The Aurora

[Shruti]

Part 1:

Gabriel:

The darkness loomed in front of me and I blacked out for a second. I opened my eyes slowly, rubbing them to see clearly. What was I doing here? I looked around. I was in an orchard, canopies of trees filtering the sunlight to reflect a greenish-golden glow around in the summer air. The place didn’t feel familiar, there was an odd emptiness to it.
“Rhys, child?” A warm hand caressed my head.
I turned around to look back at her.
“Why did you give me asylum, Ghislaine?” I asked her.
“Is there a reason not to?”
“Don’t you see the way everyone treats me? Don’t you feel the same way too?” I asked bitterly.
“They are intimidated by you. They haven’t been around a person of your character, child and that scares them.”
“You haven’t answered my question yet.”
“I took you in because you were special and I couldn’t let any harm come your way, could I?”
“Thank you. Is there any way I can pay you back?” I whispered.
“You know how.”
“I cannot risk it. I’m not Rhys anymore. I have a new identity. I do not want to leave Jihilm. This is my home now.”
“Hiding behind a new name isn’t going to help you forget, or forgive. You need to let go of the past and go on this quest.”
“There are hundreds of others capable of fulfilling it.”
“Yes, but only one with a motive to fulfill it.”
“What motive?”
Ghislaine dropped a ring into my hands. It was a thin band of gold with ‘A’ etched into it.
“Where did you get this?” I looked up at her.
“I found it when I came to get you.”
“ I miss her so much!” I said. A single tear trickled down my cheek.
Ghislaine placed her hand on my shoulder.
“ They would all have gone away someday too, my child.”
“ I will find her. It is a promise that I have made to myself.”
“ Days change, Rhys. Are you still willing to look for her?”
“ Yes, I am sure.”
“ Then, my child, I will give you my blessing.”
“ Is there any news of…?”
“ I’m sorry, Rhys but this news won’t change. Your mother has passed on.”
“ And of Theodora?”
“ The same for her.” Ghislaine bowed her head.
“ Miranda, my old nurse?”
“ No whereabouts, I’m sorry.”
“ Alexandria is the only one left?”
“ And you too, my child. You are no ordinary young lad, you know that.”
I looked up at Ghislaine resolutely.
“ I will leave Jihilm to look for Alexandria this instant!”
Ghislaine stopped me.
“ Wait. You need to fulfill this quest before you look for Alexandria.”
“ I beg of you, Ghislaine, please.” I pleaded.
“ I have compromised enough. Do as you are asked to.”
Ghislaine’s words stung. She was seldom rude. Her harsh words indicated the importance of the mission.
I trudged back to my quarters slowly, passing the fields of training warriors. As I walked past, a hushed silence fell across the fields. Heads turned and soon, whispers flooded the air.
“ Look at the lunatic! Sits in the orchards all day like a King, ordering Ghislaine about!”
A couple of them cackled.
“ What did you say his name was?”
“ Gabriel?”
“ I don’t recall any King or Prince of that name!”
A few of the girls smirked.
A hand pulled me away.
“ What do you think you were doing there?”
I sighed.
“ You’re the only one keeping me sane here, Trissy.”
“ Ghislaine’s orders, boss.” She laughed.
Trissy walked me all the way to my quarters, stopping often to greet friends and acquaintances. Once inside, she began bundling up provisions for my quest.
“ Do I need all that?”
“ You don’t know how long you’ll be gone. It’s a long way.”
She paused suddenly and looked at me.
“ Are you alright, Rhys?”
“ My name is Gabriel.” I corrected.
“ A confused look crossed her face.
“ Are you alright?” she repeated.
“ I have forgotten what it means, Trissy, ever since I saw that wretch’s face.”
Isadora:

“ Midnight’s lacy wings, darkness deep, shallow truth,
Into the cauldron I will put,
Stir, stir, stir.

Flight, fight, treachery,
Ray of light, shadows gloom,
Boil, boil, boil.

Blood and earth, mixed in woe,
Daggers sharp, dew of gems,
So shall thy life go”

I looked at the sheet of paper lying on my dresser. The words were written in a strange, red ink. I lifted the paper to my nostrils and inhaled a coppery tang. It smelled like fresh blood. I untangled myself from  the sheets and plodded down the wooden stairs softly. There were only two women in the meeting hall, my mother with a  client. This wasn’t her work then. She dealt only with the netherworld of spirit, prophecies were not in her field of interest. The client turned towards me and smiled haltingly. She shifted slightly, her tunic revealing a fresh cut across her wrist. I gasped. My mother turned towards me and gave me a sharp look.
“ Excuse her impertinence, Levitra, she’s a little incompetent for her age.”
I slinked back upstairs and waited for her to come. She did come, an hour later, brandishing a thin, gleaming dagger in her hand.
“ You’re old enough to know how to behave.”
“ I haven’t done anything!” I protested.
“ Not wielding spirit is reason enough.” She said gruffly.
“But I can!”
She snorted. “ Don’t feed me these lies. Hold out your arm.”
“ For what?”
“ Do as I say!” she bellowed.
I cowered behind the bed.
“ Hiding only increases the punishment.”
I came out of my hiding place reluctantly.
“ Hold out your arm!” she repeated.
I extended my arm a little and shut my eyes.
She pulled my arm out roughly and slashed twice. Thin red welts covered my wrist. Satisfied, she stormed out of the attic, shutting the door behind her with a loud bang. With the other hand, I tore out a piece of cloth and tied it around the wound over a layer of salve.
The sheet of the prophecy lay crumpled where I had thrown it in exasperation. I smoothed it out and lay it on the dresser again, reading the lines over and over again, looking for a hidden clue. In all those nine lines, there was only a single word that made sense to me.

[LateToTheParty]

Part 1:

Gabriel:

The darkness loomed in front of me and I blacked out for a second. I opened my eyes slowly, rubbing them to see clearly. What was I doing here? I looked around. I was in an orchard, canopies of trees filtering the sunlight to reflect a greenish-golden glow around in the summer air. The place didn’t feel familiar, there was an odd emptiness to it. (Opening with a protag waking or coming-to is cliched. You do little or nothing to set us up for th dialogue that follows. Without character/name/situation we don't know who's talking, about what or why we should care.)
“Rhys, child?” A warm hand caressed my head.
I turned around to look back at her.
“Why did you give me asylum, Ghislaine?” I asked her.
“Is there a reason not to?”
“Don’t you see the way everyone treats me? Don’t you feel the same way too?” I asked bitterly.
“They are intimidated by you. They haven’t been around a person of your character, child and that scares them.”
“You haven’t answered my question yet.” (After eleven lines you haven't answered our questions either. We need a handle on your protag for him/her/it to become OUR protag.)
“I took you in because you were special and I couldn’t let any harm come your way, could I?”
“Thank you. Is there any way I can pay you back?” I whispered.
“You know how.”
“I cannot risk it. I’m not Rhys anymore. I have a new identity. I do not want to leave Jihilm. This is my home now.”
“Hiding behind a new name isn’t going to help you forget, or forgive. You need to let go of the past and go on this quest.”
“There are hundreds of others capable of fulfilling it.”
“Yes, but only one with a motive to fulfill it.”
“What motive?”
Ghislaine dropped a ring into my hands. It was a thin band of gold with ‘A’ etched into it.
“Where did you get this?” I looked up at her.
“I found it when I came to get you.”
“ I miss her so much!” I said. A single tear trickled down my cheek.(This is a dead and done clichee.)
Ghislaine placed her hand on my shoulder.
“ They would all have gone away someday too, my child.”
“ I will find her. It is a promise that I have made to myself.”
“ Days change, Rhys. Are you still willing to look for her?”
“ Yes, I am sure.”
“ Then, my child, I will give you my blessing.”
“ Is there any news of…?”
“ I’m sorry, Rhys but this news won’t change. Your mother has passed on.”
“ And of Theodora?”
“ The same for her.” Ghislaine bowed her head.
“ Miranda, my old nurse?”
“ No whereabouts, I’m sorry.”
“ Alexandria is the only one left?”
“ And you too, my child. You are no ordinary young lad, you know that.”
I looked up at Ghislaine resolutely.
“ I will leave Jihilm to look for Alexandria this instant!”
Ghislaine stopped me.
“ Wait. You need to fulfill this quest before you look for Alexandria.”
“ I beg of you, Ghislaine, please.” I pleaded.
“ I have compromised enough. Do as you are asked to.”
Ghislaine’s words stung. She was seldom rude. Her harsh words indicated the importance of the mission.
I trudged back to my quarters slowly, passing the fields of training warriors. As I walked past, a hushed silence fell across the fields. Heads turned and soon, whispers flooded the air.
“ Look at the lunatic! Sits in the orchards all day like a King, ordering Ghislaine about!”
A couple of them cackled.
“ What did you say his name was?”
“ Gabriel?”
“ I don’t recall any King or Prince of that name!”
A few of the girls smirked.
A hand pulled me away.
“ What do you think you were doing there?”
I sighed.
“ You’re the only one keeping me sane here, Trissy.”
“ Ghislaine’s orders, boss.” She laughed.
Trissy walked me all the way to my quarters, stopping often to greet friends and acquaintances. Once inside, she began bundling up provisions for my quest.
“ Do I need all that?”
“ You don’t know how long you’ll be gone. It’s a long way.”
She paused suddenly and looked at me.
“ Are you alright, Rhys?”
“ My name is Gabriel.” I corrected.
“ A confused look crossed her face.
“ Are you alright?” she repeated.
“ I have forgotten what it means, Trissy, ever since I saw that wretch’s face.”
Isadora:

“ Midnight’s lacy wings, darkness deep, shallow truth,
Into the cauldron I will put,
Stir, stir, stir.

Flight, fight, treachery,
Ray of light, shadows gloom,
Boil, boil, boil.

Blood and earth, mixed in woe,
Daggers sharp, dew of gems,
So shall thy life go”

I looked at the sheet of paper lying on my dresser. The words were written in a strange, red ink. I lifted the paper to my nostrils and inhaled a coppery tang. It smelled like fresh blood. I untangled myself from  the sheets and plodded down the wooden stairs softly. There were only two women in the meeting hall, my mother with a  client. This wasn’t her work then. She dealt only with the netherworld of spirit, prophecies were not in her field of interest. The client turned towards me and smiled haltingly. She shifted slightly, her tunic revealing a fresh cut across her wrist. I gasped. My mother turned towards me and gave me a sharp look.
“ Excuse her impertinence, Levitra, she’s a little incompetent for her age.”
I slinked back upstairs and waited for her to come. She did come, an hour later, brandishing a thin, gleaming dagger in her hand.
“ You’re old enough to know how to behave.”
“ I haven’t done anything!” I protested.
“ Not wielding spirit is reason enough.” She said gruffly.
“But I can!”
She snorted. “ Don’t feed me these lies. Hold out your arm.”
“ For what?”
“ Do as I say!” she bellowed.
I cowered behind the bed.
“ Hiding only increases the punishment.”
I came out of my hiding place reluctantly.
“ Hold out your arm!” she repeated.
I extended my arm a little and shut my eyes.
She pulled my arm out roughly and slashed twice. Thin red welts covered my wrist. Satisfied, she stormed out of the attic, shutting the door behind her with a loud bang. With the other hand, I tore out a piece of cloth and tied it around the wound over a layer of salve.
The sheet of the prophecy lay crumpled where I had thrown it in exasperation. I smoothed it out and lay it on the dresser again, reading the lines over and over again, looking for a hidden clue. In all those nine lines, there was only a single word that made sense to me.

Dialogue, like violence or romance is a seasoning for the conflict, which is the meat of your story. I have no idea who/what/where/when/why. You need to anchor this around your protag and his name and then spin out. Buona fortuna.

[MrsMcDowell]

Shruti, honestly...

For me, there is NO SUCH THING as over-usage. And I think people get that and cliche mixed up. Chliche's are typically overused phrases. I don't know if actions can count as cliches. I have a rule against rules (which is this "don't start your book with a character waking up" thing), and that is to smash them with a hammer. Just toss them out the window.

You want to start your book with someone waking up, do it. But do it in a way that no one ever has or rarely has.

So. Here's my suggestion:

"Darkness found its way into every corner of my brain. When I awakened, I looked around cautiously. What was I doing here? An orchard--canopies of trees filtered the sunlight, reflecting a green-gold glow in the summer air. Nothing about it felt familiar; an odd emptiness surrounded me and everything."

Just something to get you started. For what it's worth, I found this interesting. And I think positive insight is way better than negative insight that gives you no idea how to fix issues.

My suggestion is to narrow your usage of adverbs to one or (at the most) two per page. These pesky little description words that end in -ly are the bane of my existence (besides "said" tags, of course). Go through and see if you can remove these and add in actions to describe the way someone is doing or saying something in a scene.

Bottom line. If you like what you've done, and you think it works, give it to some beta readers (people you don't know who won't be worried about hurting your feelings). This includes those who write and those who read. If those beta readers like it, don't change it unless it make sense to you.

[EJ]

Hi Shruti,

I agree that there are issues with the dialogue. First of all it was too lengthy for me and didn't seem anchored. Adding in body tags, expressions etc. will richen the story and let your reader experience it in a multi-sensory way.

As for comments about cliches - it's true you should watch for them BUT some best seller novels also contain so called cliches. For example the first chapter of The Hunger Games starts with Katniss waking up. (My current WIP starts with the protagonist waking up and I did that knowing you're not supposed to). Just write what feels true to you and the story.

Good start!

[MrsMcDowell]

I did that knowing you're not supposed to...

Not supposed to... Not supposed to...

There's this strange ringing in my head.

WHO made up these "rules" about what we're not supposed to do as writers? I find them pedantic and downright irrelevant. We can do whatever we want! What's gonna happen if we do? Are we going to get punished? If so, bring it.

[greenland]

IMO dialog is a bit too long - and I also want to see people who are talking, their facial expressions and their movements, want to hear their voices. Otherwise - sounds interesting.

[MrsMcDowell]

I also just remembered something, everyone...

Didn't Evangeleon start with Shinji waking up? Okay, I don't think that's the BEST example, but the series was huge, and they did a great job at it. I remember, because one of the best lines of the series was after he woke up in a hospital bed and said, "Another unfamiliar ceiling."

[Shruti]

Dear All,

Thank you so much for taking out the time to read my sample and for being nice enough to point out my mistakes. I'm glad that you'll critiqued it because I'd rather it be you than an inbox full of rejected queries! Negative or not, I'm glad of any criticism because I'm only 17. I have a lot to learn from all of you and I'd be glad of any further help and criticism! As for cliches, I'd like to stick to what I'm comfortable with but I'll try to avoid them if I can. Thanks once again! 

[LateToTheParty]

Write hard, come back strong. We'll wait. BTW, your maturity is refreshing. Have a karma kookie, you're good peeps. 

[Shruti]

Thank you