Flames Without Fire, ~450 words

[BetaWolf]

This is the first section of a different story that I just started writing two days ago. It's just one of those scenes that comes from somewhere.

In this section, some time has passed since Jonas was a slave on Tara's ship, and they are traveling to an abandoned temple with Tara's mentor Larissa. Just before they go into the ruins, some strange things start to happen.

-------------------

The temple complex stretched out as far as the eye could see. The fountains, pavement, and buildings were all done in white marble, but Tara knew that Jonas saw more than just tumbled-down piles of stone.

Her more youthful companion was transfixed by the entire landscape. Colors, smells, and textures jumped at him from every angle and direction, and he reflected these sensations back to her, but in a diminished form. With her own eyes, Tara could see only cold marble, cracked in some places and entirely stripped off the buildings in others. But at the same time, another dimension was present, vibrant in color, and dancing like shadows around a flickering flame.

“Jonas,” she said. He made no response, so she said his name again and shook him gently at the shoulder. Then again, harder. “Jonas. . . . Jonas,” she said, drawing out the syllables in his name.

Finally he looked in her direction. His milky white eyes stared into hers, and she felt pangs of fear mixed with exhilaration. “We made it here at last,” he said with a wry smile. “It’s so . . . beautiful.” She returned the smile, but she was not sure if he could see the gesture. “So many colors here.”

“Flames without fire, isn’t that what you said in Tula?”

“You remembered,” Jonas said with a beaming smile. Then with a little severity, “Open up all three eyes every now and then, Tara, and you’ll see it too. All of it.” I’m not mad, she thought. Look at what it’s done to you. And Larissa.

“Larissa’s fine,” Jonas replied. Damn. Now he’s telepathic. The youth smiled. “I’ve always been able to read your thoughts. When we are touching, at least.” Tara let go of his hand. I didn’t even realize I was holding it.

She looked down momentarily at her aged mentor. Larissa was curled up against a gnarled tree stump. A subtle smile crept along the sleeping crone’s face. Then she started laughing hysterically in her sleep. “Ooh, Daresh, Daresh, aaah.” Her eyes fluttered quickly and then she dropped off into a deeper slumber.

Shaking herself back to reality, Tara turned back to Jonas. “Shall we go in?” she asked.

Jonas shook his head. “Almost,” the youth replied. “Just a moment more. . . ." He closed his eyes—the blind ones—and reached out with his mind. Then the youth began to tremble, and his knees gave way.

Tara reached out instinctively and grabbed both his arms, behind the elbow. Sharp emotions pierced her, and more dull sensations coursed through her body, sending her into convulsions. There was overwhelming pleasure, throbbing hatred, gasping fear. She made love, sought vengeance, and fled for her life, all at the same time. But . . . These aren't my thoughts.

She saw in an instant everything that had been here and some of what would be. Every nerve in her body overloaded, and her vision flooded with a blinding white light. Oh damn it.

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

This is very good. I certainly don't have any technical quibbles. I might suggest that you make the temple somewhat more vivid through your skill with sensory details. Instead of just saying "colors, smells, and textures" give us very specific examples. (The vivid colors of flowers and gaudy robes, or the subtle pastels of painted statues; the mingled scents of sweating workers and perfumed courtesans, or spiced breads baking in public ovens; the feel of a brisk wind on his skin, or the rough pavement on his feet; and so on.)

 

[BetaWolf]

Thank you, Victoria. I feel better about my dialogue lately, but I agree that I need more descriptive description.

 

[Glisterspeck]

The temple complex stretched out as far as the eye could see. The fountains, pavement, and buildings were all done in white marble, but Tara knew that Jonas saw more than just tumbled-down piles of stone.

Her more youthful companion was transfixed by the entire landscape. Colors, smells, and textures jumped at him from every angle and direction, and he reflected these sensations back to her, but in a diminished form.

Isn't this describing some sort of telepathy? She's seeing, in her mind, what he is seeing right? (I could just be reading this wrong.) If this is the very beginning of the story, I might establish that link first -- right now this seems like a massive head jump, right up until the last sentence of the second paragraph.

With her own eyes, Tara could see only cold marble, cracked in some places and entirely stripped off the buildings in others.

You can't see what is not there. Are we meant to focus on the patches of bare substrate where the marble is missing, or the cold marble that has, maybe, fallen to the ground at the foot of the walls?

Shaking herself back to reality...

Is this meant to be taken literally? I'm guessing not. Maybe you can give us a literal action that can be paired with this? Like shaking her head? Blinking her eyes?

Then the youth began to tremble, and his knees gave way.

I'd like this collapse to build a little more. Seems a bit ho-hum as is.

Tara reached out instinctively and grabbed both his arms, behind the elbow. Sharp emotions pierced her, and more dull sensations coursed through her body, sending her into convulsions. There was overwhelming pleasure, throbbing hatred, gasping fear. She made love, sought vengeance, and fled for her life, all at the same time...

Are they both falling to the ground now? Seems like they ought to be as they are both convulsing.

_________________________

The best thing I can say about this story, or any story after only a few hundred words, is that it is interesting and I'd be interested to hear more of it. Perhaps you'll post some as you go? What length are you aiming for?

 

[BetaWolf]

@GS: Thank you for the poignant critique. This is part of the bigger work I'm aiming for. Looks like a YA novel maybe. My last posted piece for critique I plan as a short story, but this will go towards the novel. Actually, I see it as somewhere later in the first half.

I swallowed my medicine and rethought this section, hopefully integrating some of your suggestions. I threw my readers into the middle of a mess, I admit.

I've thrown in more particulars as you suggested, Victoria. The first run was a vague, crumbling, marble temple, somewhere. This one is a more particular site. I pray I've done better this time:

------------
[FONT=&quot]“And three more steps here,” I heard Tara say. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]I could sense her reaching for me again, but I put my left hand up. “No, cousin. I need to do it myself.” I gripped the lease in my right hand a little tighter, and Nixxie responded to the renewed tension. Good kitty, I thought. She gently pulled me forward and upward. One. Two.

And on three I tripped and fell on my knees. The steps were made of weathered sandstone: I felt the familiar grittiness on my palms.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
The smell of spring flowers greeted me at the top of the mountain, and mixed with the scent of wet panther. Nixxie nudged me to my feet. I stroked the back of her neck and found my footing slowly. The first few steps were torture for my skinned knees.

Nearby, I heard drums, soft singing, and stringed instruments. The soles of my feet felt other feet dancing, and I could not blame them for following the rhythm. My knees gradually loosened up, and I was thankful for that. “What language is that?” I asked out loud.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]“What language?” Tara responded.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
A cool, wrinkled hand lay on my right forearm. “Classical Nahuatl, dear,” I heard Larissa say. Her voice was cheerful, like a songbird’s. “They’re praising Tlaloc, the rain god, with word and song and dance. In the spring, they beg him for early rains.”

[/FONT] [FONT=&quot]Tara did not sound convinced. “I don’t hear anything. My valet’s as mad as you are,” she said, turning to Larissa.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“No, my dear, but you are as blind as poor Jonas is,” Larissa replied. “Maybe more so. These old stones remember the hopes and blood poured out here.” Open your third eye, I heard the old lady say in my head.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
I can’t, I replied. Last time—[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
You’re safe here[/FONT][FONT=&quot], she said reassuringly.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
My first two eyelids closed, and the third one popped open, right in the center of my forehead. A rush of color invaded my mind. We were in the middle of a brightly colored shrine. An altar in the middle and the two braziers that flanked it were painted green, yellow, and red, but blue was the color that predominated here. The dancers wore long green and yellow feathers that fluttered behind them as they danced in quick circles.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Good,” Larissa said. “Now tell me what you see.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“I see dancers wearing bright feathers. And one in the center, by the altar. He’s tall and dressed all in blue, and he holds a long pointed stick and a blue shield.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“That’s Tlaloc,” she replied. “Waiting for his spring sacrifice.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
In my inner eye, I saw Tara shaking her head skeptically. “What’s the point of all this?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
Larissa’s hand left my arm. “A quiet place like this, but so charged with memory, will help Jonas learn to use his gifts.” She cleared her throat. “His normal sight was taken from him, but with proper training, Jonas will be able to see what most cannot.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
My initial fear overcome, I strained to see and hear more. Feathered men arrived with litters of screaming children. One by one, the priest who led the procession from the valley below ripped open their little chests and offered their hearts to his god.

The smell of blood and the sight and sounds of the sacrificed became too much for me. I looked at the little bloody hearts, smelled the blood in the air, and felt my own blood rush from my head.

I fell prostrate and vomited my guts out. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I heaved again. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
Tara rubbed my back between the shoulders reassuringly, but through my tears I saw her turn angrily to Larissa. “It’s too much for him. Can’t you see that?”

[/FONT] [FONT=&quot]I could feel Larissa smile. She was rather pleased with herself. “He’s confronted his fear and used his gift. The first few times can be very intense, and it’s better that way.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“The smell of blood,” I told Tara. “Don’t you feel it?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Yes, I do,” she replied with a little trepidation. “Where is it coming from?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“The children. Beautiful little ones decked out in feathers and painted blue,” I explained. “But their little hearts are turning the altar red. Look and see.” I pointed to the altar. I felt Tara’s heart skip a beat. [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“You can feel what I feel as long as we touch.” And I can hear your thoughts, Tara.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
My lady pulled away. “Since when?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
I tried to swallow my laughter, but it came out my nose, as a loud snort. Larissa laughed, too. “Only when you touch, dear,” the old woman explained. “He’s been trained in touch telepathy.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Not by me,” Tara insisted. “How long have you been pilfering through my mind, whelp?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
“Oh, since we first met in Pallas,” I said with a shrug. “It was part of my training for the war. To pilot bio-ships, you have to have the touch.” I lifted up my free hand and wiggled my fingers. Larissa found this very funny.[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
I could sense the blood rush to Tara’s face, but her right hook came too fast for me to avoid. Nixxie hissed, and Larissa laughed again, but her mirth turned into a fit of coughing. Still flat on my back, I reassured my panther, and accepted Tara’s hand.

As she lifted me up, she whispered, “Alright, enough Aztec rain gods.”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]
I nodded and closed my inner eye. The world grew dark again, but the shades of dancers, priests, and dead children remained.

Worse of all, I could feel Tlaloc’s eyes digging into my back as we began our descent down from the mountain. In the east, towards the sea, thunder rumbled among angry storm clouds.[/FONT]

 

[Jo Zebedee]

I preferred the first, I'm afraid. It gave me a much clearer image of what was happening, with the second I was hugely confused.

The other thing I thought, particularly the first, was that the paragraph placement was a little hard to follow.

Engaging idea, nice characters, but I think it needs a bit more clarity. (Or I might need coffee.)

 

[Tecdavid]

The temple complex stretched out as far as the eye could see. The fountains, pavement, and buildings were all done in white marble, but Tara knew that Jonas saw more than just tumbled-down piles of stone.

Her more (I don't think 'more' is really necessary. It slows the sentence down somewhat) youthful companion was transfixed by the entire landscape. Colors, smells, and textures jumped at him from every angle and direction, and he reflected these sensations back to her, but in a diminished form. (So Jonas is observing something Tara can't notice, and he's signalling this towards her? Or has the PoV switched from Tara to Jonas for this portion of the paragraph?) With her own eyes, Tara could see only cold marble, cracked in some places and entirely stripped off the buildings in others. But at the same time, another dimension was present, vibrant in color, and dancing like shadows around a flickering flame.

“Jonas,” she said. He made no response, so she said his name again and shook him gently at the shoulder. Then again, harder. “Jonas. . . . Jonas,” she said, drawing out the syllables in his name.

Finally he looked in her direction. His milky white eyes stared into hers, and she felt pangs of fear mixed with exhilaration. “We made it here at last,” he said with a wry smile. “It’s so . . . beautiful.” She returned the smile, but she was not sure if he could see the gesture. “So many colors here.” (Ah, so Jonas can only see certain things, and not the mundane?)

“Flames without fire, isn’t that what you said in Tula?”

“You remembered,” Jonas said with a beaming smile. Then with a little severity, “Open up all three eyes every now and then, Tara, and you’ll see it too. All of it.” (I think a new paragraph should be taken here)I’m not mad, she thought. Look at what it’s done to you. And Larissa. (Jonas seems quite relaxed for someone who was recently a slave aboard Tara's ship. I'm surprised he can call her by her first name without flinching, actually, but maybe there's a reason behind it.)

“Larissa’s fine,” Jonas replied. Damn. Now he’s telepathic. (If she's surprised by this, maybe a question mark would be better than a period at the end of her thoughts) The youth smiled. “I’ve always been able to read your thoughts. When we are touching, at least.” Tara let go of his hand. I didn’t even realize I was holding it.

She looked down momentarily at her aged mentor. Larissa was curled up against a gnarled tree stump. A subtle smile crept along the sleeping crone’s face. Then she started laughing hysterically in her sleep. “Ooh, Daresh, Daresh, aaah.” Her eyes fluttered quickly and then she dropped off into a deeper slumber. (Maybe it should be mentioned near the beginning that they're sitting by a tree? I actually thought they were walking through the place. )

Shaking herself back to reality, Tara turned back to Jonas. “Shall we go in?” she asked.

Jonas shook his head. “Almost,” ("Not yet" would make better sense, I think) the youth replied. “Just a moment more. . . ." He closed his eyes—the blind ones—and reached out with his mind. Then the youth began to tremble, and his knees gave way.

Tara reached out instinctively and grabbed both his arms, behind the elbow. Sharp emotions pierced her, and more dull sensations coursed through her body, sending her into convulsions. There was overwhelming pleasure, throbbing hatred, gasping fear. She made love, sought vengeance, and fled for her life, all at the same time. But . . . These aren't my thoughts. (This is a very cool paragraph, but I'd do away with the word "dull" when describing the sensations. I know what you meant by it, but it contradicts the word "overwhelming" used shortly after, and her strong reactions to those sensations.)

She saw in an instant everything that had been here and some of what would be. Every nerve in her body overloaded, and her vision flooded with a blinding white light. Oh, damn it.

I've pointed out a few things, but I did enjoy the scene. It's interesting, and Jonas seems to be quite a curious character. The ending speaks of interesting things to come, too.

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

I preferred the first, I'm afraid. It gave me a much clearer image of what was happening, with the second I was hugely confused.

The other thing I thought, particularly the first, was that the paragraph placement was a little hard to follow.

Engaging idea, nice characters, but I think it needs a bit more clarity. (Or I might need coffee.)

Just to prove that everybody has an opinion, and you need to decide these things for yourself . . .

I really liked this section. Much more vivid, and I had no problem following it at all. (One tiny typographical error: I think you mean "leash" where your have "lease.")

Good job!

 

[Glisterspeck]

Just to prove that everybody has an opinion, and you need to decide these things for yourself . . .

I really liked this section. Much more vivid, and I had no problem following it at all. (One tiny typographical error: I think you mean "leash" where your have "lease.")

Good job!

Ha! There you go. Opposite takes from two of the more insightful reviewers (IMHO) on the Chrons.

In this case, I thought the rewrite to be more interesting, but that may be because of personal biases. I personally love writing sight-impaired narrators and have them in a couple of my WIPs. I find the seer a much more interesting POV character than Tara here.

The voice is a little unsteady for me. It wobbles between a reserved sort of wise sound with the general description and word choices and a more child-like feel with phrases like "vomited my guts out" and the third eye popping open. That sort of thing. Anyway, I'd probably go with the more refined voice, as that's what you are mostly using.

“The smell of blood,” I told Tara. “Don’t you feel it?”

This threw me. How do you feel a smell?

 

[BetaWolf]

Okay, GS, let me answer you first:

Ha! There you go. Opposite takes from two of the more insightful reviewers (IMHO) on the Chrons.

I can't disagree with that. And you're not so bad yourself.

This threw me. How do you feel a smell?

I'm trying to show how telepathy (might) work. It's a bit technological and a bit paranormal. Anyway, he smells blood. He's able to channel his senses to whoever is touching him.

But yeah, 'smell' is definitely a better word choice! I think this section is from the middle of the story, so I'll be sure to explain this better.

I'm glad the sensory-impaired descriptions worked for you. I've had eye problems in the past myself, and worked with blind students, but I wasn't sure how I was coming across.

As for voice, I imagine he's an older adolescent, fifteen or so, who has been in training as a mystic with Larissa, so he's got this professional side, but he's also a pretty excitable kid. Tara is fun to write, but in this scene (either version), she's the only non-telepath present, so she's not having too much fun. Is she the best POV here or should I tell it from the kid who can only see the spirit world?

*******

@Victoria: thanks for the positive take on my story. Both sides of it, actually. I wasn't sure whether to tell this as young Jonas the blind seer or from his companion's POV (who is wondering what the heck is going on). I haven't done much fantasy writing, so here's my first swing at it.

******

@springs: I'm sorry the second section wasn't clear enough. My questions to explore were, can I write a blind character convincingly? The telepathy is kind of strange the way I'm describing it. Is that what was unclear to you? It's a strange ability, and my POV character doesn't know what is going on exactly himself. If you could, let me know how I could make it clearer for my readers.

******

@tecdavid: thank you for the detailed critique. A few years have passed since "Lady Tara of the Hydra." Now I'm focusing more on his story (maybe YA?) as a teenager who's trying to find out his place. I needed more details on the description in the section you critiqued. I was trying to describe in too few words an overgrown ruin. Then I popped a tree stump in when I needed to pretty jerkily.

 

[Jo Zebedee]

First time I've been called insightful, thanks, Glister. Actually, when I read the first it made sense of the second, but coming at the second cold, when I tried to crit it, I got in a muddle. I think, looking at it, it might have been the amount of veil words, especially early, so i heard Tara said, i felt, I could sense... Thing is as seeing characters we try to avoid those veils to keep us in the action, so doesn't it stand to reason a blind person would too?

So Tara said seems more effective than I heard Tara say, or I fell and the rough stone rubbed my knees rather than I felt the stone beneath me.

So, perhaps for me, it was a false distance from the action that got in the way of me being with the character and not being with him meant some disengagement which meant I couldn't get into the scene?

 

[BetaWolf]

Okay, that's very helpful, springs. I can see where I overplayed that because my narrator was blind.

I abandoned first person initially because I was writing "I" too much, instead of just writing what was happening, if that makes sense.

 

[Abernovo]

Hi BetaWolf.
This is well-written. I've commented on the first section, as I found the second a little more difficult to get into.
This certainly piqued my interest, though. I noticed a couple of things, right at the beginning. They're just my opinions, though, so feel free to take them with a pinch of salt. Anyway, they're minor issues, at best.

The temple complex stretched out as far as the eye could see. The fountains, pavement, and buildings were all done in white marble, but Tara knew that Jonas saw more than just tumbled-down piles of stone.

Her more youthful companion was transfixed by the entire landscape. Colors, smells, and textures jumped at him from every angle and direction, and he reflected these sensations back to her, but in a diminished form. With her own eyes, Tara could see only cold marble, cracked in some places and entirely stripped off the buildings in others. But at the same time, another dimension was present, vibrant in color, and dancing like shadows around a flickering flame.

'more youthful' here felt a little clunky to me. Has it been established previous to this that he's younger? Do you need it here?

Glisterspeck pointed out that it seemed as if there was some sort of telepathy going on here. That's fine, but why is Tara then surprised later when Jonas can read her mind, and when the 'other' thoughts take her over. It might simply be that we're reading this out of wider context, but it made me go, 'huh?'. A minor problem, if it is indeed a problem. Easily fixed.

“Jonas,” she said. He made no response, so she said his name again and shook him gently at the shoulder. Then again, harder. “Jonas. . . . Jonas,” she said, drawing out the syllables in his name.

Perhaps me, but I thought this might be ever so slightly tightened. Do you need the final speech attribution? If, instead, you showed her drawing out the syllables of his name, it might make it a little more immediate for me.

I'd read more of this. Best of luck with it.

 

[BetaWolf]

Thanks, Abernovo, for those comments. I'm writing a few stories with the same main characters, with Tara as the MC and Jonas a bit of a sidekick. He is a decade or so younger than she is, so I was trying to establish that in my mind at least.

The telepathy thing is something I'm working on, so thanks for giving me your response to it. Some more backstory: She knows at this point that he has some odd powers, but he's starting to play around with things he can't quite control. He's also been hiding that he can read her thoughts. The little *******.

I'll have to think over whether that plot point is working or not. Thanks again for the comments and encouragement.