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 Heisann! Jeg er helt fersk på dette forumet, snublet inn etter litt surfing på måfå, men fikk nå somlet til meg en profil. Trivelig at det finnes et sted for oss skriveglade å dele erfaringer, her skal jeg prøve å delta etter beste evne. Nå er jo jeg den eneste påloggede brukeren av over 1000, så det stilles tydeligvis ikke spesielt høye krav til aktivitet her, haha.

Neida, men jeg fyrer løs: Dette er en fantasy-historie jeg begynte på for noen uker tilbake, satt til den fiktive verdenen "Carolingo". Dette er noe jeg prøver meg på fordi... ja, fordi jeg aldri har prøvd meg på noe lignende - så jeg tar gjerne imot konstruktiv eller uvøren kritikk, tips, rettledning, korrektur. Hva nå en det måtte være, det hadde vært knakende hyggelig å få en slags respons på dette her! Eller okey da, ikke vær altfor strenge, dette er som sagt et førsteforsøk, hvor det ligger i terrenget vet jeg sannelig ikke.

 

THE SHADOWLIGHT POSTULATES

 

"The sun always shines in Carolingo...
literally"
- Carolingian weather man

 

Prologue

The girl motions her hands rapidly forward in
a slight diagonal, palms facing the blooming
garden beneath her. Her fingers frizzles with
heat, glowing. "You say I´m astray" She holds
her arms up, clawing. "You say I´m confused"
An outburst of pressured air jumbles the
flowers and grass, making the garden do a
dance of panic. The star shines upon the two
individuals with apocalyptic intensity. A
surrounding crowd of quiet people is
witnessing what´s about to go down with
great concern. One of the spectators
whispers to another. She looks like she´s
about to pass out. "And... you say I´m too
weak?" The girl looks to her shoes, as if
admitting defeat. A distant Thyff howls at the
sun, dismally. Looking up from her shoes
again, she pierces her opponent with a
resolving glare. "Well I say fuck you!" The
whole place explodes in a leering light, the
sound of burning flesh and ravenous
crackling fill the ears of those around. An
unknown force tears through the trees and
bushes close by, ripping the garden by its
seams. A screaming laughter mixes in with
the ongoing symphony of destruction. Bits of
dirt and vegetation pirouette skywards, the
sheer presence of such magic imbuing them
with levitational properties. Uncovering their
eyes and blinking, the crowd of people once
more fix their attention to the dramatic scene
playing out in front of them. The girl´s
sleeves have been torn apart. Her arms glow,
they produce a shy amount of smoke. The
individual before her resumes laughing,
manically. "You´re all smoke and mirrors, aren
´t you?!" The girl gasps as the creature picks
her up by the neck, whispering into her ear:
You´ve never known when to give up. Some
spectating civilians boost towards the
heinous enemy, but the creature hurls them
away in one fell swoop, their lifeless bodies
hitting a nearby wall. The sound of violently
colliding meat is sickening. With only
remnants of strength left in her, the girl
grabs her assailant´s shoulders and pulls
herself up to it. I´d say the same about you.
The laughter once again ripples throughout
the perimeter, people desperately shielding
their ears. "You don´t know me at all, poor
kid!" The starlight suddenly falters, the scene
grows dim and the very earth starts to shiver
vigorously. "Goodbye, Thara"

 

Chapter I

The rain hammered down in Pangea, roofs of
tin and metal making it sound like the city
was under ballistic attack. Inside the
grandest building of the cityscape, the home
of Pillowhigh University of Deeper Magic and
Meaning, sat two aging professors huddled
around a crystal shaped like the most
adequate sphere ever to be conceived. The
room in which the two caped men whispered
hurriedly, was bathed in a dim light. The
fireplace made their shadows boogie up the
walls and through the roof, making for a
rather secret atmosphere (coincidentally and
fittingly colored by the distant music of a
cello-player practicing the classic piece
"Harmonia Melancholic"). "I´m not
particularly intrigued by this" said the
professor in red, motioning to a student
passing by. The student deciphered the
message and went on closing the door with
the tiniest of squeaks. "Should we take any
sort of measure?" He fondled with his beard
in a slightly vulgar manner. "We´re just a
bunch of highly educated magicians, Wilbur.
We may be knowledgeable, but we´re neither
brave or of high spirits" The other professor
nodded matter-of-factly, studying his
Harmonian silk-slippers with great intensity. A
squall of thunder shook the tower violently
and the ball of crystal hit the floor with a
sinister "plink".
"Sweet dreams, Wilbur"
"May your night be magic, my noble
colleague"

Outside the campus, a conversation of
tangible pathos played out in hushes and
breezes. The streets were empty in a sense
that suggested pre-emptiness, with lamp
posts making the city lanes look plastically
rain-slick. A theatrical person would say "the
stage is set" but none of the partakers of this
particular conversation seemed to appreciate
the value of a good play (rather, it appeared
quite the opposite) "You ready for this,
Mistress?"
"Shut it. I´ve been ready since the Day of
Origin. Be on time"
The questionable pair of individuals
nominally shook hands before turning in a
perfect circle, walking away with rhythmical
steps. The unwavering cellist burst out into
the finishing section of "Harmonia
Melancholic" only to leave the darkly
dreaming city of Pangea into an even nastier
vacuum of noiselessness. A lone phoenix
soared above the metropolis of sheds and
uninviting iron-clad houses, stirring up a
sepulchral symphony of shadows.

It´s not that long ago, my dear. Having
traveled across the immense universe, a
distance close to boundlessness, The
Colossus God descended upon this very soil.
He wandered our world in search of potential
and he discovered potential. A potential for
this world to be a home. Not just a heap of
rock, but a breathing heap of rock, pickled
with life and magic. Can you imagine how he
felt, bottled up with such ambition and hope?
He forced himself to cry and made an ocean
out of his own tears. He then ventured out
into space and gathered tiny, tiny organisms
to evolve in his newfound world. Eventually,
the Colossus God reached out into the everexpanding
universe and caught a star,
placing it above this world as to provide light
and better conditions for crafting the finer
details of his piece-in-work. Today you may
know the star as the First Sun, under which
creatures grew and scattered, frolicked and
evolved. The most sophisticated and
advanced creature to culminate of this
process was the human, a mammal on two
feet with its own sense of pushing the world
ahead. At this time, only a single pair of
human beings existed. Two females. And they
knew exactly who they were: Areena and
Pheline. The Mothers of All. The Colossus God
granted both a gentle touch with his
mountain-sized fingertip and as time went
by, something magical happened. Areena got
pregnant. With one boy and one girl. So did
Pheline. Just as one miracle had played out
another came to life, literarilly and
figuratively speaking. A population was under
way. Furthermore, the legend tells that one of
the childr--
"But mrs. Lyde, isn´t that like the worst case
of sexual violation ever?"
"Miss Thara! Please raise your hand before
speaking. And do you honestly believe that
the Colossus God violated Pheline and
Areena by planting the seed of life in their
wombs, granting them the gift of a child?"
"Yeah well, a guy could jump at you any time
around the corner down here and plant his
seed in you, even so I wouldn´t exactly
consider myself the receiver of a gift..."
"The legend explains it as the Colossus God
touching their wombs with his divine finger,
not jumping on them! Please listen to the
words I speak, Thara. We´ll discuss this later.
May I continue?"
The legend tells that one of the children, in
an early stage of growth, uttered a crystal
clear word before he continued on crying
hysterically. This was before the invention of
language. Do anyone of you know what the
baby said? The little one said "Carolingo". He
named our world. In recent years though,
professors at Pillowhigh explains the
phenomenon as the Colossus God merely
speaking his own words through the infant. I
am not one to speculate, but I support this
theory with all that I know. The Colossus God
is known for communicating through
Carolingo´s elements, why wouldn´t he
communicate through a human being? After
all, we too are an element of this world, just
as much as water, light, fire, magic and
earth. Make up an opinion for yourselves until
next time, OK? Then we´ll talk about the rise
of Eden and how Areena got banished from
the latter. It´s only 139 suns ago, people!
Show some enthusiasm!

Thara Winterbloom wriggled in her chair as
Carolingo´s 149th Sun covered the room in
warmth and passion. The emerald-roof of the
lecturing hall were spruced up with
meticulous carvings of various creatures, but
as of now it only served to boost the sunlight
and feeling of wrongness in sitting there. She
´d heard all this a long time ago anyway, no
need to brush up. "We were taught this in
elementary, professor Wilbur, why torture us
with this practice of redundancy?" Thara
winked at him and brought up her most
innocent smile, but professor Wilbur pointed
his finger at her. "Don´t push me, Thara, don
´t you dare" She sighed heavily as professor
Wilbur Walt pressed on with his explanation
of how Carolingo was created and stared
longingly at the Narborian Crystal sitting in
front of her. If they hadn´t spell fucking
blocked this lecture hall I´d be whoosh away
by now.

The shadows had stretched a long way
before the Pillowhigh professor finished up
with his history lesson. Thara slept silently at
her desk in the ending row of the hall, her
back facing a transparent wall of thinned
crystal. The whole city could be seen from
there, a vista that all first-year students at
Pillowhigh envied the third-graders. The truth
is that you never got to enjoy the view
properly anyway; professor Wilbur brought
down his wrath on every speck of a glance
into the horizon. Such marveling is the
characteristic of a dreamer and as professor
Wilbur Walt regularly emphasized: Dreamers
never got anywhere on Carolingo. "So if
anyone´s not sleeping, Colossus God forbid,
we´re absolutely finished for today" The
whole class turned to Thara, who was
currently dreaming about riding a phoenix
into the glossy waters of Narboro. "Alright
then," continued Wilbur, "you know what this
means" The class heaved a synchronical sigh
as their professor in history handed them a
"bonus" task on the creation of Carolingo, all
blight and bonny. "Have a jolly good evening,
people!" Wilbur Walt changed to a malicious
face when he left the lecturing hall. "And you
sleep good and well, dear Thara
Winterbloom..." The door made the tiniest of
squeaks when it closed.

---

"Å være eller ikke være - det er kun et spørsmål om intuisjon!"

Hei

Jeg tror dette kan bli en spennende historie, men du bør kanskje ha et litt mindre innviklet og ordrikt språk. Den rike ordbruken trekker oppmerksomheten bort fra historien, og det fortjener den ikke.

Hoppene i tid og sted gjør også at jeg lett mister tråden, spesielt siden avsnittene er såpass korte. Jeg kommer ikke skikkelig under huden på historien, før den skifter retning. Så jeg ønsker meg litt mer tid på hvert sted, gjerne også litt mer informasjon, så jeg kan bli nysgjerrig på hva som skjer videre.

Det var min mening.  

Lykke til videre

Amber 

 

---

as if a person needed idleness in which to grow peculiar.

Oh, tusen takk for konstruktiv kritikk! Du har nok rett angående språket mitt - jeg har alltid likt å leke meg med ordene isteden for historien. Her er det for øvrig litt delte meninger tror jeg, for de andre som har lest den har enten sagt at språket gjør historien mer sjarmerende, eller - som du - litt rotete og vanskelig å følge. Jeg takker også for tips om hopp i tid og sted, dette hadde jeg aldri sett selv. Det er jo også godt å få vite noe sånt i kapittel 1, det hadde vært leit om jeg var langt inne i historien før noen gjorde meg klar over det!

---

"Å være eller ikke være - det er kun et spørsmål om intuisjon!"

Som Amber sa har du et veldig ordrikt språk, kanskje nesten for mye. Nå skal ikke jeg klage, som heller befinner meg i andre enden av skalaen.

Jeg kommer sjelden inn i historier før jeg har lest en stund, men følte jeg fikk med meg mye av din, selv om den går litt fort fram.  Ser potensialet til en stor historie, kunne godt vært begynnelsen på Ringenes Herre det her (Men det kommer ann på hva du gjør med den selvsagt).

Likte at du også kan spøke med jordnære temaer (voldtekt) i steden for at fantasyunvierset tar seg selv 100% seriøst (Selv er jeg på andre enden av skalaen der og, min egen fantasyroman tar ikke seg selv alvorlig nok ).

Så langt virker den noe standard, jeg føler ikke at historien har tatt en original vending som gjør den ulik den "typiske" fantasyroman (Du er bare i starten selvsagt, alt potensialet er der. Forøvrig er det ikke noe feil i å skrive en "typisk" fantasyroman, gjør du det bra er det jo en sikker vinner)