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@AJMaskell

Is anyone interested in critiquing the first chapter in one of my stories? It's called Of Siren Blood and it's part of this big universe (but that shouldn't matter, the books within the universe have no particular order).

@AJMaskell

@childoftheuniverse , Thanks, Here's the chapter (it could use a little editing but oh well)
It is common knowledge that a Siren is a very strange being. It is also known that one must remain indoors when thunder begins to boom and when lighting begins to strike. These things are known to all of those who live amongst the Western Islands. It is also said that a part Siren may be even more strange then a pure blooded Siren because of cross breading and such. Perhaps that’s why Elda was sitting outside her home as the thunder rolled in.
She sat there as the sky darkened and the rumbling began at the Castle called Thunder. She sat with her knees curled up to her chest, holding then in place with her arms and resting her head atop. She smelt the cool air. She smelt the storm brewing. The wind blew her red hair around her face, but her silver-blue eyes never left the grey sky and the Thunder Castle.
Not one soul wandered the dirt roads that made up the island called Illark. All the other souls on the island knew that bad things happened to those who did not seek shelter during a storm.
Elda continued to lift her head heaven ward as leaves scuttled down the dirt track, pushed by the wind. She smelt the salt in the air from the sea and the smell of lightning.
She had always been fascinated by storms, had always loved them.
Occasionally the face of a neighbour would peer through a window, wondering if Elda was mad for being out of doors, but she took no notice of them as she watched the dark sky swirl in intricate patterns.
She wondered what it would be like to be up there in the clouds on such a day. To dance in a rippling fog of cloud. To drink the crystal water drops before they fall. She saw the dark and monstrous sky billow across the heavens, bringing the storm onwards as it sailed on its great ship of wind.
“Elda!” The call came from inside her home. She knew it to be her sister, although not a sister by blood. Elda could barely hear the cry for lacked the better part of her hearing and was focusing on the beauty of the lightning that flashed before her eyes as the music of thunder fell upon her ears.
As the rumble of thunder grew deafening, as it was beat around the Thunder Castle she felt the ground vibrate. Lightning illuminated the sky; so bright it was near blinding, as it crashed through the hollow chamber in the centre of the castle, smashing into the churning ocean waters below.
The Thunder Castle was an unusual castle. It had five legs supporting the main body of the building, each leg rested atop a different island. The legs held up the body of the castle over restless water. The middle of the castle was non-existent, it being a hollow in the castle. Above this hollow were five metal rods that stuck up higher then the tallest tower and guided lightning into the choppy sea. The thunder that ensued from the lightning travelled back up this hollow chamber causing it to echo and bang as if being projected through a drum. It could then be heard all throughout the Western Islands.
Despite the danger of the being in the castle, the leading Lord of the Aluian outpost still lived there, even in the darkest of storms.
Elda loved to watch bolts of light cascade from the sky to sizzle in the water. She loved how the windows of the castle refracted the lightning and caused it to scatter a million rainbow coloured sparks that were gone in a blink of an eye. It was truly a fantastical sight. Which was why Elda sat outside watching it. If she had been more daring she would have gone to the cliffs so she could also admire the crashing of frothy waves into the rock.
“Elda!” There came the cry again. Yet Elda still did not move from her position.
Fat raindrops began to fall then, plastering her red hair to her skin, causing her clothing to mould to her body. As each of the water droplets fell they sent up a tiny puff of dust from the road, causing the smell to mix with the pre-existing smells of storm and sea and now rain.
“Elda!” Her sister’s voice sounded more desperate now. Soon she would leave their home, Elda knew. She all this though she heard it only as a faint murmur.
She didn’t know why her sister worried so as it was common practice for Elda to be out during a storm, and as of yet, she had never been hurt. A stray lightning bolt hadn’t struck her, nor had she been blown away by the strong winds. Elda was perfectly safe. She was of Siren blood the storms were her friend. The storms were the only thing that had always been with her.
Her earliest memory was of a storm. And a great storm it was too. Lighting was falling everywhere, for the Thunder Castle had not caught the storm. It had almost hit her. But it didn’t. She had been at the shoreline, she recalled. Watching wild waves sweep up the sandy beach where she stood, though it never touched her. The winds had been fierce and howling, whipping her hair to and fro as if trying to pull it from her scalp. It had been then that the lightning had struck, barely three metres from where she stood. She felt the electricity of it cause the hair on her arms and legs to stand on end. She had tried to touch the lightning, but it was gone before she could. The sound that ensued had knocked her off her feet and left her lacking in hearing with ringing ears. But as soon as the sound was gone she stood up and brushed sand from her cotton dress and walked to where the lighting had been. What she saw was beautiful in the remnants of the light’s beauty. Lightning glass. Where the bolt had struck it had been so hot it had melted the sand it touched, turning it into a red-brown glass. She had knelt and had gone to touch it when she was yanked backwards.
That had been when she met her sister. Ahren had saved her from the storm. Although saved was what she said it was, Elda felt more like she was being held back from the fierce weather.
“Elda!” The door to their home slammed shut, though Elda did not hear it. Nor did she hear her sister’s oncoming footsteps, though she sensed their presence. “Elda, get inside now.”
Elda chose to ignore the words, though she could hardly hear them.
Despite the lack of response, her sister grabbed her arm and heaved her to her feet and marched her inside, bolting the door shut behind them.
The sound of the wind was muffled, as was the boom of thunder.
“I told you that storms are dangerous.” Ahren said. “You are not to go out in them, how many times do I have to say that?”
Elda said nothing. Elda always said nothing, for she did not ever utter a word.
Ahren sighed and slumped into a rickety wooden chair that sat at a small square table where they ate their meals. “What is it with you and storms?”
When Ahren had first found Elda, Elda had been unable to communicate her name. For all she knew she may not have even had one at that time. But because of Elda’s attraction to storms and all sorts of gruesome weather, Ahren had dubbed her Elda, which was the Aluian word for storm.
“And look at you, you’re all wet.” Ahren continued. Ahren didn’t know how much Elda could or couldn’t hear. She had regained some hearing after her encounter with lightning, but not all. In truth, not even Elda knew the full range of her hearing.
Elda walked to the small window set into the adjacent wall to the door and continued to watch the storm. Watching was not as fulfilling as experiencing the storm, but for now it would suffice. Once Ahren fell asleep she would venture out once more. But Ahren could never sleep during storms. Elda believed it was so as a mixture of the noise and worry for her sneaking out. So Elda would have to satisfy herself with the wreckage the storm had left in its’ wake.
“Elda, go light a fire while I get supper ready.”
Elda did as she was bid, though reluctant to leave her storm.
Once the fire was crackling in the fire, spitting occasionally as rain came through the chimney, the two girls sat down to a supper consisting of stale bread and old cheese. As she ate, Elda’s eyes never left the window where rain thrashed against the glass pains. It was a true masterpiece of nature seeing the pattern made by the rain on the glass, seeing it run as if the window itself was crying.
She soon got up from her seat and returned to the window, where she traced the tracks left by the runaway rain. By now the world outside was sodden with the heavy downpour. She wished she could be out there with it.
Behind her she sensed the movement of Ahren getting up from her seat and coming up behind Elda.
“Come away from the window, the storm will be over soon.” Ahren urged, her voice tired from such a long and worrisome day. Elda had contributed to the worry part, she knew. Ahren always worried about her, though by now she should be used to Elda’s strange antics.
Elda shook her head to Ahren’s words. The storm would not pass soon, the thunder and lightning perhaps, but not the rain. That and the wind would remain for a few days more at least. Elda did not know how she knew such things, but she did, and she was never wrong.
Throughout the grey weather Elda would remain vigilant at her post, watching the old wash away. She would stay at that window, or escape outside if she could. For now she was to remain beneath the clay roof and within the clay walls, allowing her breath to fog up the rain ridden window. She would not sleep that night, or the next.
A Siren, or even a part Siren, did not need the same sustenance as a human, Elda knew. She could stay awake for days on end without being tired. She could last weeks without food. She didn’t even to breath air. This was drawn from the pure Siren ability of becoming some sort of sea creature at will. Some sort of fanged and silver-skinned mermaid with webbed hands. A part Siren could not do this, but they kept other abilities.
Elda knew she was of Siren blood, though she did not know if it was through her mother, her father, or both. She knew it because of her eyes. A Siren did not have natural eyes, and Elda’s were anything but. They were a blue that shimmered with swirling silver that was ever moving and transforming.
At that moment the silver in her eyes reflected the stirred greys and greens and silvers of the storm around though.
She placed a cold hand onto the rain spatted window before she leaned her forehead against the cool glass, trying to reach her storm.

@Urby

Hi there! This start is very intriguing, and I hope you'll write more. Castle Thunder sounds like a frighteningly fascinating place to live.

You do a fair bit of homophone mixing (bread/breed, smelt/smelled, glass pain/glass pane)

I have a few suggestions for the first opening paragraph. Consider changing the order you present things. Here's an example:

There are things are known to all of those who live amongst the Western Islands: that a Siren is a very strange being, and that one must remain indoors when thunder begins to boom and when lighting begins to strike.

This presents the reader with the Setting first (Western Islands) and then another clue about genre (fantasy, with the mention of Sirens) soon after. It also implies that the people of the Western Islands are wise or suspicious, which may or may not be what you are intending to convey. It would contrast greatly with how open and curious Elda seems to be.