Hello, and thank you for taking a look at my story. This is the first time I've written anything for the public, so I'm sure people can give me some pointers. I would love to hear everyone's constructive criticism, but please, don't just tell me my story sucks. Tell me why it sucks, so I can make it not suck. Just remember, I'm just a guy who wants to be a writer, so don't just be a dream crusher, help me make my work better. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review.
As the tall, pale, young elf stood in front of the cave's entrance, starring into it with her piercing green eyes, the light reflecting off of the golden flecks scattered through her startling irises, her jet black hair whipping in the wind, she could not help but return to that fateful day, twenty years ago.
She was celebrating with her clan under the full moon, as every other Moon Elf would be tonight, for it was the night of the full moon. It should be a pleasant occasion, but Venethiel felt a chill on the back of her neck. She also noticed that a strange silence had fallen over the area, as if the entire forest was holding it's breath. The only noise was that of her elven compatriots. She tried to ignore the feelings and continue to celebrate, but she could not concentrate. She told her mother she was going for a walk and started away from the encampment. As she entered the forest, she noticed several pairs of glowing red eyes.
'They could belong to some of the others,' she thought.
Then she realized that everyone else was celebrating. They could not belong to others of her clan. She decided to turn back, but not to go running and screaming. If she did that, and the eyes belonged to enemies, she may provoke them to attack her or her clan. She had no weapons with her, and her clan was woefully unprepared for an attack of any sort. She started calmly toward her clan's camp, pretending not to have noticed that anything was amiss. As soon as she reached camp, she searched for her mother. She found her talking with a group of other adults.
"Mother, there are things in the forest. I saw their eyes, and they can see in the infrared spectrum, like an elf. But we are all here," Venethiel whispered urgently to her Mother.
"I'm sure it's nothing. Don't worry you little head," her mother said back calmly.
"Will you at least ask some of the others to carry a blade, for safety?" she asked.
"Fine, if it will put you mind at ease," her mother huffed.
"Also, could I please have my own sword, and a bow?" Venethiel begged her "I think I'm old enough now."
Her mother looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. She led her to a small tent, full of assorted weapons. Her mother asked Venethiel to pick what appealed to her. She spotted a pair of swords, with circular handles and guards, and flexible-looking, slightly curved blades made of mithril. She drew the swords and tested them with a few short routines. They felt perfect in her hands, like an extension of her arm, their graceful arks cutting through the air with ease. She then picked out a bow. It was strong and about three quarters as tall as herself, made of ebony, intricate designs etched into the polished black wood.
Just then, Venethiel heard a deafening battle cry and screams of surprise and distress. The clashing of weapons quickly followed. She heard screams of pain, rage, agony, and worst of all, cries of death.
"Run for you lives, it's the Drow!" Someone screamed.
She rushed outside to help. It was utter chaos, with skirmishes between her clan members and the Dark Elves. A few Dark Elves ran around the camp unchecked, and were slaughtering the defenseless. Venethiel rushed up to one of them and engaged him in combat. She was hard-pressed to keep herself alive, let alone go on the offensive. Then, the dark elf disarmed her and knocked her to the ground. The dark elf lifted his blade, his eyes hungering for her death. Then the dark elf fell back, dead, an arrow in his neck. She turned and saw her mother standing behind her, bow in hand. Then, she saw something in the shadows behind her. She tried to warn her, but it was to late. The dark elf stabbed both swords through her back, and Venethiel watched the light leave her mother's green eyes. Someone pulled her to her feet and rushed her toward the edge of the clearing, where a few warriors were herding the young out of the camp. She heard a sound like a crossbow, but quieter, and the person who helped her went down behind her, but she kept running. She heard the clash of blades and cries of battle behind her as she rushed down the woodland path, never looking back.
Venethiel pushed away the painful memory and looked at the cave, steeling her nerves. Just as Venethiel started toward the cave, she heard someone running at her from behind. She turned to see her only friend, Nionwen, running down the path toward her. Nionwen was a tall, tan sun elf. She had golden eyes and hair, and since Venethiel had met her, Nionwen had saved her from disaster many a time.
"Are you insane?" Nionwen shouted, still running up the trail "You know that you wouldn't survive one day down there!"
"Honestly, I don't care," Venethiel stated flatly. "I finally found a way to avenge my fallen kin, and I will avenge them now, or die trying."
"Then I'm following you, and you can't stop me," she retorted. "I'll not let you go on a suicide mission alone."
"Fine, come if you want, but don't slow me down," Venethiel replied.
As soon as her sun elf friend had caught up with her, Venethiel stepped into the cave. As her foot passed through the mouth of the cave, an ear-shattering explosion shook the land, and Venethiel felt herself become weightless. She heard Nionwen scream and saw her get blasted into the nearby woods. Then everything went black, and she felt nothing.
That's the first chapter, and I hope you enjoyed. In case you didn't guess, Venethiel's chosen weapons are Katanas and a longbow. I hope to get the next chapter up soon, since I'm not doing much else, but school tends to get in the way of things.