First Fall

Protagonist awakens with no memory and meets Darren, leader of what he calls "the Resistance against the Dark God"

 

As a storm rages around me, I fall to my death. A thin line of blue energy travels from my forehead into the hand of a hooded man standing atop a black tower. The sheer height of it is unbelievable. As I fall, I can barely see the quickly advancing ground far below. I turn in the air and see the man holding out his hand as though waving goodbye. I cannot see much of him, but I can somehow sense malice radiating off of him. The reason escapes me, but I feel a complete sense of hatred for him. I scream at the top of my lungs, “I will kill you!” as I continue to fall. The top of the tower and the man in the hood fade away until eventually, I crash into the earth.

      

ɂɂɂ

 

Above me, black clouds circle and twist unnaturally in the sky. I look around at the crater I have fallen into. Or, did my fall create it? The sky looks darker than it should be. I can barely see a thing, as though it is nighttime. My head hurts, as does the rest of me. I can no longer see the top of the tower, but it stands above me ominously. A thin blue rod impales itself into the ground next to me, narrowly missing my head. I wonder about how I have survived the fall as my vision fades to black.

When I awake, I feel a raggedy yet comfortable bed cradling my aching body. I close my eyes but sense something and open them. Above me stands a young man. I yelp at the sight of him and instinctively jump back in bed a bit. Soreness prevents me from moving further, and makes me regret the decision to move at all. I look at him again, his expression has not changed. Curious and somewhat excited.

 He is young, perhaps sixteen, maybe seventeen; he has spiky blond hair and wide eyes the color of emerald. He is skinny but he looks strong. Wiry, I think the word is. He has on a strange blend of armor and…other clothes, strange looking ones comprised of a tunic with long sleeves, and strange blue bottoms. His arms are folded behind him, so I cannot tell whether or not he has a weapon. On his face is a smile so wide, it seems ready to split in two.

How long has he been there? Who is he, and what does he want? Does he wish me harm? Wait, where exactly, or better yet, who exactly, am I?

“Morning!” He greets me cheerfully. “Jeez, you’ve been asleep for like two days. We tried everything to wake you up. That’s why you’re bed’s wet, tried an ice-cold bucket of water to the face this morning. At least, I think it was morning, no sense of time down here. Anyway, it didn’t work. We’ve also tried slapping you, smelling salts, loud noises, everything in the book but nothing from ya’. Now you’re finally awake out of the blue; it’s amazing! There was actually a bet started on whether or not you would ever wake up. Looks like I won the pot.”

While he speaks I settle back into my previous position. The look on my face only grows in confusion as he continues.

“Frankly I can’t believe you’re even alive, looked to us like you fell from the top of the Dark Tower. That thing’s gotta be like a thousand stories, and not a scratch on you. A lot of the guys wanted to kill you because they think you’re a monster or some other type of bad omen, but I talked them out of it. I got a good feeling about you; I’m clairvoyant, ya’ see. Can’t see specifics, but I get feelings, like, I know you’re gonna be really important to the Resistance. Which is great because we need more people. But hear me ramble. ‘Ya hungry? Probably, from the look of you, I’d say you’re starving.”

I can barely follow him; not only because more than half of the things he says make no sense, but he speaks so quickly, I can hardly understand his words.

“Um, hungry?” I say, responding to the only thing that makes sense to me. My voice is raspy. As though it had been a long while since it had been used. “Yes, I suppose. Will you tell me who you are?”

“Name’s Darren. Welcome to the Fox-Hole.” He says. I look around the room, it is not much; nothing but a dresser with a cracked mirror above it, a small closet, and the beaten up but comfortable bed I now rest on. A curtained-off window offers a look outside, but little light filters through it, giving me the impression that it is nighttime.

“So, the Fox-Hole, whatever that means. You said you saved me, do you know who I am?” I ask. It seems a fair question. Why would he save me if he did not know me?

“No idea.” He replies, dashing that hope. “Never seen you before. Mind telling me your name?” I get the sense he is going to be of little help.

“You do not know me?”

“Nope.” He continues smiling.

 “I find that upsetting.” I tell him.

“Don’t worry about it too much.”

“What is the Fox-Hole?” I ask.

He smiles strangely, “Come on, I’ll show you, there’s a change of clothes for you in the closet.” He tosses me a towel and opens the door.

“Hey wait!” I call as something occurs to me.

“What’s up?”

“How…how long were you standing there?”

“About five minutes. Don’t take long, I’ll meet you downstairs.” He answers as he turns and walks out the door.

I lay back down and wonder about what is going on. Where is this place? I try to sit up again, but pain slows my ascent. I swing my legs out from under the blanket, and find them damp. I remove the blanket entirely and see a large wet spot around most of me.

“He was not lying.” I say, my voice still scraping its way through my throat. “They actually poured water on me.” I swing my legs over the bed and set them gently on the floor so as to study them. They are long and have minimal hair. I bend forward and draw in a shaky breath. Strands of hair fall in my face and as soon as I notice them I grab hold and pull them further down. It reaches down past my chin and shines in the dim light. What startles me, however, is the striking white hue. I release it and my hands go immediately to the rest of my head. The hair is long and thick. I reach down to my face and feel soft skin, with no wrinkles.

An energy flows through me that propels me to the mirror. Fortunately, I am not an old man. In fact, I look rather young, hardly even a man. My eyes are a brilliant blue shade with a burst of white swimming through them from the pupils. Striking and at the same time slightly unsettling. An unnatural pallor coats my skin, almost grey in sheen. I look down at my shirtless torso and see the body of a formerly strong young man adorned with muscular abs, chest, and arms.

I flex my arms, feeling how strong they are. Surely I possess a great might, despite my fatigue. I am muscular, but I am also quite thin. My build is small and lithe. As Darren said, I look as though I have not eaten in a long while. My stomach rumbles, affirming this.

Another look at my face discomforts me, but I do not look away. I find the idea unsettling that I do not know the person that stares back at me. After studying it I try to determine whether or not I am good looking. Frankly, I am unsure.

Quickly I grow sick of looking at myself and go to the closet. I struggle with the door’s rusted hinges while I push it open. My sight is immediately drawn to the floor, where I see a pair of enclosing sandals that appear to be armored.

I pull these out and study them, they are black, but for the armor, which appears to be made of iron. How I know it is iron I am unsure, but it is undeniably that. I set these down and turn back to the closet. The next thing I find is a pair of baggy black leg wear. I slip these on and find them very liberating. The cloth is comfortable, soft and cool. Oddly though, the three-inch portion just below the knee, where it meets the sandals, hugs my skin tightly. It does not lessen the comfort, but I find it strange. Perhaps to prevent billowing?

A skintight black tunic clings to my grey skin, offering slight warmth and a surprising amount of comfort. A six inch piece of iron is sewn into the shirt over the right breast. And two more pieces cover each shoulder. The fabric around the abdomen is hardened, likely to protect the belly and lower back from harm. Next I find long black gloves. A curious addition to the outfit, but I do not object and slide them on. They end halfway up my forearms and have small bits of iron covering the back of the hands. The top part of the forearm is covered in hardened fabric like the abdomen. My fingers remain bare, with nothing to cover them. For what purpose I cannot imagine.  

“There is a lot of black, is this an Underworld cult or something? Wait, what did I just say?” I mutter. That was strange, what did I say? I shrug it off and make my way out of the room. Hopefully Darren is not one to get impatient.

When I exit the room I find myself in a long hallway. Looking down both ways, I see several other doors, all probably leading into rooms like the one I just emerged from. Where the flickering light is coming from I cannot guess. There are no torches or other light sources that I can see. Dull pain starts to throb through my skull from the incessant blinking. I focus on it and the entire hallway becomes brighter for a few seconds. This makes me happy until a small explosion tears around inside my head and the light goes off entirely. I stumble through the now pitch-black hallway, trying to find some kind of exit.

I cannot tell where I am in the hallway until empty space appears out of nowhere beneath my feet. I slide down a couple steps before I manage to stop my abrupt descent. Hesitantly I take a few more steps and then realize that I am standing on a staircase. Quickly I reach the bottom and am greeted with a pleasantly steady light. However, this hallway is occupied by several young men.

One of them, a dark haired teenager, turns to me with a look of confusion on his face.

“You the new guy?” He asks.

“I…” His question confuses me. New guy? My voice is growing smoother with use, the raspiness and pain subsiding. “I am not sure.”

“Who are you?” He demands, his confusion changing to anger that leaves me the confused one.

“I…I do not know.”

“Don’t.” He attempts to correct me. I shrug and he shakes his head. “Whatever, what are you doing here?”

“I just woke up here.” I answer. “May I ask you something?”

“What?” He responds with venom in his voice.

“How old do I look to you?”

The boy chuckles for a few moments before seeing my question is serious. “Oh, uh, I dunno. Sixteen, maybe seventeen?”

“Oh.” That was my feeling as well, but I wanted another opinion.

“Are you alright?” He asks, coming closer to me. He loses the look of coldness for one of concern. “You look a little lost.”

“Hey, what are you doing James?” One of the others asks. “Don’t waste your time on the noob.”

“Quiet, Gary.” James chides him, “Darren wants him here, we should respect that.”

“Darren’s a hopeless optimist.” The one called Gary retorts.

“Yeah, but he’s our leader.” He turns back to me and looks me up and down, “Sorry about that, for me too. So what’s up?”

I raise my eyes to the ceiling, but seeing nothing I shrug off the nonsensical inquiry. “I am not sure where I am. Or what is happening.”

“Yeah, you’ll wanna go see Darren. If you are the new guy, he’s waiting for you outside.”

“Outside?”

“The building I mean. Just go down the stairs and when you reach the bottom, go straight until you find a set of double doors. Go through them and Darren should be there.”

“Thank you.” I say to him.

“No problem.” He says. I look at the others, seven in total, but most of them greet my gaze with a frosty countenance.

I nod and turn back to the staircase, looking down at about four floors. I follow the boy’s instructions until I find the glass double doors he mentioned. What am I about to see? I push through them and gasp, I actually gasp. I look up to see a huge ceiling far above my head, made entirely of rock. Is… is this is a cave? I look down and around to see that this is in fact a colossal cave.

The area is not unlike a small town with various buildings and streets going off in many directions. It is difficult to judge, but I think it is perhaps one and a half miles across. This is clearly a cave; I can almost feel the tons and tons of rock above my head. I get a feeling of queasiness at the idea of being down so low, where darkness is prevalent, but the feeling passes as a new feeling of pain burns within my skull.

I see people almost everywhere, none of them much older than I. Most of them are wandering about, heading to destinations far away. I see a few people sitting around doing nothing but talking (about what I cannot guess). For a while, I catch a good number of them glancing at me. The look on their faces…distrust? Or is it fear? Apprehension?

I turn around and look up. Stretched above me is a building decorated with windows and terraces. It is made out of red stone, but still looks as though it is about to come apart on its own. About halfway up the building, I see a statue of a man in armor, weapons in his hands and on his back. Something stirs within me at the sight of it. It sends a shockwave through the emptiness in my head.

Quickly I turn around and take another look at the people behind me. They are all wearing black clothing similar to mine. The boys are all wearing bottoms as I am. The girls, however, all wear skirts over thinner versions of the same pants. Why the difference, though there is hardly any, but why?

Even so, it is all worn and in a pitiful state. The only part that looks alright is the armor, which appears to be brand-new. However, even new, I can somehow tell that it is not professionally made. Whatever smith made the armor was probably an apprentice, surely no master.

I tap my own armor, feeling its durability. It clangs the way it should, but something about it seems off. There are small pieces covering each gloved knuckle, to check them, I punch the stone wall with all my might. To my surprise, the brick cracks. I shake my hand on instinct, but then realize that there is no pain.

“This armor looks crude.” I say to myself, “But it is in fact, high quality.” I think I shall have to find the blacksmith and commend him for his work.

This place…what could have brought on the need for it? I see a flash in my mind of that man on the tower. Who was he? I feel like I should know him, like he is someone important in my life. Although, I can also feel that it is not a good importance. Like a… a necessary evil.

That strange pain flashes through my mind again, like the ache of a wound that has long since healed. It passes after a moment, and then I see Darren talking to some people. They do not look like mu…wait. One of them catches my eye and when she does, my sight, my attention, and even my heart are all taken from me in that moment. Hair the color of midnight cascades down her shoulders, ending at her lower back. A sword hangs sheathed at her side. Strapped across her shoulders is an odd machine with a tube on the end. She wears the same clothes as everyone else, and even though they are in the same state of wear, it looks amazing on her.

I cannot help but stare; she is a shining vision of perfection. She turns and I see more of her face. Her eyes are a most beautiful purple color, and her raven hair accentuates her porcelain skin. She has a slender build, but a well proportioned body.

 Darren finishes whatever he was saying and sees me. He notices I am staring at the girl and somehow manages to grin even further.

“Alright guys,” He says, “I gotta show the newbie around.”

The girl says something to him I do not hear. Darren laughs and holds up one of his hands.

“It’ll be okay Solution.” He tells her, “I’ve got a good feeling about this guy.”

“His hair is white.” Another girl points out.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” A dark-skinned boy asks.

“I dunno,” A third girl with light hair says. She looks at me and continues in a loud whisper easy for me to hear, “He’s kinda cute.”

“His hair is white.” The girl repeats, “It’s weird.”

“It kinda works on him.” The light haired girl says.

“Guys.” Darren says, “Shut up. I’ll get answers and we’ll discuss how to proceed tonight. For now…do whatever, I don’t care.”

The four of them all head off in different directions while Darren walks back to me.

“Like it?” He asks, gesturing with his eyes to the entire cave.

“It is beyond incredible.” I say.

“I know, right? Sometimes I wonder how they managed it.”

“You do not know?” I ask.

“Nah, wasn’t even born at the time.” He tells me.

“Who is that you were talking to?” I ask.

“You’ll find out later.” He assures. “For now, why don’t I show you around?”

“Alright.” I agree, and start to follow Darren down the dirt street.

“By the way,” Darren says, “If Solution catches you staring at her again, she’ll cut you into pieces and feed them to her wolf.”

“Solution?” I repeat.

“The girl you were staring at.”

“Her name is Solution?”

“That’s what she likes to be called, yeah.”

“Does that mean she has another name?”

“Of course she does.”

“Will you tell me?”

“Nope.” Darren shakes his head. “Only I know it, she won’t tell anyone else and has forbidden me to do so. She’s really special to me, so I respect her wishes.”

“What sort of special?” I wonder aloud.

“Why, jealous?” he teases.

“Yes.” I answer honestly.

He loses the smile, “Oh, well then…forget about it. We have a very special relationship, but it isn’t like that.” He shudders suddenly, as if smelling something sour.

“What is it?” I ask.

“The thought of Solution and I…” He shudders again, more violently.

“What is so wrong with that?” I ask. “She is a stunning beauty.”

“Is she?” Darren asks, “I can’t tell.”

“Really?”

Darren shrugs, “I try not to look at her like that.”

“If she is not named Solution from birth,” I wonder, “Why is she called that?”

“That would be due to her unbelievable intelligence. That girl has the answer to pretty much any problem. She makes all the plans and serves as my right hand.”

 “Your right hand?” I repeat.

“Meaning that she’s in charge, besides me.”

“Impressive. What happened to left hand?”

“Alright, fine, she’s my left hand.”

“Okay.” I say, “Um, in charge of what, exactly?”

“The Resistance against the Dark God.” Darren proclaims proudly.

What a clever name, but Dark God? Possibly the man who threw me off the tower? He seemed dark, and powerful.

“I know it’s lame,” Darren says, “But we don’t really have a reason to come up with something fancy do we? After all, the name is more for us than anyone else. We’re secret, only the Dark God and his flunkies know about us. Then again, not hard to get that way when most of humanity is dead.”

“Fair poi… wait, what!” I shout,

“Yeah, most of the world’s population was destroyed a while back. We don’t know how much is left, but it can’t be a whole lot. You didn’t know?”

He said that so calmly, what is going on here?

“No I did not know that. How were they killed?” I ask.

“Radiation poisoning, for a good portion of ‘em. A lot more were killed in battle, I’m sure a few died from starvation or dehydration by trying to survive in a world like this.”

“What could have possibly caused a world like that?” I ask, horrified.

Darren’s face becomes somber, “The Dark God did.”

“Elaborate, please.” I beg of him.

Darren shakes his head, “We’ll get to that later. For now, I want to show you the rest of the Fox-Hole.”

“Fine,” I concede, my voice hollow, “Lead the way.”

“Wonderful.” Darren says happily, a grin again lighting his face. “I think you’re gonna love this place!”

He leads me to the end of the street, then turns and faces it.

“There are six streets in total, all serving different needs. We face living. Where obviously, there are the buildings where we all live. Styled after old hotel buildings.”

“What is over there?” I ask, pointing to a large indentation in the cave wall away from any street.

“Ahh, that is where the fun happens.” Darren says.

“But what is it?” I ask again.

“First, a question.” Darren says. He looks me in the eye, “Are you in?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you willing to help us fight against the Dark God and end his tyranny?”

“I have only just met you.” I answer. “I do not even know who I am, much less what to believe. You think I am going to just blindly follow the first person I meet?”

“No,” He responds, “But I promise we’ve got a good purpose.”

“Is that all?”

He lowers his gaze to the floor, then sighs as he returns it to me, “Look, I know I’m asking a lot of you here, but what choice do you have? I convinced my people not to kill you because I thought better of the idea, trust me on that alone, or can’t you?”

I consider that for a moment. If this so called Dark God caused the death of so many people, then he is clearly unfit for anything other than Tartarus. What is Tartarus?

“I do not like the idea of tyranny.” I decide, “Beyond that, it is obvious that a man who would kill so many for power, should not possess it. So if or until I decide better of it, count me in.”

“Great!” Darren says, “We need more warriors; a bunch of the people here are just trying to stay alive. Are you a warrior?” he asks. He looks me up and down, seemingly trying to gauge my abilities with but a look.

“I do not know, but I am willing to find out.”

 “Perfect.” Darren leads me to the section of wall I pointed out, and lifts up his hand to a silver plate next to the indentation. Before placing his hand down, he turns to me with a glint in his eyes, “Welcome to the party.”

He slams his hand down and a part of the cave wall slides away, revealing a gigantic arena. They have an entire arena cut into this place!

 “Where are we?” I ask in wonder.

“We call this place the Great Hall, this is where we train, eat, and plan for missions and stuff.”

The room is colossal, with a giant table set aside in a corner. Large theater style seats ring the place, high above the lower floor. Most of the room is clearly meant for training, as several dozen dummies and targets are scattered about, along with an odd assortment of pipes and ropes the purpose of which I cannot discern. Perhaps…meant for climbing? Yeah, I think so. I turn my attention to the exact center, an empty space where several people spar, seemingly using…

“Hey Darren, are they using actual weapons?”

He looks where my eyes are and chuckles, “Yeah, how else are they gonna learn?”

“Fair point.”

He walks over to a wall lined with hundreds of weapons the likes of which cannot be described fully. I find myself admiring the wall. Just a moment.

“Darren?” I ask. “Where did these come from?”

“This place was built near an iron mine.” He explains. “Dozens of people were former metal workers. Others were masters in various forms of martial arts. They pooled their skills and prioritized weapon making. Guns were preferred, but we couldn’t spare the iron to make bullets our primary tools, so they decided to train us in using bladed weapons like swords and stuff. Some of them were made by the blacksmiths, and some were stolen from the Dark God.”

Darren starts looking through the weapons as he talks. My eyes wander and I notice hundreds of those tube things, what are they?

“Those tube things, are those weapons?” I ask.

“Uh yeah, they’re the guns I mentioned a second ago. Also called fire-arms.”

“Fire-arms.” I say the word slowly, rolling it around on my tongue. “What do they do?”

“Wow, really? They fire these little metal fragments, called bullets, really fast, aim right and their deadlier than the best sword.”

“Incredible, how long have they been around?” I have never heard of them before. At least, I do not think so. I could blame the amnesia, but I can name all of the other weapons easily.

“Um, I actually don’t know, a few hundred years, I think.”

“What about the clothes we are wearing, what are these, more on, what are they for?”

“Well, the shirt is something developed based on ancient sportswear. Skin-tight, but flexible and reinforced with hardened fibers that make it virtually impervious to tear. As for the pants, they’re developed from the same durable material, only made to handle more movement. Pockets were sewn into them for storing med supplies, should that be necessary. The boots on your feet are ninja-styled and armored; since you probably thought they look weird.

“Ninja?” I repeat.

“Not important.”

“What of your pants?” I ask, pointing to the dark blue cloth that covers his legs. “They do not look like mine.”

“Ah, these are blue jeans. I usually wear the standard black as everyone else, but I found these during a raid a while back and they just look so damn good I couldn’t resist.” Apart from the blue jeans, he is wearing the same clothing as I am, only it seems in better condition, with less tears in the fabric. In addition, the metal that makes up his armor pieces looks like polished silver rather than the dull iron that constitutes my protection. His right arm is covered by a thin silver gauntlet, ending at his elbow. His other arm has only the same glove as I currently wear.

“What of the gauntlet?”

He stops what he is doing and turns to me. He raises his arm and stretches his armored fingers. “This is a symbol of my granted right to lead this resistance. Like a king’s crown. It was passed on to me at the previous leader’s death.”

“I see.” I can think of nothing else to say.

Darren turns back to the wall and continues looking through the weapons, mumbling something about misplacing things. Finally he picks up a small blue staff that, judging from the end, had been broken off of something much larger. He tosses it to me, and I catch it without a thought. This is the same thing that had fallen just after me before.

“We found this in the crater you were in; we assumed it was yours, is it?” He asks, taking out a knife and fiddling with it.

I shake my head “I honestly have no idea about, anything before falling off that tower. And now even that is… fuzzy.”

He does not look surprised. “You’re not the first amnesiac. They all showed the same symptoms, even recent memories becoming foggy shortly after they occur. Though you do seem to be the calmest so far.”

“How so?”

“The others freaked out, like, immediately and got themselves killed.”

“Is that a joke? They actually died?”

“We’re usin’ real weapons here, they didn’t know anything.” He points the knife at me as he speaks. “You may have no memories, but at least you woke up coherent. They didn’t, so yeah, they really died. It’s a b***h, I know. But that’s less people to worry about, right?”

Seriously, what in Tartarus is going on?

“Anyway,” Darren says. He gestures to the weapon in my hands. “What do you think of that?”

Darren is… unusual, and this Resistance of his…I shudder to think of whatever horror could have brought this on. I try to put it out of my mind and focus on the weapon. Something strange happens; I get a flash, a vision. A winged man in blue robes, with a golden theater mask over his face, frowning. He is holding the staff, and then tosses it to me. The vision passes and suddenly I know to change my grip, and hold the weapon correctly. It is small, but durable, made of a strong kind of wood. Also, I can feel that it has seen many battles; it is smooth as only a well-used weapon can be. It also feels…familiar.

I feel all this in only a moment. I look up and see Darren studying me with an expectant look.

“This weapon feels…connected to me somehow.” I say, “And I can almost read it. It has seen many battles, and rarely lost. Strange, the weapons is…almost talking to me. I cannot explain it.”

Darren loses the odd look, donning a serious face. “Weapons know when they’re in the proper hands.” He then looks normal with that strange grin. “I favor hook swords, but let’s see what you can do with that thing, huh?”

 

ɂɂɂ

                       

“Aether.” Erebus says. He looks out at his world through the highest window of his tower, watching with pleasure as his black clouds funnel and churn through the dark sky. He swirls his hand in the air, watching as the clouds respond to and mimic his movement. He continues playing with the clouds for a few moments while, behind him, five of his servants bustle about the room, still hard at work cleaning the carnage from the battle of two days before. Ichor and mortal blood splatter the once-polished marble still, dangerously close to staining the surfaces on which they lay.

Erebus wonders about the battle, how suddenly it had started. And with what little effort he had been successful in ending it.

“Too easily.” He mutters to himself. “How the mighty has fallen! But why? Were you even trying?”

Anger briefly flashes across Erebus’ face. “Is that it? Did you let me win? Were you planning this? Why?” Erebus seethes for a moment before regaining his composure. “No. Questioning it will do nothing for me. Still, surprising to see that he survived the fall. Given him coiling mortal flesh around himself.”

“But now Darren has found him.” Erebus scoffs, “They have never been anything more than amusement. But now, now something could change for them.”

One of the servants stops working, “Sire, forgive me but I could not help but wonder. What could they possibly do to you?” The Dark God raises his eyes and looks over at him.

“You are my newest servant, yes?” The servant has a look of shock and lowers his head, knowing better than to answer. Erebus merely raises his hand and the servant disappears in black ash, not even having enough to scream. “Any more questions?” he threatens. The remaining servants bow their heads in silence and engross themselves in their work. “Good”

 

Author's Note

This is in the mind of an amnesiac as he first wakes up. His language and structure is not going to be as proficient as a normal person's should be.

Reviews

[David Ung]

Your first chapter is amazing, way way better than mine. I love the concept and I will read more. Thank you for posting this. The emotions and mysteries are well written, but I think that you should revise it over again. I found a few mistakes that could be changed easily. "sruprising" should be surprising and " The girl says something to him I do not here" should be hear. The last part, though. I didn't quite like it as much. I feel like it should be tightened up more. Other than that, it is an amazing chapter and I would love to read more. :)

[Xavier Lee]

Thank you for reviewing. Errors like here/hear and spelling errors I'm afraid are to expected in long pieces such as this. Not to say that they should be ignored, but they should be understood and accepted as a likelihood. I've gotten quite a bit of flack for the last part. I thought it could have been better as well, I'm just not sure how to make it so. I look forward to reading future reviews from you.

[Dante Carlisle]

Sorry it's taken me so long to get back and review this after all the chapters you've reviewed for me, but here I am. About half of the issues I found were simple typos, but that seems to be covered by the last few reviews.

I came up with a few ways that you could perhaps improve this, but they're little things, on the whole I enjoyed reading this, and as time goes on I'll work my way through the rest.

-The first and most important thing I can think to say is put in a mention earlier about how the main character's dialogue is different than the rest of the people's. Perhaps a mention from Darren about the archaic nature of his speech. It took me a moment to realize you were making his speech extremely proper on purpose. So, if you made a mention of it from another character or perhaps the character's internal dialogue about how different he sounds from everyone else.

-Why didn't the first guy he met have any kind of negative reaction to him? If everyone mistrusts him so much, why didn't anyone say or do anything to show it? Perhaps an opportunity for more conflict, or a subplot?

-One of the only true prose issues that I found in a few places is the same problem I have with many stories written in first person. There are points in a story where it's easy to fall into the trap of beginning every sentence with the word I or putting it in every sentence for paragraphs in a row. I've tried to avoid doing this with the few stories I've written in first person because I always notice it when I'm reading and it takes me out of the story for a moment. I don't know if anyone else has this problem, but an accidental repetitive is never really a good thing.

-The only other issue that jumped out at me was ease of reading. I always separate my paragraphs when I post on here to make the differentiation a little simpler. Writer's Café tends to jumble everything together, and I always copy my stuff in here. If you copy and paste it once, then delete it and paste it again the spaces are automatically put between the paragraphs. Easy trick and it helps a lot.

Other than those few things I loved the opening to the story. Once I realized you were making the main character's voice a little different from the others I had to appreciate that you put that in there. I hate it when dialogue sounds like proper speech, no one actually talks like that. Good work on that. I also like the description you use on things. Too many people have a habit of overdescribing everything, but the reader will create a view on the scene in their minds no matter how little information you give them. Thumbnails have always been the way to go in my opinion.

As I said, I look forward to reading the rest, and excellent work with the opening.

-

[Xavier Lee]

Thank you for your review. I'm glad you finally got to it. Typos happen a lot, but I've tried my best to avoid them and fix them when they happen. I feel I may have rushed this a bit and I definitely didn't focus on the people of the Resistance too heavily. I'll go back and change that, maybe add in a scene where some of them yell at him for barging into their lifestyle.
Thank you again for you review, and I will get to work on fixing the issues you pointed out as soon as I am able.

[BryanCX]

Interestinggggg.... Anyways, great chapter (intro), well written, explained. More of a dialogue chapter, but very good still. Reading this felt bit like a rush, it doesn't create a relaxing and intriguing section. I like the first part the most. That chapter just hooked me onto it. Make sure you take your time and don't rush the story to fast. Still a great work. Well done!

[Xavier Lee]

Thank you, and looking back on it, it may be a bit rushed. It hadn't felt that way before but I realize I just kinda...boom this happens, boom now this is happening. I'll look it over and see if I can slow it down a bit. Thank you.

[Nonnye]

Hi
Thanks for posting this. Interesting read. Good opening sentence. In 10 words a hook is established. The scene is set; anything could happened but what did was a surprise. Foreshadowing then mystery is established, emotion, tension and conflict are all there in the opening paragraph. There are a couple of "bumps" you may want to look at. ". . . heads from my forehead into the. . . " may consider a different verb than "heads" something stronger that doesn't repeat itself? I scream at the top of my lungs, “I will kill you!” as I continue to fall, the top of the tower and the man in the hood fading away until, eventually, I crash into the earth. You may want to consider breaking this up a bit; removing a comma and adding a period perhaps.
Darren started off strong. Good description of him then something happened and he became less substantial. I think I became tired of his jolliness but I'm sure how much could be changed and not loose the basic character. I found myself getting tire of the description of the cave as the story progressed(I have a personnel dislike of vary much description in a story I will skip this in my favorite books so . . .)it did not keep me from finishing the story or enjoying it. The only bit a advice I think I would offer there is find strong adjectives.
The only part of the chapter I felt was weak was the last with Erebus is musing then his action toward the servant. It felt rushed.

[Xavier Lee]

Thank you for your review. As to Darren losing substance, I'm not sure I understand what you mean. Though that may be due to the fact of my awareness for how he progresses. I could definitely find better adjectives, but you need to remember that this is from the mind of the protagonist as it happens to him. With amnesia his language is going to be simple and constrained. As to too much description, I'm afraid that's on you. Other people may want more description of the area and I'd rather cater to them. Though later I think I do tone it down a bit as more action happens. Again I thank you for reviewing and sincerely hope you review as I submit further chapters.