Where Rainbows Dance - Chapter 1 – Opening Paragraphs
HollyMerry
For new comments, please scroll down to the pink. I’ve reviewed the beginning of the chapter several times, so I want to concentrate on the rest, but I do have one comment in pink for the opening paragraph.
Please, keep any suggestions that you find interesting and toss the others. Lol.
Very nice, HollyMerry!
Tadpole1
P.S. The blue comments are the old ones.
Hi HM,
Thank you very much for telling me about the contest. It looks like it’s you and me so far, but of course that will change. I am going over the opening paragraphs of your chapter to see if there’s anything that I could suggest. What I’m concentrating on is clarity and flow.
Remember, the paragraphs are great as they are, I would just like to see if there is anything that I can suggest.
Tadpole1
Aira crouched in the corner nearest the door of her cell, waiting for it to open. If only her heart did not pound so fearfully loud.
It Its beating
masked the distant sounds that might forebode an approaching tread.
If When
she strained her ears, she could hear the clink of water drops and even the stirring of one of the bats hidden in the heavy darkness. The tiniest sound set her on edge.
Whilst time trickled by with the plinking of water drops, she rehearsed how she would dart behind the stalwart oak door and hide the next time someone came in.
With any luck comma (optional but good to have)
she might be able to slip out unnoticed
as while
her captors searched the cave for her.
Vile yellow threads of cavern sludge oozed down the walls like venom from a giant spider, ? maybe delete this comma because congealing goes with venom ?
congealing into stalagmite fangs.
Her throat tightening at the foul odour, The foul odour doesn’t have anything to do the the scratches, so I would make two different sentences.
Aira slid her gaze toward the door with its multitude of scratches, doubtless left by past prisoners.
Her throat tightened at the foul odour.
(A transition from the smell to her sight) Ignoring the smell,
she slid her gaze
toward the door with its multitude of scratches, doubtless left by past prisoners.
A new paragraph? She willed herself to focus on the chink of light filtering beneath the door. Though she wanted to ignore her dismal surroundings, the silence of the cave oppressed her. In her mind, the clamour from when she and her fellow brownies were captured still rang, threatening to engulf her in a wave of sadness.
She shifted her gaze
to the narrowed eye of the door lock, clenching her fists as she willed herself to keep focused on her escape plan. The kraken had seized the brownies’ home and then led
the ? maybe delete ?
monsters to capture her and her companions to prevent them from retaking it. How she missed Velmoran, the beautiful brownie citadel where the waves threw rainbows dancing on the roofs of the quays. Somehow, she would get it back.
The word “the” before waves stands out to me, so I’m wondering what I would do.
How she missed Velmoran, the picturesque brownie citadel where ocean waves projected dancing rainbows onto the facades of the houses along the quays and where her people had lived in peace until the arrival of the kraken.
Do quays have roofs?
Can you see rainbows on top of roofs?
Something slithered along the tunnel outside, heading towards her cell. Aira’s breathing grew ragged as she pushed herself to her feet. In the ghastly glow of the lantern light, she glimpsed Krysila’s tentacle wrenching the door back. The kraken slipped inside the cell with the speed of a squid lunging at its prey.
Below are the paragraphs with the proposed changes incorporated.
Aira crouched in the corner nearest the door of her cell, waiting for it to open. If only her heart did not pound so fearfully loud. Its beating masked the distant sounds that might forebode an approaching tread. When she strained her ears, she could hear the clink of water drops and even the stirring of one of the bats hidden in the heavy darkness. The tiniest sound set her on edge.
Whilst time trickled by with the plinking of water drops, she rehearsed how she would dart behind the stalwart oak door and hide the next time someone came in. With any luck, she might be able to slip out unnoticed while her captors searched the cave for her.
Vile yellow threads of cavern sludge oozed down the walls like venom from a giant spider congealing into stalagmite fangs. Her throat tightened at the foul odour. Ignoring the smell, she slid her gaze toward the door with its multitude of scratches, doubtless left by past prisoners. She willed herself to focus on the chink of light filtering beneath the door. Though she wanted to ignore her dismal surroundings, the silence of the cave oppressed her. In her mind, the clamour from when she and her fellow brownies were captured still rang, threatening to engulf her in a wave of sadness.
She shifted her gaze to the narrowed eye of the door lock, clenching her fists as she willed herself to keep focused on her escape plan. The kraken had seized the brownies’ home and then led monsters to capture her and her companions to prevent them from retaking it. How she missed Velmoran, the picturesque brownie citadel where ocean waves projected dancing rainbows onto the facades of the houses along the quays and where her people had lived in peace until the arrival of the kraken. Somehow, she would get it back.
Something slithered along the tunnel outside, heading towards her cell. Aira’s breathing grew ragged as she pushed herself to her feet. In the ghastly glow of the lantern light, she glimpsed Krysila’s tentacle wrenching the door back. The kraken slipped inside the cell with the speed of a squid lunging at its prey.
New review starts here:
Aira crouched in the corner nearest the door of her cell, waiting for it to open. If only her heart did not pound so fearfully loud. Its beating masked the distant sounds
that might forebode an approaching tread. Every time I read this phrase, it makes me feel like the author is working too hard. Maybe something simpler?
When she strained her pointed ears, she could hear the clink of water drops and even the stirring of one of the bats hidden in the heavy darkness. The tiniest sound set her on edge.
Whilst time trickled by with the plinking of water drops, she rehearsed how she would dart behind the stalwart oak door and hide the next time someone came in. With any luck, she might be able to slip out unnoticed while her captors searched the cave for her.
Vile yellow threads of cavern sludge oozed down the walls like venom from a giant spider, congealing into stalagmite fangs. Her throat tightened at the foul odour. She leaned back against the door, her fingers tracing its multitude of scratches, doubtless left by past prisoners.
She willed herself to focus on the chink of light filtering beneath the door. Though she wanted to ignore her dismal surroundings, the silence of the cave oppressed her. In her mind, the clamour from when she and her fellow brownies were captured still rang, threatening to engulf her in a wave of sadness.
She slid her gaze towards the narrowed eye of the door lock, clenching her fists as she willed herself to keep focused on her escape plan. The kraken had seized the brownies’ home and then led monsters to capture her and her companions to prevent them from retaking it. How she missed Velmoran, the picturesque brownie citadel where ocean waves projected dancing rainbows
onto the roof of the quays I know that you explained this to me, but it still makes me pause, so maybe it would also break the flow for other readers? Maybe something simpler and more straightforward?
in the sea caves. Somehow, she would get it back.
Something slithered along the tunnel outside, heading towards her cell. Aira’s breathing grew ragged as she pushed herself to her feet. In the ghastly glow of the lantern light, she glimpsed Krysila’s tentacle wrenching the door back. The kraken slipped inside the cell with the speed of a squid lunging at its prey.
Aira gave a shudder of anguish to find she had no time to enact her escape plan. Dauntless, she faced Krysila. There would be another time to break free.
Krysila selected one of the skins that hung from her tentacles, using magic to make it cloak her sea monster form. This is still cool every time I read it!
Aira tried not to think of the hideous fate of Krysila’s victims whose skins the kraken carried with her.
In the kraken’s place stood a quaintly dressed brownie lady, her lips pursed as if she had sipped sour milk. Aira’s stomach clenched in loathing of her detestable mockery. Krysila was no House Elf but an evil sorceress of the sea. She used brownie form simply to trick the brownie clan into falling into her clutches. Like the others, Aira had placed her trust in a woman of her own kind, especially since Betaine was beloved by the brownie king, Gruagach.
‘What do you want? Aira demanded.
In the space of a clap, Krysila’s face pressed towards hers. ‘Everything,’ she hissed.
Aira met her captor’s gaze with a steadfast stare.
‘Ah, defiant I see,’ Krysila said. ‘What do you think you can do against me? I was born to be the most powerful sorceress of the sea. Now, with the elixir of immortality found in Velmoran in my grasp, what can I not accomplish?’
‘So, you’ve done all this just for power?’
‘It is my right. What would you puny House Elves do with immortality?’
Aira bit back the retort that any of her brownie friends would make far better use of an immortal life that Krysila did. ‘What are you here for? I’ll never side with you.’
‘You don’t need to. I already have King Gruagach’s support.’
‘Your dupe?’ Aira asked, her tone crisp. ‘He’s not of royal blood, only married into the brownie royal family.’ She steadied her breath, her courage returning as she pictured her beloved, Prince Boroden. She would stand by his cause to the end. ‘Boroden is the true King of the House Elves — I’ll serve no other.
’ This is fine, of course, but I was wondering if something like this might be interesting:
And you know that none of my fellow brownies will either, for our kind swore an oath to only obey the true descendants of Velmoran’s first king and queen.
Krysila bared her teeth, then scoffed. ‘The coastal land of Velmoran is mine now — don’t forget that.’
A flicker of hope lit Aira’s heart as Krysila’s jaw twitched in annoyance. Perhaps her words had made Krysila hesitant to kill Boroden? They would certainly reinforce what King Gruagach said earlier when he begged the kraken to stay her wrath, arguing that the brownie clan would be outraged by his son’s death.
‘Prince Boroden is unfit to become king.
Suggestion: will be unfit to rule as king.
His health shall soon be broken after a spell of torture in my dungeons.’ Krysila gave a ghastly smile. ‘If you want to survive, you brownies have no choice but to obey Gruagach. I’m sure that, with my prompting, father and son will come to agree. Perhaps Boroden will reveal where he hid the sword of Talibereth metal forged to kill me?
That is, if you don’t know already…’
Suggestion: That is, if you don’t know already and want to spare him?
Coming around behind Aira, Krysila grabbed her arms, though Aira remained stiff and resisting. Confusion whirled in her mind. One of the first things that Krysila’s servants had done was search her and her companions, taking their weapons. Yet, Krysila had not been given the Talibereth sword despite the fact that it had been taken from Aira. What had happened to it? Good question.
Aira flinched as she spotted several of the knights who served Krysila’s daughter, Leanan Sídhe, poised in the tunnel outside. Presumably Krysila had ordered them to wait there to grab her should she try and flee. At the front of the knights stood Vortimus, a hot-headed changeling man whom Aira loathed, for he would think nothing of hurting a brownie to stay in Krysila’s good books. Twice the height of a brownie, the human man made an intimidating sight.
Vortimus stepped forward. ‘Shall we take her?’ Love the name!
Krysila raised her hand and thwacked the air, making the men start back. ‘No, I’ll deal with this puny House Elf. I want to feel her fear.’
As Krysila herded her forward, Aira struggled against her superior strength. Her feet slipping on the damp rock, Aira involuntarily clutched at Krysila to steady herself. Beneath her fingers, the arm of the brownie woman twisted into the muscular bulk of a tentacle, cold as dead flesh. Squeezed in the clutch of Krysila’s tentacle, Aira found herself dragged along. The red glow from the lanterns fixed to the walls slashed the interior of the tunnel into a disorienting ribcage of gloom and light. Cool image!
‘Where are you taking me?’ Aira asked.
‘I said I’d break your mind — I mean to begin.’
Aira fought to control the shiver running through her at Krysila’s chilling response. She would stand her ground and not give the kraken the satisfaction of knowing how terror boiled inside her.
Krysila threw her into an utterly black cell in the loneliest corner of the Unseelie dungeons. As Krysila locked the door, she commanded the knights. ‘Don’t let her out until tomorrow at the soonest.’
Aira’s surprise turned to relief. Was solitary confinement all Krysila could throw at her?
Her eyes adjusting to the dense dark of the cave, she discovered its walls were covered with sharp white crystals. Foreboding of something living, breathing and brooding somewhere deep within the cavern seeped into her, and she shivered with revulsion. Was there some ancient, evil magic at work here?
Her mouse-like whiskers twitching as she sensed the air, Aira began to explore her new surroundings. Stepping forward, she shrieked in horror. She teetered in a dreadful moment, hovering on the precipice — nothing to stop her hurtling down.
The plunge over the brink came both lightning fast and sickeningly slow. Dark, unfriendly thorns and rocks rushed closer, but ever a long way off. The fall went on forever — surely an entire day must have passed? Her body thrummed with pain and her mind whirled feverishly. About to hit the rock, she shrieked. Thrusting out her hands to try to stop herself from getting crushed, she found only nothingness.
Something groped at her hand in the shadows. Fingers. Clammy, dead fingers. It was her mother, Freya, her face white with agony. Helpless sorrow filled Aira. She wanted to save Freya, to take away her pain, but she could do nothing. A croon of screams filled her mind. Aira wasn’t sure if they were her own or her mother’s. She could not bear knowing that Freya was cursed to be a banshee because of her untimely death in childbirth.
Cowering down on the dank stone floor of the cell as the nightmares ended, Aira gulped back sobs as she caught the sound of footsteps outside. She prayed Krysila would not come and see her like this.
Serena shoved back the door. ‘Lady Leanan bade me bring you victuals. She didn’t want you starving in that torture chamber.’
The lady-in-waiting led her to an adjoining room where a platter of food and a pitcher of water stood on a low table. The gloomy room was so sparsely furnished that Aira had no seat, but her legs buckled beneath her comma
and she gratefully sank onto the floor to take her meal. At least it felt drier than the dank cavern where she had previously been, even if the floor did leave a dusting of white on her woad blue dress. Cool! Woad blue. You have such a cool vocabulary!
‘Get some rest. You won’t be allowed out forever,’ Serena said, turning on her heel with a swish of silk and locking Aira in.
Aira waited until Serena’s footsteps had died and her breathing grew more regular before picking up the plate of food. Even then she shook so much that it made eating and drinking difficult. She gulped mouthfuls of foyson, the essence of food that faeries survive upon, without tasting a morsel. Wrapped in her cloak for comfort, sleep claimed her, heavy and dreamless. All too soon, Serena jolted her awake.
Aira brushed back her hair as it fell over her weariness weighted Suggestion: fatigue weighted or maybe fatigue-weighted?
eyes. What a mess — after her ordeal in the cell, her neat golden braid appeared like a fraying straw mat. Brushing herself down to remove dust from the cavern floor, she faced Serena. ‘I must see Krysila.’
It sounds like her braid just appeared out of thin air. Maybe “her neat golden braid frayed like a worn, straw mat?
Is she removing the dust from the cavern floor?
Brushing and dust almost rhyme.
Though she imagined it would be fruitless, Aira wanted to demand to be imprisoned alongside Boroden and her kin, even if it cost her life.
Serena regarded Aira coolly. ‘Krysila has returned to Velmoran, leaving Lady Leanan in charge.’
‘Then I’ll speak to her.’
‘She lies sick. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow,’ Serena said, ushering her back to her cell.
Aira told herself to pull together the courage to face the ordeals ahead. Yet as she reached the door, terror petrified her. Serena pushed her inside.
Maybe Serena shoved her inside?
A jarring pain tore through her knees as she fell, impacting on rough stone. Gritting her teeth, she struggled up, finding herself a small bairn again on the day Velmoran was destroyed by the kraken. She must run. They were coming. The bloodthirsty shrieks of the hobyahs filled her ears as they tore after screaming brownies fleeing the destruction of the palace.
A cackle echoed close by. The sound of her bursting open the locked nursery door must have alerted the monster. Tearing towards the stairs, she darted a look back at her pursuer. The hobyah closed in, waving in a host of other monsters. Her legs insubstantial as water in her fear, Aira plunged down the first few steps.
A squadron of the gaunt, toad-skinned monsters tore up the stairs towards her, their beaks bloodstained. She was trapped. Distantly, Boroden called her name. Knowing her dearest friend would see her die and be unable to save her only made her anguish worse.
Instead of the relief of her mother’s magical light enveloping her, protecting her from the hobyahs as it had when Freya saved her from the destruction of Velmoran, Aira dived into darkness as black as a sky where all the stars are extinguished. Screaming until her throat grew raw, she scrabbled round the void that her cell had become, trying to find a way out.
There remained a steady core to her untouched by the nightmares Krysila conjured. The illusions made her recall Krysila saying that, whilst she would break the other brownies physically, she would shatter Aira’s mind. She wanted her mad. Once that had been accomplished, the torture might stop. If it ended, she might be free of the cell and have a chance to help her clan. Leanan had a softer heart than her mother. Perhaps she might be freed from the cell…
With this hopeful plan, Aira endured the horrors. She had appeared too sane, too defiant, when Serena let her out before. This time must be different.
At last, Aira caught the sound of footsteps drawing near. As far as she could make out in the eternal gloom, a day must have passed since she was thrown into the cell. When the door opened comma the jaws of the corridor outside appeared narrower, although maybe that was because Serena came with company this time. .
Leanan brushed past her handmaiden, meeting Aira with a smile. Darting a look about the dismal surroundings of the cell, a glinting layer of ice on its walls, Leanan unclasped her cloak of yew-green velvet and proffered it to Aira. For a moment, surprise had the better of Aira comma and she stared at the devastating beauty of the sídhe witch comma (because it’s not the witch who is trying to… trying to recollect how she planned to encourage Leanan to free her from torture.
Contracting her full lips with a pitying look, Leanan laid her hand on Aira’s arm. ‘Aira, join with us. There’s no need for you to stay here. My mother is merciless.’
Concern etched Leanan’s face as Aira threw herself at her satin-sheathed waist, sobbing. When Leanan drew her back to wipe away her tears, Aira pawed the air feebly. Aira held her gaze fixed in space as she smiled, praying Leanan would not see through her act. She had once been called a little doll, and she could easily be childlike.
‘In there optional comma I was so afraid I’d never see my doll again,’ Aira said.
Leanan raised her delicately formed eyebrows in astonishment comma and Serena pulled a disgusted face, as if she smelled something rotten. The sight made Aira laugh, a sound she transformed into a fit of helpless giggles until tears trickled down her face, chilling in the icy dungeon air.
Leanan took her shoulders, her jasmine perfume brushing Aira’s nostrils as welcome relief from the rotting stench of cavern ooze. ‘Aira, what do you mean your doll?’
‘I want to find her and make her so many pretty clothes. I’ve been planning what I’ll sew all day.’ Aira tugged at Leanan’s trailing sleeve. ‘Have you any spare fabric and a needle?’
Leanan’s
moonlight pale brow Nice!
furrowed. ‘Oh, you poor thing. Your mind was once so much brighter and better than mine. I suppose I always knew something must destroy you. After all, brownies are mortal. I forget that.
My family and I sold ourselves to the devil in return for eternal life, making the bargain that we’ll torture souls after judgment.’ Just a question: Would someone say this this straight forward?
‘But it’s not heaven. You’ll not know true happiness. I only want to be happy.’ Noticing Leanan narrow her eyes as if wondering at her returned lucidity, Aira added, ‘That’s why I’d rather play with my doll.’
Leanan sighed. ‘One may get used to hellfire after a while. Torturing others is not without pleasure for me. I find ample occupation in wringing the hearts of my knights. Why not join me? The way to heaven is narrow and fraught with stones, this other is easy and much more fun .’
Aira flinched back, nearly stepping into a puddle on the cave floor. ‘Never.’
‘You delight in choosing a difficult path.’ Is this and the following line spoken by the same person?
‘If that’s so, then you’ll enjoy spending more time in the cell.’ A shaft of lantern light made Serena’s features ghostly pallid as she moved
to place Aira back Is there a better way to say this?
for further torture with a vindictiveness that Aira guessed came from jealousy. After all, Serena had once tried to steal Boroden’s love from Aira.
Aira faced Leanan, peering up into the crimson eyes of the taller sídhe lady. ‘Please don’t put me back. Let me stay with you?’
Maybe it would be interesting to ground Leanan and Serena more in space? Are they standing side-by-side? Is one of them leaning against the rocky wall? Does one of them idly stroke a crevice of moisture while the other is talking? Are they touching each other? Does one of them twirl a lock of hair or move her foot?
‘Of course.’ Leanan turned to Serena. ‘It appears Mother’s torture has succeeded in breaking Aira’s mind.’ Would they actually call it torture? That seems really straight forward. Is there a pet name that they would have used instead of the word torture?
Clasping Aira’s hand, Leanan led her away. After so long spent in musty caverns, Aira’s lungs rejoiced to fill with the crisp, cold air flowing through the passages that Leanan ushered her along en route to her dwelling. I guess that I wasn’t paying attention well. I thought that they had just brought her to the cell, but maybe they brought her there and then changed plans?
Keen to fit in and thus become inconspicuous and freer to search for Boroden, Aira curtsied to the bevy of handmaidens that met Leanan as she slipped into her stylish chambers. The red and black colour scheme was enlivened by the glint of mirrors, silver embroidered accessories, and bottles of perfumes and potions on the shelves. Heavy tapestries depicting scenes of courtly love amongst the tangles of briar roses covered the walls. Dark arches of filigree severed the room into sections like a barrier of thorn trees. This far underground, no sunlight ever entered. Incense candles glowed, their fragrance cloying the air. They did little to dispel the shadows. Anything might lurk in the inky corners of the room. bevy—another cool word—cloying
Just noting, the descriptions at the beginning of the paragraph are positive; whereas, the descriptions at the end are negative. Maybe that’s fine?
Leanan smoothed Aira’s tousled hair and nudged her forward comma so her handmaidens could see her. ‘Ladies, I intend to keep this brownie as my pet. The poor darling has lost her mind.’ She doesn’t sound very evil like someone who has sold her soul to the devil.
Aira played along as the girls fussed over her, offering her food and a comfortable seat on one of the plush divans. Sinking into it gratefully, the ache subsided from her numbed limbs.
‘You look so tiny sitting there,’ Leanan said. ‘Ladies — have a room furnished with items of a brownie size. It should be simple, yet pretty. That would be to your taste, wouldn’t it, Aira?’
Aira nodded. ‘I’m grateful.’
Leanan waved a hand as if shooing away her touched expression in shame. ‘Oh, fiddle-faddle. You’ll repay us all, I’m sure. Serena said House Elves are fond of housework. You spoke of how you enjoy sewing. Your services as a seamstress and lady’s maid would be welcome.’
‘Of course.’ Aira curled herself up as the handmaidens busied themselves. Though she pretended to be sleeping, her mind whirled as she planned to escape and find her clan. Nice.
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