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Literature Text
Part Two
Bickering was never his forte. The only way he knew how to solve his problems was physical, most of the times a fight. He didn't mind taking a few blows here and there, that was actually part of the whole "letting out the steam" procedure. But with Rithiell that wasn't a plausible solution.
After him walking away from her and turning at the corner of the bakery on his way to the local tavern of the district, he had stopped in order to calm down his nerves. Without even noticing, he had clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, thinking of what had happened. Why did he ever agree to take this job? He could have found something better. Maybe not as financially rewarding as this, but definitely something he could put his abilities to use. Right now he was just a babysitter for a flamboyant, superficial Qarista noble when he could have been a mercenary in Cutharrn'ach, joining the war against the cults. He could have been-
He felt the impact hard and took a step forward to maintain his balance, his voice raising to a shout.
"What on the flying eagle? Don't you see where you're -"
He was eager for a fight and for a moment he felt his luck was smiling down on him. But when he turned to look at the person who had stumbled upon him, his expression changed from anger to disappointment. He lowered his battle ready fist by his side and sighed. Rithiell was standing in front of him, trying to catch her breath as she was dusting off her pine green velvet cloak. She looked at him wide eyed, in a bewildered state. He couldn't help but chuckle.
"Why are you following me? You're risking to reveal our agreement. Go home, Rithiell."
She furrowed her brows, bringing them close together, her eyes turning into slits, similar to a snake's. Her tongue was as poisonous as one, if not more.
"Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?" she said in an exasperated voice. "I'm the one entitled to give orders here, not you! You're simply a peasant's boy!"
Norick's expression changed instantly. He was getting into some kind of fight, that was certain, but not the one he wished for.
"Watch your mouth, Lady Rithiell. Don't push your luck for it may run out."
He had raised his tone in a threatening way, as the muscles of his body tensed. He glowered at her for a single moment, before turning his back again, walking away steadily.
"Where are you going? Stand still when I'm talking to you!" she shouted, believing that her title would mean something at that moment, that Norick would stop and follow her order to the point. But he didn't. He just kept walking. She followed right behind him and pulled his arm.
"I told you to stand st-"
In a glimpse of a moment, Norick turned and grabbed her from her shoulders, shaking her frail body menacingly. His eyes were glinting with rage.
"Or what?" he growled. "You're going to call the city guards on me? Go ahead then, do it. I dare you."
He relaxed his grasp and stood in front of her, looking straight into her eyes. She didn't move. Nor speak. For several minutes they were just standing there, staring at each other. In the end, it was she who broke the silence.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
He exhaled heavily, as if a burden had just been lifted from his shoulders. He reached for her face, smoothly caressing her cheek.
"I'm sorry as well. I overreacted. But I still can't understand Rithiell. It's still hard for me to process why you're doing what you're doing. I mean-"
"Norick? Do you ever miss it?"
Norick's brows furrowed, as the question was vague for him to follow.
"Miss what?"
"Your country. Your people..."
He withdrew his hand from her and rubbed his forehead tiredly. It was true. He was missing Rhydor a lot. He hated the fact that he had to leave everything behind him, especially his mother. But he had no other choice. He was only one man, unable to stand before the terror of Es Dylah's armies. He left, following his mother's advice. And every passing day he was missing her, and his country, more than anything in the world.
"I do, Rithiell. I miss them a lot. But why are you asking?"
"If you were given the chance to return, would you take it? Would you go?"
There was a sadness in her voice, a quiet beckoning. It was shaking, along with her fragile body. He remained silent for a few moments, then nodded.
"Yes, I would. There is no other place in this world I'd rather be than Harn's End. I would return and fight for my country. I would protect its people from the cultists. I..."
He paused, noticing the swelling in her glistening baby blue eyes before a tear appeared, sliding down her porcelain skin. He smiled sadly and grabbed her hand.
"Come with me."
About an hour later, in a room inside the district's inn, safe from all prying eyes, Norick held Rithiell in his arms and opened his heart to her, revealing his most sacred secret. His heritage.
Bickering was never his forte. The only way he knew how to solve his problems was physical, most of the times a fight. He didn't mind taking a few blows here and there, that was actually part of the whole "letting out the steam" procedure. But with Rithiell that wasn't a plausible solution.
After him walking away from her and turning at the corner of the bakery on his way to the local tavern of the district, he had stopped in order to calm down his nerves. Without even noticing, he had clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, thinking of what had happened. Why did he ever agree to take this job? He could have found something better. Maybe not as financially rewarding as this, but definitely something he could put his abilities to use. Right now he was just a babysitter for a flamboyant, superficial Qarista noble when he could have been a mercenary in Cutharrn'ach, joining the war against the cults. He could have been-
He felt the impact hard and took a step forward to maintain his balance, his voice raising to a shout.
"What on the flying eagle? Don't you see where you're -"
He was eager for a fight and for a moment he felt his luck was smiling down on him. But when he turned to look at the person who had stumbled upon him, his expression changed from anger to disappointment. He lowered his battle ready fist by his side and sighed. Rithiell was standing in front of him, trying to catch her breath as she was dusting off her pine green velvet cloak. She looked at him wide eyed, in a bewildered state. He couldn't help but chuckle.
"Why are you following me? You're risking to reveal our agreement. Go home, Rithiell."
She furrowed her brows, bringing them close together, her eyes turning into slits, similar to a snake's. Her tongue was as poisonous as one, if not more.
"Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?" she said in an exasperated voice. "I'm the one entitled to give orders here, not you! You're simply a peasant's boy!"
Norick's expression changed instantly. He was getting into some kind of fight, that was certain, but not the one he wished for.
"Watch your mouth, Lady Rithiell. Don't push your luck for it may run out."
He had raised his tone in a threatening way, as the muscles of his body tensed. He glowered at her for a single moment, before turning his back again, walking away steadily.
"Where are you going? Stand still when I'm talking to you!" she shouted, believing that her title would mean something at that moment, that Norick would stop and follow her order to the point. But he didn't. He just kept walking. She followed right behind him and pulled his arm.
"I told you to stand st-"
In a glimpse of a moment, Norick turned and grabbed her from her shoulders, shaking her frail body menacingly. His eyes were glinting with rage.
"Or what?" he growled. "You're going to call the city guards on me? Go ahead then, do it. I dare you."
He relaxed his grasp and stood in front of her, looking straight into her eyes. She didn't move. Nor speak. For several minutes they were just standing there, staring at each other. In the end, it was she who broke the silence.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
He exhaled heavily, as if a burden had just been lifted from his shoulders. He reached for her face, smoothly caressing her cheek.
"I'm sorry as well. I overreacted. But I still can't understand Rithiell. It's still hard for me to process why you're doing what you're doing. I mean-"
"Norick? Do you ever miss it?"
Norick's brows furrowed, as the question was vague for him to follow.
"Miss what?"
"Your country. Your people..."
He withdrew his hand from her and rubbed his forehead tiredly. It was true. He was missing Rhydor a lot. He hated the fact that he had to leave everything behind him, especially his mother. But he had no other choice. He was only one man, unable to stand before the terror of Es Dylah's armies. He left, following his mother's advice. And every passing day he was missing her, and his country, more than anything in the world.
"I do, Rithiell. I miss them a lot. But why are you asking?"
"If you were given the chance to return, would you take it? Would you go?"
There was a sadness in her voice, a quiet beckoning. It was shaking, along with her fragile body. He remained silent for a few moments, then nodded.
"Yes, I would. There is no other place in this world I'd rather be than Harn's End. I would return and fight for my country. I would protect its people from the cultists. I..."
He paused, noticing the swelling in her glistening baby blue eyes before a tear appeared, sliding down her porcelain skin. He smiled sadly and grabbed her hand.
"Come with me."
About an hour later, in a room inside the district's inn, safe from all prying eyes, Norick held Rithiell in his arms and opened his heart to her, revealing his most sacred secret. His heritage.
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Her Ladyship, Rithiell Gel'feyn of the noble house of Gel'feyn, is a Qarista woman who loves disobeying her father's wishes of socialising with people of lesser birthrights to her own, especially humans.
Norick Blanke, a human mercenary, has been employed to watch over the superficial, frivolous noble in secret and report back to her father.
Things only become complicated when the two of them meet and come to a mutual agreement.
Rithiell and Norick are OCs from my original fantasy world, Terra Antiqua
Part One of the story is here:
©All rights reserved.
All the characters in my stories are under copyright. Nothing is to be used in any way without my written or otherwise permission. You cannot publish, edit, reproduce, upload, etc. Click here for detailed permissions and terms.
Norick Blanke, a human mercenary, has been employed to watch over the superficial, frivolous noble in secret and report back to her father.
Things only become complicated when the two of them meet and come to a mutual agreement.
Rithiell and Norick are OCs from my original fantasy world, Terra Antiqua
Part One of the story is here:
A Day Unlike the Others - Pt.1Part One
He was lying on a thin layer of leaves beneath a tree, watching at the squirrels jumping merrily from branch to branch as they were preoccupied with their food gathering task and listening to the birds chirp, welcoming the beginning of spring. The snow had melted almost a month now and nature in its entirety was dancing to the tunes of rebirth and renewal. Norick smiled as one of the birds flew down from the tree it was perched on and nestled on his chest.
Admittedly, the country of Chatand had nothing to be jealous of Rhydor, his birth place. But then again, there was nothing he loved more than the frozen, snow covered peaks of t
Master and Servant- First Time is Always MemorableShe stood in front of the heavy door with a brass key in her hand. Giggling impishly, she was trying to place it in the keyhole, while Norick's hand had crawled underneath her elaborate dress and was stroking her thigh, his fingers entwined to her silken underwear. At the sound of the lock opening his grasp tightened and a broad grin lit his face as he pulled the piece of cloth with one fast move, ripping it apart. Rithiell gasped and turned to face him, her baby blue eyes meeting his as he leaned for a deep, passionate kiss. She could sense every inch of his impatience through his rummaging tongue in her mouth, through every single one of hi
©All rights reserved.
All the characters in my stories are under copyright. Nothing is to be used in any way without my written or otherwise permission. You cannot publish, edit, reproduce, upload, etc. Click here for detailed permissions and terms.
Comments1
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Overall Vision Originality
Technique ImpactWell, hello. Sorry it's taken me so long to get to your work. I've been extremely busy. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/f/f…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title=" (Sad)"/>~Now, you've asked me to be more critical with your works, so I will.~
To start off, this segment here: "He felt the impact hard and took a step forward to maintain his balance, his voice raising to a shout."- Is sort of an awkward shift to the previous paragraph. I understand what you were trying to do (artistically portray the abruptness within the sudden impact by writing the style as such), but it's too abrupt to the point that I had no clue what just happened. There wasn't a clear visual. I suggest going back and possibly lengthening it or describing it more to allow that image in your readers' minds.
Now, for the rest, it seems rushed. One second he was fighting with her, and then he gets personal with her, and then he takes her somewhere?
It all happens so abruptly that the story loses its weight and the reader can get lost. Slow it down. Add some detail, background, imagery, possibly thoughts; something to enhance the story and make it flow more naturally.
The idea and your characters are both great; personalities are very strong, which I believe are quite vital to a successful story. It's just you're going too fast. Use your beautiful imagery talents to help enhance your story, and it should be even better than it already is <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/r/r…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" title="Rose"/>