One

Chapter 1

 

 Imagine you are a raven side by side with another, both black as night, flying through the red skies of the world, the wind whipping through your talons; your sharp eyes brace the cold wind. Streaking over dense green trees and rivers and streams that flow into the vast blue ocean. The sun breaks above the horizon appearing as red as blood. You fly over the steep cliffs and crashing waterfalls, the beautiful fields of golden grain. Through a magnificent broken arch made of stone and pass once brilliant buildings now in ruins, in through an open window and into a large empty hall; the ceiling is made of silver and the floor a highly polished wood. At the end a throne sits empty and covered in webs, the bones of two large wolves lay either side. A smaller throne is to its right, again, empty.

 The great Norse God Odin once sat here with his wife Frigg, and watched over the universe. You swoop and sit on one arm of the great throne, it seems to emit an aura of power and knowledge and wealth. Your head turns to the raven beside and squawk, Memory will remember all that has happened since Odin’s death to the wolf, Fenrir. You are Thought, you will hold optimism and foresight to the future of what will occur in the upcoming years.

 This story is not of Odin or of his return, nor of the Norse Gods in particular. This story is of power and innocence, of death and revenge, of love and infatuation. This story is to entice you to believe, that once, maybe, what you deem as impossible or improbable may have been real. This story is about to explain the life and journey of a young man’s strife and his time on this pain filled place we call earth. He will travel to the ends of the earth to save those he loves, too bad the end of the world is waiting for him to fall, and there, the Lord of the Underworld is waiting to catch.

 

*

 

“Come on Cal,” a black horse sped past the watch towers. Brown leather boots dug their heels into the horse’s side; a cloak billowed in the wind as rain soaked the broad shoulders of the young prince. His hair long and whipped wildly in the bracing wind. His pale blue eyes squinted against the lashing rain that pained his young taut face.

 He looked behind to his younger brother, a slimmer version of himself. Cal whipped the reins and his horse gathered speed.

 A horn blew in the distance followed by a clap of thunder, a flash of lightning trailed moments later. The two changed direction and headed for the chase.

 They climbed a steep hill and waited for its horizon to fall. The two rode side by side, finally reaching the hill top.

They stopped and let their horses breathe for a moment; they looked down the hill to the excited crowd below. Torches flared and spattered in the rain, a circle of spears and shields surrounded a groaning beast at their centre. The circle cheered at the beast’s pain.

 The two riders bolted down the hillside, the beast came into view. A large off grey melon of a head sat upon slouched shoulder as wide as seven men. Sprouts of thin grey hair protruded from its otherwise bald head. Its hairy knuckles grazed the earth as he spun frantically in a desperate attempt to defend itself prowling the circle like a caged animal. The beast’s chest heaved as it let out a loud ear deafening roar that brought every horse to its hind legs and caused the grip on every weapon tighten that bit more. The beast was a Troll. Large and savage, its strength surpasses its stupidity. This one had been wandering the farmer’s fields and taking up pigs for a snack.

 “Cal, what do you think, eh?”

 Cal smiled at his brother.

 “Tie him down.” The prince commanded.

 The men surrounding the Troll, they threw ropes over its shoulders and back and pulled. The beast fought against the bounds as much as its strength could but it could not even fight against their numbers. The men held and the horses backed up bringing the mountainous Troll crashing to the ground like a tree in a forest. The beast wailed as it fell and the crash of the collapsing tree made the ground shudder beneath the hooves and feet of the men.

 The prince dismounted his horse with Cal following suit. They both walked to the struggling creature with the ropes being pegged down, the prince shook his head.

 He looked to Cal who wore a worried expression; his similar blue eyes were fixed upon the Troll’s gnashing teeth.

 “Cal,” the prince placed a hand upon his shoulder, “you needed to see this. It is time you became a man and this is a man’s responsibilities.”

 Cal gave a sheepish smile and a slight nod to him.

 The prince disappeared for a moment then returned with a spear. He handed it to Cal and gave a smile of encouragement. Watching as his brother held the spear above his head, shaking from nerves.

The prince held the spear just above his brother’s grasp and helped him plunge it through the neck of the Troll. He let go and took a step back.

 The Troll let out a gargle of a blood filled breath and suddenly went rigid.

 Cal released his grip on the now blood stained spear and retreated, he looked down up the Troll and tilted his head to one side.

 The prince watched his younger brother with inquisition. His expression seemed filled with curiosity, yet a slight hint of pleasure.

Finally, Cal looked at the prince and the prince gave a smile almost through reaction. They mounted their horses and left the guards and servants to attend to the Troll.

 

*

 

 Skrat hid beneath the mossy undergrowth of the large beech tree just left of the pathway. He squeezed his eyes shut, so much that it pained him but he didn’t care, he covered his ears with his skeletal hands and clenched his jaw. He could feel the worms and maggots crawling over and under his large feet. He felt vibrations that made his spine tingle and his shoulders shudder. The hair on his neck stood as he buried his head into his knees, hoping for the vibrations to cease. They drifted away into the distance but his kept his hands over his ears and his head in his knees for a few frantic heartbeats more.

 Peeping through the slits in his eyes, Skrat took his hands away from his floppy ears. All he could see was the fungi and moss that lined the mud walls of his hideout. Skrat peered over the top of the beech tree roots and saw the deserted pathway. He climbed out and stood on the muddy path looking in both directions before beginning to walk again. The mud squelched between his toes as he did so. He pulled the robes tight around his shoulders to brace himself against the harsh wind.

 Skrat was squat with a small ratty tail; he had a large wide mouth which usually held a mischievous grin stretched across his green tinged skin. His small grey eyes looked back over his shoulder as he walked; he couldn’t shake the feeling of someone following him. His floppy ears caught a sound drifting on the breeze, a sound of distant hooves.

 Skrat sighed and jumped from the pathway again. He covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. Oddly, there were no vibrations, Skrat’s eyes opened wide with fear. His breathing became short and quick making his wide chest heave, though he stayed silent. He lifted his palms from his ears to catch a sound. He could hear none. He peered over the ledge once again, this time seeing thick black boots. A hand grasped the scruff of the robes wrapped around his body and he was hoisted up.

 “Well, well, well...hello little Skrat.” A low husky voice met Skrat’s ears, the man opposite his face came almost nose to long hooked nose. The man had cold blue eyes that bore through Skrat’s sunken greys.

 “Hello, sir. Fine Autumn this year,” Skrat shook with terror. This man scared him to his core; he knew what he was here for, in Skrat’s territory. Skrat is a Korrigan. He knew why this man had come. Skrat was a well known Korrigan; he was one of a rare few who had served under the Dwarves all those years ago. He helped make many magical weapons and artefacts over his hundred and twenty six year life. Amongst many of his famous creations were Mjǫllnir, the hammer of Thor, and Grungnir, Odin’s magical spear that has never failed to kill. Skrat was often sought after for his hand in these creations and hunted for his knowledge. When he was a young Korrigan at the age of forty two, he apprenticed under the legendary Dwarf brothers Brokkr and Eitri and learned much from them.

 “Skrat, you are needed,” the man gave a twisted smile.

 Skrat sighed and shrugged his shoulders; he gave a slight nod of his large dome shaped head. “As you wish, sir.”

 The man held a large sack open and bundled Skrat inside.

Reviews

[Chris]

Interesting use of second person POV in the beginning. I won't say anything about the dangers of it, since you're probably already aware of them, but for the most part, it doesn't seem too bad. Telling the reader through narration what the story is about kind of weakens the chapter, though. I mean, it would make a good synopsis for a book cover, but it doesn't look that good in the actual story. It would probably be better to show what the novel is going to be about through the plot instead.

Descriptions are great throughout the chapter. I could picture everything clearly. The sentences flow pretty well for the most part, too. Overall, the writing itself is pretty good.

Good hook through Skrat's scene. It'll leave the reader wondering what this mysterious man's plans are, prodding them to go to the next chapter.

As for Cal and the prince's scene, it's well written, but it seems almost a little random. There isn't a hint of conflict there or anything; all it does is introduce characters, but that easily could have waited until a different scene. But of course, I don't know how you plan on structuring this. Maybe its importance will be revealed in a later chapter or something. But if not, maybe try to make the scene longer or something?

Also, is Cal mute, shy, or does he deliberately choose not to talk? Maybe mention this? Also, how old is he? Something tells me no older than thirteen, but I'm not sure. But it would be a good idea to specify. That kind of information is important when establishing character. The same goes for the prince.

Also, be careful about dialogue and narration:

“Come on Cal,” a black horse sped past the watch towers.

When using a comma to end a line of dialogue, it's implied that a dialogue tag is following. However, "a black horse sped..." is not a dialogue tag because it in no way describes how the dialogue is spoken. Instead of a comma, a period should be used.
Also, remember that, when someone is addressing someone in dialogue, that addressee needs to have commas around their name, so there should be a comma before "Cal." Otherwise, the sentence reads differently; in this instance, because of the missing comma, the dialogue reads as the prince telling someone to ejaculate on Cal.


“Tie him down.” The prince commanded.

"The prince commanded" is a dialogue tag, so that period in the dialogue needs to be a comma, and "the" needs to be lower case.


“Cal,” the prince placed a hand upon his shoulder, “you needed to see this. It is time you became a man and this is a man’s responsibilities.”

The commas are incorrect. Either place a verb like "said" after "prince" so that there's a dialogue tag there or write it as: "Cal--" The prince placed a hand on his shoulder. "--you needed..."

Hope this helps. :)

[Coyote Poetry]

I like this tale. I'm a big fan of myth and old story. You have them both in this story. I like the situation you create in this chapter. I like the use of the old Gods to give strength and power to the tale. A excellent opening chapter. I will keep reading.
Coyote

[Octob3r Star]

Really nice, turn the page...

[Mockingbird]

leaves you in suspense. brings to mind a coming of age, an initiation of cal, to please his brother. he must already have had the taste for blood because he felt some pleasure in slaying the poor troll. it really draws you in.

[SuicidePact.]

Great beginning.

[Rae Elizabeth]

Awesome first chapter! (: