Wordsmith Wednesdays

Today I'm posting the most recent draft of the first chapter of my stalled novel. I know a few people read my blog, and I'd be very interested in their opinions. Do you want to read more?

Chapter One

Mountains clustered over most of the Elven country of Moreai, all of them reaching the clouds. On the highest mountain of the Colucca range, a wide ledge formed naturally into the side of the rock. A tall, Elven woman stood at the edge of the shelf, looking out over the landscape of her home country. From the horizon in the south, a dark green thread of water, the river Piato, stretched across the landscape until it joined with the lake below. Lake Talia. The green water glittered, the flashes of light reaching the woman’s eyes. At the edge of the lake was the small village of Talia, so close to the base of the mountain that the woman couldn’t see the lights of the homes that she knew were there. She turned back to face the ledge, taking in the flat rock floor. The mountain continued to rise before her, creating a wall sheltering the ledge. Scattered rocks and plants clustered around a small spring that burst through the ground. Rain began to fall softly.

She looked upwards towards the midnight sky. Two bright white full moons illuminated her, making her features clear. A soft, white face with smooth clear skin. Pale blue eyes, flashing with anticipation. Her long, straight black hair fell down her back and her white skin was damp with the moisture in the air. She shivered and pulled a purple robe from the velvet sack beside her. She put it on, gathering its folds around her, then pushed her hair back behind ears that curved into a point. She took a last look out over the country and then began to prepare for the ritual. Reaching into the sack again she pulled out a handful of tall blue candles and placed them at five points in a large circle around the spring. She cleared some pebbles and rocks from the inside of the circle. Reaching out her hand, a thin trail of flame burst from her fingers, lighting the candles. With her magic she traced a fiery circle between them.

She reached into the sack again and pulled out a short silver blade with a white marble handle and a white marble chalice. Footsteps and low murmuring alerted her to the two Elves climbing the track to the mountain shelf and she placed the chalice and blade by the spring before turning to embrace the newcomers. Both were male Elves, as tall as she; one her age and one much older. The older man had the same long, straight black hair as the woman, though his had white streaks betraying his age. He had the same blue eyes, surrounded with subtle lines. He took the young woman into his arms and held her tightly, giving her one soft kiss on each white cheek. The younger man had blond hair, falling in waves to his shoulders. He had deep grey eyes and soft white skin, and he embraced the woman with two kisses on each cheek.

With their greetings complete, the three Elves spread around the inside of the circle, the young Elf to the woman’s right and the old Elf to her left. The female Elf raised her arms to the sky and began the incantation.
“I am Aphra, daughter of Vitus and daughter of Jesslyn. I call upon the Elven magic of my ancestors.”
Her voice echoed over the ledge, spilling onto the deserted mountain.
“I summon all those in past, present and future who will bear witness.”
The young man smiled at her, and all three Elves looked to the sky. Between Xa’s two full moons, a dozen stars grew brighter and slowly closer. The lights removed themselves from the sky, dancing around the gathering like fireflies. The three Elves watched the lights settle to the ground outside the circle of candles. In the blink of an eye, the stars from the sky flashed and became the ghosts of a dozen Elves. A mix of males and females, young and old, all with two things in common. They were all dead, brought back to the land of the living for this ceremony, and they all smiled at Aphra with the loving gaze of family.

When the dozen Elven spirits stood outside the candle of circles, the young male Elf smiled at Aphra again and raised his hands to the sky.
“I am Hayden, son of Nealen and son of Tybida. I call upon the Elven magic of my ancestors. I summon all those in past, present and future who will bear witness.”
The gathering of Elves looked upwards once more and watched as another dozen stars fell to the Earth and joined the circle. Hayden’s ancestors.

The third Elf gazed at the two young Elves proudly. He cast his eyes around those assembled and spoke in a low rumble of a voice.
“I am Vitus, son of Maver and son of Tyfair. I stand here tonight to preside over this handfasting. To join my daughter, Aphra, to this Elf, Hayden.”
He held out his hands, and Aphra and Hayden put their joined hands in his.
“I am father of my clan, this is my right. I stand before these Elves; ancestors of myself and my daughter, and ancestors of an Elf soon to be my son. On behalf of these two, I seek blessings.”
Vitus looked at the Elf spirits gathered, locking eyes with each one and waiting for their smile and nod before moving on to the next. When all the Elves had given their blessings, Vitus let go of the hands he held and reached for the chalice and the blade. He scooped cool, clear water from the spring into the chalice, then turned to his daughter. He took Aphra’s hand, drawing the blade of the athame lightly across her palm. He let nine drops of her blood fall into the chalice, then passed his hand over the wound, healing it with his magic. Vitus turned to Hayden and repeated the process, then stirred the liquid with the athame. The chalice was passed first to Aphra, then to Hayden. They both drank deeply from it, then held hands tightly. Vitus smiled and reached into his robe. From his pocket he pulled two thin strips of silver. The metal was inscribed with runes for love, truth, loyalty and protection.
“Hayden,” he said softly. “Tonight you join with Aphra, to become one. This union is witnessed and blessed by your ancestors. This band is a symbol of your commitment to each other.”
Vitus reached for Hayden’s left arm and wrapped the silver band around his wrist. The metal bent naturally, as though it were made of dough, and the ends fused together when they met, aided by Vitus’s magic. Vitus turned to Aphra and repeated the steps of the ritual, giving her a handfasting band as well.
“And now,” he said, “with the blessings of your ancestors and the mingling of your blood, you are one.”
The couple embraced as Vitus looked on proudly and the ancestors faded one by one.

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Vitus left the young Elves to their embrace and began to dismantle the circle, but a thundering of heavily booted feet distracted them all. They rushed to the edge of the shelf, Aphra and Hayden still holding hands. Halfway up the mountain track, getting closer and closer to the shelf, was a troop of twenty Human men, all dressed in black. Scabbards were tied to every Human’s belt, and each man held his sword aloft, the heavy weapons reflecting the moonlight. At the head of the troop was a Human a head taller than the others who held his sword in one hand and an ebony wand in the other. The Elves pulled back from the edge of the shelf, and heard the man thunder;
“In the name of my Lord, I purge you.”
Vitus crouched to begin an incantation as Hayden and Aphra reached for their swords. A red beam of light hit the edge of the shelf, shattering the rock as the men climbed up and onto the ledge.

Hayden and Aphra moved into defensive positions in front of the spell-casting Vitus. The leader of the Humans aimed the wand at the wall behind them, sending the red beam into the rock, carving out chunks that fell on the Elves. The men advanced, baring their swords and looks of fury. Aphra glanced briefly at the handfasting band on her wrist, then stepped forward, swinging her weapon to clash against a man’s sword that was coming towards her. She fought hard, bringing her sword forward over and over again, Elven steel meeting Human steel and Human flesh. Beside her, Hayden fought more of the men, keeping pace. Each time her sword rang against a Human’s, Hayden’s sword rang in echo. Hayden caught a sword on the side of his leg, and he stumbled, blood soaking his robe. Aphra pressed into the man who had attacked him, bringing her sword down on his head, cleaving into it. The Human fell. Hayden dragged himself to his feet to cover Aphra’s back. His sword entered the stomach of a man who fell beside his comrade. The battle continued and two more Humans fell; one losing an arm to Aphra’s blade and one losing his head to Hayden’s.

Behind them, Vitus brought his incantation to a close and a raging storm began to climb the mountain. Aphra could hear the thunder getting louder as she turned back to back with Hayden, crossing sword with Human after Human who circled the three Elves. There were six left, while the leader stood at the edge of the shelf and watched. Hayden and Aphra took down another, bringing their swords together through his chest and ignoring the taunts coming from his companions.
“Filthy Elves!”
“Scum of Xa!”
“Waste of flesh!”
“Plague of this land!”

Vitus’s storm reached the mountain shelf and the driving rain drowned out the sound of the taunts. The leader of the Humans moved out of the way of a striking lightning bolt, stepping into shadows. He watched his men fall without compassion, waiting for the perfect moment. He stood, ebony rod and sword waiting for action. Two of his men broke out of the circle and pressed forward to strike. Aphra and Hayden turned as one to block the attack. The leader used the opportunity to move around the edge of the shelf until he stood behind Vitus. The elderly Elf was concentrating on the storm, using its rain to hinder the men and it’s lightning to attack them. He didn’t see the leader aim the ebony wand at his back.

Aphra saw the red beam hit her father. She saw the ball of brilliant white light that was his magic rise from his chest and hover above him. The storm died as the leader pulled a small crystal vial from his pocket. He called “Come!” and the ball of light sank swiftly into the vial. Then, without even looking, he thrust his sword through the Elf’s back. Aphra lunged towards the leader with her sword raised to take his head from his body. The Human dodged her blow easily; she was angry and careless. Her ill-timed attack left her on the ground by her father’s body. The Human glanced at her once, a look on his face that could have been a smirk. Aphra stayed at her father’s side for a moment, leaving the man who rushed her from behind to her husband’s blade.

Another man swung his sword into Hayden’s shoulder and the force slammed him into the wall. His head struck the rock and he slumped to the ground unconsciously. Aphra saw her husband fall, and stood. She flipped her sword out to her left, beheading one of the men who attacked her. She prepared to rush the leader again, but the remaining men surrounded her. As she fought against them, she watched the leader from the corner of her eye. He approached Hayden’s fallen body, bringing the ebony wand and its red beam onto the Elf’s chest. Aphra cried out as Hayden’s magic rose from him. She fell to her knees as the leader arced his sword, slicing Hayden’s head from his shoulders even as he called the magic to the crystal vial.

Aphra’s body went numb. The remaining men drove blades into her from all sides, but she felt no pain. She stood, dropping her sword. Grief and fury coursed through her veins, swelling her magic to dangerous proportions. Her eyes clouded over and she flung out her left hand. A white ray cast from the palm of her hand, hitting the riders to her left in pure, uncontrolled emotional magic. In a matter of seconds, their skin began to sizzle and cook, then disintegrate. The flesh and blood beneath began to boil, and their bones turned to ash. Aphra moved her hand in front of her, sending the white ray across the ledge to hit every remaining Human. They met the same fate and the furious Elf turned her gaze on the leader. The Human who had slaughtered her father and husband glared back at her, the last man standing. He showed no fear in his eyes, no emotion even. Aphra let her arms fall to her sides, the white ray vanishing. The Human met her eyes again, and laughed. She closed her eyes, and then she vanished.

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