The Web of Life

[Áréwn'tháwr]

This is my first posting here. Any and all comments and criticism (constructive) would be appreciated. Thanks in advance.



Winds howled … Thunder rolled across the blackening sky piercingly as if summoned to witness the imminent storm. A pair of jagged flashes of lighting momentarily illuminated the rugged mountain on the horizon, but it was quickly engulfed again by the darkness.

The fall of rain … the amassing of heavy clouds … a blaze of fiery flashes framing a deathly chorus of tortured voices that left an edge as sharp as a blade on the night. Gales swept violently across the grasslands and across the restless surface of the lake, the unfolding tempest in the sky pushing them into unkindly waves of turmoil.

A woman stopped … glanced behind, clutching a bundle of seared cloth tighter to her convulsing chest and rushed into the long grass.

Screams of anguish and torment echoed in her ears, making her feel nauseous. She listened among the shrill cries and perceived the voice of her husband ordering an attack on the things that had attacked their village so savagely. Rooftops flared a scarlet brightness. She could still feel the heat of the inferno on her burnt and blistered skin. Smoke billowed out of every window in grey spiral crafted clouds, choking the phosphorescent aura that hung over the houses.

She dived into a group of rushes by the lakes edge, kept her head low, breath shallow, and then there was the sound of a colossal battle breaking out between men and the things – if you would dare call them such. In truth, they were a machine of war – a terrible iron fist in the darkness, casting shadows like that of malignant spirits.

They would never cease their relentless hunt – but that is why they would not lose tonight – why they would not stop until they had in their grasp what they had been sent out to destroy.

The bundle of sodden fabric wept softly to itself within the folds.

But they would not find it. She would die first.

Her head bled badly but she simply wiped away the claret flow that had stained her cheek, and, fighting back the black spots in her eyes, leaned down and left a warm kiss on the forehead of her only child.

They’d come so fast, she thought, and all at once, like a wave the shape of darkness itself. And it had overwhelmed the village in one go, devouring the light and life of everything near like one large mouthful.

She watched weakly as more images arose from the night. Figures that had climbed out of the shadows and taken shape right before her eyes. Concussion had already taken over her mind; the acid in her stomach, already unsettled, turned rancid, and she shuddered back the terror and tried to close her mind to the sickening whimpers of slow extermination.

Too soon, the uproar of war – survival, died away, falling into haunting notes in the wind that would continue to repeat the impending storm in the sudden gathering of darkness until the rain had completely washed the blood away.

Thrown into a sea of emotional agony, she looked down hopelessly at her child, who seemed almost innocent in the absence of light. The hunt had begun again. Quickly, and without time to think, she lifted an object from around her neck and wrapped it in the folds encasing the little one.

‘Be brave now, my dear one,’ she whispered. ‘Be brave and be silent; you will one day again remember this place – this night. Never, must you forget who you are. My beloved one, you are Hope, not the shadow it leaves behind.’
Pulling down the reeds feverishly, she concealed it … crying.

‘I will see you again, my love,’ she wept. ‘I will see you again … when you are grown. To you, pledge it, do I.’

Then she clambered to her feet, swaying a little over loss of blood, and began to run … to run fast.

The child sobbed softly in the gales, alone, but the object touching its skin felt warm and homely.

The air vibrated as a flaming bolt sliced through the night with an iridescent glow.

I will see you again …

There was a short shallow scream of a woman … and then silence.

Real silence … Not just the absence of sound, but the sound of oblivion.

The baby listened. Then, yawning, it closed its eyes and fell fast asleep.

[Paradox 99]

Very impressive Áréwn'tháwr. This is one of the best things I've read since I joined this forum.

It was extremely rich in its description, contained a very strong tension and the subtle hints on the nature of the enemy was really well executed.

I have to say that I was very close to saying that it was a little too wordy, almost a little too flowery with the descriptions, but considering the strength of this piece I think you pulled it off. You've thrown us straight into the action and the left us with a hook. I'd be very disappointed if I didn't get to read more of this (hint hint )

By way of critiquing, these are the parts that got my attention:

Thunder rolled across the blackening sky piercingly

I chewed this one over for a minute or two. Rolling thunder - yes. But then to have something that rolls able to pierce? Didn't quite sit right for me. I think you need something that sounds more heavy and bullish in there rather than something sharp. Piercingly would work with the lightning though. Actually (I'm rambling now, or thinking aloud as I write!), I'd get rid of "piercingly" altogether.

She listened among the shrill cries and perceived the voice of her husband

"Perceived" sounds too technical compared to the rest of your word usage. The rest of it is almost poetic in its exposition, so something like "discerned" might sound better (though even that might sound too rigid)

They would never cease their relentless hunt – but that is why they would not lose tonight

I'd have preferred "and" rather than "but" there.

like one large mouthful.

Again, I can't quite decide if that works or not. I can see in the context that "mouthful" is an apprpriate word, but I don't know. Not sure about that. Perhaps you can somehow use a "bite" or "gulp" - hmmm - really don't know.

she looked down hopelessly at her child, who seemed almost innocent in the absence of light.

Almost innocent? Interesting implication there. That got me even more interested in the story.

To you, pledge it, do I.

Sorry, but I just couldn't help thinking of Yoda with that line.
Perhaps "To you, I pledge this." might be a little less Lucas.

That's it though. An excellent piece IMO, really loved it and would love to see more of it. Thanks!

[Tred_Stone]

Some of these paradox already hit so I will just go through I agree with the piercingly part, my eyes caught that immediately. I will not read anymore of his post though so that I will see what I think is there so after that part here we go!!

remember there are millions of opinions out there and mine is only just one little one.


The fall of rain … the amassing of heavy clouds … a blaze of fiery flashes framing a deathly chorus of tortured voices (that) left an edge as sharp as a blade on the night.
okay try reading it without th is^ it helps the story sound more as if you are there rather than reading it

Gales swept violently across the grasslands and across the restless surface of the lake, (make this two sentences) the unfolding tempest in the sky pushing them into unkindly waves of turmoil.

Rooftops flared a scarlet brightness (maybe in scarlet brightness- using a is usually for a single item not multiple)

She watched weakly as more images arose from the night (this sentence just sits wrong with the eyes-- maybe- she watched weakly as more images rose up out of the night) not sure, I dont really know

Figures that had climbed out of the shadows and taken shape right before her eyes (same with this one it sounds like it should be current but reads as past tense)

[Áréwn'tháwr]

Thx for the help guys! I'd better get on with chapter I ...

[Marky Lazer]

Winds howled … Thunder rolled […]
*Don’t open with a cliché!

Screams of anguish and torment echoed in her ears […]
[…] a deathly chorus of tortured voices […]
*You’re basically repeating this.

[…] an attack on the things that had […]
*Things is so vague. Maybe that’s the purpose, but I’m only ten seconds in your world, I really want to know already what these things are.

In truth, they were a machine of war – a terrible iron fist in the darkness, casting shadows like that of malignant spirits.
*You’re showing the child the cake, but he can’t touch it… This really is the time to show us what these lads look like.

‘[…] she looked down hopelessly at her child, who seemed almost innocent in the absence of light.
*Why does a child look more innocent where there is a lack of light?

Real silence … Not just the absence of sound, but the sound of oblivion.
*Tough one, but how does this sound? There is always some sound in our world. So, no sound at all is so hard to believe–you need to put more effort in it.

*I don’t want to be a spoilsport, but I just read the thread "List of Clichés:

Originally Posted by sanityassassin

Orphan grows up with different family and finds their real parents have some extrordinary gift which the've got too and they are the strongest weilder of it

and I’ll add: He saves the world against the opposing evil forces.

This sound very much – maybe too much – like such a story. Don’t waste your good writing skills with a cliché idea.

[Áréwn'tháwr]

Originally Posted by Marky Lazer

This sound very much – maybe too much – like such a story. Don’t waste your good writing skills with a cliché idea.

How do i avoid these clichés, Marky?

[Marky Lazer]

Don't write the obvious.

[Elvendon]

I'd disagree with Marky about saying what the "things" are/are like... I quite like the suspense. It emphasises the point of utter destruction you were going for quite nicely... though the whole "faceless evil" thing is a bit cliche, it's one I like

[Rhuidean]

This is very impressive, Arewn'thawr and will look forward to your next post.

[koma]

I quite liked this.
There is the odd word that has been misused and maybe the whole thing is a little overdone, but I liked the feel of it a lot.
Good work.