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Moonbeast32
June 22nd, 2019, 05:12 PM
An idea that came to me during work today. I wanted to make it sound like a song. Hopefully its prose isn't too purple.



It hung in the sky, motionless, unmoving. Betwixt the firmament of stars above, and the fields of grass below, there dwelt Urian: Glory of the East, Shame of the West, The House of Truth.
No torches lit its halls. No banners adorned its pillars. No gemstones bejeweled its stairways. No tapestry clothed its walls. There was no need, for the consummate architecture was beauty enough. The whole was made of blemish-less blanchstone so white, it appeared to consume the very darkness itself.
A permeating stillness dominated the entire structure. No acolyte swept the too-clean floors. No Petitioners knelt at the unmarred alters. No priest disturbed the reflective surface of the oil vessels. Desolation was Urian’s solitary patron, custodian, and master. Not even motes of dust dared trespass within.
There were 5 levels, each one smaller, yet more glorious then the last. As one would climb the cascading staircases, the stone grew more pure, the fountains grew more regal, the ceiling reliefs grew more majestic. It was once said by ancient poets that no mortal could contemplate the fulness of divinity the 4th level contained without transcending into the heavens evermore.
As one would reach the 5th level, there would Urian’s glory would come to an abrupt and jarring end. In this, the smallest chamber in all the temple, the floor, walls and pillars were featureless and plain. Perhaps the ceiling would have been just as plain, but instead, the chamber’s 4 pillars ended in jagged angles. A good portion of the western wall was also missing. Yet even here, in the marred 5th chamber, no rubble dusted the floor.
In the center of the 5th chamber stood 3 features. The prime altar was the largest of all altars in Ur, but also the plainest. To its right was a short pillar with a thin ribbon of carved stone that spiraled around it from the floor to the top. To the prime altar’s left was simple carved chair.
Ur had faded from memory, from legend, from myth. There was nobody left who admired the majesty of its halls, no one left who grieved for the broken chamber.
It hung in the sky, motionless, unmoving. Betwixt the proud moons above, and the serene clouds bellow. Completely still, as if it never existed at all.


A streak of malachite green ferociously shot across the sky. It parted the clouds leaving a cone of clarity in its wake. It flew with such commanding force that the air itself caught fire as it tore past, coating the streak in a mantle of brilliant blue. The terrible image of its passing so exuded overwhelming power that the field beasts hid in their dens, and even the trees bowed away lest peradventure a single handspan of distance from the streak’s frightful aura marked the difference between continued existence, and total annihilation. An Unstoppable force, and pity for any man, beast, or particle that stood in its path. It came from the East.

A flare, like a fuchsia star shone from the heavens. It moved from horizon to horizon, painting a conical column of scarlet embers in its wake. It had the luster of a hungry man’s hearthfire, the color of a distant brazier on a deep southern night. The flora and fauna below seemed to drink in the light of its embers. The land all about became bathed in a pink glow, like the effulgent duskfires seen on distant worlds. Graceful, yet unmovable, like a queen from antient myth. blessed is all creation under which it flew. It came from the West.
An unstoppable power, an unmovable peace. Both flew in a straight course towards Ur. And so they converged in the broken 5th chamber. Facing one another across the altar, there was no corner, nor nook where their light did not reach. And then, for the first time in millennia, voices rang throughout the halls.
Barab et shuultan, Valarine.
Barab et shuultan, Elbarat.
So, the boy? You’ve seen him, I presume?
Yes. Although the mark you gave him has begun to fade. Don’t you recall that humans grow up at around 17 years?
You know my experience with them is, well, lacking. Not counting you, of course. That is why I invited you here.
“Lacking?” That’s one way to put it. Sometimes it seems to me that “stubbornly ignorant” would be a better way to describe you.
Regardless, I want to know what you think of him.
I can see why you took a liking to him in particular. The other folk of Seresteen have certainly kept their… er… affinity for law and order.
This displeases you?
They live like machines, Elbarat. Where is their love? Their passion? Strict austerity may have worked with the Nobiroo, but humans are different. They respond best to a gentle touch. As he is now, the rest will only fear him.
It will be enough.
Will it? Wasn’t that our methodology in raising the last Servecio?
Skeld, as I recall, had too much passion. That was where we went wrong. He kept getting distracted. By the time he found resolve it was already too late. We had to reset Norebar a total of 4 times under his tenure. We cannot afford another reset, Valarine, we just can’t.
Which is exactly why we should be trying out different methodologies. There is nothing left to lose, after all.
Valarine, If we end up needing to perform a reset, and the Tem dies, I don’t know what will happen. We could lose everything. We could..
I could.. I could lose you.
Valarine, I’m scared.
Elbarat, my light. It won’t come to that. Remember what The Master promised us. We will succeed. There can be no other way now.
As always, your faith is a salve to my soul. I still can’t help but be worried.
Of course, of course. Still, the boy doesn’t need to be so cold.
It is too late. I cannot mark another. We’ll just have to work with him.
Well then, I’ll teach him to laugh. I’ll teach him to cry. Its about time Norebar learns these things.
Of course, there is also the issue of his parentage.
I am aware. I have requisitioned a blood transmutation.
At his age!? Do you realize what that that can do to a person’s mind?
Did you not say we have nothing left to lose?
It just seems cruel, that’s all. It may be the only way, but still unfair.
Perhaps it may even do him some good in the end.

Edit: I just posted this not 5 minutes ago, and already im partial to scraping and rewriting the whole thing. However, someone once told me that writers should avoid editing stuff on the fly. Any thoughts on that?

Ralph Rotten
June 22nd, 2019, 06:07 PM
I liked the beginning, it was almost a sing-songy way to tell the story. You were painting the world well, then I'm guessing you had to do something at work, came back and picked up at this line
"There were 5 levels..." and it seemed to change. The floor descriptions were a bit muddy.

Then you got back to some straight illustration, and it was going well until the dialog.
Dialog was a little skinny, which made it confusing. Needs some meat on its bones.

Keep practicing. Usain Bolt ran thousands of miles before he ever won any gold medals.

Moonbeast32
June 23rd, 2019, 02:43 AM
You were painting the world well, then I'm guessing you had to do something at work, came back and picked up at this line
"There were 5 levels..." and it seemed to change. The floor descriptions were a bit muddy.

Well, basically yes. The "mood" comes, and I write wonderful things. And then it just goes. Either I get distracted, or it just decides it doesn't want to hang around anymore. I cannot command it; it's like trying to snatch a dust speck out of the air. I don't understand, why should I only write my best when I feel like that, and why do I only feel like that >1% of the time? How can I get any practice if I only write during those rare occasions?

Jim Creeper
July 24th, 2019, 06:13 PM
I think it was quite magnificent. The imagery you used was enthralling. The choice of several uncommon adjectives, but with surrounding context which allow the lay person to follow really impressed me. I enjoyed the colorful similes. The actual story was very interesting, although I do have a few qualms with the beginning. Seeing as this is a prelude, you might offer some pretext to this structure in the sky. Understandably, every author has a different vision, and as the story went on I learned more about the plot, per the usual. But I found myself wanting throughout, and still felt a bit lost after the end. The very last comment,

"It just seems cruel, thatís all. It may be the only way, but still unfair.
Perhaps it may even do him some good in the end."

I thought this conveyed a contradictory opinion from Valarine. On one hand, worried and sceptical, yet on the other, optimistic. It doesn't really tie anything together for me. IMHO of course. I can tell you are a vastly talented writer though, and I look forward to reading more of your work.

Princesisto
July 25th, 2019, 04:45 AM
It's a bold new idea and I like it.

The problem is, like the Marxian State, it withers away.

The first few paragraphs are really great lyric poetry in the style of Homer. To revive that form would be a great service to literature, like Shelley did with "Ozymandias."

But I think you got embarrassed and started to back away from what you were doing. That was sad.

Line-by-line, it becomes more and more like an ordinary story, descending, at the end, into dialogue.

You started to lose it a bit when you got lost in levels. Then it came back when you write about Ur.

When you get to the dialogue, it's road kill.

My advice is keep working on it. Never apologise. Never step back. You are writing a lyric epic, you are the new Homer, and you are going to see how far you can take it.

In this, I endorse the statement of Mentor Rotten, as there is nothing rotten in his statement.

Ralph Rotten
July 26th, 2019, 01:41 PM
Well, basically yes. The "mood" comes, and I write wonderful things. And then it just goes. Either I get distracted, or it just decides it doesn't want to hang around anymore. I cannot command it; it's like trying to snatch a dust speck out of the air. I don't understand, why should I only write my best when I feel like that, and why do I only feel like that >1% of the time? How can I get any practice if I only write during those rare occasions?


Yeah, it felt like you were disturbed by something/one in the middle. Now do you see why I start writing at 0400 every day? 8-[

I read a story years ago about a poet who was in the process of writing what could have been the greatest poem of all time...but he was disturbed by a rather persistent door-to-door salesman. By the time he ran the guy off...he had lost his inspiration.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Person_from_Porlock

Bard_Daniel
August 3rd, 2019, 10:19 PM
I agree that there were good, and not so good, things about this piece. I liked your prose right up to the point where you introduced the dialogue. That was where I felt that the piece was lacking. While it seems like a good concept that you are employing, I feel that you have to do so differently, perhaps moulding the style that you have developed preceding it, in order to get the full wealth of materials at your disposal. For, as it stands (to me) the excerpt loses track of where it's going until it kind of withers off into its conclusion. For a prologue, I would think, that is not what you want to do.

Just my simple thoughts! Hopefully of some use!

LaMDoH123
September 8th, 2019, 04:30 PM
First of all, don't scrap it! I want to know more! Who is the boy? Who are these beings? What are they going on about? You can consider my interest piqued. If a song is what you were going for, however, then you went a little awry after the first half or so (after "a streak of malachite green"). Perhaps split this up, and make the first half prologue or something. Perhaps a quote of an "old poem" from this world, with appropriate title, author, and date? Grammatically speaking, it all looks good to me, except this sentence:

"The terrible image of its passing so exuded overwhelming power that the field beasts hid in their dens, and even the trees bowed away lest peradventure a single handspan of distance from the streak’s frightful aura marked the difference between continued existence, and total annihilation."

It's a little unwieldy, and I think "marked" should be "mark."