Natiselle – There was so much blood. It ran from the wound in his chest, blooming like a vengeful lily on his shirt. He hadn’t shaved, his cheeks were rough against my palm. It was sticky and hot. And bright. It continued to bloom through my fingers.
“Papa?” I whispered, “Papa, stop it.”
His eyes, so different from mine or Kraiotan’s, seemed to pierce right through me, seeing me and seeing past me. “Nati, you know that I am not…” red drops flew from his mouth as he coughed, wincing.
“Shhh, you are my Papa. Mine and Kraio’s.”
For a moment a corner of his mouth, now dribbling blood, seemed to twitch. “I love you both… as if you were… mine.” And with one last shudder, his eyes became fixed.
Kraiotan – I heard her faintly at first, I don’t know if it became louder as I drew nearer to her, or because she grew louder. “Papa!” “Papa!” “Pa –!” She hadn’t called him that since we had been told the truth. The steps flew by, I cannot remember how many there were, only that there seemed to be too many and not enough. The heavy wooden door seemed to absorb most of her wails, when I threw it open the full force was like a shock wave. I do not remember my saber falling from my hand nor do I remember sliding down the side of the filthy cell. But I will never forget the sight of Natiselle. It seemed as if she was no longer in control.
“Nati?” I whispered. She either ignored me or couldn’t hear me over the sound of herself.
Nati held him to her chest, “Papa.” Their bodies shook with every breath that she managed to take. Eventually she quieted, nothing left but her heart breaking sobs.
I remember moving, but I cannot recall making the decision to do so. “Nati,” I placed my hand on her shoulder “we have to go now.” She managed to look up at me, her face puffy and swollen, drained of any remaining energy.
“Kraio, I…” she looked so tired “I don’t know what to do.”
He looked so small now, like the shell of a man. He was no longer the man who used to tease Nati with me, the man who taught me how to whistle, or the man who taught me how to fish. He was a graying shadow of himself.
“Erion taught us better, we have to go.”
She turned to look at him, moving as slow as syrup. “But –”
“Get up!” I snapped. She visibly jumped. I grabbed her elbow and yanked her onto her feet; she did not fight me as I pulled her to the door.
“I can not,” she whispered.
“What do you mean, you –” and then I saw it. It seems the bastard had gotten her too. The blood on her dress was spreading too fast for it to be Erion’s. She crumpled into me; a hand on her waist, trying and failing to keep pressure on the wound. It was only when I carried Natiselle that she seemed small.
Notes
TryToDoItRight
Woah. Dang. Heavy stuff.
From what it looks like, you have a clear plot and character arc outline in your head and it shows in the writing. That's super awesome!
The only critique item I can see is the very quick POV jump from character to character. POV jumping is fine when the reader is ready for it (ex: end of chapter, end of part one, that sort of thing) but in the middle of an action scene it can get confusing and take the reader out of the intense scene. Find a way to keep it all one character at least for this scene. Show what the other character is thinking through their actions if you can't have it in their POV.
If I was editing your scene I would keep it all the POV of Kraiotan? The thoughts of Natiselle are very clearly portrayed in her screaming and sobbing and dialog.
Anyways, tho, good scene! Keep it up!
“No. Death is too kind.” More than any other words, these ones haunted me most. I had tried so hard to forget her rotting away in that tower. The same room where Erion breathed his last. The room where I drove my sword, hit deep into Lorias’ (https://www.notebook.ai/plan/characters/371161) throat.
I had vowed to never enter that cursed chamber again. Yet I found myself climbing the steps towards my nightmare. After what felt like a lifetime, I arrived at the massive oak door and with a wave bade my guards to open the door. The smell hit me like a battering ram, so repugnant that I reached out to the wall to steady myself. It smelled of a battlefield left to the sun, of dried blood and the release before death. It was smaller than I remember.
The stone walls were still filthy and the sole window at the top of the high ceiling still seemed to mock us. It was close enough to let occupants see the light of day but too far to even dream of reaching it. Condensation dribbled down the walls.
I tried to reconcile with myself that I had been kind. A maid was ordered to come by twice a day to feed the wretch and change the chamber pot. She was given a clean gown twice a year, her son’s birth and death days. But standing here, I faltered.
“So … the day has finally come. Welcome to my little kingdom.” She croaked from the shadows.
My eyes adjusted and I could just make her out. She sat there leaning against wall, her face tilted up in defiance, even now. Her hair was a wild halo of grey and her once plump skin had shrunk back, leaving her noble face looking like broken leather.
“Have you come to gloat? To see what three years has done to me?”
My soul stood divided; part of me wanted her dead as much as I had that day in the square, the other wanted to beg for forgiveness at throwing her to these conditions. “No,” to my surprise, my own voice refused to shake, “I come to ask for your help. Estonie asks for your help.”
Notes
TryToDoItRight
ohmyword. the last sentence!! I'm intrigued!!
the only two things I have are very very picky and some people wouldn't bother with them
One: cut it into shorter paragraphs for easier reading. an example would be after the sentence ending with "bade my guards to open the door." I'd end the paragraph. it shows the transition to a new place and emphases that first sentence (which is a nice sentence, i like that sentence) I'm a believer in paragraph cuts and I have lots and lots of one word paragraphs. you don't have to go that far with it, I'd say just cut it up a bit for the reader's eyes
Two: I paused and reread the sentence: "Condensation dribbled down the walls and I was left to wonder if it helped or detracted from the miserable conditions." because it didn't make a lot of sense to me. Why would water dripping down the wall ever help it feel or look better? I'd cut it to "Condensation dribbled down the walls." you don't have to give any commentary. it's just an image and the reader is left to add it to the whole picture of the miserable conditions.
But that was it!! it was a really smooth read overall and I really enjoyed it! keep it up and keep it coming ;)
WriteOutofTime
I agree with cutting it into paragraphs. That huge chunk of writing is a bit hard on the eyes. Another thing I noticed is that you use a few unnecessary adjectives and adverbs, and a few descriptive phrases, which kind of bog down the writing. An example: Yet I found myself climbing the infernal steps towards my nightmare. I would cut infernal from the sentence. It's nitpicky I know, but it feels so stilted. Don't tell us the steps are infernal. Chances are the reader can figure it out from the narrators reaction to the stairs. You don't repeat the mistake very often, but just a tip since I can't find anything else to critique! It's really very good. I loved the description of the smell of the room. That was quite effective. Idk. Overall it was just great.
She seemed to sit on the bench, hands demurely folded in her lap, looking for all the world like the queen she was. She was dressed simply, likely in the frock she was murdered in, with her hair plaited neatly around her head. If not for the unearthly glow and her translucence, you would have thought she sat there the same as any living being.
When she saw me, she stood up and flew to me with her arms outstretched. Her fingers stopped just short of my face and her smile faltered. “Oh my Nightingale, how you’ve grown. I would love nothing more than to hold you again. Spin for me, you look so lovely and strong!” I was grateful for an order because all the thoughts of what I would say to her had fled. I turned and let her have the full view of me. Muddy boots, torn trousers, frayed blouse and all.
If a ghost’s eyes could shine, hers did. “I’m so sorry my child. I’m so sorry for leaving you.” I moved to console her without thinking and my hand passed through her arm. It was like plunging your fist into an icy bucket in the middle of winter, so cold that it burned. It was all I could do to not yelp. If possible, she looked even more mournful at my pain.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Erion told me about the love you had for me.”
At his name, she smiled and chuckled, shaking her head. It was a bubbly sound, light and full of joy despite her sad visage. “That silly man, what would we have done without him?” She looked almost regretful now, ashamed. “Did he ever…find someone,” she took a breath and I couldn’t help but wonder if she actually needed it “who could return his love?”
“He did, he married a Lianian woman named Onell who – ”
“The wetnurse? She was Lianian?” She trailed off, looking to something in the distance. “Natiselle listen to me, things are not as they seem. Lian is…” She seemed to be choosing her words carefully “Lian is malleable.”
“Mother, can you give me more? I do not understand.” She tucked a ghostly wisp of hair behind her ear and looked at me again with guilt. “I am sorry, there are rules. I try to say more and my tongue grows heavy. Somethings the universe, or the gods, or someone does not want said.”
I ran a hand through my hair; this was not what I had hoped for. I wanted concrete answers. “May I ask you something?”
“Of course child, that is the duty of a mother – to prepare her children for the world.”
“What do I do about that Straivia Uradavi?” It felt like all the air was pulled out of the room at the mention of her name. My mother’s face twisted in rage into something almost unrecognizable and she transformed before my eyes. She truly looked like the wraiths of the old tales. Her skin became shrunken and her mouth stretched into a gaping maw, her hands morphed into long spindles and her dress clung to her in tatters. Turning away from me, the new creature shrieked and flew about the chamber. A part of me knew it wished me no harm but it still brought dread to the very depths of my soul.
I did not realize I was huddled on the floor until the air returned and I felt a cool breeze against my cheek. “I did not mean to frighten you. Try as I might, I cannot control my rage for the witch.” When I finally found the strength to look up at her, I found her to be as she was before. Beautiful with rosey cheeks, a high nose, and full lips – nothing like the creature she just was. “This much I can tell you. You must end her the way she did us. It is the only way we can be free.”
Notes
TryToDoItRight
Woah dang i like this. Writing wise i can't find a single grammatical thing to critique. This is partly because I was flying through it because it was so smooth and easy to read. Nice!
But I'm a little confused about the drug thing though. Isn't this just straight up magic? or is the magic in the herbs?
WriteOutofTime
So good. I like the idea of an ancestral plane like black panther (which, yes, is amazing). It's both magical but a big more grounded than complicated magic systems. I like this a lot. Very smooth and easy reading.