Welcome to Gaia! ::

Okay people, so basically I've had this same story posted in another thread outside the guild, and though I've been getting some pretty rave reviews, I haven't had enough HELPFUL criticism (although there were some) so that's really what I need from you. Just posting the Prologue and Chapter 1 for now, please comment, and give me some good critiquing!

~tomboygirl16

Chapter 1:

"Michaeli. Michaeli."

Michaeli paused in mid-swing as she heard her name being called, and as a result got hit in the shin by the softball she'd been trying to hit a grandslam with. "Oww!" she cried, dropping down to clutch her knee, but the pain was already gone. Puzzled, she straightened, looking around to see who had called her name.

"Michaeli." she heard it again, more insistent this time.
She frowned. It sounded like her mom, but she couldn't be here now. Michaeli had come down to the park to play a game of softball, and her mom had agreed to pick her up at 5:30 P.M., but it was only 4:00 P.M. right now. But wait, that didn't really make sense. Michaeli didn't even like playing softball. How the hell did I end up getting into a game of softball? She wondered. Hell if I can remember.

Suddenly, she felt a sudden pressure on her nose, and she tried to draw a breath through it, but couldn't. Something was cutting off her air, and she panicked and opened her mouth to take a deep breath-

And sat up in bed, gasping for air. Her mother sat next to her on the edge of her bed, an amused look on her face, and Michaeli glared at her as she realized her mother had pinched her nose, cutting of her oxygen, forcing her to open her mouth and breathe, and thereby waking her up. The whole softball thing had just been a dream.

"Mom!" Michaeli yelled, rubbing her nose. She'd pinched it hard. "How could you!?"

Her mother simply shrugged, and reached out with one finger and pushed her daughter back against her pillows. "I had to wake you up somehow." she replied. "Now sit back and relax, you're still not that well yet."

Michaeli sighed, but let herself sink back into the pillows propped up against the headboard of her bed. Her mother was right; she was feeling better, but she was definitely still tired from fighting the flu. "Yeah, but my fever's been going down steadily. We're at 99.6 right now, and still dropping." she said, grinning a bit.

Her mother smoothed some of Michaeli's black hair back from her face, hair the same color as her own. "Yes, you're definitely getting better." she agreed, smiling. "However, you still need your rest. Now, the reason I woke you is because I wanted to talk to you about something.

Michaeli sat up straighter. She had a bad feeling about this. "Which is?" she asked.

"Your father is going on a business trip to California this weekend." she told her. "And I'm coming along with him."

Michaeli shrugged. "Cool." she said. "So you guys go fly to the other side of the U.S. and I'll just chill here for a bit." She grinned. There were already tons of ideas flying through her head about what she would do while her parents were gone. Maybe just keep a box of oreos and milk by her bed and play Final Fantasy VII, all three disks, from beginning to end without stopping, and then fall asleep on her bed and not wake up for a day or two. She thought to herself. Sounds good.

"No, actually. That's what I came to talk to you about." Michaeli snapped out of her daydream, giving her mother her full, undivided attention. "Your father and I have decided that since you're sick, we don't want you to stay in the house all by yourself. We're sending you to Grandma's for the weekend until we come back to pick you up."

Michaeli's visions of video gaming and anime watching crashed around her, and she shot straight up in bed. "No way, mom! I don't want to stay at Grandma's! I'll be bored stiff!"

"Well, I can't leave you in the house all by yourself. What kind of mom would I be then? I have to take responsibility to make sure you're kept safe." her mother remarked. "Besides, how boring could it be, when you're not really going to be running around anyway, being sick and everything else?"

Michaeli scowled. You have no idea how boring it can be, she thought, and aloud she whined, "But mom, I'm sixteen for cryin' out loud. I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that, most of the time," her mother said. "But you're sick right now, and you need someone to take care of you in case something happens. Besides, I want someone to keep you a little in check while I'm gone. I saw that look in your eyes, the one you get when you're plotting something your father and I wouldn't normally let you do, like eating oreo cookies and playing video games all night."

"I was not plotting!" Michaeli protested, lying through her teeth. Her mother knew her far too well. Her aunts and uncles always told her she was a lot like her mother when she was a teen as well.

Her mother shrugged. "Whatever you say. Either way, you're going. I know you don't like it, but that's the decision, and we've already called your Grandmother about it. She's all excited about it and probably running around in the kitchen right now, cooking up dinner. Do you really want to disappoint her and tell her you're not coming because you think she's boring and would rather stay at home?" her mother asked, looking her straight in the eye.

"Well...no...but still..." Michaeli squirmed as she looked away, not entirely able to confront her mother.

Her mother rolled her eyes and smacked her on the arm. "Oh please. It won't be so bad." When Michaeli continued to look gloomy, she added, "She's making spaghetti with meatballs, lasagna, gellato..."

Michaeli whipped her head back around to face her mother. "Chocolate?"

"Probably." her mother said, nodding. "Freshly made, by a true Italian mama." Michaeli's mouth was starting to water. Her grandmother was an exceptionally good Italian cook, being Italian herself, and made the best gellato.

"I guess it wouldn't be so bad, going to Grandma's." she replied. Her mother smacked her on the arm again, laughing.

"You're such a sleezeball!" she exclaimed, brown eyes sparkling with mirth. "Exactly like me," she added, and then they both laughed. "All right, so I'm going to leave you so you can get ready and pack what you need," she said, once their laughter had abated. "I've already packed your clothes and toiletries while you were in your coma, so it's up to you to decide whatever else you need," she'd made a sarcastic comment about how Michaeli tended to sleep like the dead, and wasn't the easiest to wake either. "We're leaving in three hours," she said, and left the room, leaving Michaeli alone.

"Okay." Michaeli said to thin air, and threw back the comforter, swinging her legs off the side of her bed. She stretched her arms and back, and then stood up.

15 minutes later, she was all showered and clothed, and she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing out her wet hair. It was long, black and curly, like her mothers, but not as thick. I look more like mom than dad, that's for sure, she thought, studying her reflection. She had her mother's dark skin, small face, and black hair, but her nose was narrower than her mother's, who had a rounder, slightly squashed nose from a time she'd gotten punched in the face from a fist fight when she was 12. That was what her mother had said anyway. Michaeli could believe it. Her mother was a wild child when she was younger. She had neither her mother or father's eyes though, they were a beautiful hazel color, which didn't really make sense. Her father's eyes were blue, and her mother's were brown, so technically she should have brown eyes, shouldn't she? Unless one of mom's parents had blue eyes, but she didn't think that was the case. She shrugged. She didn't really mind. Her eyes made her look unique.

Finished, she pulled her hair back into a pony tail so it wouldn't drip all over her hooded red sweatshirt. Her hands were wet, so she wiped them on her white cargo pants, and then went back into her room. She read for a long while, simply laying on her bed, and then threw the book, as well as her iPod, some DvD's, her notebook, and some more books into her backpack. All packed, she thought wearily, and lay back on the bed, closing her eyes. I'm so tired.... she thought sleepily. I think I'll just rest for awhile. Mom'll come and wake me up when it's time to go. Being sick really takes it out of you...

And she fell asleep, forgetting all about the trip, not knowing anything about what lay in store for her.

* * *

Princess Marion sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Something had woken her, and she looked around, trying to figure out what it could have been. She was a light sleeper, and woke easily, even if it was just because of a mouse scurrying across the floor.

Sighing, she lay her head back against her pillows, sinking back into them. She decided it must have been a mouse, for she didn't sense anything anymore. She grimaced, knowing her mother would have a field day if she learned there were mice in her room. Her mother hated mice. Marion didn't understand what the fuss was all about. They were just animals, easily as afraid of her mother as her mother was afraid of them. She could imagine having to spend the night in one of her sister's rooms just so that the castle servants could tear apart her room and ferret out the vermin. Marion really hated it when they moved around her things. It became nigh impossible to find anything after that.

Throwing back the covers, the princess got out of bed, not feeling like going back to sleep. Her footfalls were silenced by the thick, plush carpet as she walked, and she drew back the curtain, looking out the window. She looked out at the distant hills, beyond the courtyard and the great maze, and her eyes rested on the treetops of her uncle's forest. She longed to go back; she loved spending time in that forest, and she loved her uncle, and her cousin too. But she knew her mother would disapprove. She was getting older now, well past the age of getting married, and it just wasn't proper for her to be romping in the forest anymore, like a child. And besides, her mother and uncle didn't get along very well together anymore; there was a reason her mother ruled the country and her uncle ruled the forests. They could hardly stay in the same room together, let alone rule a country together in harmony!

Suddenly, she felt a prickly sensation along her spine as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she felt the thrill of fear as she realized someone was watching her. She tried to spin around, but someone grabbed her round the waist and she was crushed to the chest of a large man, stinking of sweat and unwashed clothing. She gagged at the smell, and then let out a piercing scream, which was smothered by the man pressing a cloth over her mouth and nose. She breathed in, without meaning to, which was a fatal mistake. Her vision swam, and everything went dark as she started feeling woozy. Before she knew it, she was unconscious, and saw no more, heard no more, and spoke no more.


* * *


"Bye dad." Michaeli said, hugging him tight. They were in her grandmother's living room, and her parents were just about to leave, having eaten already. They had all ended up staying, despite her dad's protests, since her mom, like her, loved food, and her grandmother had outdone herself with her sumptuous Italian cooking. She felt full and sleepy, having just stuffed herself, of course.

"We'll see you soon." her dad said, rubbing her back affectionately. "Just get better. Fast."

"Of course, dad. I will." Michaeli replied, stepping back. She sighed inwardly. She would definitely be sleeping a lot over the weekend.

"You'd better. No goofing around." her mother warned, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. "Or else I'll tell your grandmother about the oreos in your backpack, and you know how she feels about junk food."

"When did you--?" Michaeli asked, stepping back from her mother, but she didn't bother finishing the sentence. Her mother knew her well enough to know she'd carry oreos with her. She scowled, and her mother just laughed. "Fine." she said, grinning a bit, and ignoring the look in her father's puzzled blue eyes.

"Good girl." her mother told her, patting her on the head. We'll see you in a week. Don't give your grandmother a hard time."

Her father looked at his watch, and he paled, his face becoming whiter than normal. "We're going to be late if we don't leave now!" he grabbed his wife by the arm, ushering her out the door. "The plane leaves in two hours! Bye honey!" he called behind him as he ran out the door, slamming it behind him. Michaeli heard him start up the car and drive away, unaware that perhaps they would be away for longer than she thought.

* * *

Michaeli pushed open the attic door, wincing at the loud creaking noise it made as the door swung open on it's hinges. Obviously they hadn't been oiled in awhile. She'd been watching TV on the couch downstairs, enjoying herself, when her grandmother had started singing some Italian opera at the top of her voice, totally ruining the show. So she'd decided to go explore the attic, which she hadn't been in since she was a little girl.

It was a big, musty old attic, full of boxes and crates, with cobwebs in every possible place you could find a cobweb. There were boxes and crates everywhere, and some old wooden furniture and antique items as well. Michaeli saw a crystal ball sitting atop a small round table covered in a very dusty purple velvet cloth, and was reminded of her grandmother's love for mystical objects.

She began rummaging around through the crates and boxes, looking through things. She found clothing, baby toys, books that were really ancient, and other various things, some of which Michaeli couldn't figure out for her life what their use was. Reaching into a crate, she pulled out a large silver, diamond studded cross. She blinked at it in surprise, wondering why her grandmother would keep such an expensive thing locked away. Normally she liked to flaunt such things.

She shrugged, throwing it aside, and stood, looking for something else. Something suddenly caught her eye, and she turned, looking toward a corner of the attic. Leaning against the wall was a stick-like object, wrapped in brown paper and cobwebs. Michaeli cautiously made her way over toward it, careful not to step on or trip over anything. She picked up the packaged object, brushing off the cobwebs with a hand. Grasping it by the end, she could feel through the paper that she held the hilt of a sword. It was a rather heavy weapon, heavier than what she was used to, but that wasn't surprising to Michaeli. All swords tended to be heavier than they looked.

Along the brown paper, written in permanent ink, was CAUTION: OBJECT INSIDE IS DANGEROUSLY SHARP. DO NOT OPEN. Michaeli raised an eyebrow. Of course it’s sharp, it’s a sword! she thought impatiently, ripping open the paper. But that doesn't make it dangerous to open. Does it?

She tossed aside the paper, letting it fall to the ground, and held up the sword in the fading beam of light shining through the dust covered attic window, illuminating the dust motes in the air. It was a work of art only a master sword smith could have accomplished. The scabbard was of a relatively simple design; glossy black, with gold wire decorating it in a filigree pattern. The sword had a gold pommel, and the hilt was wrapped in gold wire as well. She drew the sword, slowly pulling it from the scabbard, and held it up to the light. The silvery metal glinted at her, but the blade seemed dull and unpolished.

It's a broadsword, and a magnificent one too, once it's been polished and sharpened up a bit, she thought appreciatively, running a finger along the edge of the blade. I don't understand the warning on the wrapping paper though. This blade isn't sharp enough to cut soft butter!

Suddenly then, the metal of the blade rippled, and shimmered in the light. The edge turned razor sharp, and Michaeli abruptly pulled back her finger, which had been cut, sticking it in her mouth. Guess I was wrong... she thought, more than a little surprised. This blade was no longer the same as it had been a minute ago. It glowed blue, emitting a light all on it's own, and words formed on the blade in flowing script, written in a language Michaeli didn't understand. She watched as her blood, shimmering red on the blade, become absorbed, as though being sucked in by a sponge.

The sword flared red then, and Michaeli shielded her eyes with her forearm. A sudden blast of energy knocked her off her feet and she slammed into the wall, hitting her head hard. She blacked out automatically, seeing nothing but darkness, and didn't think anymore.

x] I'm only going to make one comment right now, and it's that I think you could bring in the entrance of the Wizard a little more gradually. It feels really.. sudden. Heck, just split the sentence and make it two and maybe revise the second sentence so that you give the location first, then talk about the Wizard.

Something like..

"Through the opening in the roof of the Seventh Circle Temple, the Wizard looked up at the night sky. The stars shone as usual, but even they held less radiance than usual. It was like there was some sort of conspiracy going on with the weather.

The Wizard held the sword in both hands over the altar, hesitating as he wavered in his decision. The Seventh Circle Temple was a holy, sacred ground, a place for prayers to the good spirits, but he had not come to pray to the good spirits tonight. Was it really right to perform this rite when so much power lay at risk?..(etc).

Who is this Wizard? Why is he THE Wizard? Does that mean there's only one Wizard in your book then? If there's going to be more than one, you should just use 'a wizard.'

Hope that helped ^_~

And on a random note.. oO; You might want to watch out. When you're separating a quote from text, it should be with a comma, not with a period, so it should be something like:

"Cool," she said. "So you guys could........"

"Probably," her mother said, nodding.

etc. Yes, it's true that you don't need to use a comma if it's with an action that isn't speaking (such as nodding or squirming), but if you have some sort of word that describes a person speaking, you want to include the comma. ^_~