This is good. But in your last passage you used contrasting (and sometimes contradictory) ideas way too many times. Examplea: "Jake glanced at Duncan, their eyes sharing parallel emotions, and a single thought passed between them. It was one which was full of hope, and yet wrought with sadness and despair at the same time." " smile warmed Jake's heart, but it also chilled him to the bone. "

Thankee for the input, and I agree whole-heartedly. As I'm not really a writer or anything (I'm fairly certain that you could tell) I tend to do things like that without even realizing it. Pretty much I just see the situation, the people involved, and the emotions involved, and then do my best to word those feelings well enough to relay what, exactly, it is that the people are feeling. I'll keep this in mind though and try to figure out a more 'covert' way of accomplishing this. Peace

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Only just realized this was alive so I can't wait till the next chapter.

Okay, this next chapter is kind of breaking the mold of the previous ones. It is going to be set up in three parts, much to my surprise, but with how the story was unfolding it seemed to best way to do it. Part one is done, part two being worked on, and then part three is where things are going to get tough. It'll be interesting to see how it all comes together. Anyways, enough of my ramblings. I'm sure you're not here to listen to me babble, so let's get this show on the road. [INDENT]Thunder rumbled across the hills. Lightning bolts crashed into nearby mountain peaks, setting trees and shrubs, growing freely there, alight, along with the small animals that had been seeking shelter beneath. The sky began to dim as dark clouds amassed overhead. Both Jake and Duncan stood transfixed, wondering what they should do first. The general populace had become aware of their situation, to a degree at least, and ran aimlessly from building to building, from person to person, arms flailing as they stopped momentarily to exchange panicked shouts with one another, quickly continuing along their destinationless route. Jake immediately thought of the way that chickens would run as children chased them, darting left and right at random, and, despite the seriousness of the situation, he had to struggle to stifle a laugh. Or perhaps it was only because the seriousness of the situation that he found the scene to be so funny. Looking over he saw that Duncan was feeling much the same way, and also that the young man was doing a better job of containing it. As their eyes met they shared a brief look of serious contemplation, and then they both completely lost it. Doubled over with laughter, holding on to each other for support, and gasping for breath they struggled to regain their composure. This was no time for fun and games, and yet here they were. Jake couldn't remember the last time that he had laughed so freely, or that he had felt so good about such a potentially bad situation, and took this as a good omen. He decided that it was a very good omen, indeed. Or perhaps it was a very bad one. Was he falling apart? Was his mind going to split again, as it had before? Was this fit of uncontrollable laughter simply a precursor to his break, or was he just trying to ease his nerves? Maybe it was nothing. He hoped that it was nothing, hoped and prayed to all of the Gods that ever were. There was far too much to do, and far too little time to do it in, to have his mind wandering right now. Had Seya still been alive Jake would have undoubtedly been struck upside his head, and it wouldn't have been when you were expecting it. It was never when you were expecting it. Seya had a way of enforcing lessons at the opportune moment, ensuring their permanent placement in one's memory. Time was of the essence. They would have to move quickly. A short glance at Duncan confirmed that they were, once again, sharing the same thoughts. Neither knew what they were supposed to do, but they both knew that, whatever it was, they would have to do it fast. Without a pause they sprung into action. Running from person to person they attempted to reach the panicked peasants, shaking them gently and speaking calmly to them, but most of them would only stop momentarily, glazed eyes bulging blankly and gaping mouths hung wide, before they began screaming again and proceeded to aimlessly wander the streets in an almost comical display. They zigged and zagged, ran in little circles, bumped into each other, screamed, and then ran away again. Jake couldn't believe that the enemy's tactics had worked so well. How could a simple horn blast and their beast roaring have such an effect on them? He would have hoped for them to be smarter than that. The beast had attacked at least a hundred times before, and everyone knew how easy it was to take down from the safety of the walls. Sometimes it was safe, anyways, unless it reached the defenses and you happened to be in the small group of people that it managed to kill. One had to feel bad for them, and for their families as they grieved their losses. There was always so much death, on both sides, and for what? In the end what did it all amount to? Nothing. Just forget about it. It doesn't mean anything right now. But it did mean something. Deep down inside himself Jake began to feel, and realized that he had always felt, that the battle was fruitless. All that he was able to do was to defend his people to keep them alive, but in doing so he was forced to kill others. He was forced to trade life for death on a near-daily basis. They were all human beings, and each death pained him deeper than he, or anyone anyone else for that matter, would have ever expected. At the same time, though, he loved the fight and he could not imagine his life without war. Suddenly he felt disgusted with himself and with what he had become. He had almost given up all hope of the war ever ending and felt like he was drowning in his own despair. Nothing matters anymore, let them come and enslave us all, maybe I'll go out fighting. A swift backhand connected with his chest and nearly knocked the wind out of him. "Wake up, man. What the hell is wrong with you? Can't you hear that? Can't you feel it?! I've never felt anything like it before. It's beautiful!" At first Jake wasn't quite sure what Duncan was talking about, but once his mind had returned to the present situation he could feel the familiar sensation. It was what their God had used on him after his oh so enjoyable flight and his rather more comfortable landing. "Oh thank God!" he shouted, their eyes met for a brief moment in a look of amused surprise, and then they were both doubled over with laughter again. The masses obviously felt it too and were calmed more and more by the second. Many of the people began laughing as well, and before long everyone was content once again. Some folks got back to what they were doing before all of the hullabaloo began, while others just held each other in their arms and laughed and laughed and laughed. In the span of a few moments the world had changed. What once felt impossible and far out of reach now seemed to actually be within their grasp. They could win the war, it was possible, but they couldn't do it alone. To Jake's surprise it was Duncan who spoke his thoughts aloud. Duncan shouted, "We gotta move, man. Let's go!" and with that he began running towards the residential district. Jake, pausing for only a moment, quickly followed suit. As they ran past a temple where a group of old washer women had gathered for a mid-morning prayer, they heard cheers of encouragement. Somehow that small band of maids had picked up on the pair's thoughts which now shone clearly on all of their faces. It seemed that hope was contagious. There was that much to be thankful for, at least. It may just be the little things that would turn the tide of this war.[/INDENT] To Be Continued...

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

[INDENT] Jake's heart raced as he plodded down the path, pebbles crunching under his boots and the wind blowing through his tufts of wispy white hair. Each heartbeat resonated inside his skull, pushing against the backs of his eyeballs with a gentle thump thump thump. His lungs rattled and wheezed with the phlegm of old age. He drew quick, deep breaths as he ran on and was forced to a sudden stop when a glob of mucus became dislodged and found a new home in his throat, effectively cutting off his air supply. He fell to his hands and knees, for a moment imagining that this would be his end. He would choke to death on this cobblestone path, fields of grain to either side glowing in the morning sun like stalks of gold, and his people would be lost. Duncan had heart, and he was a fairly good fighter, but he would not be able to take care of things on his own. He meant well, but without Jake to instruct him failure was certain. Stars began to pass before his vision. Tiny white dots fell as snowflakes do, only these snowflakes fell in any direction that they pleased. The pressure in his head grew and the gentle thump thump thump became an almost unbearable booming. Thinking became difficult, and he found his mind resorting to more primitive forms of perception. Words turned to emotions. He was afraid, sad, and undeniably angry. The anger was the feeling that overpowered all of the rest. Dark clouds began to pass over his eyes, and the light pebbles between the cobbles of the path began to dance and jig as if they were all having a party. In jake's mind he saw them celebrating, but what they were celebrating he didn't know. Perhaps they were celebrating his impending death, chanting in unison for him to get it over with and let his arms buckle. He felt something crawl onto, and move slowly across, his hand and an image of an army of ants, all waiting patiently in formation for their next year's worth of food to settle down so that they could get to work on dismantling it, flashed through his mind. From somewhere far in the distance, sounding like it was coming from behind a crashing waterfall, or perhaps from atop a herd of stampeding cattle, came a muffled mumbling. He didn't know what it was and, in all honesty, he didn't really care at the moment. His muscles ached, his brain screamed for air, his heartbeat became irregular and began to slow. His arms began to twitch and shudder, his upper body bobbing in a spastic up and down motion along with them. The pain started to fade, as did everything else, and his anger began to turn into acceptance. This was the end. It wasn't how he had imagined it, but it would have to do. He barely felt the strong blow connect with his back, didn't notice that his arms had given way and that his face had joined in the pebbles' party, and he never felt the phlegm as it dislodged itself and came to its final resting place in the grain to the left of the path. His brain got the message that the obstruction was clear and, without any conscious help from Jake, passed on the signal to the lungs that they could start breathing again. Gradually the booming returned to its former thumping, the dark clouds passing before his vision began to dissipate, and somehow he managed to turn himself onto his back where he lay staring up at the beautiful blue sky, struggling to catch his breath, as a few fluffy white clouds floated along peacefully. A shape blocked out his vision of the clouds and began to emit that odd muffled mumbling that he had heard before, but it was slowly becoming clear to him that what he was hearing was, in fact, words, and that Duncan was the one who was speaking them. Tears streamed down Duncan's cheeks and dripped from his chin to the path below. He was talking in sobbing bursts, getting about half of a word out before sniffling back his tears and trying again. After a couple of dozen attempts he was finally able to articulate his words properly. Jake didn't need to hear the words, though. The look in Duncan's eyes told him all that he needed to know. "Can you hear me?! Please God, say that you're okay!" Duncan blurted out. He reached down, placed both hands and Jake's shoulders, and gently shook him. Jake smiled the best that he could, panting like a dog left outside without water on a hot summer afternoon. Somehow he managed to laugh, and although it was a raspy, sickly sounding laugh it made Duncan's face light up with a smile. Without even thinking about it Duncan lifted Jake's shoulders from the path, cradled his head in his arm, and hugged him as hard as he felt was safe. Jake hugged him right back, realizing that Duncan was the closest thing that he had had to a family in years, perhaps decades even. A small child rounded the corner, coming into sight from behind the fields, and continued on walking down the path towards them. She seemed to be preoccupied with whatever was in the basket that she was carrying and didn't notice the two men laying on the path in front of her until she had reached them. She looked down first at Jake, then at Duncan, and then back to Jake. A look of worry passed over her face and she spoke in a tiny, frightened voice, "Are you okay, mister?" Jake gazed up into the little girl's eyes, smiling the best that he could, and told her that he was fine. He said that he had just tripped, and that there was nothing to worry about. The child's face lit up as a smiled broadened across her face. She giggled a little, reached down and gently patted Jake's balding head, and said only, "." continuing on down the path as if nothing had happened, attention returning to the basket that she carried. They both watched silently as she walked away down the path, rounded the corner, passing out of sight, and then they were alone again. Jake's breathing was more controlled now, and apart from it the only sound to be heard was the rustle of the wind as it blew through the fields of grain in gentle waves. The silence was broken when, in the distance, a bird cawed, a cow mooed, a horse whinnied, and a goat bleated, in nearly perfect unison. It was as if the entire world had been holding its breath and was releasing a sigh of relief. "Alright, that's enough drama for right now. I'm getting too old for this. Let's get moving before it's too late, if it isn't already." Jake croaked, shifting his weight one way and then another in an attempt to get back to his feet. Duncan rose and took Jake's hand to help him up, grimacing as Jake's old bones creaked and groaned, emitting soft popping and crunching noises. Jake stood and slowly straightened his back, looking towards the sky as his spine let out a ghastly series of its own pops. At first his face flushed with a look of extreme pain, and then was replaced by a look of complete satisfaction. "That feels good!" Jake chuckled, beginning to hobble down the path towards the residential disctrict, hoping that the pain in his joints would subside and that no permanent damage had been done in the fall. He had enough to worry about right now, and didn't need his being a frail old coot thrown into the mix as well. Duncan followed suit and this time they both walked. They had had enough excitement for one day, and there would be plenty more to come before it was all over. [/INDENT] To Be Concluded...

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Just to keep everybody updated on what's going on. Yes, I am still writing. In fact I may have to extend chapter X into a fourth part because, once again, the story is heading in a direction I didn't really foresee. Whoops. Heh. Anyways, I think that I'm getting close to where part III is going to end and once I get there I'll start checking for spelling errors / sections that I want to word differently. If all goes to plan there should be something here shortly, or at least relatively shortly. Time is such a relative thing...

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

I really need to read this over again... Expect me to have my hands full on you the coming days (literary, not literally ). I've loved what I've read here already. Keep up the good work!

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Bathing in eternal sunlight...

{Sig Made By SenileSkunk!}

[INDENT] Jake had always loved the way his ancestors had designed the city. When the crops were high walking down the paths was like passing through into a whole new world; it was almost a cleansing of the spirit. One could feel the living grain surrounding them and Jake was greatly comforted by that feeling. It seemed to whisper and sing all around him, dancing in the wind, bowing and gossiping with itself. A gentle breeze blew through and it waxed and waned in softly rolling waves, bringing a smile to Jake's face and a feeling of peace to his heart. Jake had nearly caught his breath now and they felt confident enough to up the speed to a brisk walk. As they walked they talked. Duncan told him about his family, his mother and father and his younger brother. He said that his father had bit it in a mine collapse when he was twelve, right before his little brother had been born. His mother had named the boy Conner, the name of his father's father. She had nobody to help her support her two children so she had worked in the fields day and night. When he was fourteen he had to drop out of school to raise Conner and by the time he was sixteen he began to doubt his sanity. Jake told him of his own time spent working in the mines and the friends that he had lost to collapses. It was a hard life but a necessity in these times of war. The words felt harsh on his own lips and no sooner had they been spoken did Jake begin to wonder if he really believed it. Duncan remembered nights when his mother had come home nearly at the crack of dawn, hands raw and bloody from the work, and would cry herself to sleep in the room next to his own. She would sob for what seemed to be, to a young man in his mid-teens anyways, an eternity. Some nights sleep never found her and she would weep straight through until it was time for her to go back out to the fields. He had tried confronting her, asking her why she would kill herself so slowly for so little a reward, but she only smiled and told young Duncan that she wanted him and his brother to have a chance at a better life than she had been given, and that hard work was the only way that they would be afforded such luxuries in these tough times. She said that she would drop dead, heart burst in her chest, before she would see them out there working in the fields. For this Duncan respected, and loved, her more than he would ever be able to express in words. Years passed, as they tend to do, and Duncan grew to be a strapping young man. Conner was a sponge. He absorbed anything and everything that was taught to him. He excelled in every subject and before long there was nothing more that his brother could teach him. They both grew restless to see the world at large, but at the same time they both knew that their mother needed them more than she would let on. In most families of the time children did little actual work. They spent their hours playing with friends in the nurseries or skipping aimlessly down the paths while their parents toiled day after day in back-breaking labor. Meals were prepared by the adults, chickens were chased by the children, and the paths were hobbled down by the old folks. Everyone was happy, except for Duncan and Conner. Their young minds were awash with the stress and turmoil usually reserved for rulers of kingdoms or the old and decrepit. They were forced to grow up faster than any child should. There were nights that, save their impromptu experimentations with cooking, there was little or no actual food to be found. There were many nights that they had to cook for their mother, and she had always faked a smile as she told them that the meals that they had prepared for her were wonderful. She had a way of making them feel better, and never once did she complain about her lot in life. One day Duncan had the idea to surprise their mother by visiting her in the fields. Conner filled a skin with water drawn from a nearby well and Duncan brought along a loaf of bread that he had baked himself, the recipe taught to him by an elderly fellow that the local children lovingly called The Old Coot. He was well liked by all of the adults as well and was always available to flash a toothless smile your way. Duncan thought that the bread he had made was a delight and hoped that his mother would enjoy his own attempt as much as she had savored The Old Coot's masterpieces. As they walked down the path leading them towards the fields that their mother worked in they joked and giggled as any ordinary children would. Sadly, this last scrap of innocence would be short lived. They passed the granaries and, not seeing their mother there, continued on to the fields. As they grew nearer they began to hear shouts and muffled cries. At first they ignored the ruckus, figuring that it was just the general hustle and bustle of a large city, but before long they both recognized the cries for what they were and the bread and water which they had carried became unimportant. It was dropped to the ground and there it stayed, forgotten until later years when the boys' young minds had matured enough to truly understand the events of that day. They reached the source of the wailing just in time to see a trio of ruffians fleeing from them. They began to follow suit but quickly broke the chase off when a pathetic voice called them by name. Before they even saw where the voice had come from, they knew what to expect. All of the puzzle pieces fell into place and tears streamed down both of their cheeks as they slowly made their way into the high grain. They were expecting the worst, but nothing that they could have imagined would have prepared them for what they found there. Their mother had been beaten and she lay bruised and bleeding amidst the stalks of grain. Splatters of viscus blood dripped from the leaves and were quickly absorbed by the soil. Duncan silently cursed the greedy earth for drinking his mother's essence so readily and wondered what sort of God would allow something like this to happen to somebody so dear to him. He began to question if he could even believe in such a cruel being, but before he had time to continue down this train of thought any further his attention was brought back to his mother as she choked and coughed up blood with a disgusting gurgling noise. His stomach wretched and heaved, teetering on the edge of all-out nausea. Only through sheer will power did he manage to stay the contents of his stomach, little as they were, and if only for the time being. They both knew three things. That they had to get their mother home, find her a doctor, and that they needed to act fast. She had already lost a lot of blood and she was losing more every moment that they waited. As they took her arms and cradled them over their shoulders, supporting her weight as well as they could, she let out a blood-curdling scream. Several nearby workers froze in place, staring at the two young boys who were hurting this woman enough for her to scream bloody murder, and then promptly dissapeared, wanting nothing more to do with the situation. Duncan thought how that was just like them, greedy peons always looking for a helping hand but never willing to lend one when it was needed. He silently cursed them too, as well as the trio who had done this to his beloved mother in the first place. Might as well cover all the bases while you're at it. Kill two birds with one stone, as the old saying goes. Their journey home was more pleasant than their discovery of their mother, but not by much. They had managed to slow the bleeding but there was still a visible trail of blood behind them. They drew more than a few dirty looks from the washer-women and religious fanatics. One person, a filth-caked beggar by the looks of him, actually spat on Duncan and cursed both him and his brother for being inhuman monsters. Although Duncan wanted nothing more than to stop and bash the fool's teeth in for having the gall to spit on them, he had more important things to take care of at the moment. He settled on giving the beggar a warning, telling him that if he ever saw him within the city walls again that he would allow him the privilege of seeing what his innards looked like spread across the floor before him. The color ran from the beggar's face and he turned and began to run. Apparently he took the threat seriously, as Duncan never did see him again. This was probably better for the both of them, though. Duncan didn't think that he could have really lived up to his threat. As they neared their house, and as people began to recognize them, the questions started flowing. What happened to her, who did it, why would anyone do something like that, wasn't there any justice in this world? Gobble, gobble, gobble. They just kept coming, and not a one of them asking what, if anything, they could do to help her. Duncan silently cursed them as well and realized that he had cursed more people on this day than he had in the whole of his life up until this point. With this thought the last vestiges of his childhood fell away, as a snake sheds it skin once it has outgrown it. He released his final breath of childhood in a soft sigh. The peasants gathered around seemed to feel the change in him because the questions simply stopped coming. Some people slowly trailed off before reaching the end of their question, some stopped cold in mid sentence. Finally one asked if they should get a doctor and Duncan immediately told them that yes, they should get a doctor and that yes, they should hurry. The crowd split and formed a path leading straight to Duncan's home as the good sumaritan ran to get medical help. They managed to get the door open - Duncan was amazed yet again that, with easily two dozen people standing around gawking, not a one of them could open the door for them - and finally got her inside and laying on the soft mattress. The crowd began to push their way in but with a single glaring look Conner turned them all around and once they were outside where they belonged he slammed the door shut with a resounding boom. Before long - Time is a relative thing, you see. Although they only had to wait a couple of minutes, to them, that short span of time felt like an eternity - the villager who had gone for help returned with the local doctor in tow. After a single look at the bruised and beaten woman all of the color was drained from the doctor's face. He looked as if he had seen a ghost, and after later reflection both Duncan and Conner agreed that this was very close to the truth. He told them that their mother was bleeding internally and that he would need to operate if she was to live. He said that there was precious little time and that he would need the boys to be his assistants. He took a pair of scissors from his bag and cut the clothes from their mother. They stared in shock, oblivious to him as he removed a wrapped up sheet containing his tools and unraveled it upon the side table. Had they not known her, they never would have believed the lumpy mass of tissue before them to be human. Only her somewhat recognizable face and semi-intelligable mumblings gave hint to her humanity. There were lumps where no lump should be, bends where limbs had no godly right to bend, and her skin looked the color of vomit. Vomit and blood. The doctor chose a scalpel from his array of instruments, removed a white towel from his bag, and began to cut open the woman's stomach. Very quickly the towel became red and the woman began to scream. You had to think of her as the woman at this point because if you started thinking of her as your mother... Jake realized that Duncan had stopped walking as well as talking and turned around to see how he was doing. Duncan stood a couple of feet behind, staring off into the distance, looking at nothing in particular. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was trembling slightly. He kept muttering something under his breath that Jake couldn't quite hear and when questioned about it he simply said, "I don't want to talk about it." and on the subject he would say nothing more. They walked almost the rest of the distance in silence, listening to the sounds of nature (as well as the slight rumble - which they had both become quite used to by now - that could only be made by the synchronized marching of many, many boots) and barely even looking at each other. As they rounded a corner leading into one of the lower-class housing districts Duncan put his hand gently on Jake's shoulder and asked him what he thought. Jake turned to face him and spoke softly, "You are what you are. We each have our own trials that we must face in our own time. What is past is gone, what is future shall always be left unseen. What is now is all that truly is. You are here, and beyond that is not my place to say. The rest you must decide for yourself." Jake smiled and turned to continue walking. "That's it? That's all you can say?!" Duncan shouted. As Jake turned around his face was still held in the exact same smile. He spoke again, just as softly as before, "Whether or not you like it, that is the way things are. Or at least that's the way I see them. If you don't agree with what I think, well, maybe you should just figure out what you think for yourself then." and he turned back and continued walking. Duncan stood, dumbfounded, in the middle of the path for a few seconds before jogging to catch up. When he did catch up he punched Jake playfully on the shoulder, causing him to turn around and raise his guard to prepare to defend against an attack that would never come, and he never faltered a step in the process. Duncan thought that he was still pretty fine tuned for such an old man. Duncan smiled and, after the inital rush of shock had passed, Jake smiled back. They walked down the street and turned into Duncan's yard with smiles on their faces. A familiar middle-aged woman sat in a rocking chair on the porch, beaming a smile of her own right back at them. She rose to her feet to greet them. [/INDENT] To Be Concluded... (For real this time, I swear.)

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Right. Collosal post in the works which is only logical seeing the chapters you've written here! I hope for you that I'm in the right mood to go into detail and look at the story at the same time . I'm going to leave a blank line in between paragraphs, okay? Chapter Six He was not afraid to extinguish life if he thought it to be corrupt or evil. -> afraid of extinguishing life He knew this to be true, he had made mistakes in the past. -> He knew this to be true. He had made mistakes in the past. The images and words played over and over in his head, the choices he had made. -> The images and words played over and over in his head; the choices he had made. but he knew that it was someplace that he knew, or had known at some point in time. -> lose the comma. Trying to reason with a delusional episode, he felt extremely sane at the moment. -> Trying to reason with a delusional episode; He felt extremely sane at the moment. However much I'm liking the style it's written in, there's still a lingering feeling like you're either making me wait in vain and are just rambling on, or you are developing your character without me even knowing it... The only thing I can do is read on and hope that Jake will learn to fight with his inner demons instead of jumping around them . And luckily at this point some real character development happens . (§6 [paragraph six)) Often times during conversations ... -> Oftentimes or ofttimes I ran into some... business that I have to take care of. -> ... that I had to take care of. Then at the bottom in strange, yet beautiful, curling letters it read, "I have faith in you." -> lose the comma. "Fancy that." Jake thought -> "Fancy that," Jake thought Jake shouted to the nearest person,"Oi! What're you all doing there?" -> you missed a space in between the comma and the quotation marks. Machines grinded and whirred, Blacksmith hammers rung out as they struck their anvils. -> change the comma to a semi-colon or just make the b from blacksmith small. And then as quickly as it had come it had passed, "I must be cracking up." Jake thought to himself. -> And then as quickly as it had come it had passed. "I must be cracking up," Jake thought to himself. He had to be strong, and keep his mind clear. -> I advise you to remove that comma. You tend to overuse them, and sometimes it doesn't really matter because it's a case of personal interest, but in this sentence it's just too much. There would be consequences for that, he knew he had to keep his head in the right place. -> There would be consequences for that. He knew he had to keep his head in the right place. He had to prepare lessons for his students, he needed more than just soldiers. -> change the comme to a semi-colon and capitalise the h. These were dangerous times, he had warriors to mold. -> These were dangerous times. He had warriors to mold. There were also people as old as their mid fifties -> mid-fifties or midfifties, but not mid fifties. but they were still in good physical condition. -> You state this as a fact, but I doubt that it would be possible for one person to have scoured a grand total of 500 men, specifically the physical condition of those in their mid-fifties in the blink of an eye, or at best the time it takes him to round a corner and walk up to them. Seems a little unbelievable. to hear him clearly. "Now, some of you may be afraid to kill..." -> to hear him clearly: "Now, some of you may be afraid to kill..." Chapter Seven Glossy eyes stared from behind frightened faces. -> how can eyes stare from behind the face they're embedded in? ... too afraid to face what they were up against quite yet. -> ... not quite ready to face what was coming for them; they were scared. Weapons were strapped at their sides, back, and legs. -> lose the last comma. They had seen battle before, he could be certain of it. -> They had seen battle before. He could be certain of it. Then, I learned one simple, but valuable, truth. -> Then I learned one simple, but valuable, truth: There are certain situation which you can think your way out of, and there are some which can be talked out of. -> There are certain situations which you can think your way out of and there are some which can be talked out of. ... in wonder, "You will be my generals..." -> ... in wonder. "You will be my generals..." tone of authority, "How many of you don't have a weapon?" nearly every person -> ... tone of authority, "How many of you don't have a weapon?" Nearly every person... Household objects don't count as a weapons folks... -> Household objects don't count as weapons folks... and the rest of them raised their hands, "Well..." -> and the rest of them raised their hands. "Well..." to his dismay the majority of people just looked around with a dumbfounded look on their face. -> To his dismay the majority of people just looked around with a dumbfounded look on their face. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped, "Fall in..." -> Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped. "To fall in..." To his dismay, once again, nobody moved, "I said..." -> To his dismay, once again, nobody moved. "I said..." If you're going to use equal constructions, then use them in very close-knit structure. 'to his dismay' isn't used in such a fashion (if you need an example just ask me), so it's best to change it. Then there's also the issue of you using commas and full stops, or none at all, around quotations without a sense of direction or rules. I suggest you reflect on this thread. For now I will point out the errors for you though. You don't get paid to sit around jabbering with each other, you get paid to fight -> full stop or semi-colon both with a capital. Your choice. smaller packs within those, how those groups crossed over into each other. -> smaller packs within those(,) and how those groups crossed over into each other. but those who did see him sheathed their weapons and fell silent. -> they have only been given swords, no sheathes, so how could they all sheath their swords? It was a middle aged woman -> middle-aged the shouts and blood curdling screams -> bloodcurdling when I say it, do I make myself clear? -> when I say it. Do I make myself clear? less than a dozen people mumbled "Yeah, yeah..." and began to talk with one another. -> Less than a dozen people mumbled, "Yeah, yeah..." and began to talk with one another. if I don't grant your wish first, do I make myself clear? -> if I don't grant your wish first. Do I make myself clear? and almost every single person responded, wide eyed and petrified with fear, with a resounding, "Yes sir!" -> And almost every single person responded, wide-eyed (or wideeyed) and petrified with fear, with a resounding, "Yes sir!" This is quite abrupt... The one second they are chattering like market traders and the next they're as docile as lambs. It doesn't work like that. You should at least have described 'a silence that wafted over the plain' etc. or something like that. and the people, and the tress, and the clouds -> trees And indeed I concur with others who said that you rushed the training of these people. You not only make them become an apparatus within a day, but you also treat them as a whole without there being exceptions, which is an exception in and of itself. Literary freedom is a beautiful thing, but you shouldn't stretch it . There are people who train for years and never reach the skill level that you are at right now. -> level of skill... but that might just be a personal thing. and he sat on a nearby tree stump, pulled his sword free of its sheathe and a flat stone from his pack, and began to sharpen his blade to perfection. -> He sat himself down on a nearby tree stump, pulled his sword free of its sheathe and a flat stone from his pack(,) and began to sharpen his blade to perfection. The stone was returned to its pack, the sword to its sheathe, and him to his place... -> and he to his place... and fell silent once again, "..." -> and fell silent once again. "..." They are the warrior... -> They are the warriors... Shame on you! :-) more than one person cried out in horror. -> More than one person cried out in horror. ... and voice, to memory, "I know..." -> ... and voice, to memory. "I know..." ... than he had intended on... -> ... than he had intended them to... To his dismay -> arr matey! Man overboard! He tried rasising his hand... -> raising They had burned all of the fuel that they had... -> They had burned all of the fuel they had... This is the zero form, where it is better to not have a relative pronoun than to have one. Leaves floated almost motionlessly in mid air... -> Leaves floated almost motionlessly in mid-air... He saw the middle aged woman... -> He saw the middle(-)aged woman... ... and began to speak, "..." -> ... and began to speak. "..." You all have the best instincts that I have ever seen... -> You all have the best instincts I have ever seen... ... and a defeaning roar rose up from the crowd. -> A deafening roar rose up from the crowd. ... faces gleaming with joy, they felt like they were ready to take on the world. -> ... faces gleaming with joy; They felt like they were ready to take on the world. ... could he finally continue, "..." -> ... could he finally continue. "..." ... what is going on around, as well as inside of, you. -> ... going on around as well as inside of you. [/i]With the commas as you put them it gave a very awkward pause to the sentence.[/i] You must always be mindful of your surroundings, they may present you with a tactical advantage. -> You must always be mindful of your surroundings; They may present you with a tactical advantage. For a minute Jake watched them as they walked away... -> For a minute Jake, watched them as they walked away... And now when you can use a comma, you don't! Utterly ununderstandable... Only then did he realise that he was hearing, and had been hearing for some time now, a battle raging on. -> Only then did he realise what he was hearing, and had been hearing for some time now: a raging battle. When opening it he had a strange sensation of deja vu... -> When opening it he had a strange sensation of déjà vu... It is still French! He crawled under his covers and prepared to let the boundaries of existance slip away, if only for a short while. -> existence It's late and I'll continue as soon as I'm able. I'd like to commend you on making this brilliant story, but do be mindful of niggling details...

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Bathing in eternal sunlight...

{Sig Made By SenileSkunk!}

Haha awesome. I read through the corrections once and I'll have to read through them a couple more times to get it all. A couple things: I don't know how to do the e and a with the little accent marks over them. *sheepish grin* Also, I don't know why I keep saying existance...... ence...ence...ence dagnabbit lol I do tend to overuse commas. I'll have to work on that as well. (To make the irony complete, I nearly used a comma to seperate those two statements heh [Now the real question is if those two statement would be better seperated by a semi/normal colon?]) I'm still figuring out when to use a colon and when to use a semi-colon. I never was much of an English person so I have no actual concept of sentence structure. I just kind of write the way that I hear it in my head. You definately found some of my little inconsistencies too. This is awesome for me because I tend to just write with no pre-planning so there's a very high chance of things not quite fitting together as the story evolves. I love your input as it usually forces me to take a step back and look at things from a perspective that I'd never thought of before. It looks like I'm going to have to go in and have open heart surgery on some bits. That will be hard for me as I have troubles making extreme revisions. That's something that I'm going to have to break myself of, isn't it? I'm still having troubles with the capitalizations after colons and semi-colons. I'm not really sure when and when not to make them capital. I'm guessing it has something to do with the subject as 'He' is capitalized where 'the' is not. I'll have to do some research into that.

Then at the bottom in strange, yet beautiful, curling letters it read, "I have faith in you." -> lose the comma.

Which comma should I get rid of? The one before the quotation marks? I'm thinking that's right as it's kind of a continuation of the same thought. Brilliant corrections. Every time I see one of your posts I'm a little afraid and a little relieved to read what you've written. The only way I'm going to become a better writer is to learn from my mistakes, and to learn from a mistake you have to find it first. I take my figurative hat off to you, sir! Kudos!

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Don't thank me yet, I'm still in the middle of my own linguistic voyage de bonheur (and I intend to keep it that way for as long as I can), so this is in no way professional. But the blind must help the blind. Here is a site that has been my grammatical bible for like... quite a while! Linky! Here is the advice about colons: Linky! Here is the advice about semi-colons: Linky! And here is the advice about commas: Linky! Have no fear. We come in peace. There are more corrections on the way (although I'm not sure if it's for today. I have some spare time tomorrow so I might squeeze it in then . In the mean time however, don't stay up for me and keep writing that stuff! And yes, extreme overhauls are difficult and sometimes constricting. But don't forget: Sometimes we work best under pressure and within limits than we do without the both. (capital, heehee!)

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Bathing in eternal sunlight...

{Sig Made By SenileSkunk!}

I never really focussed at spelling and grammar when reading a story. Ammy is far better at that. Instead, I try to look at the story itself. And I must say it was simply brilliant. Altough it was a bit confusing for me early on, the story is deep, well-told and intriguing, The characters have their own backgrounds and personalities. They are more than just the average Joe and Will. I kept read since I started, and there are only a few stories which manage to grab my attention like yours did. And more importantly, hold it for long enough so that I'd continue reading. I'll be following your progress from now on. I'm highly interested in how this story turns out. So continue the excellent writing, and astound us even more.

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Back for more! Chapter Eight his entire perception of existance in general -> ence... ence... His entire life began to take on a different tone, his entire being was evolving almost faster than his mind could handle. -> ... . His... He thought of ways to catch fish and, stripping plants to make twine, carving hooks like Seya had shown him from the strongest wood he could find, and using an ingenious counter-weighted pulley system of his own design, he could catch five fish without even being there to check the lines. -> long sentence, innit? Yeah, I think so too... Use full stops and semi-colons to split it up. Where the former paths had had branches -> otherwise you're so creative with your vocabulary... What happened? along with grooves carved by the repeated passage of horse drawn carts. -> horse-drawn. As far as I can tell from the system of word knitting it's almost always separated, like in 'word knitting' (which I made up on the spot). On the other hand you have adjectives and (pro)nouns combined with past participles, like horse-drawn and ill-equipped. Instead of fully separating these two words, you signify their relation by putting a hyphen in between. Anyone else who can back me up on this one? I'll ask my teacher of English next monday (first chance I'll get) He was almost ready to give in to the voice and returned to his personal sanctuary when he heard a scream off in the distance. -> ... ready to give in and (to) return... "... You never know who, or what, is listening." he added... -> "... ," he added... "What in the hell do you think you're doing!?" -> two marks? You need but one, the question mark. You already described the volume of your voice in the preceding sentence. They each had small blades - more than likely each felt offered ample protection - which would matter little in an actual battle. -> I'm only going to bore you with aestethics: when using hyphens in a sentence there are two ways you can do it. 'It felt like a strange--forget strange, awkward--moment.' -> you can always do this kind of punctuation, because it's just two dashes. And remember that you don't have to leave any spaces. 'It felt like a strange—forget strange, awkward—moment.' -> this kind of punctuation only happens in Word and other text-processors. Here too, remember the spaces, or rather, their omission. Our business is with the lady here, not with you boy. -> vocation: ... not with you, boy. Many before you have done so, and none of them are alive to tell the tale. -> have done/are alive. Better is, have done/(have) lived He wondered how he would kill them, how they would choose to attack him, which one would die first. -> ... , and which one would die first. Wipe that grin off your face, cully, while you still have a face to wipe it off of. -> ... still have a face to wipe off. (generalised version, sounds better) This is something I read a lot and which I don't like at all. The mood of some characters changes every second, all because of a barely visible grin, a hardly audible, husky laugh... The antagonists don't know what the protagonist is thinking and vice versa (in most cases of course, unless one of the two is a psychologist, and still!). You should have them keep on laughing, too stupid to notice the grin on the boy's face. The leader might be doubtful, but not overly compelled to be frightened by a grin from a boy... Make it realistic! If you mean to attack me, then get on with it. -> you don't really need this comma here. Just pointing it out. and then he shot them a full fledged smile. -> full-fledged It was a smile that made all of their blood run cold, causing it to boil at the same time. -> why I don't like this sentence? See my italic text. After a long silence the leader finally acted. -> After a long silence, the leader finally acted. slowly and blatently raised his arm -> blatantly Enraged, and more than a little surprised... -> if ever there was a possibility of over-acting in a narrative, then this would a step down that road all right. Please, forestall this kind of writing, it cramps your style. Fate hadn't decided what would become of these men, they had done that for themselves. -> the use of a comma is doubtable here. Try a semi-colon. the present is flowing by you -> somehow I prefer 'flowing you by' to 'flowing by you' because it just feels more fluid, which fits your style. She was beautiful, the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen -> cheesy line alert! , a follow-up from the D.I.D. (damsel in distress) thing... as if to say "Come here." and they both leaned in -> no full stop in such intermittent sentences, and I'm also not sure whether it should have a capital the final words that they would hear on this plane of existance. -> ence.... ence and had you not you may have lived to see yet another day -> and had you not, you may have lived to see yet another day which I'm sure that you will -> which I'm sure you will With a single fluid movement steel whistled through the air -> With a single fluid movement, steel whistled through the air Surprised by this sudden human contact, he reach for his sword -> reached their breath entertwined in a blissful moment -> intertwined This is the best that it can get, it's all downhill from here. -> This was the best it could get. It'd all be downhill from here. After somewhere near ten seconds (Although to them both it had felt more like ten years) -> this sentence would be better off without capital and encompassed by hyphens, and not brackets. Some good things in this chapter, and some stupid melodramatics that stuck out on occassion. But nobody's perfect! Keep on working; you're doing well! I'll get to nine and *gulp* ten when I'll have some time to spare . My exams are coming up, so I probably won't be able to do it all, but I'm hoping that I'll be able to do nine at least.

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Bathing in eternal sunlight...

{Sig Made By SenileSkunk!}

*Glee!* I'm back! You better be taking notes! Two notes: I'm not at all sure about the hyphen thing where you interrupt a stream of thought with another one (blah blah blah--blah blah--blah blah.) any more. There seems to be no kind of arrangement really, so you can do it whichever way you please. Then, second, there seem to also be no rules whatsoever about the hyphenating in betwee nouns and verbs, adjectives and verbs or any other combination, which I think is poor of the English language . Chapter Nine As Jake opened his eyes an odd mixture of deja vu and forboding flushed through him. -> déjà vu . If you have a keyboard you should be just capable of doing these signs. :-D (See this link to get a picture of these signs.) but after the perfect sense that they had made only moments before began to slowly fade. -> lose the after, it just doesn't work (the entire sentence is actually too heavy, but that's for you to decide what you'll be doing with it). and then as quickly as it had happened all was again silent. -> this is a preferential thing mainly, but I do feel that the again needs to be behind silent. The presence had masked the slipped emotion and now studied Jake to see if he had caught it.> to catch on to something I did the best that I could, but it was not enough. -> the best I could (again, the zero form. In formal and written language it is indeed mandatory that you always expliticly use your 'that's, 'which'es and 'who's, but this doesn't count for the zero form. I tried to hold onto the outlying strongholds but I was too weak. -> comma in front of the but. I think that the comma in front of the but is the only consistent factor in many languages . They march against us. -> marched, or 'if they march against us...' to give it more of a nudge towards the future. Once when he was young he had been bitten by rattlesnake -> a rattlesnake Seya was right about that much, Jake did not die. -> use a semi-colon instead of a comma. Perhaps there was no reason why he survived so long, perhaps -> unless you use an and, there is no reason for this comma. Make it a full stop and capitalise the perhaps. Not so much frail, but definately old. -> definitely Why do they try so hard to take our city over? -> when you have a verb that consists of a stem and a prefix, then when you separate these two pieces in a sentence, you should always keep them as close together as you can. ... take over our city? tiny balls of light undulating and spiraling -> spiralling not yet anyways -> there is absolutely no valid reason for you to use a vulgarised form of anyway when the original would do just fine. its existence many years after his own death. -> lose the own. The own in this sentence would normally reflect to the the subject. The subject is not the man but the scholars in this sentence. Besides we know enough with 'his death'. and then continued on in the same calm voice as before, -> no comma, a full stop will do. and that we each constantly eminate fields of this energy from our bodies -> emanate he envisioned full blown, in your face, I'm a god, bow before my might, fire and brimstone, immortality. -> *Groans* full blown, in-your-face, I'm-a-god, bow-before-my-might, fire-and-brimstone immortality. it continued, seeming to have become drained from the effort of the telling, -> your sentence ends there, no need for a comma. He didn't want to accept the fact that these people were a custom tailored breed of neo-human. -> custom-tailored (even though it's pointless to do this, I still like to correct with some consequence and coherence, even if it actually doesn't matter :-D) the face smiled, chuckling lightly, a gleam of love and happiness in his eyes. -> I'm unsure whether you're using a style here or not. Normally it should be 'in its eyes' because your subject is 'the face' which is an object. But of course that face is a metonymy for the god, who is a person. In that regard the 'his eyes' would be correct, but I'm not sure if you meant it like that... :-) It was a raspy murmer -> murmur I don't really like the immediate moodswing you give this god character. He goes from practically orgasmic to gothic... I mean... You can make him feel held-back and other things that reflect the nature of how he has to adapt his cheery mood to Jake's brewing uncertainty, but you can't just let him empathise as if he's an emotional jojo. little more than a whisper, -> no comma! Full stop! When your sentence ends before a quotation it still stops! the end of a sentence inside quotation marks is something entirely different and completely unrelated use of punctuation, so do not confuse these two. and then the face began to slowly disintegrate -> And then... then the God said something else, but... -> Then the God... what it was that he was doing and where he thought that he was going. -> Time for another lesson in grammar. The zero form is often used when a certain object (a thing) is the object of the relative sentence (I am. I = subject, am = verb; I eat food. I = subject, eat = verb, food = object). what it was he was doing and where he thought he was going. He knew who it was before he even turned around, it was a voice -> that comma is supposed to be a full stop. Jeez man, am I glad that I found you. -> It isn't necessary that you correct this mistake, because characters are allowed to make mistakes, as long as they are sensical, but I just want to mention it once again. '... am I glad I found you.' probably in his mid twenties -> mid-twenties as he was himself before time had taken its toll on his mind and body -> as he had been himself before time... That was the past, his thoughts needed to be on the present now. -> full stop, no comma I like how you combine lots of elements into this post. Jake's past, present and future are one thing; a theory of manipulatory procreation; an explanation for the fighting spirit in all of them; the oncoming battle; character development, Duncan and Jake. But what I do not like are the recurring grammar issues. Of course, I am correcting this after you have been left unchecked for quite a while, but still. I'd expect someone to have corrected you earlier already. When you have to write things in school, don't you get it back with the same kind of comments, or am I just seeing things? I'll be back with Ten I next.

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Bathing in eternal sunlight...

{Sig Made By SenileSkunk!}

Okay, a little update on what's going on with me. I've kept myself quite busy as of late. Too busy perhaps. School's going well but I haven't written anything in about a month or so. I've been thinking about the story again and may get around to finishing the first book soon. I have no idea of a general time frame until it's finished but I have a feeling that once I get started the ending will just kind of pour out of me.

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Let it flow from here on. You've set down some basics, which counts for much already . School's been hard on all of us, so don't let it bother you . Welcome back, I thought we'd lost you!

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Bathing in eternal sunlight...

{Sig Made By SenileSkunk!}

[INDENT]The sun shone brightly in the afternoon sky. Shadows fell across the porch and down the steps in jaunted angles. Birds chirped happily from trees in the distance. Rabbits hopped playfully through a nearby field. The breeze blew softly across the land. In this moment all was right with the world. Today was a good day, that much was for sure. Come what may today was a good day. For a long moment the three stood in silence, enjoying the beauty of the world. All of their previous woes were forgotten. They felt like children again. In this blissful state of ignorance anything seemed possible. They felt as if their wildest dreams could be fulfilled if only they wished it. A simple nod of the head and a flick of the wrist and off to the exotic island they'd go. Nobody to worry about protecting, nobody to worry about being protected from. Peace. A life in peace. A life without war. Of course it was impossible but it never hurt to dream. Their minds returned to the world at hand. They had all shared the same thoughts of war and wore the weight of it on their faces. The sense of invincibility was gone. Each of them knew what they were up against and didn't like their odds much at all. They had five hundred people on their side - maybe as many as one thousand - but how many the enemy had was the real question. One thousand? Two thousand? Ten? Twenty? Jake refused to think like that. He refused to allow himself to think that all had been lost before the battle had even begun. He forced himself to repeat in his mind that no matter how big the force was that he would die defending his people if that was what fate had dictated for him. He hoped that it wouldn't come to that but he was willing to give everything that he had to defend these people. These people were everything that he had. It had taken him a long time to realize this but he had finally figured it out in just the past few days. From inside the house came a voice, followed by muffled footsteps slapping against the wooden boards below. A young boy burst through the door and paused on the porch for a moment to look out into the yard and then jumped clear down the steps and ran straight into his brother's open arms. Duncan picked Conner up and gave him a great big bear hug, as was to his liking. Conner laughed like a madman and before long he had everyone joining in. They all laughed until their sides hurt. Duncan set his little brother down and the touching moment was over all too quickly as they stood wiping tears from the corners of their eyes, chuckling out the last of the laughter. There was serious business to attend to. As Duncan ruffled his hand through Conner's hair the woman gestured towards the door and spoke in a serene tone. "We got some planning to do. We best get to gettin' while there's still time for that sort of thing." Jake nodded his agreement and began to mount the steps leading up to the porch when a deafening roar split through his brain like a bolt of lightning. The ground itself shook with the force of it. It was so close that it sounded as if it were right outside of the walls. The roar was followed by the resounding uniform cheer of a massive number of warriors. The town's defensive warning bells began to toll and the streets were quickly flooded with peasants, all running to and fro with an aimless, confused look in their eyes. It was too late. The army had arrived. As if in response to this thought a barrage of arrows passed over the wall, followed shortly by a second barrage, and made their way up to their zenith before curving back down directly towards the groups of villagers. Jake had only one thought and shouted it as fast and as loud as he could manage. "To me!" Duncan understood immediately and took Conner by the hand, almost pulling his arm out of the socket as he raced towards the relative safety of the house. As Duncan closed the gap between him and Jake to about five feet or so he was nearly pulled over backwards as Conner jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding an arrow by the width of his thumb. As they regained their balance and began to turn to continue running a second barrage of arrows was making its way towards them. Duncan thought that if they could only make it the last five feet before the arrows hit they would be safe. Conner's hand slipped from Duncan's grip and Duncan spun around, no longer caring about the arrows raining down all around him. Conner was laying on his back on the ground with a feathered shaft of wood protruding from his chest. A small red puddle began forming beneath the boy. Duncan nearly dove to his brother's side, gasping for breath in choked sobs. He took Conner's hand in his own and looked into his eyes. As tears streamed down both their cheeks a sudden realization hit him. His littler brother was going to die. He blamed God, he blamed society, he blamed himself. How could he live on in a world that would allow a child to die in such a way? How could he believe in a God that would allow something like this to happen? His train of thought was broken by a sharp pain in his right bicep. Looking down he saw a triangular point of steel set in a splintering wood shaft sticking from his arm, blood oozing freely from the fresh wound. For a moment he could think of nothing else but his brother, but soon after the initial shock had worn off and the extent of the pain he was in finally hit him a blood curdling cry was let forth from his lips that could be heard echoing down the streets and alleyways. A small hand reached up and cupped his left cheek leaving streaked prints of blood from his eye to his jawline. Looking down into his brothers eyes he felt at peace. Conner spoke in choked gasps, blood gurgling in his throat before being spit out and running down the sides of his mouth. "Don't worry Duncan. We'll be fine, there's nothing to be ascared of." Conner broke out in a fit of coughing, tiny blobs and tendrils of blood trailing through the air. Some stuck on Duncan's face but he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore except Conner. The boy regained his composure and continued after a couple of gasping breaths. "This isn't the end Duncan. This is just the beginning. We all do what we are meant to, no more and no less. You still have things to do here." His eyes began to become hazy and glazed and seemed to focus on things unseen by the waking eye."Duncan? Are you there? I can't see you Duncan." "I'm here little man," Duncan replied, "I'm here with you. You're not alone" Conner smiled up at his big brother and slightly nodded his head. "I know that now. We're never alone, the love is always there. It's always there. -bye brother. I love you." Duncan was weeping freely now and he choked back sobs long enough to tell his little brother that he loved him too. Conner's breathing became erratic and he gasped for breaths in sudden bursts, each one of which Duncan was sure would be his last. After a short struggle Conner choked out two more sentences, his last in this world. "I'll see you on the other side, brother. We'll be waiting in the clearing at the end of the path." He smiled, a beautiful smile so alive and full of love that it warmed Duncan's aching heart, and patted Duncan's leg softly. His eyes rolled around, his eyelids fluttered and then stopped halfway open and his smile slowly faded. As his head lolled to one side Duncan knew that he was dead. His little brother was gone. A coldness fell over his mind and a sudden silent knowing washed through him. Without a thought he scooped Conner's lifeless body up and began stumbling towards the house. The world seemed to be rocking back and forth as the deck of a large boat at sea does and stars began to fall before his vision. He managed to get to the steps and as he raised his foot to go up an arrow pierced through his left calf and a new pain flared through his body. He was going down - going down hard - and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Before he knew it Jake was there supporting him. He was gently laid on the patio floor and Conner was laid beside him, peacefully staring blindly up into nothingness. After a short struggle Duncan blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You have to save them, man. I can't fight like this. I'm gonna be fighting enough just to hold onto my own life. It's up to you now. Rally them, man. You rally those troops and you kick these bastards' asses for me! Now go, while there's still time!" Jake paused for a brief moment that seemed to stretch into eternity and took it all in. Now, more than ever, he had a clear image of what he was fighting for, what he had been fighting for all along. He somehow managed a smile and then jumped down the steps before racing up the street as fast as his old legs would carry him. Buildings flew by in a blur as tears streaked down his cheeks. A sudden sense of forboding washed through him. God had forsaken him. God had allowed things to go so terribly wrong. Maybe they were wrong to ever worship such an imperfect being in the first place. He barely registered a crunching rumble in the distance and only fully realized what was happening once the cries began to reach his ears. The wall had been breached and the enemy's armies were swarming into the city. He was too late. With a sharp turn he headed straight towards the source of the sound. As he saw glinting steel in the distance he drew his sword and prepared his mind for the battle that was to come. Rushing headlong into the oncoming troops he hacked and slashed at anything that moved. Wave after wave came rushing at him and his sword cut through them in a fluid dance of death. Ten, twenty, thirty men were felled by his blade. Some were nearly as old as he was and some were nearly as young as Conner had been. In the end it made no difference of their age. They were slain all the same. The attacking soldiers were forced to split up and go around as bodies began to pile up, blocking their unhindered attack. Jake cut them down as easily as he had defeated the rest. As he landed his hundredth killing blow he was dismayed to see that a squad of archers was setting up just inside the city walls for another volley. He killed with no thought, no remorse for the lives he was taking. God had left him and now it was up to him - and him alone - to save his people. In his mind's eye he saw the smiling face of of his God, although it was no longer smiling. It was twisted and contorted in a grimace of supreme pain. It seemed to flicker and waver for a moment before exploding into a shower of a million balls of light and slowly fading into nothingness. The presence that he had felt for all these years was gone. Their God had forsaken them and they had forsaken it. Without belief it had ceased to exist. From behind the walls the giant creature roared in triumph. It was aware of their almost certain victory. Jake felt lost and alone and continued to mindlessly kill anything that moved on him, shrouded by the cold veil of battle. He knew that he was going to die sooner or later and only wanted to kill as many as he could before they took him down. As the archers let loose their first volley of arrows he realized that a small group of troops had flanked him and were sneaking up behind him but as he whirled around to deal with them he knew that he was too late. An armored fist connected with the back of his head and he slowly fell towards the ground like a tree felled by a lumberjack. Stars danced before his vision as tendrils of blackness seeped in from the sides. As he crashed to the earth in a plume of dust the sounds of combat weakened, his vision faded and for a time darkness was all that he knew.[/INDENT] The End... for now...

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

"Conner was laying on his back on the ground" => "Conner was lying on his back on the ground" "society, he blamed himself." => "society, and he blamed himself." "jawline" => "jaw line" "nothing to be ascared of." => "nothing to be scared of." "sudden sense of forboding washed" => "sudden sense of foreboding washed" "smiling face of of his God" => "smiling face of his God"

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Internet problems fixed...

Looks like I'm back.

Haha thankee for the corrections. Ascared was intentional as that's what I heard Conner say in my head but I'm not sure if it really came across right. I think it kind of symbolises his youth and innocence. For what it's worth I think that it turned out pretty well. It's not quite what I was expecting but it's definately been an interesting ride. Now I get to start the monumental task of revising it. Thanks to anyone that has ever left input I have some good ideas of what didn't really work as well as most, if not all, of my silly mistakes. I may start writing the second book but chances are I'll wait until revisions on the first are completed before doing any real key-pounding. I do have a general idea of where things are going from here but from what I've seen so far that doesn't really mean much. It'll be interesting to see how it all turn out in the end.

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

I'd love to help you out . I inted to be writing too next week, so I might as well start off by practicing my eyes to spot errors . And damnit, I'm spotting errors I hadn't spotted before in some chapters... I think I'm just going to copy it all into Word, use the Highlight Corrections function, and then give you both versions, so you can ask questions later on .

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Bathing in eternal sunlight...

{Sig Made By SenileSkunk!}

Sorry for the double post, but I just wanted you to know that you have a short novella going for you here . It's 45 pages long in Word .

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Bathing in eternal sunlight...

{Sig Made By SenileSkunk!}

I haven't posted anything here in ages so I figured I should put an update as to what's going on with the story. I haven't had time to revise the majority of the first book but I've just begun the writing of the second book. I'm not 100% sure of where the story is going, but as I was never really sure where the story was going in the first place I'm not too worried about that. I can't make any promises but if all goes well I should have the first chapter done relatively soon. (I'm so specific, I know ) Hopefully I'll have something to put up here before you know it. Peace

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

[INDENT] The screams of a thousand slain innocents echoed through Jake's mind. Glimpses of their faces flashed before his eyes. Cries of death and despair echoed through the night. There were no stars in the sky. Clouds blocked the heavens from view. The light of countless raging fires reflected off of the clouds, making them seem to be a slowly rolling, undulating pillow of liquid fire. What Jake took at first to be snow fluttered down all around him. He thought it was too hot outside, and it was the wrong time of the year, for snow. Only upon catching a flake and rubbing it between his fingers did he realize that it was ash. He wondered whether the ash had come from burning wood or from human flesh and wretched dryly as he tried to wipe the gray filth from his fingers. No matter what he did it would not come off. No matter how much he washed his hands they would never be clean. These cursed dealers of death were stained with the blood of many. It had all been washed off but it would never be completely gone. Jake could still smell it. He could still feel it. It would haunt him for all eternity. A soft dripping sound began to echo from the distance. Jake wondered where the sound was coming from but he could see no discernable source. As he stood to investigate the ground began to warble and shimmer beneath his feet. The buildings were momentarily transparent and then quickly returned. Jake found that even in their invisibility they still maintained substance. He could see a family of rats scurrying inside of a wall as the house faded in and out of existence. Suddenly the ground below his feet was no longer solid. He watched as the world fell away from him and as his freefall started gaining speed he could see nothing but darkness. He could hear moaning and sobbing. Cries of both men and women, young and old, reverberated through the sea of nothingness. It sounded to him like people being tortured. It sounded like pain and misery. Slowly the sounds began to solidify and it wasn't long before Jake realized that it had all been a dream. It had all been a dream except for the screams. Now that he was awake the screams were still there. Now they weren't as vague as they had been and he could hear every minute detail. There were women and children as well as men. The bastards were torturing children. Jake felt on the verge of tears but he held them back. That's what they wanted. They wanted to break him down but he wouldn't let them. He had let them get the best of him once and he wasn't planning on doing it again. In his mind he heard voices that he recognized. Voices from his past that haunted his waking thoughts sent shivers up his spine. The voices were familiar but he couldn't place where he knew them from. There were things locked behind doors inside his mind that should never be opened but Jake feared those doors would not remain closed forever. As if triggered by this thought, the image of the door in his mind began to break. Cracks spidered from the lock outwards and soon the steel was creaking and groaning, held together by Jake's will alone. The effort was too taxing in his current state and the image of the door began to fade. He knew that he couldn't hold it together any more but he did not want to face the horrors held within. He didn't want to face the past but he could prevent it no longer. As his consciousness began to slip away from him the door shattered and his final glimpse before fading to darkness was her face; Her beautiful face with her flowing blonde hair falling over her shoulders like waterfalls of gold as she smiled at him. [/INDENT]

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

The second chapter is now finished, but instead of posting it right away I'm going to let it simmer a little as I keep writing. Fear not, though. When it's ready I'll be sure to put it up right away. More to come soon!

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.

Chapter II ~Down the Path~

[INDENT]Her name was Susan. She had told him that shortly after they began walking. By now the three thugs seemed a distant memory. After a brief discussion consisting of him asking why they would be after her and her saying that she had no idea, they spoke no more on the subject. She instead told him of her home. She told him of her family and the farm she had grown up on. She told him of her horses and the stables where she would feed, brush and take care of them. She had no brothers or sisters and so the horses were like siblings to her. They heard her deepest and darkest secrets. She told them things that she dared not tell anyone else. She loved those horses as much as she loved her parents. One night she heard a commotion in the stables and had gone out to investigate. When she reached the door she timidly peeked in, pitchfork clutched so tightly in her trembling hands that her knuckles had turned white, and saw a sight that forever haunted her. Something had made its way past the gate and had already slaughtered one of the horses, Ginger, by ripping her throat apart. Below Ginger's body the hay and dirt was stained a deep crimson. The horse's eyes, which were once clear and full of life but were now clouded by a milky haze, stared blankly into nothingness. Susan swallowed hard with an audible click and summoned all of her willpower to continue further into the stables. Before she had taken three steps she heard a rustling of hay and a deep growling which froze her in her tracks. At the other end of the stables from Honey's stall on the left and Butter's stall on the right emerged two wolves, dark gray fur gradually fading into their white paws, blood dripping from their drawn back lips and razor sharp teeth. Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment she thought that she would faint. She knew that if she fainted they would rip her to shreds and so she steadied herself on the pitchfork as they slowly began to creep towards her. Her heart pounded in her chest and her blood pulsed through her head. The wolves seemed to move in slow motion, frothy droplets of blood dripping from their mouths with a floating softness. Somewhere deep down inside of her she knew that if she was going to survive she would have to act immediately. Almost upon instinct she used her right foot to kick the end of the pitchfork up from the ground and thrust it directly at the closer of the two wolves, the one on the right. It was forced to retreat from this attack and the other wolf took the opportunity to lung at Susan's open left side. With lightning speed she withdrew her weapon and thrust it forwards with all of her strength. The force of the collision drove her backwards, nearly knocking her from her feet, but she tightened every muscle in her body and held her balance. The forked steel entered through both eye sockets and killed the wolf instantly. The first wolf had now recovered and was pressing an attack. Susan had time only to draw her weapon back and hope that she could position it well. The wolf was upon her and bit into her left shoulder, puncturing her flesh with its deadly teeth. She let out a blood curdling scream that echoed for miles through the surrounding farm lands. This sound was quickly met with a resigned howling that slowly faded off into whimpering. As she pushed the weight of the creature from her body she fled to the door, stopping just shy of freedom. Everything inside of her told her to run, to get as far away as she could as fast as possible, but instead of running she stopped and turned to face the wolf. It lay in a pile of hay, innards beginning to slowly leak out of its punctured belly, and looked up at her with eyes filled with fear and sadness. As Susan slowly walked back towards it there was mostly fear in those eyes and the wolf began to softly whimper again. She reached it and knelt down before it, at first afraid that it would lash out in a final act of desperation, but it didn't move and instead just stared at her with those wide, fearful eyes. She reached out and began to softly caress its cheek, smoothing out its fur down the neck and back. It was visibly calmer and peered up into Susan's eyes with a look of almost serene gratitude. She wasn't sure if a wolf could smile but she was almost certain that this one was. In a last burst of life it tried to crawl its way to its fallen companion and when it only made it halfway there before dying Susan burst into tears. She shed tears for her lost horses. She shed tears for the wolves' lost family. (she was almost certain they were a mommy and daddy wolf with little baby wolves back at the den.) She shed tears for her wounded shoulder and, most of all, for the beginning of the end of her childhood which she could almost see passing before her very eyes. How long she sat upon that floor and wept she could not say, but at some point her father came out and carried her upstairs to her room. He cleaned and dressed her wounds, working with a careful delicacy Susan could not have imagined him capable of. He had big, rough farmer's hands that reminded her of slabs of stone. They moved with the greatest of care and love and touched with a feather's weight. As he finished up she drifted off to sleep. The last thing she remembered before going out was her father kissing her upon her forehead and telling her that she was going to be okay. He promised her that everything was going to be fine. That was three months before it happened.[/INDENT]

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We can't cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live our lives in happiness.