[Watchers of the Shadow] Synopsis

Prologue and part one of the first chapter is finally posted~ :'D

Watchers of the Shadow (tentative title) is a fantasy novel I'm working on. It is my first attempt at a novel, so any suggestions and comments are very, very welcome!! (Please? :'D) 

The story started off during this year's NaNoWriMo, but of course I did not finish it...... I was truly unprepared. Still, the attempt improved my writing significantly, and I think I have a clearer direction on the novel than I did before. Even so, what I am posting is the first draft! There may be many areas where I may have made grammatical mistakes and so forth, or I where the description is too static etc. Finding the best POV to write scenes is also sometimes a point of trouble for me... :'D Thus, critiques are loved~

Here is a tentative synopsis:

Avaris Etruscian is the youngest prince of Shaerone. Since the queen's death, he has fallen to a mysterious sickness that is slowly but surely taking its toll on his body. Even so, he has been sent to Belara as a sacrifice to help maintain the already strained peace between the two countries. But, there are dark currents brewing in his own country that he had not been aware of, and his company is attacked in the border. Pursued and driven close to death, he breaks through part of the centuries-old seal on magic, rediscovering a power that may just be what could save him––and let loose an ancient evil back into the world.

[Watchers of the Shadow] Chapter One (part 1)

            The bells tolled.

            Deep reverberating peals and the soft tinkle of chimes intertwined into a lament that could be heard for leagues around: from the towering spires and sprawling buildings of the city, to the terraced fields of the low hills surrounding, and to the thick forests far north. For a moment, the bellsong was all that could be heard. Birds quieted. The wailing wind  paused, as if holding its breath. There was only the song of bells, a song of mourning and tragedy.

            Avaris pulled back on his reins, turning back to look towards the south where the bellsong came, and where the city of Nessa stood. They were already half a day away, having set off at first light, yet they could still hear every sorrowful note clearly. Absently, he fingered the blue sapphire drop studded in his right earlobe as he did when worried. It had been his mother’s once, and usually her memory was enough to comfort him when he was troubled. But, this time, his unease only grew.

            I’ve never heard the bells sing so sorrowfully, he thought worriedly. It was a bad omen, on the first day of his journey. The bells were relics from an age of magic centuries past, found in the old abandoned buildings that have now become the thriving city of Nessa. Untouched, the bells would ring at precisely midday: every song different, but each, Avaris knew, a foretelling. Perhaps not many believed in the magic of the bells—or magic at all, for that matter—but Avaris believed,  and the bellsong worried him. What could it mean?

[Watchers of the Shadow] Prologue

King Zerain Malzareth, the fifth king of Shaerone, studied the dagger almost disinterestedly, his hard, lined face unreadable. The palm length blade was coated with dried, dark blood that crusted the plain linen that wrapped the hilt. But even so, he knew that the edge would be as sharp as the day it had been forged. A thick, gnarled finger traced the engraved “S” in the cold steel above the guard. Only one forgery would mark their creations so. He placed the dagger back down in front of him on the polished mahogany table, and he leaned forward, dark obsidian eyes fixed on the man kneeling on the crimson and gold embroidered rug on the dark stone floors of his study.  “What,” he said coldly. “is the meaning of this, Delos?”

Despite his bristly beard and tall, heavy build, Delos was only past his twenty-fifth name day, yet he held himself with a confidence that few would have been able to manage under the king’s hard gaze. He wore a mantle of dark sable fur over a silk, black tunic embroidered with fine silver thread. Heavy rings inset with colorful gems adorned several of his fingers, and a golden band around his temples with a dark amethyst that that hung between thick, low brows. Thick, dark black hair ended in curls at his strong jaw, set firmly and tilted high and proudly as he looked up at his king with dark, defiant eyes. “It was but only a small matter,” he said dismissively, his smooth voice with only the thinnest veneer of respect. “The peasants—”

“—Would not have a dagger made in the Saephes forge.” Zerain cut him off impatiently, eyes narrowing dangerously. “This was brought to me by the Belaran delegation. What was this doing in the ruins of a Belaran village?”

Prologue: Prelude

He should have listened when his ma told him he shouldn’t poke his nose into things when he didn’t have to.

Sam shook, holding both hands over his mouth to smother his whimpers. His small frame was huddled on the ground behind an armchair in the far corner of the study. He sent prayers up to the Goddess with promises that he’d be good and listen to his ma from now on. His heart felt as if it would beat itself out of his small chest. He tried to make himself smaller as the arguing voices grew louder from the other side.

“—foolish to wait any longer,” the crown prince was saying, deep bass voice quivering with anger. “Why do we wait?”

“And do you think that war will solve anything?” The king said impatiently. “Do you know nothing? Delos, war when our land is facing famine goes beyond idiocy.”

“We can plunder and pillage, and enslave those Belaran dogs to farm the lands we take to feed our army. We could—”

He heard a loud thud. “I said no Delos,” the king roared. He had hit the table, Sam guessed. “I am king, not you, and I say there shall be no war. You are dismissed, son.”

Delos took a deep breath. His voice was suddenly dangerously flat. “Father, I was only—”

“Dismissed.”

There was a long silence. Sam could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the anteroom as each second went by. He didn’t even dare to breathe.