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altogetherisi) wrote2011-01-24 05:24 pm
Bit of writing
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Mert’s eyes snapped open suddenly, and he stumbled backwards and fell over.
Hours before, he had gone to sleep in the four poster bed across the room, but now for the second time this week he found himself abruptly awake in a different part of his bedroom.
Three days ago, he had come awake to find his wardrobe destroyed – the pale wood blackened and charred, and in places reduced entirely to ash. Then, the clothes that had been inside it were damaged only in that now some had a fine coating of ash, but otherwise, they remained pristine and untouched, completely oblivious to their home being annihilated.
This time, Mert was at the window, and all the glass was gone. A breeze came in now, as well as the grey light that was the advance guard of the sunrise, and that had been the first thing Mert was aware of upon waking up. The breeze, followed by the half step back that had him trip and on his backside staring stupidly at the empty space where the glass had been the night before, and all the days preceding then that he could remember.
At least there were no glass shards on the floor. Mert was only wearing pyjama bottoms, so glass shards could be of serious concern, but either the glass had broken outwards or it had disappeared entirely.
Mert bent his head forward so that his chin almost touched his collar bone, closed his eyes, and breathed out slowly. Opening his eyes, he ran a hand through his blonde hair, and looked for the dark stars he knew would be floating nearby.
They had been hovering in a cloud behind him mostly, carefully not blocking Mert’s view of the gaping window, but now he acknowledged them the little things swarmed forward to float mainly in the space immediately in front of Mert’s body. A few meandered up to the window frame, and out of it, and a couple landed on Mert’s hand and slipped into him, fading away with little fuss.
They weren’t really dark stars of course – when Mert’s magic manifested like this it mostly looked like dots of dark oil refusing to merge with water, or with paler oil, or in this case with the air they were floating in. But when he was younger Mert had associated flecks of darkness in an otherwise light room with the flecks of light in an otherwise dark sky, and the name had stuck. Now, he sighed impatiently as most of them hovered like a cloud of shadow awaiting instruction instead of fading away back into his skin. Instruction was the last thing he would be giving them. Instead, he gave a slightly impatient mental tug and they settled down, the dark shading disappearing into Mert’s fair skin.
Only when he was sure all the dark stars had gone did Mert get to his feet and inspect the now bare window frame. Nothing seemed broken, and squinting down at the courtyard three stories beneath he couldn’t spot the twinkle of any glass shards. If the window had been broken into pieces that had then floated upwards it wasn’t Mert’s problem. He only had to be concerned about inanimate consequences. Any animate ones were their own problem now.
The next problem however was that Mert really didn’t want to attempt to fix the window, but it would certainly be expected of him. He couldn’t go to Orpa straight away and ask her to do it without at least pretending to have tried using his own magic first, as much as Mert really didn’t want to. At the thought of this, the magic in the base of his skull throbbed greedily and his arms trembled. Mert himself felt sick.
Three days before, he had attempted to repair the wardrobe. His magic had, instead, gleefully turned five of the formerly pristine shirts to ash before he could prevent it, despite leaving them untouched during the primary assault on the wardrobe.
This time, Mert gingerly placed one hand on the remaining wooden window frame and held the other in the space where the glass should have been. He breathed evenly and tried to keep his heartbeat steady even as within him his magic strummed and vibrated with excitement within him. Mert thought about how the window should have looked, and let a small amount of his magic rush to the surface of his hands and out into the air of the window.
This magic wasn’t as dark as the dark stars had been, so the cloud they formed in the window space looked more like a very localised thick grey fog than a shadow. Perhaps if Mert had been trying to make a curtain rather than a pane it would have worked.
The magic hung there, in the space where the glass wasn’t, faking docility, for a moment of calm.
Mert breathed.
The fog of magic rushed outwards like an iris expanding and sank into the wood of the window frame. Where Mert’s hand was touching the frame, darts of magic forced their way through his flesh and out of the other side. It did not sink obediently back into him. It stung through his left hand, and regardless of Mert’s mental tugging at it would not be reeled back in.
Mert could only watch as the window frame was destroyed. First the paint chipped and flaked away, and then faster, the wood blackened and curled in on itself. There was no fire, and no smoke, but Mert watched as the window frame seemed to become burnt in front of him, and crumble to ash beneath his fingers. With nothing remain holding them up, the curtains fell and puddled in a heap of cloth at his feet.
This was one of the reasons Mert generally avoided performing magic.
Mert sighed, and turned away for the bloody thing. He didn’t need this – not on today of all days.
Perhaps, Mert hoped half heartedly as he dressed, that was the quota of bad things out of the way for now, and the rest of the day would now go perfectly. But he doubted it. The light coming through the hole in the wall was beginning to become a bit brighter now, but the day it belonged to showed no signs of becoming any less uninspiring.
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^_^
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I love the description, particularly the passage where he destroys the window frame and the way his magic hurts him.
one point, this section: 'Then, the clothes that had been inside it were damaged only in that now some had a fine coating of ash, but otherwise, they remained pristine and untouched, completely oblivious to their home being annihilated.'
It doesn't seem to scan very well, took me a few reads to work out what it was saying (also using 'now' suggests they're still unharmed, which you then said they weren't later in the piece) so maybe change the wording there?
But in general I liked it (: and I want more (:
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I think you are right about how that sentence can be confusing for people that don't already know what I'm trying to say. I think if I just remove the "then" and "now" then that makes it a little clearer.
And, I love that icon!
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I rather like the idea that his magic appears to be bent on destruction, too, and that he has very little control over it. Also, there seems to be this sense that it's not just a force he has to learn to control, but an actual sentient being of some sort (almost like he's sharing a body with it, and reluctantly, on both ends of the relationship).
For a rough draft, I quite like this. There are a few little bits that could do with some light editing, but that's for later, after the draft is more complete (so you can catch the nuances and work with things like foreshadowing and identifying themes and such as you do it).
I do hope you continue this--I'd like to read more!
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Yeah, I'm trying to leave my editing hat off and just write at the moment, so I'm sure it could use more than light editing! I suspect that as soon as I actually finish the complete draft I'll start tearing it apart :P
I'm glad you like the descriptions of his magic - I have very clear ideas of how his, and that of other characters, works and looks and feels but I'm always concerned that I'm just going to fail to convey it, or else overcompensate and give the magic too much focus at the expense of other stuff. Mert is an extremely reluctant witch, yes, poor thing.
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*may try to add to this when he's feeling somewhat more inspired, but is at the 'no more crit or my head will explode' stage right now*
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Yay magic! Most witches find it much easier and more fun than Mert. Poor Mert.
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I'm a big fan of introducing characters by showing them in an action that describes what they are like; that's what you've almost managed really well! I'd urge you to consider combining the two parts of the first sentence though to give it more impact. If you can find a way to make it a simple sentence rather than a compound, it would be a stunning first line, because it's already a great introduction. Something like "Mert woke himself when he abruptly fell from the window sill" although NOT that, for that is a little dull. It's just a little more immediate?
Also near the end, you put that Mert was in a bad mood - "not on today of all days". That's something you won't need to tell plainly when you do your light edit of this piece, because it's something you can so easily tie into his actions.
The imagery of this snippet is a good structure, I'm just feeling that this is completely first draft, and that you get out what you want to say and then don't stop at completely the right place in the sentence, if that makes sense. But that's a good way to write because it's so much easier to cut extra words out.
For example,
"The magic hung there, in the space where the glass wasn’t, faking docility, for a moment of calm."
This proves you have such a great sense of vocabulary, but this is something you want to show off. Changing it to,
"The magic hung there in the space where the glass wasn’t, faking docility."
really emphasises your great word choice.
Then as Mert "breathed" (try exhaled - it fits with his reluctance better), this dispels the magic, no "moment of calm" necessary.
Basically, you have some great imagery, a good solid character introduction, all masked by a few extra words here and there which should vanish in a good edit.
...wait, are you sure you wanted more comments on your LJ? I can stalk more quietly in the future.
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Indeed, this is (currently) the first glimpse of Mert. Perhaps I should have mentioned that, lol. This is total first draft, and was written very fast and without the care it really deserved, and when I've finished a complete draft I know there will be lots of editing and reworking, so I'm at this weird stage where I'm simultaneously overprotective of it and slightly unsure whether there's anything good to bother trying to polish. So comments like this are fabulously helpful and encouraging.
By all means, stalk as much as you like :P