Into the Shadows : Big Jump in the story

[shadowbox]

I had settled quickly into this life, as easily as my father had. True, it it is not so hard to find yourself accustom to luxury, but it was more then that. Calbien was a peculiar man, a peculiar husband, charming one moment, and vicious the next. I had known such feelings, and I worried for him. Too long I had lived with my own secrets, ever at odds with myself, with the darkness that seemed to fill me. Worse yet, those maddening shadows that flowed inside me as a child, welled like a tide in his presence, a constant ebb and flow of fearful torment. With nothing but a glance, he brought forth desires so dark they lift me ill and shamefully sated.

Though adamant on leaving me without heir, as of the moment anyway, Calbien was a man. Our nuptials were new, and still wholly unconsummated, leaving a tension in the air no blade could cut.

A month had passed, to the day, since our wedding, when we dined together for the first time, in our new home. It had been a wedding gift from Calbien, a Town house, near enough to the palace, and more importantly to my Father. I expressed no ill will toward moving to the Duchy de Lumiere, but he knew I would chafe at it.

"Brenadine." Calbien said, his tongue wrapping around the syllables of my name as if were a song. "Is all well?"

"It is." I replied, pushing my plate away. "The house is beautiful, Calbien, truly it is."

He regarded me with a stare bent on melting resolve. "And yet you are unhappy."

"It is not that I am unhappy, my lord. I don't know. It is hard to explain what it is I am feeling, when I scant understand it myself." I released a heavy sigh, to tired to bother dissembling. "I am ever at war with myself. The two halves of my whole, they no longer seem to fit." I shook my head, sending white curls a flurry. "That doesn't make sense, does it?"

He snapped his fingers, summoning the servants from the kitchen. "It doesn't have too, my love. If it is what you are feeling, it is enough to matter." He said. "Your father said you were never blessed, perhaps this is the reason."


Until that moment, I hadn't given thought to what Calbien might know of me. "My origins are unknown, so the Hithrian Priestess bid my father wait till I reached my fifth year to be blessed." I began, painting the picture in my own mind. "When that day came, father brought me back to the temple. I stood before the priestess, listening to her prayer, but as her hand touched me, I near-fainted, crumpling to the floor in a painful, burning heap. I had to be carried out. The Priestess said it was the cinnamon, in the oil, that burned as she touched me."

He sipped his wine, regarding his glass instead of me. "You doubt this?"

"Why should I?" I asked.

He didn't answer, but merly flicked his wrist, dismissing the servants as they cleared the table.


"Come here, Brenadine." He said, his like honey, but for the undertone of menace. Without a moments thought, I obeyed, quickly finding myself at his side. He smiled, pulling me to his lap like a child. "Such a simple gesture makes you blush?" He asked.


"As I have said, I am ever at odds with myself." I whispered, feeling uncomfortably close to him. He wrapped his broad hands about my waist, pulling me closer. Rising tides of blackness filled me, bringing me to the point of delicious madness I so frequently fought.

"I begin to understand."He said, before kissing me.

If my hands pressed against his chest, and they did, it did not stop me from returning his kiss with a sudden frantic need. In a seconds span of time, I saw the darkness that plagued me take new form. My heart beat in my chest like the wings of a caught bird, and it wasn't till Calbien's head snapped backwards did the madness break.


Blood trickled from his mouth, down his chin. I licked my lips finding them salty and metallic. I had bit him, and worst yet, I had liked it.


Suddenly mortified, I pulled away from him. "I am so sorry, my lord!" I gasped, covering my face in shame. "I didn't mean too."


He freed my hands, with gentle ease, kissing the tips of my fingers. "Oh, I think you did." He laughed, pulling me back to him. "As I have said, my love, I begin to understand."

[dustinzgirl]

OK I'm confused, is this part of everything else?

[shadowbox]

It is, but it takes place WAY into the story. Pretty much when she realizes what she is. Right after she marries. And actually, I have a better plan for all of it. I want to remove some of the sexual connotations, but I still need the whole she bit him when they kissed factor.

[AlexM]

I ain't good at critiquing, nor am I relying on what I think. But in the first sentence:

I had settled quickly into this life, as easily as my father had. True, it it is not so hard to find yourself accustom to luxury, but it was more then that

I may be wrong, but wouldn't it be than?

He didn't answer, but merly flicked his wrist, dismissing the servants as they cleared the table.

Is merly ment to be merely?

He said, his like honey, but for the undertone of menace.

I have to say the 'his like honey' kind of doesn't flow to me :S

"I begin to understand."He said, before kissing me.

I don't know I mean I personally think a space should go in between " and He.


Anyway, though I am not much of a fan of first person I DID however enjoy this, it intrigued me in a way. I couldn't find the beginning of your story so I just skipped to here. Good luck with it and looking forward to reading more in the future

[shadowbox]

I totally forgot the word voice in once sentence. I will say that this is pretty much crap, and the other things I have up and posted are better, and more well-worded. And make more freaking sense. Into the Shadows posted on November 19th is sort of an intro, and with the help of many, I have worked into a piece I actually have come to like. I have something new on Into the Shadows: Chapter One. Thanks though. And, don't doubt yourself so much when your critiquing, you were right on the money!


as for the First Person thing, your not the only one! I have been getting so much grief about doing this in first person, but I can't imagine any one other then Bernadine telling her story. I like to think that when I write I very nearly take on the personality of my character, if only for the moments spent writing. Therefore, I must write in the first person, I see no other way!

[Boneman]

Shadow, having followed your writing around these threads, I would say that you are getting it right! That lyrical prose that you had in your opening is really evident here also, and it's coming over so well, that it's not shouted at us, it seems to fit in naturally. And don't be so hard on yourself - that's our job! Someone said we are our own hardest critics, and what you are putting up is not crap. If it were, nobody would critique it, we'd just ignore it... The majority of your critique is usually nitpicks and grammar, which must mean you're getting the story right, right? I think it's going to fall together nicely, if you keep working at it: which is what we're doing here.

So, here's my six pennyworth......

Why do you want to remove some of the sexual connotations? You've done it quite well in: With nothing but a glance, he brought forth desires so dark they lift me ill and shamefully sated. Okay it should be 'left' and not 'lift', and possibly unsated, unless she was sated just by his glance. (Some women are easy to please!) That's the great thing about your brevity here: it lets us make our minds up, you're not putting in so much detail that the story becomes boring, and since this scene is leading to an encounter, I feel it sets us up nicely.

How about something like: Worse yet, in his presence, with nothing but a glance, he brought forth desires so dark they left me ill and shamefully (un)sated.

It's your words, edited.......

The one thing that undoes your prose a little is the use of the word 'doesn't'. As I said before, you've got a good lyrical quality to your work, but this modern word doesn't (!) seem to belong here. For example:

It is not that I am unhappy, my lord. I don't know. It is hard to explain what it is I am feeling, when I scant understand it myself." I released a heavy sigh, to tired to bother dissembling. "I am ever at war with myself. The two halves of my whole, they no longer seem to fit." I shook my head, sending white curls a flurry. "That doesn't make sense, does it?"

'I scant understand it myself/I am ever at war with myself' are great lines, placing us deep in the time and place you have created but the last line should either be 'That makes no sense, does it?' or even 'That does not make sense, does it?' You could even leave the 'does it?' out altogether.

And possibly even the 'I don't know' should be 'I do not know' or 'I know not' Likewise, if all the populace speak the same, then Calbien would not reply: "It doesn't have too, my love. Unless you want a deliberate difference between their modes of speech to draw attention to their differences, in which case, leave it.

Oh, and while we're here, you might want to read the paragraph above (starting It is not that I am unhappy, my lord) out loud, and change whole to self.........oops.

And: In a seconds span of time, I saw the darkness that plagued me take new form. My heart beat in my chest like the wings of a caught bird, and it wasn't till Calbien's head snapped backwards. It should be 'second's, and could the 'wasn't till' read better as 'was not until'?

Lastly: "I didn't mean too." should either be 'I did not mean to.' or what about 'I did not mean.........' (breaking off in shame/confusion?)

Okay, definitely the last: "Come here, Brenadine." He said, his like honey, but for the undertone of menace. Without a moments thought
His 'what' like honey? Presumably his voice? and it should be 'moment's'

Shaping up to be such a good story, and I'm so glad you keep putting it up here for us to exercise our critiquing, which may or may not help you! Keep at it.......

[HareBrain]

Originally Posted by shadowbox

I have been getting so much grief about doing this in first person, but I can't imagine any one other then Bernadine telling her story.

Wha ...? Grief from whom? Why? If the story wants to be written in first person, as this one does, then write it in first person, and don't let anyone else cause you a moment's doubt about it. That's an order.

[shadowbox]

i did forget the word voice between his and like. I'm tugging away at it, and loving it more and more. I have, over the course of this past week, sculpted the flurry of ideas I had into more pronounced ones. I gotta hand it to you Boneman, for you have been with me since my first post here, and it helps to have consistent criticism. Like a new hair cut, I hate every thing I write for the first few days. You are right though, too, about the word didn't. I would love to find some sort of literary guide on archaic language. I do use modern words randomly


I will note here, though, that during Brenadine's early years, she would experience bouts of 'near-madness' especially when she was overly angry, excited, or if she's tasted blood. Other things triggered this effect also, and are described in more detail in passages I haven't and probably won't post.


I think really, all I will post is the completed first chapter. From what I have gathered it is risky to post completed or larg quantities of your works on the interweb.