In this blog from a person I consider a fellow writer, she asked our feedback on whether we’d keep reading after the first page. I liked that idea. It is important to know that the first part of a story pulls the attention of potential readers. For that reason, I present to you the prologue to my story titled Nivitera’s Promise. Opinions and feedback is much appreciated. Enjoy!
Note: I do not guarantee this will be the actual, final draft of the prologue but it is this so far.
Darkness lay draped across the landscape. A lonesome, blue moon hung in the sky; unaccompanied by its yellow counterpart. The moon was full; casting a bright blue glow across the landscape and painting the world in a sense of winter wonder. Snow glittered like diamonds as the moonlight caressed it. The silence of the night was deafening. Treetops of tall pines swayed about from the winter wind, yet made no sound for they held no leaves. No birds dared sit within the bare trees. The winter cold formed too great a hazard for any living thing.
However one mortal soul dared to venture. Through the snow treaded a lone wolf. His coat resembled the midnight sky; a near black with a hint of deep blue intertwined into his fur. Yet this was not the only shade of blue within the creature’s pelt. Ripples of icy blue engulfed his being; moving like waves across his body and wrapping him in an aura of pale hues. Equal in color was the wolf’s left eye. The identity of the right eye was unknown for it remained vastly closed for reasons still unknown.
As the creature strolled through the snow, the cold air rushed by his body. His fur lay flat and his ears lay back. His head remained low as he moved through the frozen crystals upon the earth. His paw prints trailed behind him as he moved onwards; his vast dedication pushing him to the very limits of his capabilities.
The wolf moved in a straight line; heading for what loomed above the horizon far ahead of him. Dark towers reached into the sky; attempting to brush against the distant suns that twinkled in the night sky; a blanket of deep blue.
The towers that the wolf’s eye beheld were those of the Cavantian palace where the ruler of the kingdom sat on her throne undisturbed. Yet he had vowed that this fake royal blood would spill greatly, even if it would cost him his own life.
As he moved through the glistening snow, his paws moved at an even trot while his tail swayed behind him from side to side. As he moved, one small object upon his right paw danced in unison with his body. Here he carried a ring of gold that laid wrapped around his toe. Upon this ring laid the symbol of a white star. The color of the star was equally pale as the snow but seemed blue due to the moonlight.
Yet to the magnificently breathtaking object, the wolf did not tend. He remained vast in achieving his goal. Bare trees moved on by as the wolf followed the trail he had dedicated himself to. As he ever so steadily approached his goal, he found the looming towers of the palace more intimidating. The very tips reached high enough to vanish and blend into the darkness above. Thus the true size of the colossal building could not be comprehended.
At one point the wolf halted. He found himself at the foot of a steep hill atop which sat the enormous stone palace. The wolf observed the building with his left eye; scanning the structure closely. When he was content, he bounded onwards. He sped silently and made his way up the hill with surprising ease. Upon arriving at the palace entrance, he found the door shut, as he had observed from the distance. So he dashed onwards, heading left towards a large window.
One would not think to attempt entering through this window for it lay up high. But the wolf held no hesitation. As he prepared himself to leap towards the window, the waves of blue upon his pelt increased in frequency; running ever faster across his body. Gusts of wind began to fling themselves around his body. Then the wolf ran and pushed himself into the air with his powerful legs. The strength of his own body and the wind that enveloped his entirety brought him high into the air and sent him straight towards the open window. The air whistled by his flat ears as he soared. Like a well-aimed arrow, he flew through the window. His paws extended forwards and he caught himself on all fours. He made several steps forward due to the impact of his extended leap. While he did so, the violent airflow around him subsided to their usual calm routine.
Then the wolf oriented himself. He glanced from side to side. His eye rolled about slowly to examine his surroundings while his nose sought for his goal. He found himself surrounded by grey walls; distorted only by the flicker of flames within wall-mounted torches. He judged the interior to be quite boring and senseless.
After he had redirected his attention to his goal, he dashed to his right to follow the scent that he had been following for the longest time now. Among the smell he followed, he also sensed several other scents. He identified them to be those of other humanoids that inhabited the building. Soldiers or guards he considered unlikely. The unjust ruler had no need for an army of flesh and blood. This was quite a challenge in many instances, however now the situation was deemed positive for the wolf.
Without tending to the nature of his surroundings, the wolf dashed through the castle; following but one trail. Doors that blocked his way he had no tolerance for. He brought them down with a leap that became enhanced by the winds surrounding his body. The force the air created made the wolf many times stronger than anyone would judge from his form. Though he looked powerful, his true power lay in finding allegiance with the wind.
As his paws swiftly carried him, the scent in the air became stronger. It burned within his nostrils and though the memories that accompanied this smell disgusted him, he dared not stop. Bloodshed he desired.
The hinges of the door clattered as the large wooden door cracked into pieces and swung inwards due to the force of the wolf’s leap towards it. Splinters and stray wood scattered about; covering the floor before the wolf in sharp edges. Several nails rolled about. Yet the wolf himself did not move. Only his eye rolled from side to side till he spotted his target.
At the far end of the room sat a lady upon a large chair. The fabric of the chair was elegantly decorated with elaborate patterns. The color of the throne outdid the attire of the woman who sat upon it. Her hair was a deep shade; black one would guess. Strands of violet randomly appeared within her hair; their intervals unidentified. Her large, grey eyes stared. The many shades within her irises blended about to create a stormy cloud within her very eyes. Her face was pale, however its hue was no match for the pale snow that lay beyond the walls of the palace. The woman’s lips were thin. Her mouth and entire face displayed an expression of seriousness. Her neck was wrapped with a choker with an imbedded jewel at the front. The woman’s bare shoulders were covered with several strands of her hair. They curled about at the tips and created a nearly playful look. Sleeves started at her upper arms and ran all the way down to her wrists. The fabric lay tightly around her body; fully displaying the shape of her limbs. The sleeves were a dark grey. Some might consider the color black. A sweetheart neckline introduced the tunic that the woman wore. This particular fabric reached to her hips where it lay against her body undisturbed. The piece was grey; a lighter shade than her sleeves yet still dark enough to be considered a sinister color. Beneath this, the woman wore a tight black legging that once more exposed the nature of her limbs. Her long legs reached down into boots that started at her ankle. The shoes held a heel and the toes were pointed and sharp.
Yet all these features were hardly worth noting. What one would most likely observe about this woman would be the metal chain around her waist that lay rested upon her wide hips. Connected to this belt were many small knives. Some held the purpose of being thrown while others could be held to be used in combat. Besides these weapons, the woman carried two blades upon her back.
Though her blades were sharp, the eyes of this woman were likewise piercing. She gazed upon the being that had so rudely introduced himself into her presence. The two exchanged looks for a second before one of them dared to move.
It was the wolf who then adjusted his limbs and paced inwards. He stepped beyond the wood and the nails and moved forwards towards the woman. His eye was unblinking and he kept it upon the woman before him. This was the one who had left the scent. This was the target he had longed to behold. This body was one he wished to see bleed and suffer.
Several meters from her, he halted and then blinked once. Steadily he curled up his lips and exposed his jaws. The whiteness of his fangs glittered within the dark of his pelt. Then he moved them and he spoke. His voice was deep. The sound produced resembled that of one whom had experienced much and had endured these experiences due to a deep hatred he felt. This was true. In his heart, the wolf despised this woman. The feelings he knew so well now flowed into his words as he slowly spoke the woman’s name, “Licia.” The word was but a murmur but it rang clear within his ears and hers alike.
The woman raised but an eyebrow. She uncrossed the legs she had held crossed earlier. The left had lain across the right yet now they stood side by side. Her heel had made a soft clicking noise as it had made contact with the flooring. “And whom might you be?” she addressed the wolf. Licia’s voice was sweet and soft. One could declare her innocent due to such a soft sound.
The wolf blinked once more. Then he asked her, “You ask the name of your murderer?”
Then Licia tilted her head and a small smile pulled at the corners of her lips. “There is that chance.” she simply answered. Then she released a laugh; a gentle but cold giggle that rang throughout the chamber. Yet the sound ended abruptly as her eyes rolled about and detected an object she hadn’t expected to see.
She waved her hand in a circle. “My, my.” she hummed then. “I did not think to find an audience with such a figure such as yourself.” she pronounced.
The wolf growled, “My status has little to do with my goal. I may be the king of the Wind Warriors; a son of wind controlling wolves, yet you may still die to my claws.”
For a moment Licia smiled before she rose from where she had sat. “You amuse me.” she simply stated. “As do many of your brethren. I have known one. He was a friend many ages ago. A kind soul…” she explained.
Still the wolf growled. He replied to her, “How a wretched being such as you made a friend is a mysterious happening; likewise is the occurrence that you obtained Vi’s favor.”
“Mhm.” hummed Licia. “You object?” she asked then.
The wolf did not answer her. He simply gazed at her and began to pace closer to her. His head he lowered and his ears he pushed back.
Licia understood his gestures. “Hmpf.” she sniffed before swiftly moving her left hand to reach to the two swords upon her back and holding both in but one hand. “You challenge destiny, I see. We shall indulge then.” she proclaimed.
The winds about the wolf’s body erupted then as he prepared to engage in battle with her. A whistling sound appeared within his ears as the winds lashed and whipped about. The growl in his throat kept rolling. Yet they seemed to freeze then as he closed his left eye and focused for a single moment. Then as he prepared to reopen it, the right eyelid joined. Behind the lid lay an icy blue entity that was without a pupil. It seemed to stare into nothingness. Yet upon the eye opening, the winds about the wolf’s body became larger and stronger. “Well then.” he simply stated. Then the two engaged in battle. That night indeed blood was shed. But the crimson pool that spilled belonged to one and one alone.