Prologue

Everyone knows what a story is. However, what a story IS depends on the teller, and on the reader. 

Sometimes, a story is just that; a tale to tell little ones, fiction, an exciting way to make children sit down and possibly learn something. Sometimes a story is the truth, or at least mostly the truth, according to the teller. And sometimes, a story is a little bit of both; a tale so strange and yet so real, you can't help believing what is being said. Truth and fiction blend so perfectly, that sometimes even the teller can't tell where one ends, and one begins. A story is something special; no matter who you are, or where you are, you can always find a home inside of a story.

And that is how the world is made. On endless stories, both mystical and plain. In stories, gods breathe and tremble, adventure is found and lost, and even the smallest of people can lead to the greatest of destinies. Even you, dear reader, have parts both large and small in stories that you may have never even heard whispered yet...

This is the story of when the world almost stopped telling stories; it is also the story of a young girl who loved listening to stories more than anything in her life. It is also the story of her long suffering but loyal twin, a lost princess who really would rather stay lost, a spritling, a kingdom made of ice, a few curses and a very old tree that watched it all. 

But before I can tell you that story, I must tell you this one: The story of the night the Roc raided the small village of Cassia.

~*~*~*~

Like most stories start, this one starts in the thick of the night, and with a terrible beast. 

The village of Cassia is a quiet place, built high in ancient and winding trees. It is a lush, beautiful place to live, and because they are so high up, there is rarely any trouble that disturbs the almost sleepy place. However, rarely is not never, and the villagers found themselves quite shaken by the cries of a mother one night. The hysterical woman could not be calmed as she sobbed out a jumbled story about her youngest daughter that no one could understand. The people were confused as to what to do; anything could have happened to a babe of only four years. She could have eaten something terrible, or sleep could have taken her little spirit in the night. She may have even fallen out of her family's home--it was rare, but sometimes, the littlest ones could slip right past watchful eyes and the tree-made homes were rather high up. When her husband joined her, with an armful of children and a few trailing behind, they finally were able to piece together what had happened. 

Mila, for that was the mother's name, had woken up with a feeling of uneasiness and had gone to check on her children to make sure everything was alright. She had checked on six of her children when she'd heard a noise  in the nursery room next to her own and like any mother would, she'd ran as quickly as she could to it. The sound of her youngest daughter's screaming echoed in her ears, and as she'd burst into the room, she saw a terrible sight. A massive bird with wings like fire stood brightly against the darkened sky, and in it's great claw was her baby. "I turned to stone, I was so scared", she sobbed out sadly, "and right as I took a single step, the beast leapt out the window!" She collapsed into tears again. 

The villagers felt uneasy and tried to comfort her. The beast had been a great Roc bird, fearsome and terrible. Some of them whispered that he was a god, or had been a god once, and that if he'd taken a baby, there was no getting it back. If a god took a child, or any person, that was it. They could kill a wolf, or chase down a downlion, but they couldn't fight a god. They did their best to soothe the family; of course they'd keep an eye out for the babe, and when the father tried to run into the forest, he had to be held back by many arms. "You have other children who need you." They coaxed. The family was rather large, and while it was sad to lose a child, the villagers agreed silently that there would be plenty of children to close that painful gap, and maybe they'd even have another. They left the shaken family to grieve and solemnly went to their own children, or to a restless night of sleep. 

Mila cried throughout the night, and again on the next night. On the third evening, with her husband's gentle coaxing and the cries of the lost child's siblings in her ears, she wandered down out of her home and to the edge of the great forest. In the shadow the enormous trees she wept and prayed that her child find rest until she couldn't cry anymore. Mila heartbrokenly stepped back on the path, deciding to accept her loss and properly mourn her daughter, when she came face to face with a person, shrouded in darkness. Frightened, she nearly ran away when the shadow began to move towards her, until she spotted her lost child in its arms. She looked up into the eyes of her daughter's rescuer...

Reviews

[Nusquam Esse]

I enjoyed the way you introduced the story, weaving a surreal touch of the very nature of story-telling within it. All in all, this seems to be a compelling premise for a story. My main advice would be to tweak how you present the story; I am sure you hear it all too often, but the axiom "show don't tell" does have some validity to it. Of course this may just be because this is a prologue; some styles require a heavy amount of telling... but be careful not to overdo it. This could benefit from a better balance of showing, so that it is easier to connect to as a reader. Check all your descriptions, and think if there is a tactful way to show what is happening, instead of just describing it with a word. Also isolate your dialogue, and examine it... see if it feels natural for what you are trying to convey. When trying to tell a grand epic; we often try and use 'epic' language, but it ends up feeling contrived. It is best to make it as realistic, and emotionally moving as possible. Convey distress in words, not just adverbs to describe how it is being said. All in all, a good start.

[The Silent Deviant]

I love the taste of almost an... anecdotal or even philosophical approach to the beginning. It bares a semblance to my writings but with a different and interesting flair. Rather than throw someone straight in the middle of a story in a world where they don't know much of anything, you calmly guide the reader there. It feels like the reading itself is a person lol, it's hard to explain. But yes you guide them to the actual story (Think the beginning to "The Emperor's New Groove" :D). It's a weird place to suddenly just stop reading for me, I know, however my point of today in Writer's Cafe is to bounce around various adventure stories and mingle with the community if possible. I've been lacking in meeting the many great writers there are on this site. Fear not though, I will finish this at another time I am sure lol. Also as a final touch I love the toss in of a mythical creature right there, the Roc. Anyone who has played any sort of Final Fantasy similar game knows the gist of it, and I for one... geeked out. I very much enjoyed this piece. It's another rare reading I have found that kept my full attention span through to the end. You do quite well with words and such. Keep up the good fight, and again I will finished what you have up on this book soon :D , but for now I need to move on to the next person I may find. I intend on making some friends here as well. A+ rating from me.