Writer's Aid discussion
Sandaidh's Scribbles
>
Scene from a WIP - comments welcome
date
newest »
newest »
I didn't really like the plot, but the writing style and descriptions are very good!
What is it you don't like about the plot?
Well, it's the kind I don't enjoy. I was wondering about the striked out words. Could you explain the reason for them to be striked out?
Striked out words - when I reread I also edited. In the first instance, I eliminated them since Taran's lessons aren't the kind which can be turned in. He's learning how to use his abilities...like the shield of awareness he pulled around himself. In the second instance, I reworded the sentence so it reads better. The new sentence follows the striked out one.I've been in heavy "edit mode" lately.
Now I get it! I got confused when I saw that you striked out "going to go" in the very first sentence. That's a pretty clever idea!And I'd like to say again that your descriptions and writing style are very good! I really like the narrative paragraphs.
Thank you. And I did an "oops" on that. 'Going' shouldn't be striked out. LOLFixing it.
I liked the idea of the plot. I wish Taran had more thoughts though, id like to know what he's thinking. And I got a bit confused when they started speaking another language because I couldn't understand it. You could add in a bit explaining that maybe?
Journeys is a sequel to my epic fantasy The Binding. Briefly, Taran is one year old at the end of The Binding. He's a very special child. In the Before Time (long before The Binding begins) the gods made a promise to the Forest People - when the Forest People and the City people (aka Wanderers) can be united by a single heir, the Forest People will be released from the Great Forest. Prior to that, if they leave it means a hideously painful death. Taran's mother is heir to the City throne and his father is heir to leadership of the Forest People. Taran is heir to both and thus the Promise kept. He's also a legend reborn. There's some other magical doings and naturally the gods have to get involved. Although we don't know his name at that time, Arayak'd is in the final chapter of The Binding as a troubadour. He's come to Taran's Naming Day seeking the Promise. Surprise when he finds the Promise is a small child who can't even talk yet, although he can, and does, communicate with is parents with the mind seek (telepathy). The ability to speak and understand the ancient language is something that he's had even before birth. As a child growing up, he's trying to learn and understand, his differences/abilities. He's been learning from the holy woman of the Forest People, but because his abilities far surpass her knowledge, she can only take him so far. Arayak'd has arrived to teach him. Arayak'd himself is an ancient being which is why he knows the ancient language fluently. His name BTW means 'godsend.' Journeys is Taran's journey from toddler through adult.
Does that help or have I confused things even more? LOL
"Father, I'm going
to gofor a walk," said Taran to his father."Are you all right, son?" asked Kyllan.
"Yes," Taran smiled. "I'd just like some time alone."
"Did you finish your lessons?"
"Yes, Father," replied Taran with a smile. "All finished
and turned in.""All right then, call if you need anything," replied Kyllan. He watched his son walk across the camp and into the woods beyond, knowing the boy needed some time to himself. He was growing up so fast. Soon he'd be on the verge of becoming a man. As much as he and Felyn treated him no different than their other children, there was no getting away from the fact that he was different.
It was difficult enough in adolescence without all the extra burdens his son carried.Adolescence was difficult enough without the extra burdens his son carried.Taran walked aimlessly through the Forest surrounding the camp. He didn't have a goal or place to go. He just wanted some peace and quiet, to be away from everyone who knew who and what he was. It was often easier living in the New City than at the camp. Sometimes he wished he wasn't the Promise, wasn't so important to the People. He knew his parents and grandparents treated him no different, but there was no way to escape from himself. Mindlessly he followed a narrow path which led him to a small glade filled with bright flowers. Spotting a log not far away, he waded through the bright blossoms and sat down. He closed his eyes and lifted his face toward the sunlight. It was warm, quiet and peaceful. Just the refuge for which he'd been searching.
"Vaeh allyan'tan."
Taran opened his eyes and looked at the man whose soft voice interrupted his peace. As tall as his father, the man had long snow white hair. He was dressed in the clothing of a minstrel and held a wide brimmed hat in his hands. When Taran met the stranger's eyes, they flashed bright amber for a moment. He glanced around the glade wondering how the man came to be here. The only place the flowers were flattened were his own footprints. There were no others. Despite the man's sudden appearance from nowehere, he wasn't afraid.
"May I join you, m'lord?" asked the stranger politely.
"I'm no lord," Taran said quietly as he scooted over to make room on the log for the stranger.
"As you wish, mo'an mohrar," said the stranger as he sat down on the log.
"I'm not...," Taran shot back, then shook his head. "Never mind." Casually he rested a hand near his belt knife, stretching his fingers to touch the hilt. His father had gifted him with the knife on his tenth birthday. He felt the stranger watching him intently and reached inside himself to pull a shield of awareness around him. The invisible shield would alert him to any movements made by the stranger faster than seeing them. He didn't see the stranger's approving smile. Silence reigned over the small glade, broken only by the gentle sounds of the Forest surrounding it.
"You may call me Arayak'd, mo'an mohrar," said the stranger quietly, placing his hat beside him on the log.
"Sir, not to be rude but I am no lord," replied Taran turning to face the stranger.
"Jy tannam'tan shall I call you then?" asked Arayak'd gently.
"Va mo'an tannam'tan...," replied Taran absently, then he stopped and confronted the stranger. "You speak ta Arsee Canaan'a."
Arayak'd briefly closed his eyes as he nodded.
Taran was shocked. He knew of no one who spoke ta Arsee Canaan'a...the Ancient Tongue. There were a scattering of words spoken by the People, remnants from the Before Time but no one spoke it. No one but himself. Even the Dhe'an didn't comprehend when he spoke it completely. The ability to speak ta Arsee Canaan'a was just another thing which set him apart from the other boys, from everyone else. He didn't even know how he knew the language, only that he did. It was as much a part of himself as his eye color. Who was this stranger who spoke a dead language? Was he someone like himself? He felt a small flare of hope that he wasn't the only one who was so different.
The stranger...Arayak'd faced the glade, closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun. He sat completely still for a long time. Taran watched cautiously, but when the man said nothing, he turned his own gaze to the flowers in the glade. The pink and yellow blossoms danced in the light breeze, bobbing back and forth on their long stems. Brightly colored butterfies fluttered in their attempts to land on the flowers. Taran smiled when he saw one land, clutching tight as it drank the necter. Bees buzzed here and there, waging their own assault on the flowers. He was enjoying the randomness of the insects when he noticed the butterflies abandoning the flowers, slowly gathering together making a small cloud of colorful wings fluttering in the air. One, then another, then several left the group and fluttered toward him. He caught a movement from the corner of his eye and turned to see the stranger hold his arm out.
Taran's mouth opened in awe as the butterflies flew to the stranger, alighting on his outstretched arm and hand. The man's arm was soon covered by butterflies with more seeking a spot to land. It wasn't long until the fluttering wings covered his shoulder and began landing on the long silver white hair. Eyes still closed, Arayak'd smiled and raised his other arm. In a matter of minutes his arm was covered with bees, somehow called from their foraging among the flowers. After a few moments Arayak'd murmured something too soft for Taran to hear and the insects departed to return to the flowers as if nothing had ever happened.
"I bid you tatchnyak'tas laha'tan," said Arayak'd as he stood, placing his hat upon his head. His amber eyes twinkled.
Dumbfounded, Taran only nodded. He blinked and in that moment, Arayak'd vanished. Taran swept his gaze over the glade but it was as if the man had never been there.