❀ Sariah ❀’s Comments (group member since Mar 02, 2012)

❀ Sariah ❀’s comments from the Write a Story group.

OBVIOUSLY still a work in progress…….




Chapter One



Mira’s first recollection from after she’d awoken was of food.
She feasted her eyes upon a huge oak table, creaking and groaning and shuddering under the weight of massive golden platters. Looking like an oasis of relief in a desert of pain, the platters overflowed with delicacies of the highest class. Thick slabs of flavorful ham dripping with sweet honey. Tender turkey, bursting with seasoning and flavor. Rolls as soft and white as tiny pillows slathered with fine butter. Bowls with mountains of fruit: the reddest, shiniest apples Mira had ever seen, plump purple grapes, enormous wedges of juicy mandarin oranges, and deep pink pomegranates like geodes with rubies nestling inside. Pastries as light as feathers with crisp crusts and soft insides, most of them filled with jam. A rich, hearty stew packed with meat and fresh vegetables. Goblets brimming with spiced apple cider. All human food, but all what Mira had eaten above the clouds—only better.
The room was completely empty except for Mira. Her now-human stomach ached with hunger at the sight of all the fine foods. The aromas from the feast mingled together until Mira was sure she could pluck them from the air and devour them alone. She struggled to get off the floor, but her arm was heavily bandaged –no, she wasn’t on the floor! No, she wasn’t on the floor, someone had taken the time to ever so carefully plump some cushions and arrange them just so in a corner of the dining hall for Mira. But who? And why was she here? Mira didn’t live in a … in a… a castle, of some sort. For that was where she was. She was in a castle.

On Earth.

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Mira moaned softly and gave up on trying to get to the food. She sank back out of consciousness and a dream began to play in her mind.
She was flying below the clouds, but above Earth’s surface. She was flying so rapidly that the skirt of her white dress was flying behind her and her dark hair was streaming past her shoulders. Her golden wings were churning and beating the air furiously. A volcano (ah, only Faeries used that word in those times!) was erupting on an island and lava spewed high into the air. There was an enormous cloud of black ash and toxic gasses, though Mira, being a Fey, didn’t take the toll of the poisoned air. Mira was dodging chunks of the blistering lava, vivid in the dark, ashy sky. Humans scattered frantically around the base of the volcano, which called Mount Klyptontrite. The sparkle of magic protected the humans every time they scrambled into danger, but with each time the magic glittered on the wind, it grew weaker and weaker and the humans’ escape got narrower and narrower. Mira tried to fly towards the humans to save them, but every time she tried, lava would threaten to burn her fragile skin and delicate wings.
“NOOO!” the dream-Mira cried. “No”, the word she found herself using more and more as her family was torn away from her, as a brownie forced her brutally from her home, even in her dreams as destruction threatened the humans she’d always been so curious about.
The dream-Mira dove towards a young boy as a flying lump of ruby-red ash and lava came shooting towards the toddler. But her wings seemed to be beating honey instead of air. She couldn’t fly fast enough towards the child-- no, the volcano couldn’t claim the life of a baby! He was hardly two years of age—NO! The child looked up, eyes wide with surprise. He began to howl in terror, and then—and then--
Mira woke up in a cold sweat before she could see what had happened to the child in her dream. A woman stood over Mira, adjusting the cushions and applying a cool cloth to Mira’s forehead. The woman had dark blonde hair and light green eyes. Her hair fell into her eyes in damp strings and she looked tired.
“Hello,” the woman said, giving a weak smile. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, considering I’m a Fey who’s been pushed through the clouds, separated from her family, totally unconscious for who knows how long, and is by some miracle still alive with the help of a complete stranger. Sure, of course I’m just splendid,” Mira muttered under her breath.
“What?”
“Oh, just fine,” Mira said hurriedly.
“Good,” said the woman worriedly. “You’ve been unconscious for six days now. We couldn’t feed you or give you medicine or even water. It was the strangest thing. You haven’t eaten for six days.”
Now it was Mira’s turn to gasp.
“WHAT? How is that even possible…”
“I’ve no idea, dear.”
“…Now that I’m human,” Mira finished, quietly enough so that the woman couldn’t hear.
“You truly are extraordinary. I should tell you about how you…” the woman trailed off and didn’t finish. “I am Nara.”
“And I am Mira.
“Where do you come from, Mira?”
Mira didn’t answer.
Nara asked more forcefully, “Tell me, Mira. I do not take in strangers without at least knowing what corner of the Earth they come from.”
“I come from the clouds,” Mira mumbled.
“Now, Mira,” Nara scolded. “Stop messing about. Tell me the truth—NOW.”
“It is the truth,” Mira said, biting her tongue. How could she reveal the location of the Fey? How could she?
Nara sighed. “Your fever must be getting to you. Here, take some of this. It’ll do you some good.” She disappeared into a doorway and returned with a brown glass bottle. Nara spooned the bottle’s contents into Mira’s mouth. It was a hot liquid that looked and felt like watery broth but tasted bitter. Mira winced, but Nara’s cooing voice persuaded her to sip every last drop of the medicine from the tiny, ornate spoon. Slowly, slowly, Mira’s eyelids began to slide shut against her will….


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You asked for it, unfortunately… constructive criticism.


HARDLY ANYTHING NEEDS CHANGED!!!! Maybe, possibly, just for stuff like "Then I put an orange highlight around the edge" you could change it to, like, "Then I fiercely sprayed a bright orange* highlight** around the edge" just to make it a little more descriptive. Otherwise, it's great! I love it!



*[a metaphor could work here] **[Is highlight the right word, or border?? You decide!!!]

Uh-oh… I HATE the constructive criticism part...

Oh my gosh, thank you SOOOOO much for everything, Cici!!!!!!!!

There, fixed a few little nit-picky details. Oh, and two more things (then I'm done, promise!):



Less contractions=more dramatic--and I NEED dramatic!

Is it old-fashioned enough (all of it, but ESPECIALLY how the characters talk)??????? Guys, this is SO SO important!!!!

Okay, I lied. ONE more thing-- really, be SUPER Super Editors, guys!!!!

Be Super Editors, guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where else is it bad/dumb/confusing/similar-y (which is a REALLY REALLY bad insult in one of my other stories--that story turned out to be a flop)? I know there are many, many other places!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BTW...

*I will still add a few contractions. Probably.
*WHERE AM I MISSING WORDS????????!!!!!!!!!! TELL ME!!!!!!!!!
*Should I kill Rowena off? Eventually? 'Cause I hate her and I might just get the readers to love her, then KILL HER off!!! Cruelly! Visciously! Tear-jerking-ly!!
*Is the whole "oh, only the Fey used this phrase for hundreds of years, blah blah blah" part dumb? Never mind. Doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, I think it's dumb. I'll delete it ASAP.

Okay, thanks for the feedback. However, we may as well agree to disagree on the "use-more-contractions" thing. I heard you out, think you have good reasons, but listen--there's a reason I use less contractions. One, well, here's an example: Mira says "NO! You CANNOT do this! Please!" The lack of a contraction (can't, obviously) gives you the impression she's intelligent, mature, maybe has a British accent... Now read it, "NO! You CAN'T do this! Please!" Nut'in' wrong with that, just totally eliminates that first impression you have of her I mentioned earlier, right? 'Cause it's the first thing she says. The 2nd way could even make her seem like she has a whiny tone instead of the pleading one I intended. Reason #1= must make the right first impressions! Important, no? Now, I couuld a few more contractions in other places, but (and here's reason #2) using few contractions actually makes you sound a bit more intelligent (not that contractions make you sound UNintelligent, but...). I want Mira and her family to sound intelligent 'cause they're Fey and good guys 'n' stuff, and I want them to seem like they're so awesome, they can ONLY be captured by intelligent guys. Reason #3: If you read few contractions in dialog and you don't know where a character lives, you MIGHT assume they have a British accent. I do sometimes. British accents are awesome! Reason #4: The less contractions you use, the more old-fashioned you sound. This story is set in the Medieval Ages (about then, I THINK)! Old-fashioned! Reason #5: Fey hate contractions (okay, I made that up).

Okay, I hope it's OKAY, at least. It's obviously still a work in progress and still not very good yet. And, yes, girly.

Mira- Prologue
By Sariah



Prologue


There once was an island in a faraway place, where magic thrived and swelled in the hearts and souls of the people that lived there. They used magic every day to get simple tasks done. They were a peaceful people, and clever-- they built large buildings and castles. Unlike the people of many other islands, they had a spoken and written language. The people were skilled in their powers, but only when they lived together in one great city was the magic truly complete and full—for so were the strange, yet powerful, ancient laws of Magic.
Then came the terrible day when the Earth moved. Fire licked the ground, but the people were together and their magic protected them. Then, the center of the island buckled. Before the people’s very eyes, the land rose up, forming a mountain bigger than a ship--bigger, even, than the Silver Castle. The mountain rose, it towered. It seemed to touch the clouds as thick, fiery red liquid exploded everywhere. The mountain, the cursed fire mountain, was dividing the people of the island in two cities. Families, villages, neighbors were split; the people could feel their powers weakening, but they couldn’t just give up, couldn’t just die. They fought the power of division that the mountain possessed: the power to take their magic forever. They used complicated magic, and holes as large as their dwellings (which had been burnt to ashes, of course) formed, there in the ground. They hid in these holes and blocked the openings with boulders they moved using telekinesis.
These holes became their graves, for poisoned air filled the hollows and killed the women, men, and children inside.
The great people of that nameless island reduced to hiding! The people of that island of magic, forced to hide in pits deep in the ground! It would have been a terrible thing to see these powerful beings cower inside the Earth as their civilization crashed down above them. All because of the doing of the fire mountain, which could not be traveled over without the full force of magic, the island’s inhabitants were divided into two separate regions. The sudden formation of the fire mountain took them by surprise and because of this, they were unable to prepare for it. It divided the people, and cowering inside the island’s depths was all they could accomplish with their pitiful magic.


************************
“NO!” Mira cried. “No! You cannot do this! Please!” she sobbed. Shining silver tears--Faerie tears-- streaked her cheeks. She fought to free her delicate golden wings from her captor, a burly brownie with forbidding black wings. She kicked and screamed. She grabbed with her slender arms towards her helpless family. Dear, sweet Rowena, her pearly white wings drooping, not understanding how someone could be so cruel. Without knowledge of how to combat, she couldn’t prevent Mira from being torn away from her.
Morwen had seen war, but he was too thin and small and young to protect his family. His deep blue wings beat the air frantically as he stared, paralyzed by fear, at Mira. He was as speechless as the clouds just a few inches below his bare feet. Mira cried out, for she was only a decade older than him and had always shared a special connection with her brooding, quiet
Arrow, the only one of Mira’s siblings struggling, kicked and bit his confiner. Only he and Mira had fought the two brownies, and thus, they had been the ones to earn the confinement.
With his cloudy gray wings and stormy temper, Arrow was more commonly known as “Storm.” He was two decades older than Mira and would fight for her fiercely.
But he was losing the battle.
“WHY? Why are you taking me away from my family?” Mira screamed.
“I must,” the burly brownie grunted. “You're too troublesome, always sticking your pretty little nose where it doesn’t belong. You found out about our plan to get rid of the Queen. We were lucky to stop you from telling everyone you could about it! That is why we are sending you below clouds.” The brownie paused dramatically so as to give Mira time to process the threat.
Mira gasped. The brownie gave an evil chuckle.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll make sure to send you to a remote island immersed in trouble and despair.” The brownie bent down and waved his arm through a weak patch in the very clouds he was hovering over. A hole in the clouds--clouds that were assumed to be constant--appeared, making Mira dizzy and giving her a good view of a volcano forming on a rather small island, erupting and wrecking havoc. People were scattering everywhere. The glimmer of magic (which only the Fey could see) hummed all around them. Though the island was thousands of miles away, Mira’s Fey eyes could see it as though it were close enough to touch.
“You see,” the brownie, explained, “They have the gift of magic when they are not worthy of it. They are mere humans.” He spat out the word “humans” with obvious disgust. “They are filth. We are superior to them. And we are superior to you. We are better than any other being! That is why we are sending you there, with the humans. You belong with them. You're no better than them!”
“But why?” Mira wailed. “Why do you think you are better than us? We are each Fey! And who is this ‘we’ you speak of?”
“You ask too many questions.”
These were the last words Mira ever heard above the clouds.

The brownie suddenly shoved Mira through the hole in the clouds, the one that framed the destruction on the island with the volcano forming. Mira didn’t want to make a sound that would satisfy the wicked brownies, but the rush of air tore a suppressed scream from her lips. She screamed and screamed and screamed. She couldn’t stop. As she tumbled through the sky, she felt her wings evaporate from her back. Oh, why hadn’t she used them to catch her fall before they’d dissolved? The blanket of clouds Mira had always lived on were getting farther and farther above her. White and fluffy, they were pristine in a clear blue sky. Mira, with a part of her mind that couldn’t process what was happening, wished that the day were gray and stormy and rainy to match her extreme sadness.
Mira realized all of a sudden that she was picking up speed. Without her wings to slow her fall, she would be killed instantly. With the part of her mind that still couldn't believe the current event, she knew the bitter truth--she was obviously human now, she was now one of the pathetic beings the Faeries had always mocked. Thinking this, she laughed a wild, insane, uncontrollable laugh. The laugh scared her, but it stopped as she realized she was going to land in the direct middle of the volcano.
NOOOOOO! Mira thought. And then her vision tinged with red and black spots speckled her view of the rapidly approaching lava and then everything turned solid black.

She had fainted.


************************

Mira- Prologue
By Sariah



Prologue


There once was an island in a faraway place, where magic thrived and swelled in the hearts and souls of the people that lived there. They used magic every day to get simple tasks done. They were a peaceful people, and clever-- they built large buildings and castles. Unlike the people of many other islands, they had a spoken and written language. The people were skilled in their powers, but only when they lived together in one great city was the magic truly complete and full—for so were the strange, yet powerful, ancient laws of Magic.
Then came the terrible day when the Earth moved. Fire licked the ground, but the people were together and their magic protected them. Then, the center of the island buckled. Before the people’s very eyes, the land rose up, forming a mountain bigger than a ship--bigger, even, than the Silver Castle. The mountain rose, it towered. It seemed to touch the clouds as thick, fiery red liquid exploded everywhere. The mountain, the cursed fire mountain, was dividing the people of the island in two cities. Families, villages, neighbors were split; the people could feel their powers weakening, but they couldn’t just give up, couldn’t just die. They fought the power of division that the mountain possessed: the power to take their magic forever. They used complicated magic, and holes as large as their dwellings (which had been burnt to ashes, of course) formed, there in the ground. They hid in these holes and blocked the openings with boulders they moved using telekinesis.
These holes became their graves, for poisoned air filled the hollows and killed the women, men, and children inside.
The great people of that nameless island reduced to hiding! The people of that island of magic, forced to hide in pits deep in the ground! It would have been a terrible thing to see these powerful beings cower inside the Earth as their civilization crashed down above them. All because of the doing of the fire mountain, which could not be traveled over without the full force of magic, the island’s inhabitants were divided into two separate regions. The sudden formation of the fire mountain took them by surprise and because of this, they were unable to prepare for it. It divided the people, and cowering inside the island’s depths was all they could accomplish with their pitiful magic.


************************
“NO!” Mira cried. “No! You cannot do this! Please!” she sobbed. Shining silver tears--Faerie tears-- streaked her cheeks. She fought to free her delicate golden wings from her captor, a burly brownie with forbidding black wings. She kicked and screamed. She grabbed with her slender arms towards her helpless family. Dear, sweet Rowena, her pearly white wings drooping, not understanding how someone could be so cruel. Without knowledge of how to combat, she couldn’t prevent Mira from being torn away from her.
Morwen had seen war, but he was too thin and small and young to protect his family. His deep blue wings beat the air frantically as he stared, paralyzed by fear, at Mira. He was as speechless as the clouds just a few inches below his bare feet. Mira cried out, for she was only a decade older than him and had always shared a special connection with her brooding, quiet
Arrow, the only one of Mira’s siblings struggling, kicked and bit his confiner. Only he and Mira had fought the two brownies, and thus, they had been the ones to earn the confinement.
With his cloudy gray wings and stormy temper, Arrow was more commonly known as “Storm.” He was two decades older than Mira and would fight for her fiercely.
But he was losing the battle.
“WHY? Why are you taking me away from my family?” Mira screamed.
“I must,” the burly brownie grunted. “You are too troublesome, always sticking your pretty little nose where it doesn’t belong. You found out about our plan to get rid of the Queen. We were lucky to stop you from telling everyone you could about it! That is why we are sending you below clouds.” The brownie paused dramatically so as to give Mira time to process the threat.
Mira gasped. The brownie gave an evil chuckle.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll make sure to send you to a remote island immersed in trouble and despair.” The brownie bent down and waved his arm through a weak patch in the very clouds he was hovering over. A hole in the clouds--clouds that were assumed to be constant--appeared, making Mira dizzy and giving her a good view of a volcano forming on a rather small island, erupting and wrecking havoc. People were scattering everywhere. The glimmer of magic (which only the Fey could see) hummed all around them. Though the island was thousands of miles away, Mira’s Fey eyes could see it as though it were close enough to touch.
“You see,” the brownie, explained, “They have the gift magic when they are not worthy of it. They are mere humans.” He spat out the word “humans” with obvious disgust. “They are filth. We are superior to them. And we are superior to you. We are better than any other being! That is why we are sending you there, with the humans. You belong with them. You are no better than them!”
“But why?” Mira wailed. “Why do you think you are better than us? We are each Fey! And who is this ‘we’ you speak of?”
“You ask too many questions.”
These were the last words Mira ever heard above the clouds.

The brownie suddenly shoved Mira through the hole in the clouds, the one that framed the destruction on the island with the volcano forming. Mira didn’t want to make a sound that would satisfy the wicked brownies, but the rush of air tore a suppressed scream from her lips. She screamed and screamed and screamed. She couldn’t stop. As she tumbled through the sky, she felt her wings evaporate from her back. Oh, why hadn’t she used them to catch her fall before they’d dissolved? The blanket of clouds Mira had always lived on were getting farther and farther above her. White and fluffy, they were pristine in a clear blue sky. Mira, with a part of her mind that couldn’t process what was happening, wished that the day were gray and stormy and rainy to match her extreme sadness.
Mira realized all of a sudden that she was picking up speed. Without her wings to slow her fall, she was “dead weight” (indeed, a phrase to be used so many years from Mira’s story, only the Fey used it then). With the part of her mind that was still “out of it”(yet another phrase to be used only by the Fey for hundreds of years), she knew the bitter truth to that expression—when she finally hit the ground, she’d literally put the dead in dead weight. Thinking this, she laughed a wild, insane, uncontrollable laugh. The laugh scared her, but it stopped as she realized she was going to land in the direct middle of the volcano.
NOOOOOO! Mira thought. And then her vision tinged with red and black spots speckled her view of the rapidly approaching lava and then everything turned solid black.

She had fainted.


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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THANK YOU!!!!! Okay, here I go...

'Kay, great, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! By the way, I'm just gonna start out with the prologue (both topics) and hope for the best. You know, hope it's okay or at least decent (at LEAST not horrible) and all. Though I'm fairly certain already that never in a million years could it be as good as The Rebels!!!!

Thank you for EVERYTHING, Cici!!! For your wise words of advice on girliness and for using my idea!!! Thanks a lot!! You make me happy. :)

Hey, you guys should TOTALLY, like, make each of us our very own folder for our stories!!! We could start a new topic for each of our stories and make a topic for each of those stories no one would be allowed to comment on. So, like, you'd go to the group home page and there would be (I'm just gonna use me as an example) a folder that said "Sariah's Stories". Then you'd click on it and there would be a topic that was called "Mira [version you're allowed to comment on]" and one that was"Mira [version you're NOT allowed to comment on]". That would be so cool!!! Could we do that, peoples, or is it a dumb idea???

Yeah, I will, I promise, I've just kinda kept mine totally secret for the past, oh, twenty gazillion months (yes, I'm a HUGE fan of hyperboles and no, "twenty gazillion months" does NOT mean twenty months). Plus it's kinda maybe sorta girly or whatever (okay, I admit, it's about Fey and Faeries and that kind of stuff: but I still like that stuff :P), but I've tried to kinda take out some of the girly element in it. Hey, at least it has magic in it, right???

What I like about this story is that (for some weird reason) it reminds me of the Hunger Games, which I love. But it's not like copying the Hunger Games or anything, so that's A-okay. Nice description, grabbers at beginnings, captivating, love the spunky, independent, rebellious character, etc… It's good!! :)

Geneva wrote: "well, sea serpent wakes up after thousands of years, all lost and confused cuz of humans. makes friends with girl, girl betrays the serpent to a 'zoo'. later another girl saves the sea serpent and ..."

Yadda yadda yadda… hehehehe… SOUNDS GOOD! WRITE IT!!