Hi! Call me Aelphaba or Ael, whatever you please X3
This is the thread for the collection of my writings, including short stories and some poetry. I'm not the best writer, so I would like some constructive criticism on my works.
My poems and stories are more of a random bursts of inspiration, so most of them aren't gonna be "continued" [unless I wasn't finished with them] or made into novels. I never received criticism on my work before, so I'm never gonna know whether my writing's good or bad, until now, at least.
Note: As of January 16, I changed the title from "aelphaba's anthology" to the title of the latest story/poem.
.:: Δʋтʋми'ƨ Ɯяɛαтн ::.
Prologue
"Mother?" I asked, but no reply ever came. "Mother?" I repeated.
Silence.
Suddenly, I heard faint, yet audible cries, all shouting the same thing. "Wolves! Wolves!" The voices said. I wasn't scared, of course. It merely might be a joke. Until the howls came. I shivered violently, not because it was the start of winter, but also, I was terrified of wolves. I was unsure of what to do, so ran for the closet. I don't know whether it was a coincidence or not, but the candle also went off, then everything was shrouded in darkness, except the moon's radiant glow coming from the windows, making slanted bars of light across the floor,
I can hear my heart beating wildly in my chest, slamming against my rib cage. My breath started to materialize in the frigid, winter air. Something wet slid down my cheek; I didn't know whether it was sweat or tears, or maybe both. I didn't even care to brush it off, it didn't matter. I have to know where my mother is, and what was going on. The howls then became as equally as loud as the bloodcurdling shrieks and screams of the other people.
Then came the footsteps and the troubled breathing. I didn't know if it was the soft, pads of a wolf's feet and its foamy mouth, or the tattered leather boots of an elf with the deep wounds of wolves' claws embedded on his throat.
"Ada?" A very familiar, but unusually distressed murmur said. "please, where are you?" It said between heavy, lingering wheezes. I wanted to rush out of there and into the safety of my mother's embrace, but then I realized I was too paralyzed with fear to move, let alone respond. I can see slight movement in the gloom from the gap from the nearly closed cabinet.
In a blink of an eye, all I saw were a wolf's bared fangs and claws gleaming from the light of the moon, thirsting for human flesh, then my mother's last, helpless cry.
"Please, don't eat her!" I finally said, hoarsely, but the wolf acted as if it never heard. My weak mother, underneath a wolf that was probably tearing her to pieces now. I can see blood. "No!" I begged again, but I didn't move.
Finally, the wolf turned its head, and then it looked at me directly in the eyes. Its eyes were green, like hers, but not like the regular eyes of wolves.
It was the eyes of a human.
-- --
She sat up on her bed, her eyes filled with fear. She was breathing heavily, with tear-stained cheeks and hands clammy with sweat.
She thought she had forgotten all about that fateful day, the elven massacre set upon by humans and the death of her mother. Her childhood trauma.
Until now.
Chapter 1
The autumn breeze plucked the last of the yellowing leaves from their barren branches. Slowly, they began to twirl in the air, slowly descending upon the forest floor.
A foot started to tread upon the dead leaves; the soft crunching sound of every step filled the air.
A woman seemingly came out from the trees, as beautiful and magnificent as the autumn itself. She had a nearly opalescent face with pale, translucent green emeralds for eyes. Bright red tresses framed her face. She donned a long, black cloak around her body, but a sudden gust of air made the hood fell back to reveal her thin, pointy ears.
She was an elf. No, correction, half-elf and half-human.
Hurriedly, she put her hood back on, clutching it tightly on either sides of her face. Fearing that a hunter was nearby, she hid behind an elm tree, trying to recollecting her composure. She might have the royal ring of protection from the palace, but what if a hunter didn't recognize her? They could simply shoot her down with a crossbow or slay her with a sword, like the cornered hare she was. With a jolt of panic she started to run, but the thick, uneven layer of dead leaves made it hard. Oh, if she was back at the Great Elven Village she would be leisurely playing a harp or crafting small, wooden figures for her friends, but in this part of the world, she was defenseless and vulnerable. Still running, she did not see the usual, slightly arched tree root and tripped on it, she fell flat on her face. She hated the dead leaves because they were such a nuisance, but she was also grateful for it, because they cushioned her fall.
Yet, she did not notice the horse that galloped to her, and the rider upon it.
A foot started to tread upon the dead leaves; the soft crunching sound of every step filled the air.
A woman seemingly came out from the trees, as beautiful and magnificent as the autumn itself. She had a nearly opalescent face with pale, translucent green emeralds for eyes. Bright red tresses framed her face. She donned a long, black cloak around her body, but a sudden gust of air made the hood fell back to reveal her thin, pointy ears.
She was an elf. No, correction, half-elf and half-human.
Hurriedly, she put her hood back on, clutching it tightly on either sides of her face. Fearing that a hunter was nearby, she hid behind an elm tree, trying to recollecting her composure. She might have the royal ring of protection from the palace, but what if a hunter didn't recognize her? They could simply shoot her down with a crossbow or slay her with a sword, like the cornered hare she was. With a jolt of panic she started to run, but the thick, uneven layer of dead leaves made it hard. Oh, if she was back at the Great Elven Village she would be leisurely playing a harp or crafting small, wooden figures for her friends, but in this part of the world, she was defenseless and vulnerable. Still running, she did not see the usual, slightly arched tree root and tripped on it, she fell flat on her face. She hated the dead leaves because they were such a nuisance, but she was also grateful for it, because they cushioned her fall.
Yet, she did not notice the horse that galloped to her, and the rider upon it.
- I am preparing a part 2 of this one, this time from the rider's perspective, but I won't continue until somebody comments on my work. The plot will be explained furthermore.
I am sorry for any grammar and/or spelling mistakes =]
UPDATE! As of January 20, I decided to add a prologue =]
[edit 1: heh heh, some grammar mistake, but nothing majorly was changed]
