Prologue: An Existential Juxtaposition

This prologue juxtaposes the birth of a primary character with a death that greatly affects the future.

          “You here to check the Rain Dragon's records?” one doctor asked as the other approached.

         “Yeah,” replied the other as he lifted a page on his clipboard, “what's his name?”

         “Kōryō.”

         “Kōryō or Kōryu?”

         “Kōryō.”

         “That’s weird.”

         “Yeah, and it’s the most normal thing about the kid. They tell you his natal Joule Grade?” he asked, lightly slapping his colleague's arm.

         “No, what?” the colleague replied with an indignantly furrowed brow, his hand gripping his elbow for a moment.

         “Just guess.”

         “Judging by how you’re acting, it’s either really high or really low.”

         “So guess.”

         The colleague released an annoyed sigh and said, “I’ll go low, I suppose. 130 Nanojoules?”

         “Higher.”
         “140?”

         “He's a Rain Dragon," he said with a sarcastic facial expression. "Why would you start low?”

         “Almost every Dragonoid falls between 150 and 175 at birth," the colleague responded as he swung his arms out wide, implicative of irritation, and slowly turned toward the other doctor with two deliberated yet small steps. "Are you telling me he was born with something higher?”

         “Being human doesn't get you a pass on not knowing this stuff; you live in Tatsu. Assimilate already. You remember what they said Lord Ryūjin’s natal JG was?”

         “Sheesh, like 182?”

         “192.”

         “Wow, and this kid’s that high?”

         “This kid’s JG isn’t even comparable to that. It’s so high that he makes fully grown warriors look weak.”

         “Just tell me for cryin' out loud,” the colleague said as he shook his two fists in front of his face.

         “One Microjoule.”

         “Mi- He’s micro-grade?!"

         "Was micro-grade. We're talking about his birth, remember? So, this is like... Why am I counting when I could read the chart? Fifteen years ago."

         "Impossible!" the colleague exclaimed. He simply stared at the other doctor for a moment before saying, "The irons must have been aimed wrong or something.”

          “There was nothing else to aim at but the kid. The iron sand all tilted to one side at once, which let Dr. Naryū know that he needed more sand to even measure it; mind you, he had enough in there to measure up to 200nJ, so he knew it would be something crazy. Law says kill Rain Dragons at birth, and he made the mistake of letting Shugoryū look at the sand scanner with him. No one ever thinks they'll be the one to deliver a Rain Dragon in their lifetime. You imagine what went through his head when he saw the number with Shugoryū looking over his shoulder like that?”

         "I doubt he knew Shugoryū would overreact like that," the colleague said, shaking his head. "He's so even tempered. That's probably why it took the Thieves' Guild fifteen years to crack this case."

         "Please," the doctor said as he waved his hand at his colleague dismissively. "A guy like him? Shugoryū just looks like a murderer."

         In a prehistoric age--all geological or written record of which erased by nature's climactic end to the age itself--the world was simultaneously more primitive and more advanced than it would ever be in the epochs to come. All the bodies of land to which twenty-first century historians refer as “continents” were one in the same; there was but one ocean and one land, the latter currently known to modern Geologists as Pangæa. The Jewel Age saw the rise of innumerable kingdoms, each comprised of several provinces, and the allegedly mightiest kingdom found itself at wit’s end as it attempted to maintain its portrayal of strength through the death of its previous king and the anointing of his son, Alexander.
         Unbeknownst to King Alexander or his council of advisors as the departing sun pulled in the darkness of night, thieves were also pulled in as though espoused to the night, infiltrating at a pace slow enough to remain just outside the sun’s reach yet swift enough to evade security. They sought refuge in shadows and remained focused on their target, moving with such expert stealth as to never be seen despite the festivities in the streets that celebrated the anointing of the new king. They soon reached an elaborate fort where intelligence suggested they would find their target making his rounds. The fort was actually a brick, three-story building, and like all forts, it served as one of several headquarters for the military’s defense. On the top floor, General Cassius sat in his office drafting a report to the king’s military advisor. His hand wrote feverishly as he rushed through the words, ink gliding to and fro. Unexpectedly, he heard the office window open behind him. He immediately spun around in his swivel chair to face the window and stood to his feet in one swift motion; two shadows then flew through the air beyond him to land on the opposite side of his desk while a third perched on the windowsill.

         Cassius unsheathed his sword as quickly as he could, yet simultaneously, the thief shot a zip-line up to the ceiling directly above Cassius’s head; consequently, when Cassius struck vertically, bringing his blade down in an attempt to slice right through the perched bandit, his eyes watched his target dive into the office, bypassing his sword's strike and gliding by his right shoulder while clinging to that accursed zip-line, which caused the elusive thief to swing widely around the ambushed general, running three steps along the wall as the rope gradually reeled him higher and higher. When Cassius turned to face his assailants, two dark figures in black cloaks stood before his desk menacingly as the third crouched upside down on the ceiling above them. “Thieves!” Cassius anxiously exclaimed.

         Not every run-of-the-mill brigand in the Jewel Age was a thief. The term "thief" was the title of a military rank specializing in infiltration, spying, sabotage, purloining, assassination, abduction, arson, bribery, and even spreading political propaganda.

         “Are you General Cassius, the Macedonian Minister of Defense?” asked the thief on the ceiling in a digitally altered voice. Not only could their faces not be seen, but also their voices were masked via sound modification technology, devices worn around the neck like chokers or dog collars.

         “Who’s asking?” Cassius answered angrily as his right hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his thumb raising a small knob up several notches. The blade of the sword began to hum softly, which would seem like nothing to the ignorant, but the thieves recognized it as preparation for combat. Warriors of the Jewel Age wore complex armors with corresponding swords, and the two were synchronized via radio frequency while maintaining physical contact. Armors typically had one or two tiny switches or buttons meant to trade hardness for weight, meaning that one could decrease the weight of a heavy armor at the risk of being vulnerable due to its softened state and vice versa, and the exchange of mass and hardness was a level of alloy manipulation made possible when man managed to create circuits that channeled dynamic alchemy, which was an energy like electricity that would never be rediscovered after the Jewel Age; however, dynamic alchemy was not to be confused with Alchemy, the science. General Cassius’s sword had a vibration function, which was a relatively common customization. The purpose of vibration was to greatly increase the sharpness of its cuts due to its incalculable rapidity, and a sword could also transfer its weight to its corresponding armor via alchemy, which was an excellent feature for warriors like Cassius and Alexander whose swords were quite large and, thus, very heavy. The technology of the Jewel Age blatantly scoffed at many a physical law.

         “Give us the Tigon Set.”

         “That’s it? You attack me for an armor and its sword?”

         “We know of the data hidden within the set’s memory.”

         “Figures. You’re just looking for the Oracle. The Tigon Set belonged to King Alexander the Second, and he has taken it to the grave.”

         “Then, you will take us to his burial grounds and retrieve his body.”

         Rather than justify the final command with a response, General Cassius inhaled deeply and attacked. He leapt forward, his left foot landing atop his desk, and launched up toward the thief on the ceiling. The two grounded thieves dashed swiftly to the left and right walls as the third dropped to the floor, narrowly escaping Cassius’s blade which effortlessly sawed through the ceiling in an instant like a hot knife through butter. On his way down, Cassius instinctively turned a dial on his left hip with his free hand to transfer some of his armor’s weight to his sword, making the blade much heavier. He came straight down sword-first in a vertical slash just after the thief had landed, and the blade still vibrated rapidly; therefore, the sharpness compounded with the weight that pulled the sword down so quickly, so it was no surprise that the thief failed to completely dodge the strike in an insufficient strafe to his right. Cassius’s sword cut straight through the thief’s left forearm and sawed his left foot in half, releasing mass amounts of blood on the carpeted floor.

         The thief wailed in agony as he fell to the floor; however, the vocal modulator was also purposed with capping the maximum volume of any audible output, so rather than being louder than his normal speaking voice, it sounded merely as though he said, “Ahhh,” like a parent trying to get his child to open his mouth for food, except that the sound was also accompanied by thick static, the thickness being directly proportionate to the loudness that had been substituted. The other two thieves threw knives at Cassius, which stabbed into both of his shoulders through his armor due to the fact that he had diminished the hardness thereof for the sake of his strike. Then, one of them tossed a beeping sphere the size of a golf ball to the floor, which spontaneously detonated and released smoke throughout the office, and a thief’s eyes began to glow and hum with a sound similar to that of Cassius’s sword. Cassius was enshrouded and blinded, and he dropped his sword due primarily to the strain of its weight on his wounded shoulder. Literally before he knew it, he had been slain at knifepoint.

Author's Note

In a prologue, the objective is to peak interest while setting up the launch of the story, so how did I do?

Reviews

[Joshua]

Your author's note mentions that the goal in this is to create interest, and I'd say you were successful here, certainly at least to the point where I would like to know what happens next, and I intend to read more of this in a little while. The large size of the text honestly made it somewhat difficult to read, but that's just my personal preference as I'm far more used to reading smaller print.

Something, though, that I feel could do with quite a bit of revising: The dialogue at the beginning of the passage. It seems very choppy and uncut by action; talking between the characters certainly adds to the story, but (in my opinion) it ought to also be accompanied by some action. As they are saying these things, what are the doctors doing? If they're really just standing still, you could also describe their posture and their body language, which would be a great way to indicate what the doctors are thinking; something most readers will probably really want to know.

I give a solid 81/100.

[Cedric D. Jr.]

Hey, thanks for the advice. I know what you mean about the text; that was unintentional, and I haven't been able to fix it due to a weird error on this chapter. Chapter 1 has a more mild case of it, too.

I'm familiar with what you're talking about regarding the actions of the characters engaged in dialogue. I neglect that sort of thing sometimes, and this was one of those times. At any rate, I think I'll add a few things in there to deal with that.

Thanks again for the review. I'll be sure to return the favor soon.

[AJJordan]

Interesting premise for a story. I like the idea there used to be an advanced civilization in ancient, primordial earth. I also like the amalgamation of sci-fi & fantasy: satisfying both my cravings in one sitting.

Saying that, I don't like the structure of this prologue. I realize this is a work in progress and I have read the other reviews and your answers to them, but all I can do is report on my own feelings after reading what is currently posted here, in its current state.

The conversation between the doctors contains some fascinating information about who I assume is Alexander, the new King. It also gives a glimpse into the technology of this era. I just don't think it belongs here in a prologue. The main gist of the conversation is Alexander's off-the-charts Natal Joule Grade, so why not mention this when introducing and building the character of Alexander? Also, they mention Shugoryū, but I have no idea who this is or why it is important that he was looking over the doctors shoulder, or why he didn't kill the child - or so I understood it. And what was Shugoryū's reaction? I'm sorry, but rather then setting the scene or a flavor for the book, all this did was leave me scratching my head. I felt like I had intruded on only a part of a conversation, and am left wondering what I had missed while desperately trying to catch up.

The information about where this era is set, the timeline, the technologies used, THIS is the prologue, in my humble opinion. THIS is the part that sets the scene. If you expanded on the civilization and geography a bit more, this prologue would be complete.

The next part about the General and his attackers should be, as mentioned, a chapter or part of a chapter, rather then part of the prologue. As for this scene, even though I loved the creativeness and description of the technologies involved with the armor etc, I found it incredibly distracting having all the particulars explained while in the middle of a fight scene! The movement of the characters was well described, but, as it IS a fight scene, I think the momentum of the narrative needs an increase of tempo. Long, descriptive sentences do not make for a fast tempo. Short, sharp sentences that are to the point increase the tempo.

"The general attacked. He leapt forward. Pushing off the desk, he launched upward. The thieves scattered. One dashed left, the other right. The middle one dropped straight down. The blade cut the space the thief had just departed."

This is just a rough example, of course. Short, sharp sentences get the blood flowing...much like sword thrusts. Personally I never see the point of some Bruce Lee-type waving of swords and weapons in the air in some clearly choreographed and impressive display. You want the guy dead? Walk up and stab him in the guts. Simple.

[Cedric D. Jr.]

Well, the bulk of your confusion stems from missing the topic of that opening conversation. It's important that you know that the two doctors were talking about a kid named Koryo whose name is the first thing they discuss. It was my intention to ensure that this is understood because I knew that, barring this information, much of the rest would be indiscernible, so I gave them a little back-and-forth on the pronunciation of his name to drum in the fact that it's not Alexander or anyone else for that matter. You're not supposed to know what Shugoryu's reaction was just by reading the prologue either, nor should you know why he "overreacted" in the first place. That information is given in the next chapter. In fact, you take what you learn here and use it to fill in the holes of Chapter 1's mention of the issue, which will be thoroughly reinforced and elaborated in Chapter 2.

The setting (geography, timeline, and technology) is something on which I must expound gradually throughout the book because it would steal from greater surprises later.

You may have a point about my writing style of choice during the fight scene. I tend to write with very lengthy statements, and perhaps, it cost me in that scene. I think I'll try to refine that a bit more because I like the gist of your revision, but it IS best set in the prologue on account of its end result being the only aspect thereof that remains pertinent to the start of the actual story.

[AJJordan]

“Kōryō.”
“Kōryō or Kōryu?”
“Kōryō.”
“That’s weird.”

I have no idea why I forgot about this. I remember actually trying to pronounce this name out loud a few times when I started reading...but then by the time I started the review, for some reason my brain was convinced it was the future king they were talking about.

My bad...lol

[Arutha]

I love the action in this. The way the "shadows" enter the room is intriguing, and the fight itself was pretty heart-racing. I totally love how both of our stories start with a guy chilling in his study, before he gets barged in on and everything goes to hell in a hand basket. I was also really intrigued by some of your ideas for the technologies employed by both the assassins and by Cassius. It's some pretty creative stuff!

Okay, so the rest of this is whatever caught my eye as I read. Hope some of it helps!

"All the bodies of land to which A.D.E. historians refer as “continents” were one in the same; there is but one ocean and one land, and modern Geology textbooks would call the latter Pangæa." You've got "were" "is" and "would call" in here which are all different tenses. It makes it a bit of a tough read.

"The allegedly mightiest kingdom currently found itself..." Another tense issue: You've got "currently" and "found" which are at odds. I would just take out "currently."

"Unbeknownst to King Alexander or his council of advisors, the sun’s departure from the sky that day would pull thieves in by night..." I like the elegance of the idea you present here, but the "day" and "night" cause hiccups in the flow of the narration. Maybe just, "... advisors, the setting of the sun would prove an open invitation to thieves by night." or something

"...moving in such expert stealth..." should be "with" instead of "in."

"...swift motion, and two shadows flew..." Here you've already used "and" so maybe "as" instead.

The whole bit with the zip-line and the guy on the window sill is a bit hard to swallow. I mean, I think you're saying that, in the time it took Cassius to bring the sword down, the assassin had somehow managed to get the zip-line anchored into the ceiling and swing out of the way. Also, there's the fact that anywhere far enough behind Cassius would be seemingly too severe of an angle to do anything but glance off the ceiling. Also, there's the fact that when he swung out, I have trouble seeing enough space between him and Cassius to actually get into the room. These aren't things that necessarily kill the action, but just things that I would recommend better explaining to the reader. Also, the "(Cassius' right)" bit shouldn't be necessary if the action is explained well enough to the reader.

"The fear that thieves instilled in the Jewel Age was resultant of the fact that they were so much more than just thieves." I would skirt around this a little more, let it flow within the narrative. "The Jewel Age was a time of fear for the great majority. Thieves were no longer simply pickpockets, roaming about the streets in search for a fat purse to cut. No, they had become something more sinister..." or something.

Generally, in keeping with the previous suggestion, while your writing style is great, I feel like you're telling the reader a lot of information that would feel more real if it came out as the life blood of the plot instead in what feels more like dictation.

"...his sword tightly, its thumb raising..." Did you mean "his" thumb?

I'm not sure if you're leaning more sci-fi on this, but it might be cool to name all of these technologies you're describing. The humming blade, the shifting armor, etc. Additionally, explain to the reader how these technologies fly in the face of physics. That's going to be a very tough thing to get by an affluent reader without an excellent explanation, in my opinion.

"'Then, give us the location of his burial grounds.'" Seemed odd that they would just assume he was telling the truth.

"...dashed precipitously..." You might get away with using "precipitously" like that, but I would suggest getting another opinion (one more knowledgeable than I am, lol). That tends to refer to an object that is, itself rising "precipitously," such as a precipice or the line on a bar graph.

"...on his left hip with his left hand..." In my opinion, it's not always necessary to be quite so granular in your descriptions. It almost feels like the narration is being controlled. All I really need to know, as a reader, is that he turned the dial at his hip with his free hand. That is DEFINITELY, majorly subjective, though ;-P

I like that bit about the modulator. That's pretty creative, and it totally makes sense. I actually never thought about that, but how cool would it be if an assassin was equipped with a full brace of technologies that would prevent any of his instinctive reactions from compromising his position? Sneezes (or screams), twitches, sneezes out the other end (if you catch my drift), tummy rumbles... so I guess noise is the primary offender the more I think about it. Ooh, itches! Maybe a suit could be tied with your brain function to scratch you, lol.

Anyway, I think this is going to be an awesome story. I love the combination of sci-fi and fantasy that I'm getting. I also like how you've pulled in real elements and tied them with your fantastic portrayal of the world. (Totally used to watch "Reign: The Conquerer" by the way).

[Cedric D. Jr.]

Tell me "Reign: The Conqueror" wasn't awesome!

Yeah, you make some strong points, so I'm going to go ahead and tweak a lot of those things. I was already considering a couple of those changes and am now convinced due to your confirmation. Also, of course, when I read the opening to your story, I felt the same way about the similarity. Great minds...

[AJJordan]

"...dashed precipitously..." When used in this context, I envision the person as being on a knifes edge, precariously balanced, with each step about to be his last...but then I'm no grammar doctor either, so who knows /shrugs

[Cedric D. Jr.]

Well, he is right. By definition, that adverb denotes speed but with a directional connotation that I sort of ignored. Having been called on it, I was no longer at peace with leaving it there. I felt like a kid who got in trouble for doing something he knew better than to do.

[JR Darewood]

You have some serious strengths. You do a great job with dialogue. Really great. It's witty, and it has a nice rhythm to it-- it's very enjoyable to read. You're also a very visual writer, you've choreographed all the moments in your head an you paint them like a picture. As an occasional filmmaker, i imagine you'd make a great director of photography-- I imagined the image of the three thieves, one on the ceiling, like a slide in a manga.

I also really live the premise, a post-apocalyptic future mixing magic and technology... love the swords and Dune-like armor (have you read Herbert? cuz if you' haven't you'd love it), love the voice modulators on dudes dressed like old-school ninja thieves. The recycling of the ancient into the futuristic (Pangea, Noah's Flood, Alexander of Macedon) is awesome, and your ideas are rich, but I kinda feel like you could have drawn out those reveals more-- they're so rich! I mean the mention of Pangea in a conversation or Noah's Flood will leave the reader curious for chapters about what the backstory of the world is... and then you could drop it in, piece by piece later.

I was also curious about your writing style-- i can get inside your characters heads but its usually by way of external description, you also favor expository narration-- we don't get inside your characters thoughts and emotions directly very often. It's a rare approach; i'm wondering why you chose that route.

[Cedric D. Jr.]

Thanks for the feedback! You probably hit the nail on the head about my favoring expository narration, but I think it's more of a Prologue thing. In subsequent chapters, it should feel more organic to you, but I did definitely struggle with that in this chapter; moreover, it really wasn't my intention to be quite that overt in the conveyance of characters' personalities. On the other hand, the following chapters rapidly unfold these characters such that what you learn of them in the prologue is just the tip of the iceberg. I say that to point out that I may be rushing the setup of the foundations for these characters so that I can build on them at as fast a pace as the next chapters do. I know for a fact, though, that your comment was all I needed to decide that I'm going to replace a specific portion of narrative with dialogue between Theodore and Alexander. Readers get less time with Theodore in the next few chapters because Alexander takes a trip, and the story pretty much goes with him; consequently, I was thinking and am now positive that I rushed the establishment of Theodore's character.

As for the references to Pangæa, Noah's Flood, and Alexander the Great, they actually won't play any role in the rest of the story. I use them in the prologue to make it easier to establish the setting of the story; that combination of references gives you the picture I want, but the characters are not aware that the world's only continent is called Pangæa. That's something historians will establish when they're long gone, and the story will end long before the flood, too; furthermore, no one knows that there will be a post-flood Alexander the Great or a second Macedon to fulfill the blessing that the angel bestowed upon the first Alexander and Macedon. Granted, it might still be better to let that revelation smack reader's in the face, but I was initially inclined to establish that early so that people wouldn't be making the Alexander-Macedon connection and asking, "Why does he think that all occurred before the flood?" or saying, "This doesn't make sense; the world wasn't even like this in Alexander the Great's time." I wanted to make sure people knew it was a different Alexander basically and that mine preceded the one historians documented and was responsible (in part) for his name as well as the name of the documented kingdom. God raised a new Macedon render the angel's misused blessing useless while still upholding it so that His name was not attached to an unfulfilled promise.

[JR Darewood]

instead of staring off with 15 years ago, you could start off with a reference to the date (like 13,000AD or 27 ANF (After Noah's Flood) either as a subtitle or in some kind of scientific log, that would let the reader know off the bat you're not setting this in Ancient Greece. You could also end the prologue after the General's death, setting the remainder in the first chapter, giving you more time to do some exposition in dialogue. You don't even need to go into it necessarily, you could just make offhand comments to the most gifted dragonoid in all of Pangea or something.

[Cedric D. Jr.]

That's true. The "15 years ago" line is kind of a weak start. I'm going to change that, too. Remember, though, it's before the flood. My reservations about ending after the death of Cassius stem from chapters 1 and 2 being pretty packed. I mean, the idea does make sense, but chapter 1 introduces the primary plot, and the things that occur in the prologue are really secondary issues. I do want to end the prologue more strongly, though, rather than with more expository narrative. I'm going to give it more thought in the morning, but several of these things will be shifted for a revised copy.

[JR Darewood]

well I was thinking that the second half of the prologue could be its own chapter, not add it to the existing chapters 1 and 2. Do they know the flood is coming?

[Cedric D. Jr.]

Having slept on it, I like the idea to separate that second half into its own chapter actually. I think I will go that route, and no, they don't know the flood is coming. Unless I end up changing my mind on something, the flood's role will remain only to explain why history knows nothing of the Jewel Age.