The Slave King 1st chapter w/cuts

[Damiynn]

The Slave King
Chapter 1
Birthing
Loriass Yematt, Supreme Highmage for the Elvynn Tua-latin war wizards, studied the swollen stomach of the pregnant human female, carefully, examining her for any defects. He knew from previous inspections there weren’t any, but did so just the same. Originally, there had been two parent slaves, but this female was the only one left. The best of the breeding slaves he had designed.

Generations of humans had gone into creating the child this female was bearing. The baby growing in her womb should be exceptional, for only a human. If his calculations were correct, one of the best he had ever conceived. Its gene stock had been derived from highest quality of slaves, tracing back three hundred years.

It had better be. With the execution of the parent father, for having been rebellious, there would not be any more breeding stock of his quality until this infant came of age.

Maldrith Renali, his Tua-latin second in command, came striding purposefully into the room. Her black and silver robes hissed softly, sounding like snakes scales, as they slid across the floor.

Carefully studying the woman lying on the bed with the swollen belly, she stated as much as said, “She still hasn’t had it yet Loriass? Are you sure there are no complications?”

“Nothing wrong with her,” responded the archmage, watching the panting woman. “The baby is just uncommonly strong for a newborn and it struggles to see the light of day. That is all.”

As if to prove him wrong, the woman lying on the bed gave an ear piercing scream and a torrent of blood erupted from between her legs in a bright red stream.

Loriass saw the flow and cursed heavily, knowing as well as losing his prime father he was about to lose the prime mother and possibly the baby if he didn’t act quickly.

Seizing the forces of creational magic that flowed like rivers throughout the palace of Talathandria, he quickly formed them into a stasis spell. Wrapping them around the human female, he made her immobile.

The beautiful slave looked awkward, her head was thrown back and the muscles of her neck exposed like taut ropes stretched under a thin cloth. Her eyes turned inward, showing only white and her back arched as far as it could go without snapping.

As fast as he had reacted, Maldrith acted even faster. Almost caught by his stasis spell, she slid her hands between the dying female slave’s bloody thighs. Clutching tightly at the newborn’s head, she prevented it from being choked. The female, she was sure was dead, but she would save this child. He was the epitome of their breeding program.

Calling on her own magic, Maldrith cast a spell onto the baby’s skin, making it as slippery as an oiled eel and pulled. With another burst of hemorrhaging blood shooting out of the almost dead female scribe slave’s body, she pulled it free. Taking it out of the coffin that had served as its bed a moment before.

Grabbing one of the silver dagger’s hanging at her side, she quickly sliced away the connecting tether of the newborn to its dying mother. The Elvynn archmage checked to see whether it was still alive as the female slave’s body shuddered in her death throes despite the stasis spell.

Wailing filled the room as the struggling human baby fought against her tight grip. Icy cold swept through Maldrith’s body as she held it in her hands. Staggering sideways like a drunk too long in her cups, she barely managed to hold onto the child as her innate powers of Prohecy flared to life. Just managing to set the child down before she found herself overwhelmed.

Blinding insight split her mind’s eye. Visions of war filled her sight. Thousands of dead bodies, of all races, littered a field surrounding a tall man with long curly dark hair. Around his feet was a broken chain, each link shattered. In one hand he wielded a magical sword. The blade glowed with silver light. His other was filled with a ball of crackling purefire. The sight amazed Maldrith. Only Elvynn were allowed to learn creational magic, much less wield it. Yet this ‘human was working the most powerful aspect of it. Tall figures began stepping through the bodies littering the ground around his feet. They knelt and bowed their heads in deference to him. Maldrith knew that these were the gods acknowledging a human as equal.

As fast as the vision came, it faded, but its’ passing left her reeling, its implications staggering. It took her a moment to recover but when she did she knew one thing. Somehow, this human baby lying on the table would be the man in that vision. The one who would break that silver chain, this babe would be the one who brought those fields littered with bodies and destruction into the world.

Eyes filling with dread, she rounded Loriass. Fear filled voice as she stuttered, “T…T.. This child should be put to death Loriass! It cannot be allowed to live. He will be the death of us all. I have seen it and it shall be so.” Spinning back around to the still wailing newborn she raised the bloody knife high into the air.

Loriass heard her damming words and saw her thin arms rise. He saw the results of his generations of human breeding about to be destroyed, and screamed, “Nooo!”
Maldrith ignored him.

He saw she wasn’t going to lower the knife or stop. Grabbing hold of all of the energy that he could gather, he hurled a force bolt across the room at the other Tua-latin wizard as the knife started to fall.

The force bolt hammered into the female Elvynn’s body with the force of a battering ram and blew her across the room.

Caught unprotected and unprepared, Maldrith crashed into one of the walls with a sickening thud. Her body slid down it and crumpled onto the floor in a heap of black and silver robes. Loriass had seen the look in her pale green eyes. He knew without a doubt that she would ever allow the infant lying on the table to survive longer than it would take for her to kill it.

Quickly, before she could recover and gather her own magical powers, the Highmage of the Tua-latin cast another stasis spell. He wrapped it around her body in coils of power and tightened the force lines until they froze her crumpled form in place. Knowing that he didn’t have long before she worked her way out of the spell, he hurriedly stepped over to a large rune-inscribed wall cabinet and waved his hand, saying the words needed to release the glyphs and wards.

Several white hot lights flared to life, brilliant flashes that would blind the eyes of the unsuspecting even though they knew his passwords. After they faded the magical cabinet that would have killed even him a moment before was safe to open. Loriass pulled on its large doors. Rows of magical items were stored on shelves, hooks and cupboards lining both sides of the interior in levels higher than he was tall. It was plain to see that the case was a larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. A small walkway appeared between the rows and the High war wizard stepped inside. Striding purposefully past all of it, he paid no attention whatsoever to any of the items, heading towards only one particular object.

A large sheathed sword stood at its far end, propped almost carelessly against one wall as if it had just been thrown there, like a piece of trash.

Loriass snatched up the sheathed blade and quickly stepped back out of the cabinet. As his fingers closed around the ancient dragon bone hilt of the creational Talisman sword known as spellbreaker, he immediately felt the tingle of the powerful sword’s magic. Without caring about the consequences of his actions, he drew out the long blade in a whistle of steel. Glittering runes flared to life along its length in an eerie luminescent glow.

This was the most powerful talisman ever created. Its hilt and guards were made out of the bones of a guardian dragon, mounted on a blade of pure mythryll, dwelven forged and crafted on Garn’s forge. Given its power by the planet itself. Cured in the same dwelven blood of the forger who created it, instead of water or wine. The endstone capping its hilt was a glittering gem of dragonseye, held in place by a magic-wrought filament of gold that enhanced its abilities. The hilt was wrapped in the pebbly scales of the same dragon that had given up its bones.

Spellbreaker was the only weapon ever made that could create purefire, the purest form of creational magic. Purefire rendered all other aspects of magic vulnerable. The magical sword had been designed to protect its user from magic and to shatter spells in order to kill war wizards. Its use was only allowed to one person. Only the Highmage of the Tua-latin was allowed to wield the powerful weapon of destruction.

Loriass cast the sheath aside and spun the perfectly balanced sword deftly in his hands. Carefully he went and stood over the crumpled form of Maldrith. Despite the strength of the spell he had cast, the powerful female war wizard was already starting to move.

The Elvynn female had turned her head enough to face him, got her knees under her and had almost managed to get her hands up.

Loriass, without a word to her, raised the glittering glowing blade high over his head just like she had done earlier with the dagger.

Unlike hers, his blade fell. Arcing through the air, the blazing sword crackling with white hot purefire plunged into the chest of the female war wizard.

It pierced all of her defensive spells as easily as a knife cuts through hot butter and ran completely through her. For a moment nothing happened, then white hot fire erupted out of the hole where the blade entered. Spiderwebbing around her body, it consumed her completely in an explosion of white hot energy.

The whole event lasted only a few moments. Nothing remained of Maldrith but smoldering black and silver robes. The powerful sword fell clattering out of Loriass’ drained and quivering fingers.

He wished with all of his heart that he hadn’t had to do what he had just done, but knew that there would have been no other way. It didn’t really matter to him that he had killed her, but it did matter that she wouldn’t be around to work with him any longer. She had been the best assistant he had ever had and they had spent years working together and knew each others habits so well that at times you could hardly tell them apart when working. But there was no way that he could let her destroy the fruits of his labor lying on the table.

Finally regaining the strength that the sword that had drawn from him, he staggered towards the crying baby lying on the birthing table. As he approached he knew somehow before his eyes saw it, something was wrong with the child. It wasn’t moving correctly.

Looking at what lay there his eyes went wide with disgust then dropped towards the floor, anguish and despair filling them. For all of his years of sacrifice, what lay on the table in front of him was beyond belief. What was even worse, both of the parent slaves had died and there couldn’t be any more children to make up for this one.

What was supposed to be the perfect human was nothing more than a worthless mess with a pitifully twisted deformed leg.

[Pravuil]

This is excellently wrought, I loved it. I enjoy reading works that differ completely from that of my own, but I couldn't help but notice one factor the likes of us have in common--the use of imagery, symbolism, props, setting the scene, etc. to, a some would say, existential level. The words flowed real well and were simeltaneously revealing as to the point the reader feels you're trying to convey. And you have the scene descriptions down to a point, with the whole eye-dividing portent and all. When I have more time I will quote the problems I found, as I found very few, and offer some friendly input. Until then, take care, and I really look forward to more of your works.

Best Regards,
Pravuil

[Damiynn]

Thanks p, this is something I have been working on the side while I have been waiting on my second book to come out, A King's Task. It is still part of the series but its set before the time of the banishment that I have mentioned while having the second book critiqued here. While humans and all the other races are still slaves of the Elvynn

[Pravuil]

Does your first book maintain the same writing style as what you have posted here? Just curious, if so I will have to look into the whole ordeal, your style makes reading all the more enjoyable. And now that I have time...I think I might delve into the few qualms I have with this side-story you posted.

Originally Posted by Damiynn

The force bolt hammered into the female Elvynn’s body with the force of a battering ram and blew her across the room.

I understand that this spell must have a proper name for which you refer to it, but the second force in that sentence isn't needed. I would ponder on changing the second force to the word 'impetus', this being the easiest solution I could conceive for this minor problem anyhow.

Originally Posted by Damiynn

He knew without a doubt that she would ever allow the infant lying on the table to survive longer than it would take for her to kill it.

I pondered on this sentence for a while wondering if the prose was meant to be one of such and get your mind to thinking. After about seven seconds I realized this was a typo and what I think you meant to type was 'never'.

Originally Posted by Damiynn

This was the most powerful talisman ever created. Its hilt and guards were made out of the bones of a guardian dragon, mounted on a blade of pure mythryll, dwelven forged and crafted on Garn’s forge. Given its power by the planet itself. Cured in the same dwelven blood of the forger who created it, instead of water or wine. The endstone capping its hilt was a glittering gem of dragonseye, held in place by a magic-wrought filament of gold that enhanced its abilities. The hilt was wrapped in the pebbly scales of the same dragon that had given up its bones.

This was a bit befuddling, but I came to the conclusion that it wouldn't be on Garn's forge, rather than 'In Garn's forge'. Doubtless, this could probably be debated.
Also, the term 'endstone' just sounds a bit underdone as it is, but that is a matter of taste. Personally, I would replace the word endstone with the word 'pommel'.

Originally Posted by Damiynn

The whole event lasted only a few moments. Nothing remained of Maldrith but smoldering black and silver robes. The powerful sword fell clattering out of Loriass’ drained and quivering fingers.

Another issue of taste here. If the sword is so powerful and laden in purefire, the most potent form of creational energy from what I can gather, one would think the robes would be reduced to A) mere ashes B)Nothingness. I just find it odd that the whole of the silk did smolder instead of being obliviated, but I can see where you're coming from in a drama/scene perspective.

All in all this is some inspiring work and regardless of my complaints and nitpicking I really enjoyed reading the piece. And I do look forward to reading more of this on the boards and critiquing to the best of my ability.

[Damiynn]

Thanks Prauv, thats definitely some things I will have to look at. In answer to your question about the book, it has a lot of the same and even got some really good reviews. I appreciate the insight.