When dinner was done, as Clara and Nyssa cleared the table, the rest of them, minus her mother who began to furiously knock out dirty dishes (she had dish-washing down to a fine, quick art), moved into the sitting room. Her father, a tall, strong man with brown hair that was just beginning to grey and sharp green eyes, took one of the chairs by the fireplace, turning it away from the empty grate and towards her. Her older brother did the same. Dalion took a chair from the table and sat in that, Jenna took to the floor and looked up at her with eager eyes. She took a seat in a padded chair just as Clara ran in, slid, and clumsily sat beside Jenna, Nyssa joining calmly after.

‘How do I start? Where’s a good place to begin?’ she was gripping the arms of her seat – no one had seen the gems yet and she wondered if she should just start off by showing it to them and wait for their questions. Everyone was quiet. Bran murmured from his playpen but slumbered on. They were all waiting for her to begin; she was waiting for a way to start.

“Well?” Dalion prompted after a minute of complete silence. “Are you going to tell us or do we have to drag it out of you?”

“Leave her alone, Dalion,” their mother interjected as she sat down in a chair left open for her, “let her speak.”

“I don’t know where to begin,” she confessed quietly.

“The beginning is always a good place.”



Chapter 1.

Wow This is wow. I do want to read more. I kind of need to know about those crystals now...thanks funny funny dreams ahead for ed, oh well. The only thing I saw is

Sailor Uranus wrote:

“Wyn! We wanna know where you’ve been! And why’s your hair all read?”

that I think you mean red the color not read as in I read a book. I could be off I dunno.

Anyway the flow is good I think over all and the story does catch ones attention well enough. I'm guessing this is written more for a teenaged audience? Or will it grow later on? It's still good! I can't wait to read more.

radicaledward124 wrote:

Wow This is wow. I do want to read more. I kind of need to know about those crystals now...thanks funny funny dreams ahead for ed, oh well. The only thing I saw is

Sailor Uranus wrote:

“Wyn! We wanna know where you’ve been! And why’s your hair all read?”

that I think you mean red the color not read as in I read a book. I could be off I dunno.

Anyway the flow is good I think over all and the story does catch ones attention well enough. I'm guessing this is written more for a teenaged audience? Or will it grow later on? It's still good! I can't wait to read more.

I know we're talking about this on Skype already, but I just wanted to say again,

THAAAANK YOU!!!

And bahahaha, yeah, I meant 'red'; fixed it! ^^ Thank you for your comments about the flow! I try hard to make it sound natural. ^^ And yes! I was actually thinking teenage audience when originally writing this! Not that it will make it simpler, just that I think it might appeal to the teenage audience more ^^'

No problem!! Glad to help! I really can't wait to read more. And as you know, I did have funny funny dreams!

I'll leave you some critique soon too, Kyra!

Wow. You write like Marissa Meyer! And I love her! <3

I noticed some spelling errors, and I honestly got so lost in the story that I've kind of forgotten where they were. 

“Not til you promise not to tell Mama I tooked Bran’s blankey!”

Did you really mean the word tooked there? It's the only error that really sticks out for me. 

You really kept my interest during the entire story, which is hard to do. I'm a fickle reader and get distracted very easily. I'm looking forward to seeing more of this story. You are such an amazing writer, Uranus!

Natasha wrote:

Wow. You write like Marissa Meyer! And I love her! <3

I noticed some spelling errors, and I honestly got so lost in the story that I've kind of forgotten where they were. 

“Not til you promise not to tell Mama I tooked Bran’s blankey!”

Did you really mean the word tooked there? It's the only error that really sticks out for me. 

You really kept my interest during the entire story, which is hard to do. I'm a fickle reader and get distracted very easily. I'm looking forward to seeing more of this story. You are such an amazing writer, Uranus!

        *flail dance*   XD I'm glad you liked it!! As for the "tooked" business, I was attempting to be all "yeah, that's a toddler," but is it too heavy handed? I tend to go a little overboard with past tense mess-ups when writing little kids x.x 


...and speaking/thinking of, I might have a rather large chapter thing up sometime soon on another story I wrote forever ago and might start working on again because I love the characters and have had the general plot worked out for forever and the husband just read and liked which makes me think "ooh, maybe I do have something here" ((That's my problem. "Oh! I like how this one reads! I could work on this one again! (five minutes later)..... Oh! Look at this one! --" etc. ^^'))

I would say it's a little heavy handed. I think a good way to get to know how a toddler talks is to either talk to one, or better yet, youtube those little monsters and see how they talk differently from us! 

I would love to read that story! You should post it here! I honestly think you are an amazing writer. =D