Escape

 

The sun was beginning to rise over the pointed crowns of the snow capped mountains and unearthly shades of violet, red, and pink filtered across the sky. Azaelia inhaled deeply and smiled as the rich aroma of pine and rose petals was carried along the breeze. Not too far off, a bird chirped as it flew through the trees gathering the materials it would need for its new nest. Azaelia found herself envious of the tiny, red bird. It seemed completely oblivious to the world outside of its own making, devoid of all the worries that came with living as the tainted princess of the Sirhen lands of Alyindar.

 

Yes, I am the tainted princess; born with the eyes of the Lost Ones. Forever I am doomed to hide behind a thick veil so that I don’t cause another true death. Azaelia couldn’t stop herself from being thrown into the memory that had caused her to wear the accursed veil.

 

It had been the night of the Moon Festival, a tradition her people had carried since the tragedy of the Lost Ones. All of the Sirhen children had gathered around the Wise Mother to hear tales of their lost brothers and sisters. The Wise Mother had been in the middle of an elaborate description of their terrible appearance when Azaelia’s cousin, Devahlin, had rudely interrupted.

 

“Wise Mother, don’t you mean they have eyes like Azaelia?” Devahlin had pointed at her younger cousin and smiled wickedly as all the other children began to laugh. One boy in particular had begun to throw small pebbles at Azaelia, causing all the other Sirhen children to join in. Rage had boiled in Azaelia’s heart and set her blood aflame. The children had recalled the terror of seeing her eyes bleed red as she ripped the soul from the boy who had thrown the first pebble. The feelings she had experienced as she called forth the very essence that gave him life had never been forgotten, either.

 

Azaelia was brought back from her reverie by the voice of one of her maids begging her to get ready for the banquet. Azaelia let out an indignant sigh before letting the distressed woman brush the tangles from her long, silver locks. The princess half listened to Merewel’s incessant chatter and thought about how much she dreaded the banquet she was forced to attend. Ever since the accident, her presence had been knowingly unwanted.

 

Azaelia’s sensitive ears picked up the rustle of her father’s luxurious robes and she hid her annoyance as her father burst into her room without even knocking. Azaelia glanced at her disheveled father with indifference. His nostrils flared angrily and he forced himself to calm down as he made his way toward his youngest daughter.

 

 

“Azaelia, the banquet is to begin in less than a quarter hour. Must you be so incessant on displeasing me so?” he spat. Azaelia steeled herself against his anger and instead focused on the soothing strokes of her maid Merewel running the brush through her thick tresses.

 

“Why father, I know not of what you speak. It was never in my interest to displease you so. I just don’t see why I am obligated to go to this banquet. You know it only angers the people that I am there.”

 

“I care not! You are my daughter and princess to the throne of Alyindar! Show some dignity and love for your people!”

 

“Where was the love for their princess when I was being stoned by children mine own age?! You forget that these are no more my people than I am a c**k shrieking at the awaking sun!” Azaelia yelled back before turning her head from the mirror. Her father huffed furiously and stomped to the door. Before leaving he turned and fixed her with a heated glare.

 

“No daughter of mine shall speak to me with such a fierce tongue,” he growled before disappearing through the door in a swirl of magnificently colored robes and jewels.

The door slammed shut and Merewel screamed as one of the framed pictures fell from it’s fixture on the wall and shattered into a thousand pieces on the ivory floor.

 

Reminds me of my life. Azaelia thought bitterly before rising from the cushioned chair in front of her vanity. Merewel watched fearfully as the princess began throwing things into the middle of her four-poster bed. The silk bed curtains fluttered as Azaelia ran wildly about the room, gathering odds and ends before tossing them onto the bed and wrapping them in a thick hide.

 

“Princess, what in the name of the Gods are you doing?” Azaelia turned to face her maid and the terrified woman could feel the anger rolling off of the young princess. “My lady, please tell me what it is that you’re planning,” Merewel pleaded.

 

“If you must know, I am leaving.” Merewel let out a strangled cry before falling to the floor. Tears ran down her rosy cheeks and she fretfully wiped them away.

 

“But your father, surely he will have me killed. You must not leave!” Azaelia rushed over to the sobbing woman and grabbed her by the wrist.

 

“Listen to me Merewel! You must not speak of this to my father. Leave my room before I go! He will not be able to accuse you of disloyalty if you aren’t around to take the blame. I do not belong in this place. I know there is somewhere outside of these walls for me. However, staying here under my father’s watchful eye will not help me find it! I am leaving, and you will keep your promise not to tell anyone, right?” Merewel continued to sob and Azaelia gave her a gentle shake. The maid nodded reluctantly and stood up, drying her tears on the intricately woven apron tied around her slim waist.

 

“Where will you go, Princess?” Merewel sniffled.

 

“I don’t know, but anywhere is better than here!” Azaelia stood and hurried to the bed, hastily tying the hide over her shoulder. She made to leave from her bedroom when Merewel caught her hand.

 

“My Lady! You mustn’t just walk out!” Merewel whispered. The maid pulled Azaelia through the door interlocking their chambers and toward her closet. “Here, I will show you a secret passage that leads just beyond the castle gates. It should take you straight to a path that leads into the forest.” Merewel whispered as she pulled the door open and pushed aside her homely gowns. Azaelia stared in surprise at the small wooden door that was hidden behind her maid’s modest clothing. Merewel gave two hard tugs on the door and it opened with a loud whine, allowing a gust of hot air to enter the room.

 

Azaelia coughed as a foul stench she didn’t recognize poured into the room. Merewel disappeared momentarily before returning with a lamp.

 

“Follow the path until you come to a tree with silver leaves. The path will split and you must take the right path. Pull one fruit from the tree and toss it over your shoulder, and whatever you do, don’t look back. Do you hear me? No matter what you hear, you mustn’t look back. This path should take you to my sister’s house. Her name is Guinevere. Tell her you are a friend of mine and she should give you room and board for the night. Will you remember?” Azaelia smiled and looked into the dark tunnel cautiously.

 

“Are you sure this is safe, Merewel?” Azaelia asked.

 

“Of course my lady. We servants use these tunnels all the time. Now you must hurry before your father returns!” Merewel whispered frantically. Tears filled Azaelia’s eyes and she pulled the woman to her in a desperate hug. The veil around Azaelia’s eyes hid the stream of tears running down her pale cheeks, but Merewel knew her princess was crying. She tightened her grip around the slim girl and kissed her shoulder.

 

“Alright my lady, you need to get going. Who knows when your father will burst into the room again.” Azaelia nodded and pulled back. She took the lamp from Merewel and faced the pitch black hole that disappeared beyond Merewel’s wall. Azaelia entered slowly and her most devoted maid watched with tear filled eyes as her princess disappeared into the darkness.

 

“Remember! You mustn’t look back!” Merewel shouted after her. The door to Azaelia’s room was thrown open and Merewel hurriedly closed and recovered the secret door before rushing into the adjoining room.

 

“Where is my daughter?” the queen asked impatiently.

 

Reviews

[Nicholas Burns]

I enjoyed this chapter, but not overly so, because, as someone else mentioned, it felt as if you were trying too hard. Your descriptions were overly flowerly with extra adjectives that aren't neccessary to convey the sense of the story. Your dialogue was good, though it sounds as if you are trying to make it sound like olde english, without using thees and thous, though it doesn't come off very well. If you were to put less emphasis on their words, and rather on the reason for the words, I believe your dialogue will come off much better.

I hope I was able to help, good job!

[Kenneth Hunt]

Little compicated but its off to a good start. The only problem I will state is the last line, it is not a good way to end the first chapter but hey whatever floats your boat. Whens chapter two?

[joshua rainbird]

Essentially, it's a story about keeping your cool or you'll destroy the ones you love. A good plot to start with but I can't help think you're falling into the trap of - trying too hard.

I can see there being a major difficulty with this as your book progresses and this is it:

The main character rips the souls out of characters when riled, however from what I read here, your writing has two modes - over-described soft and sweet, and, full blown melodrama. You need to demonstrate there are other emotional temperatures other than boiling hot. I'm a bit concerned that you may have played all your aces in the opening chapter. Yes, every writer's manual will tell you that you have to sell a book in the first three chapters, if not the first page, BUT they will be expecting you to do that by getting the reader immersed in the story in as a readable fashion as possible.

So simplicity and easy reading is what they really want unless you are the next Umberto Eco.

Unfortunately, I find you are saying simple things in complicated and passive ways: Azaelia found herself envious of the tiny, red bird = Azaelia envied the red bird.

At the moment, everything relevant to your story seems to be drowning in run-on sentences therefore, my suggestions are to weed out every adverb ending in 'ly' and to limit your adjectives (including colours) to one per sentence. This will give more impact to the ones you leave in, so choose them wisely.

Unlike the other reviewer, I didn't like language the characters speak. Thankfully there weren't any 'thees and thous'; they're a big turn-off. But it did sound awkward as if the characters were thinking carefully before they spoke. It was like Basil Fawlty meets Jane Austen. As people rarely speak proper English now, you could create a sense of past times by using simple language, spoken clearly, so long as you avoid slang and cliches. To give my characters different voices, I think carefully about the nouns they use in their vocabulary, for example: what kind of person would say 'cooker' and who would say 'stove'.

Generally, I've found it only takes a little description to satisfy a reader, as their own imagination fills in the blanks. Subtlety, is the answer, so that when the real issues start kicking off later in your book you can hit them with the hard stuff.

Good luck with your novel and welcome to writer's cafe
Josh

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Really good first chapter! I can't wait to see what happens. I liked the dialogue. It had an olde world feel to it.