[BETA Read] A small Chapter of my novel

[Ello,

I've been brainstorming this story/ novel/ thing for like four years now. I've started writing it and was hoping to post a BETA snippet here. This is a weird blend of fantasy with minor sci-fi qualities. This section (whole chapter but it feels too short) is the first chapter in the second act of the book. This is the third total/ complete re-write from scratch of the same exact scene.

Any and all advice of any kind, preferably constructive, would be appreciated. Thank you!]



The covered wagons had proven a difficult, uncomfortable ride. Up the rocky, mountainous trail the recruits had been bumped and rattled far too much it seemed. Eshwyn pulled her fedora over her eyes. The bleak, clouded sky was grey and joyless over the cold wilderness. Even within the shelter of the wagon, the chill made way into the passenger carts. The wind caused the wagons to groan, the horses pulling them spooking on several occasions.

Nonetheless, they made it. At last, the wagons made a jerky, shaky stop. As the horses neighed and folks murmured incoherently, Eshwyn pushed her hat’s brim up. Well, here we are. In this cold, miserable wasteland.

There were several other passengers in the wagon with her, all of whom she had ignored most of the trip. Isolde had been sitting behind her, striking up idle, gentle conversation with the others. Their names or origins Eshwyn could not recall. She had been spending the entirety of the ride feeling sorry for herself.

A squint-eyed, black haired man of eastern origins, carrying light but formidable equipment, lept out. The entire wagon shook wildly as the thud of boots to the ground sounded outside. Eshwyn was the last to get up, finally standing from the stiff, frigid bench. As a caramel haired young man lept out, shivering under his poncho, Eshwyn picked up her pack and following the group out.

The ground was muddy, the early autumn air pierced her skin and bones. Eshwyn scowled, loathing the fact that her father forced her to come out here.

“Hey,” Isolde put her ice cold hand on her shoulder, “Cheer up. We’re finally here!”

Eshwyn turned to her friend. Her brown eyes were excited, yet nervous. Her skin was swarmed with goosebumps, her body slightly shaking in anxiety.

Eshwyn felt a sly smile curve her face, “You’re nervous. And cold, like me.”

Isolde looked down, her cheeks lighter than usual in a blush. “Y-yes…”

Eshwyn sighed, her breath visible. As crummy as she felt, she knew Isolde needed encouragement. Eshwyn was just mad at her father, and the weather. At least she knew how to defend herself!

Isolde continued to speak, “I mean - who knows what this ‘initiation program’ is. I can’t even hold a quarterstav correctly…”

Eshwyn snorted, recalling the “Training sessions” she attempted to teach her friend, only breeding hilarious and sad results. Upon seeing Isolde’s crestfallen face, however, Eshwyn straightened up.

“Relax, Isolde. You’ll get it eventually. Until then, I got your ba-”

“-Hey, sis!”

Isolde jumped, turning around with a sudden beam. Eshwyn knew why, she watched as a mid-teenage boy dashed towards them. He shared Isolde’s oak eyes, olive skin, and round facial features. His curled hair bounced as he ran, the falchion and quiver of arrows hung on his belt both rattling. He waved at them, never minding the dirty ground.

Isolde took his hand as he caught up to them, smiling from ear to ear, “Why are you here?”

Isolde’s eyes glowed, “I joined up, Ignacio.”

Ignacio, her brother, took a step back, “You sure you got what it takes?”

“Pfft!” Isolde scoffed, “No!”

Ignacio tilted his body to the side, eying Eshwyn, “But she does, so…”

Eshwyn looked down, observing her signature Thion coat of arms and the weapons she carried, “Yeah…”

“Ignacio?”

Another joined their little party. She was shorter, scrawny; with jet black hair. Her eastern heritage was obvious, with how she carried a wakizashi on her waist and kusarigama behind her back. Her light, tatami armor shone black and proud as she watched Ignacio with a blank, serious expression. “We should get to the drop off zones now, if we are to stick together.”

Ignacio glanced at his older sister with a disappointed glance, then held up his hand, “Azami and I are kinda sticking together, so…”

Isolde chuckled, “Oh, it’s fine! Go on ahead.”

Ignacio nodded to the two girls before following his teammate towards these so called “drop off zones.”

“Drop off zones?” Isolde asked herself, running towards the steep cliff tops ahead. Eshwyn followed her as they merged into the crowd of other recruits, ranging from so many cultures and lands. The girls finally made it to the edge, looking down into…

Isolde’s eyes widened “Wow, so this is!”

Eshwyn’s eyes narrowed, recalling the name of this place well from historical texts, “Malum.”

The ancient walls were massive, shooting up to the cliff’s length at ninety meters tall. Made of powerful stone, the circular wall surrounded an abandoned city of houses made of stone, through magical means. The box shaped, perfectly cube homes were subjected to terror long ago.

It was here that a voice shouted from behind them, “Recruits! Attention to me!”

All the chattering of the crowd swiftly dropped as all turned their attention to Eiran Thion, whom stood atop a makeshift stage of crates. Eshwyn crossed her arms, squinting against the wind as he shouted to be heard.

“You all have gathered here today for one purpose: to join the ranks of The Pioneers. Do you have what it takes, however?”

Eshwyn heard Isolde gulp beside her. Her eyes darted around the crowd. She saw a young, dark skinned boy fiddling with his fingers behind his back. Eshwyn blinked, returning her gaze to her father.

“This initiation process will give you every opportunity to prove yourself.” Eiran pushed his hair out of his face, raising his voice above the wind, “Only those whom pass our standards of entry shall make it into the ranks.”

A flash of familiarity crossed her eyes. Once again, she gazed away from him. She saw that indeed, Tristan Derringer was within the crowd, maintaining a stern military stance. In fact, Eshwyn spied several within this crowd who carried military backgrounds, evident in everything from body language to what they wore. Telling these ones apart from just mercenaries, bandits, and those who never learned to fight was obvious as day.

“Now,” Eiran cried out, “You came with survival and defensive equipment. Good. You will soon be lowered into the city of Malum.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Not all knew of Malum’s story, yet words of dismay spread like wildfire from those who did and those who caught onto it.

Eiran waited for the whispers to calm, then spoke again, “You will encounter Monsters there.”

More shocked cries were emitted from crowd. Eshwyn herself felt shocked. It was not like her father to put anyone in purposeful danger. Eshwyn glared, dark confusion clouding her mind. Okay, what are you not telling us?

“Fight, survive, in any way you can. Just make it to the Well Tower at the keep near the harbor. This will determine if you join or not.”

Isolde was shaking, clenching the staff in her hand in panic, “Is he mad?”

Eshwyn put her hand on her friend’s shoulder.

Eiran pointed with a firm hand towards the lifts, “Good luck. May the glory of the Great Entities shine in your favor.”

Before Isolde could speak, Eshwyn turned to her, “I know this doesn’t make sense.”

“No,” Isolde quivered, “It does not.”

Eshwyn felt herself soften upon seeing her so terrified, “Hey, we’re in this together. I won’t let anything happen to you.” She smiled, “With your smarts and my skill, we can survive anything!”

From the distance someone broke out crying, “Why are they doing this to us?!”

Eshwyn’s eyes dilated, “I-I do stand behind that.”

Isolde rolled her eyes, amused despite Eshwyn’s own worries, “Come on, you.”

They gathered their supplies and walked towards the nearest lift. As so many panicked and cried, others showed bravery yet. Eshwyn spied a dark skinned man with messy, long hair look down from his lift with a disturbing anticipation, his pole arm already prepared for the storm ahead. She saw that Tristan was nervous yet calm as he readied himself for this drill. The eastern man who they had travelled with seemed completely unnerved by it all, striding towards a lift like this all was a walk in the park.

The sturdy, wooden lift Eshwyn and Isolde stood upon swayed slightly from the wind. Eshwyn did not doubt its stability as they started to lower down. Eshwyn turned around a final time. She heard someone call mockingly from the crowd, “Oh, you sad, human cowards! Us synthetics were born forced to survive like this, spineless softies!”

She spied some of the civilian members flocking around those more experienced ones who allowed it. Two young women, one in tears, stood close to an armed man in a poncho similar to the one worn by someone from Eshwyn’s own wagon. One young man was huddled on the ground, in the fetal position.

As the lift lowered, Eshwyn looked one final time at her father, unmoving from his position. He watched her with gentle, loving eyes. His expression said everything. Eshwyn smiled with that old, dormant warmth towards him.

I love you too. And I won’t let you down.

This is really good Flamebird. I have a couple of comments and can easily expand.

My main concerns would be pacing and character introduction. You throw a lot at the reader at once and could take more time developing the world and the plot. I love the main twist of fatherhood, and the names you use. Clarity is also an issue in parts, but the set up for the story looks really intriguing.

Would you like me to do a full rubric on this? Or I could go through it segment by segment and mark our the best bits and areas for development.

Ailsa/Phi

Thank you for replying my beta thread!

Thanks for the pacing tip. I keep reading about how readers lose interest really quickly, and I feel like I have to describe things/ characters quickly or the "flow" suffers. Plus, not entire physical descriptions are needed right? But I can see your point. As for clarity, this is set in Act 2 of the novel, so sorry if stuff is confusing, lol!

I'd save full rubrics for seperate scenes added. Feels like a massive amount of time to spend a whole rubric on a single scene. I have the first half of chapter 1 for example.

I can’t believe my father’s putting me through this!

The horse charged through the forest. The coniferous trees limited her view of anything and everything, the dark green pine needles flooding the forest in fresh, earthy pine scent. She knew, however, as her brown eyes narrowed, that she was being followed.

It would be just horrible if the heir to the Thion family throne was shredded by a monster, huh?

She growled, forcing her steed to race faster. Even so, the thundering of mindless monsters' feet and hooves clamored behind her. She gasped, internally panicking. Why, father, why?!

Then, the last bit of forest flew past. The steed broke free from the shadow of the pine trees, bursting into a grassy field of sunlight. The horse’s hooves pounded against the cool ground. Up ahead, the protective wall separating monsters from men was in view. The Thion eyed the Trap ahead. It was a circular wall hub without a ceiling. The opened cage doors of the Trap begged for her to enter, welcoming her to the safety of the walls.

Then my job will be done. Hooray.

She dared to look back. Turning her head, she squinted through her whirling dirty blond hair. Trailing behind her, numerous, were the vile Well Monsters. They were unnatural, not abiding to any single animal form. Hooves, beaks, fur, tails, scales, feathers… the ink black creatures had it all meshed in the most abominable, hideous manner.

In their mindless states, they targeted the nearest living thing – Eshwyn Thion.

Almost there!

She clung onto the reigns of her steed, which also seemed to understand the danger chasing them. The stallion snorted with long, hot breaths of heavy air as it roared on. Nearing the gate, Eshwyn eyed the archers lined across the inner round battlements and flat wall tops. The shadow of the archway loomed as they finally darted through. Above them, the machicolations and hoardings lined alongside the two way battlements. Eshwyn looked back again. One monster was right behind her. The young woman gasped, forwarding the horse into another gate across the yard. Upon entering, she heard shouts from above, “Close the gates!”

Thus, metal bar gates were cast down. Eshwyn looked back, several monsters were reaching through the gate for her, while others attempted in vain to climb the smoothed out walls. With all the monsters within the Trap, the other gate was slammed shut. Within the cool, dark inner wall, Eshwyn dismounted. Immediately grabbing a bow and quiver of arrows from a weapons rack, she bolted up a small, stone stairway. Soon enough, she was alongside the other archers whom loomed above the trapped creatures of darkness. As the mindless beasts clamored and tried to do something to escape and destroy, Eshwyn heard a familiar voice boom from the wall top.

“Fire at will!”

Instantly, every soul there pulled back their bows and volleyed down fire upon the monsters. They fell like flies under the raining arrows. Eshwyn was sharp eyed and skilled, firing up to two arrows per second. It was in a matter of moments that every monster was dead, spiraled across the trampled ground.

As per usual, the Trap was a success.

The voice once again sounded from above, “Excellent work, soldiers. Fall back behind the walls.”

Eshwyn only had two arrows left in her quiver. She sighed, putting the bow behind her back and following the others back down the stairs. The chestnut horse she rode had already been taken back to the stables. She was sure the frightened animal would be treated to a reward of carrots and a nice washing. She handed her tools back to the stock manager in the corner. Then, she strode through the swinging gates, back to the safety of Autchergarth’s territories.

* * *

Most of the soldiers who participated in the operation were relaxing, having fun. In the mead hall, they feasted and drank away to their hearts content. The poor bartender was practically hiding behind the counter, holding up a hose of beer like it was a defensive crossbow. The red wood house was warm. The fireplaces and hearths were strongly lit; the benches and seats cozy. Alongside the long, skinny tables men and women enjoyed hot soups and fresh breads, The various smells of bean and ham soup, filled with creamy broth and cut vegetable medleys, made her mouth water. The sweet smelling, leavened breads scent up such an incredible scent. As she made way towards the exhausted looking server to ask for her share, however, that familiar voice called from a nearby table.

“Duchess Thion, my daughter!”

She turned to see her father motioning her to sit alongside him.

She forced on a smile, walking over to join him and the company surrounding him.

“Father.” She gave him the proper bow.

The middle aged man smiled, motioning her to sit alongside him. “Come. You have deserved rest and a hot meal.”

She noticed that he had already ordered her portions. She sat down, giving him an appreciative, earnest smile. Well, he knows I almost got maimed out there! He is a good man though…

He placed a hand on her shoulder as she ripped apart a piece of bread, forgetting to mind her manners. “Of course my daughter could do it. She is the future heir after all.”

She almost choked on the bread, but forced herself to swallow. Catching onto the uncomfortable hint to sit up straight, she took smaller bites of her bread as she watched him warily.

Please don’t remind me… This massive weight on my shoulders!

For all her anxious thoughts, she smirked instead. “I have only done my service, gentlemen.”

Chapter II:

A body slammed into him, causing him to trip. He caught himself before he dropped, out of luck. He looked up, but the crowd around him was a jumbled mess. It was impossible to find out who pushed him.

He scowled.

Summer was ending, and autumn was rolling in with cold dread. Despite the cloudless, shinning sun beating down upon the earth, winds and weather were trapped within chill. Shivering, the teen pulled his white coat around him. One of the long sleeves dropped, revealing the S on his wrist.

Eyes squinted against the sun, he growled.

Pulling the sleeve up again, he pushed through the large crowd. Shouting, murmuring, bustling voices. The sun rained heat onto his snow colored hair, yet his body was cold. The two extremes were uncomfortable within the morning light. As refuges crowded together, he grimaced. Get this over with!

He hated being with them. These people. Their kind. Yet, he had the same needs as them. Thus, he had to suffer.

“Attention!”

He looked up. Through the blinding sunlight he saw a official standing on a stage. His silhouette was black against the blinding light.

“Your rations are to be handed out as usual. Go in your line of number.”

He frowned again, Well, we’re all being treated like animals here. So…

Even then, a fight broke out. “I need this double ration! Please!”

“Sir, you know regulations.”

“I have not eaten in days! Give it to me!”

Through the forest of people, the short teen heard a fist fight broke out. He scoffed.

It doesn’t change a thing about them!

The going was slow. More fights broke out between a single mother and a man squabbling to snatch bread from her hands. Bread was all they had. His stomach growled as the smell of the bread entered his nostrils. Even when it was stale, in his state, he felt hunger burning in his stomach.

Forgotten leftovers for forgotten leftovers…

Eventually, it was his turn. The number of people has dropped, most leaving to eat elsewhere. The dirt ground was bare and stretched under the sun, finally warming the yard. After so long, he reached out with a bony yet toned arm to a single, pathetic loaf of bread.

To have to rely on them for sustenance!

Suddenly, a hand latched onto his shoulder. He gasped, he was thrown back by a middle-aged man. He growled, “Me first, synthetic!”

The S on his wrist.

He seethed with gritted teeth, “It’s my turn.”

The man rolled his eyes, “Humans first!”

That familiar rage burned within him.

He stepped forward, daring to step past the man. As he reached for him again, the synthetic swatted his hand away. He never looked at him eyeing his bread. You don’t own me!

“Hey!”

He turned around, ducking from the punch the man would be throwing. Expertly poised, the synthetic threw a hard punch at the man’s chest. He flew back, thudding against the ground. Dust and dirt floated in a cloud as he coughed. The remaining people watched as the boy’s eyes widened. His face churned from pale white to forge red.

“I am free, scum! You humans think you own us! We’re cattle for your slaughter!” He kicked the ground, sending more dirt up. Fists clenched, he raised his arm to the sky. “Well, not me! We are no longer slaves! I am Clandestine, and I will avenge your wrongs, savages!”

As the man attempted to stand up, Clandestine spit on his face, kicking him to the ground again. Then he turned, grabbed his bread from the stunned giver, and stalked towards the archway leading towards the town. On the way, he saw a woman with two loaves. He swiped one straight from her hand and bit into it as he left the area stunned.

https://fsmedia.imgix.net/b8/1b/4c/d...edges&fit=crop
This is in like, Act 3 or 4 or something.


The stairway was long. The darkening sky proved to make climbing difficult. The rail was the only thing helping to keep Eshwyn on the steep steps. High enough in elevation, they were able to feel a light breeze again. Isolde gasped in relief from behind, obviously welcoming the cool winds. Poinsettia meanwhile shivered, still unused to colder climates.

Eshwyn was tired. Endlessly hiking was taking an obvious toll on the entire group. Eshwyn looked behind her. Under the rune light glowing in Isolde’s hand, Citrine was already half asleep. Her eyes had circles beneath them, her eyelids half closing over her amber orbs. Her arms were swaying like dead weight in at her sides. Her footsteps were clumsy, Isolde being the one to guide her so she would not trip.

Aeva and Poinsettia were at the rear of the group. Aeva had swung her cloak over Poinsettia, sharing its warmth and comfort. Aeva’s hood was over her, shadowing her face.

Eshwyn looked forward again, bleak and exhausted. Her mind still drifted towards the fellows she failed to save. She shivered from it, the chill of knowing she failed far deeper than the nipping air. I failed them…

She looked back at the group. Isolde barely was standing, yet she was still aiding Citrine. Aeva and Poinsettia were slow as well, Aeva now supporting the synthetic with her shoulder.

I can’t fail you!

Yet, the danger of uncontrolled Monsters still hung in the air, even this high up. The protective walls of the keep’s moat were still stairways high, Eshwyn gritted her teeth, We’re too exhausted to even function well! What do we do?

She looked helplessly at Isolde, but Isolde’s drooping eyes were gazing between Citrine and the stairs. As she heard a yawn from one of the girls in the back, Eshwyn sighed. Eyes closed, she considered stopping at the nearest turn.

Wide enough for all of us to sleep on, and close to the Keep in case of an emergency. Is it wise though? Even if we take turns on watch…

Still musing, she turned back towards the direction of the steps, her aching legs begging for rest. She instead pushed herself harder, continuing to set her stern, calm example. Her confident facade. Meanwhile, she internally still was falling apart.

The sound of rocks falling sounded just ahead.

She stopped dead in her tracks. Paranoia kicked in as her crazed senses reached out, her stomach leaping to her chest. Her hand instinctively fell on her remaining sword.

“Eshwyn!” Isolde hissed, startled out of her daze.

Eshwyn pulled out her sword, turning around and putting her lips over her mouth. A signal to stay quiet.

However, Isolde’s eyes widened. Suddenly going pale, she screamed, “Behind you!”

The sound of claws scrapping the wall of the staircase resounded. The thud of paws on the steps sealed their fate. Eshwyn turned around, gaping at a monster twice the size of her.

It’s simple! She screamed at herself for her fear, Go for the heart! That’s it! Protect your team!

She lifted her sword, pointing it at the creature. It gazed upon her with unfeeling, merciless insanity.

She took a step forward, but misplaced her stepping. Suddenly, she was on the ground. The sword clanged against the stair, then she heard it completely fall off the railings. Her eyes widened. No!

That was when he showed up.

Suddenly, a flash of blue light fell upon the group. Eshwyn looked up, above them a group of soldiers stood with rune lights, illuminating the darkness. Her eyes widened she gazed on, spotting several more Monsters hanging on the stairways above with everlasting bloodlust, eyes boring into the group.

Isolde gasped, “Oh thank the Great Entities! Please save us!”

From next to Isolde, Citrine practically shouted, sounding more awake than she ever had been. “You!”

Eshwyn saw a flash of steel, then – the monster was slain. Cut clear through the body, through the heart, the halved Monster fell as a man stood, katana glowing in the blue light. Another two Monsters dropped from above. In a split second, they were downed too.

Such speed…

Every time a Monster approached, he took it out like it was nothing. These ferocious enemies of all things living… made mere toys out of this eastern descended man. His brown eyes and pale features were all too familiar.

As the last one was struck down, she stood up. Saluting him, she greeted him, “Wasureta Nishimura, sir!”

The blade was placed back in its sheath lazily. Nishimura turned with drowsy eyes back at the group, “Thion.” He nodded, “Your father will be glad to know you’re alright.”

The mention of her father sent chills down her spine.

“S-sir?” Poinsettia shivered from behind, hugging an equally freezing Aeva.

Wasureta was eying Citrine, who glared at him with all the hatred in the world. His gaze was filled with a distant emotion Eshwyn could not detect. She was too tired and shocked to even try to decipher it. How do they know each other?

Hi Flamebird, I'm going to sit down this weekend and take a good look at these chapters and see what I think.

Do you have any particular questions?

Thank you, Phi!

I do feel like the Clandestine chapter is missing immersion and details. Any tips on improvement? Also, I personally don't do anything cussing, so I need others ways to make jerk characters jerks since I just don't use cussing. :P

Is the racist jerk racist enough? How do I make the racist guy more racist? Dangerous? And gosh does Clandestine's dialogue feel cheesy...

And how OP does Wasureta feel? He's purposely meant to be, so...

Hey Flamebird,
Do you have discord. I feel like having a conversation going about this might be good.

Only if you want. I'll also pop up an assessment here tomorrow as I have the day off work.

Hey Flame, sorry it has taken me so long to get back to you. Here is some commentary that I hope helps, in Stare.

Okay things I think work really well;

You definitely construct character excellently, and portray your main persons strongly. Each have their own defined personality traits. The names are also great and you can feel some of them. More writing and conversations between your mains will develop them further.

Your action sequences are written really well and clearly. I think they have defined purpose to them, which you know we like on Althanas, but they also are working well in the novel. I would love to read more of this, in order and with chapters to see how the actions build to larger ones. I can imagine that you build plot like this, with consequences and so on.

I LOVE this bit: "Summer was ending, and autumn was rolling in with cold dread."

Things that could do with some work:

I think your language at times could do with less colloquialisms, more defining for a novel. For instance, using the following - "As crummy as she felt" - can be said in a more creative, provoking way.

Plot is sometimes very fast to jump to a sudden climax. I think in these parts you can put in more detail, try things like describe more of what is felt, seen, heard etc. What are the reactions around those who are witnessing it?

Now to answer those questions:

I do feel like the Clandestine chapter is missing immersion and details. Any tips on improvement?

Is this all there is for this? You could definitely develop it and add depths, such as a development of the story.

Also, I personally don't do anything cussing, so I need others ways to make jerk characters jerks since I just don't use cussing. :P

Make up your own swears.

Is the racist jerk racist enough? How do I make the racist guy more racist? Dangerous? And gosh does Clandestine's dialogue feel cheesy...

I can tell he is racist, definitely. The whole synthetic vs human thing is developed and is strong. Adding some depth and further dialogue to this entire chapter will I think maybe it clearer.

And how OP does Wasureta feel? He's purposely meant to be, so...

Not too much tbh. I think he is balanced.

Check our your capitals on some part.

Hey, I just saw this today! I read through chapter 1 and the prologue, and really enjoyed them both. There was one thing that jumps off the page to me:

You could really be helped with an editor, particularly with formatting dialogue. Lots of it can improve dramatically with only very slight technical tweaks. Here's an example:

Quote:

---

Isolde’s eyes widened “Wow, so this is!”

Eshwyn’s eyes narrowed, recalling the name of this place well from historical texts, “Malum.”

---

This was a little funky to me, since as the reader, I think of someone constructing a sentence saying "Wow, so this is!" and then stopping. You wouldn't do that, right? Consider a little reformatting:

Quote:

---

Isolde’s eyes widened “Wow, so this is...”

"...Malum." Eshwyn interrupted, as her eyes narrowed, recalling the name of this place well from historical texts.

---

I say the same thing in just about every rubric I write out for everyone I've ever judged. Take an hour, or better yet a day, and re-read your own work as if reading for the first time. It's the only way to catch stuff like this that you'd never notice as you're writing it out on your own.

Overall, I really, really enjoy your work, and look forward to reading everything here.