Silence

This is the first chapter of the story I was working on for NaNoWriMo 2005. I never completed the chalenge or the story, but it is a story idea that I still like a lot and I've grown quite atached to some of the characters. So I want to continue it.

Remember that this is a ROUGH first draft of the story. Other than basic spelling and grammer, I haven't changed much of this from NaNo 2005. I really would love your advice and critiques. I have already noticed some issues with this first chapter but before I point any of them out I want to hear what you have to say.

Thanks.





Chapter 1: The Sunrise and The Cattails



It was still dark when Mizzel awoke that breezy fall morning. The nearly full moon stared down upon the marshy landscape; the stars still sparkled in the sky. Only a small hazy glow on the eastern horizon gave any indication that dawn was near. Mizzel slowly sat up, forgetting for a moment where he was. A slight shiver ran up his spine. He breathed a quick prayer of thanks that there hadn’t been a frost that night. Wrapping his thick fur blanket around his shoulders, he looked about with sleepy eyes.

All was silent and still aside from the chilly breeze moving through the tall marsh grass and the distant tossing of the ocean waves. Mizzel tilted his head skyward and lazily watched the silhouettes of the towering cattails as they gently waved back and forth in the breeze. On one of the stalks he spotted a large slug, about the size of his arm. He watched as it slowly inched its way towards the heavens.

Mizzel glanced over at Stach, sound asleep, talking in his dreams. “Pass da hopper legs, wouldga, Mema?” Mizzel shook his head and smiled; even in his sleep the boy would not stop thinking of food. He turned his gaze over to where Hadge had been sleeping only to find he was not there. No surprise, Hadge was always an early riser, wanting to wake at least an hour before the sun.

Mizzel yawned deeply, rubbed the sleep from his eyes then shook his head of bristly brown hair. He stood to his feet and stretched, yawning once again.

“Finely, you decide to wake up.” Hadge’s voice filtered down from somewhere overhead.

“You’re crazy my friend. How in the world do you stay awake all day without collapsing from exhaustion?” Mizzel didn’t even bother to try and locate his comrade; he already knew that he had scaled a cattail to watch the sunrise. He lazily made his way towards the privacy of the tall grass to relieve himself.

“Sleep is a waste of time. Five hours is good enough for me.”

“I repeat: You’re crazy.” Mizz called up as he did his business.

“No, you’re just lazy.”

“I’m not lazy. I just enjoy me sleep is all.”

“Yeah, right.”

Hadge- you gotta love him. Mizzel shook his head with a sigh.

“Hey, once you’re finished watering the grass down there get your wet bum up here and watch the sun. It’s going to be good this time.” Hadge shouted a little loader then he needed to. Mizzel groaned. His mind was still half asleep. But he did as he was ordered; he pulled up his trousers then shimmied up the nearest stalk.

If you’ve never climbed to the very top of a tree in the middle of a forest and looked out onto the beginning of a new day from the top of the world, then you cannot relate to how it felt for Mizzel as his head broke the surface of the sea of grass.

The sun was just beginning to rise from its hiding place beyond the sea, setting the sky ablaze in shades of red and pink and orange. The wispy clouds seemed to gather around it, helping it to usher in a new day. Like banners, they spread across the sky, declaring the greatness of the sun. Everything on the ground was now a black silhouette with a golden trim, leaving even this dismal marsh with an aura of splendor. The meandering cannels of water were perfect mirrors, proudly reflecting the beauty of the sky. The stars overhead were reluctant to leave, they wanted to linger as long as they could so as not to miss the grand entrance of their king.

“Wow, would you look at that!” Hadge marveled at the sight.

Mizzel let out a long and low whistle.

“Aw, let those stuck up Elves keep their mansions of gold. I bet none of them have a view as spectacular as that!”

Mizzel looked towards his friend for the first time that morning. He was perched atop the highest and strongest blade, leaning forward into the sunrise. He had taken off his tanned leather shirt so that he could soak in everything around him. His fine blondish hair was blowing lazily in the breeze, his pointed ears sticking up well above the top of his head. His bright blue eyes were fixed straight ahead and his face glowed with extreme pleasure.

He looks so normal, no different from any other Fay, Mizzel thought silently to himself, He shouldn’t be here. He doesn’t deserve this, it just isn’t right. It isn’t right… not for him…not for any of us. He hesitated a moment then decided to ask,

“Do you really mean that, Hadge?”

“Mean what?”

“Mean what you just said. Are you really that happy here? You wouldn’t change things even if you could?”

Hadge looked at Mizzel with a mixed expression of offence, amusement and surprise.

“That’s… Mizz, that’s not what I meant. I was just talking about the sunrise.”

Mizzel looked away, slightly embarrassed. But then he continued on,

“Would you… if you could, you know… change it?” He fixed his eyes back onto the horizon so that he would not have to look at Hadge.

“Of course I would, Mizzel, you know I would. Any of us would if we could. It’s just…” Hadge sounded very reluctant to talk about it. He sighed and looked at his close friend. He studied his features closely as though he were going to have to take a test on Mizzel’s appearance later.

He looked at his bristly, sandy brown hair that stuck out in all directions, only failing to cover his large pointed ears. His gaze moved down onto his large, pointed, protruding nose with large, slightly flared nostrils. It was a nose that ironically reminded Hadge of a rat’s. Mizzel had two very small, sunken eyes that had a tendency to blink a lot and always looked like they were nervous, even when Mizzel was perfectly at ease. His lips were thin and appeared to be almost the same color as his tanned skin. His chin was also rather pointed; in fact everything about him seemed to be a little pointy. His hair, his ears, his nose, chin, fingers, toes, knees, even his slightly hunched back seemed kind of pointy for some odd reason.

If Hadge had to describe his friend in one word, other then pointed, that word would be scrawny. He wasn’t weak, necessarily; he was strong enough to get his work done faster then most boys his age, he was just skinny, kind of gangly… scrawny. He wore a thick, gray fur coat that made him look bigger then he really was. Under that he sometimes wore a thin, fiber woven shirt; but at the moment his chest was bare. Mizzel owned exactly two pairs of trousers, one brown and the other one a slightly darker brown. He would wear one pair for three days then wash them and wear the next pair. Both pairs were getting rather worn out, patched in several places and torn off at the knees. But Mizz never cared how he dressed, neither did anyone one else that knew him. He just figured that he was born ugly and that wasn’t going to change so why bother trying to cover that fact up. He stated this opinion quite proudly.

Hadge did not know why, but at that moment he pitied Mizzel, maybe it was only for the fact that the boy had never worn a pair of shoes in his life. But for whatever reason, Hadge felt sorry for him.

“Do you think it will ever change, Hadge? Will we ever be… normal?” Mizzel spoke so softly Hadge could barely hear him. There was a long moment of silence before Hadge answered him with another question.

“Are you sure you really want to know what I think?” Mizzel knew that he would not like the answer but he nodded his head none the less. So Hadge gave it to him, as blunt and to the point as any good friend should be. “We are never going to be normal, Mizz; not now, not tomorrow, not two-hundred years from now. Until the day that the last of our kind gets flogged to death in the street, only then will things be normal according to the rest of the world.” Hadge sighed deeply and waited, letting the facts hit Mizzel hard and sink in. Mizzel looked down and fixated his gaze on the soft ground a hundred feet below.

“I knew you were going to say something like that.”

“I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“No… but it’s the truth.” At last Mizzel brought himself to look at Hadge once more; his expressionless face masked the true pain he was feeling inside. Now Hadge was the one that could not look at Mizz.

“There’s always hope, Mizz. Remember that.” Those were the only words of comfort he could give. Mizzel scoffed slightly at the pointlessness of those words, yet he smiled and returned his eyes towards the sun once again.

“Yeah… There’s always hope.” He inhaled quickly and switched gears. “Well, I’ll go tack up the rats, you go wake Stach.” He pushed himself backwards from off the cattail’s brown head and slid down its waxy green stalk.

“Oh, sure! Give me the hard job why don’t ya!” Hadge shouted down after him. Mizzel laughed has he headed towards the underbrush to wake the rats. He quickly put his conversation with Hadge out of his mind. There was work to be done that day; there was no need for distraction.

Will it always be this way?

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“Everything has its wonders, even Darkness and Silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content.” ~Helen Keller~

"On the Way to Nowhere" (Short Story), Half Way There (Fantasy)

damien_frosst

"On one of the stalks he spotted a large slug, about the size of his arm"

This threw me for a while. You hadn't given a good impression of the speaker's size, so naturally, I assumed you meant a normal size person. A slug that big would be something to see!

Interesting start to the story. You've given a hint at things, without tipping your hand too much. Makes me wonder what kind of creature these people are. They're too small for men, and you've implied they're not elves.

Your description of Mizzel is a little rambling. You use the word "pointed" a little too often, and repeat that he has pointy ears. If pointed ears are normal for his kind, then it wouldn't make much sense for Hadge to notice them. Unless they were especially pointed, or droopy, or some other not-quite-the-same-as-everyone-else quality.

It's the differences (or the startling samnesses) that people notice. People tend to ignore the average and usual. The same holds true in a description.

I'm wondering just how large these people are. Reading through the piece I get varying impressions of bigness. Arms the size of slugs (well, slugs can be big or small). Able to ride rats (or at least use them as pack animals). Light enough to climb a cattail stalk. These aren't entirely compatible things. I suppose it could be possible to be about the size of a rat and also very, very light. Nailing down the size would do good things for consistency in the story, especially if they ever have to interact with any people-sized things.

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Damien

In my world, there are no heroes, only really polite villians.

BeyondPeru

I very much enjoyed the development of the narrative leading up to the rising of the sun. It tapped in to things familiar, yet also unfamiliar.

The following description struck me as odd, however:

Quote:

All was silent and still aside from the chilly breeze moving through the tall marsh grass and the distant tossing of the ocean waves. Mizzel tilted his head skyward and lazily watched the silhouettes of the towering cattails as they gently waved back and forth in the breeze.

I don't think you should say that all was silent and still except for some things that meant it wasn't actually silent and still. Even though you have said "except", it still remains a contradiction unless you quantify it e.g. say it was almost silent and still.

I agree with Damien that it is difficult to fully identify with a character unless you can picture them with some degree of certainty. This probably needs to be available right from the beginning.

It also seems to me that you began well, but then drifted into waffle.

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Graham_H

Silence

Thanks for the advice everyone. The issue about the uncertainty of their size is something I also noticed. This is a rather unusual story as far as size goes. Most of the characters in the story measure between 6 and 10 inches tall (in our own measurements), but as you'll notice in this first chapter it refers to the cattail heads being a hundred feet above the ground. Basically their measurement system is the same as the English measurements, only on a smaller scale. 1 foot in their system equals about 1 inch in our system.

The strange-er thing about this story is that there are no "big" humanoid creatures, no humans. Animals, plants and geological features are all the same size they are in our reality, but all sentient creatures are small. They still have cities and machines but they work on a slightly different scale. Get it?

Here is something might explain the whole awkwardness of description of Mizzel and Hadge. Ok *inhales deep breath*, There are two main races in this story, Fay and Troll, and there are many MANY subdivisions under each category. Fays include Faeries, Elves, Nymphs, etc. Trolls include Trolls (duh), Goblins, Dwarfs, and Gnomes, etc. These are then divided even further into specific "tribes" based on either their physical characteristics and/or their place of origin. Yes, complicated I know, it still has a lot of kinks to work out. Anyway, for the most part Fay and Trolls get along pretty well. They coexist and have equal rule in government. But one thing that is strictly forbidden by both law and all moral/religious standards of their society is that Fay and Troll must NEVER intermarry. This is something that has been ingrained into the people since the beginning of their history. The only problem is that since there are no class divisions between Fay and Troll friendships are free to develop among the races. One thing can lead to another and before long friends can become more than friends. And that is how the Half-Breeds are born. Half Fay, Half Troll, both races and yet neither. The Half-Breeds are shunned from society. If discovered, the parents of a Half-Breed are severely punished and the child is taken away. So, Half-Breed babies are usually either killed or abandoned by their parents before they are found out. (Alright, this short explanation is way too long) So basically scattered across the nation are Half-Breed colonies in which surviving Half-Breeds live together. Mizzel and his people are all Half-Breeds.

Yes, yes I have a tendency to ramble. I'm sorry. I really just wanted your initial impression of the story. Remember that this is fresh out of NaNo so it's very rough right now.

Really all I just told you is just scratching the surface of the back-story. There is so SOOO much more than goes into this story. It's so complicated, I love it! I really hope that I can pull this off.

Again thanks for your advice. I really appreciate it and welcome all you have.

~Silence~

__________________
“Everything has its wonders, even Darkness and Silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content.” ~Helen Keller~

"On the Way to Nowhere" (Short Story), Half Way There (Fantasy)

Silence

Sorry for double posting.

I thought you might want to see this too. This is actually the first thing I wrote when I came up with t.he idea for the story. It's not meant to be an actual chapter in the book, it was just a sort of practice writing I did for Mizzel's character. But it does give some insight into the plot of the story. Again, remember that this isn't very well polished, I just wrote this to get it onto paper and out of my every waking thought.

Tell me what you think.

"The Rat Racer"

"Racers, five minutes 'til go time. Get in your places, please!" a Nimbly Goblin shouted through a wooden megaphone atop a tall wooden announcer's stand. Mizzel shivered; whether from anticipation, the morning frost, or nerves, he couldn't tell. He looked down at the acorn he had been eating and suddenly discovered he had lost his appetite.

Moss, Mizzel's trusty brown marsh rat, looked at his master with pleading eyes. A high pitched grunt rippled from his throat.

"Here, knock yourself out." Mizzel handed the remains of his meal over to the animal who happily took it up in his hand-like paws and devoured it in seconds. The half breed smiled and patted the rodent on its side, "Good boy."

Mizzel sighed deeply then climbed onto Moss's back, setting himself back in the awkward cupped saddle. He placed his feet securely into the leather stirrups, took up the reins and leaned far forward, almost lying down on the rat's back.

"Let's get the grub." Mizz said as he urged the animal forward. This was a rat's equivalent to "Getup," if you promise a vermin that their will be food at the end of the road then you can get then to go anywhere. Moss squeaked slightly then hopped once and moved forward.

As Mizzel made his way towards the starting field he took the moment to observe just how many different riders there were and how many different types of animals they were riding. There were Forest Fays on squirrels, Brawny Swamp Trolls on giant toads, Nimbly Gobs on cats, he even saw a young Cave Fay riding a bat. Every clan was represented there. It was an amazing sight to see, yet Mizz was rather nervous through it all, he was the only creature of his kind in sight. As he passed by he got many dirty looks from the crowd around him, but he chose to ignore them.

"Make sure you have your Place Stone, everyone, or else you will not be able to prove you passed each check point." Someone shouted to the other racers. Mizzel felt inside his gray fur coat and pulled out the small rock that hung on a cord around his neck. It looked just like any other smooth gray stone one might find in the bottom a stream but this one had the racing seal on one side and his number, 13, on the other. Thirteen, Mizzel thought about that for a moment. Of course they would give him number thirteen, no one else wanted it. Oh well, he wasn't the superstitious type anyway.

He entered onto the starting field and headed towards the starting line, quickly finding the thirteenth slot, his starting position.

"Is this your first race?" The number fourteen racer asked without even looking at Mizz. She sat atop a large black raven that was suspiciously eying Moss, she had long black hair that was braided tightly into many cords and pulled back away from her face so that they ran down her back. Her clothing was all black; she wore a leather tank top that showed part of her belly and a pair of loose, breezy pants that had leather cords wrapped around her waist as a belt and girdle-like bands just above her knees.

"How can you tell?" Mizzel asked shyly. The girl hadn't seen what he was; surely she wouldn't be speaking to him if she had. But Mizzel spoke to her none the less, the worst thing he could do would be to pretend he hadn't heard her.

"You seem a bit antsy." She stated simply as she pushed a loose braid away from her face. "Here's a piece of advice, Rookie, quit while you still can." her voice was cold and focused. "I've been racing for five years now. Let me tell you, it's a hard life, not many can handle it, and once you start it's even harder to stop." She added under her breath, "It's kind of like a drug that way."

Mizzel pondered her words carefully but he knew that he couldn't drop out of this race even if he wanted to, in fact he did want to; he was no racer, he was a hunter. He was use to living off the land, fighting for survival, but competition meant nothing to him. Money meant nothing to him; it wasn't like he was aloud to spend it anywhere anyway. Racing was nothing to him, but this race and the ones to follow it were everything to him. If he didn't at least complete the races then his life as he knew it would be over.

"I'm Tori, the Elvin Fay of Cloumount. Remember that name, boy, because some day it's going to go down in the record books." She flashed her gaze in Mizzel's general direction but her eyes did not remain on him long enough for any of his features to even register in her mind; she quickly looked back in front of her, obviously very anxious to get a move on.

"Um... I... It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss. I am Mizzel, the… uh... the Nim Troll Fay of Nordmarsh." He stated hesitantly, preparing himself for the worst. Tori turned and stared in shock at the boy.

"Nim Troll Fay?" her face cringed with disgust as she realized what she was talking to. "You're a Half-Breed!"

"You no good Froll!" Mizzel turned with a start to see a rather large, angry, eavesdropping Nim Troll seated atop a polecat. He dropped from his mount and stormed over to the boy, yanking him down from off the rat. He grabbed and held him up by his fur collar, shaking him violently as he spat off a long line of profanity. "You half bred Scum! How dare you come here and disgrace both Troll and Faerie alike?!" Mizzel tried to speak but the Troll shook him again before he could get any words out. "How dare you, Low Life! You slimy Son of a Whore! It's bad enough that they have let one of your kind actually enter the race, but now you come here and dare call yourself a Troll and Faerie! You're neither! You here me? Neither!" The Troll brought the back of his fist across Mizzel's terrified face.

Mizzel tried not to cry as he spoke, "Sir, forgive me, I was merely honoring my parents. My father was a Nimbly Troll and my mother a Forest Faerie. Please Sir, I meant no offense, I..." The Troll brought his fist across the young man's face again.

"You honor no one, Half-breed. The day you were conceived you disgraced the world! You were born an outcast, you will die an outcast. You're scum! Half-bred scum!" He spat right in Mizzel's face. Tears began to flow down the Half-Breed's tanned cheeks. "Now tell me, Worm, what are you?"

"I'm scum." Mizzel's voice cracked as he answered.
"I can't hear you!" The troll squeezed his grip on the boy even tighter. By now everyone in sight and earshot was watching what was going on.
"I'm scum! I'm scum!" Mizzel said louder, his throat clogged with a sob.
"You're half-bred scum!"
"I'm half-bred scum."
"Now tell everyone your name."
"I-I am..."
"So that everyone can hear you or I'll break your arms!"
"I am Mizzel... The Half-Bred Scum of Nordmarsh!"

With that the Troll threw Mizzel to the ground, spat on his head, then turned and remounted his animal; followed by a round of laughter and applause from the crowd.

Mizzel wiped the tears from his eyes and the small trickle of blood that came from his over-sized nose. He pulled his fur hood over his bristly brown Troll hair and pointed Faerie ears, then slowly returned to his feet. He tried the best he could to ignore the boos and insults that were thrown his way. He hesitated at first then slowly turned his beady black eyes up towards Tori, her eyes were fixed straight ahead like before, she acted as though nothing had happened. But her cheeks were a little red, either from anger or embarrassment, Mizzel couldn't tell.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, get in your places please, the race is about to start!" The goblin's voice rang out once again. Mizzel took a deep, shaky breath then pulled himself back into the saddle. He fixed his gaze straight ahead, his vision still slightly blurred with tears.

"On your marks..." Everyone shifted slightly, “Get set..."

"What am I doing here?" this thought ran through Mizzel's mind as he tightened his grip on the reins.

"Go!" And with that simple word the crowd of racers lurched forward and Mizzel's life was forever changed.

__________________
“Everything has its wonders, even Darkness and Silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content.” ~Helen Keller~

"On the Way to Nowhere" (Short Story), Half Way There (Fantasy)

damien_frosst

The explanation helps. It's a little odd to have a world with big animals and small people, but that could make for some very interesting writing.

I do like the race scene you've got there. Looks like an interesting start to things.

One thing you should watch for is your use of homonyms. Words that sound like other words, but have different spelling. I saw "aloud" for "allowed" and a couple other places with similar swaps.

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Damien

In my world, there are no heroes, only really polite villians.

Silence

Oh yeah, that is a problem I have. I've gotten better about it though. I'll have to go back and fix those.

Thanks

__________________
“Everything has its wonders, even Darkness and Silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content.” ~Helen Keller~

"On the Way to Nowhere" (Short Story), Half Way There (Fantasy)

penforhire

What's NaNo?

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Always without desire we must be found,
if the deepest mystery we would sound,
but if desire within us be,
its outer fringe is all we shall see.

damien_frosst

penforhire: NaNo refers to NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. www.nanowrimo.org.

The idea is to write a 50,000 word "novel" in the space of 30 days. It's held annually in November. Check it out.

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Damien

In my world, there are no heroes, only really polite villians.