New Chapter one scene one. Review please?

[BlueLotus]

I'd post this in the crit area, but it is more than 200 words long thus I post it here.

As I said in the other thread I took what was book one before and tore it apart to make two books from it. I won't get into why it is just better this way.

Anyhow, I had chapter one all done, but my friend, the one who tells me what sucks old gym socks and fixes my punctuation suggested that maybe I attack the chapter from a different angle.

That lead to me doing a poll on my blog and FB pg to see which readers liked better. Each had their own strengths and weaknesses. But the first draft (older) had been gone over many times and was as close to perfect and error free as it could be. The new one was done in four hours and was raw still, not nearly as refined, but that was a given from the word go. The readers were also given a third option which was to merge the two chapter versions together, I added that one because I really liked aspects from both versions.

The votes came in and after the count it was clear that most people felt the same way I did that the two versions needed to become one.

So that is the back story.

Here is Scene one from chapter one.

Please do leave a crit if you are able. I'd appreciate the feedback, just keep in mind this an RD.

Ch1 S1
The Walker
By; Pat Jackson
(Merged version)

Moksha stooped over the broad leafy bush, collecting the wild berries that grew there when a pool of water collected in the fold of an orange fern leaf beckoned to him. He tucked the berries into his tattered cloak and stopped cold when images began to form on the water's surface. He stood slack mouthed, as he watched a black mist begin to form and creep along the forest floor. He knew the mist he was seeing was bad news, even if he did not yet know what it was or what it was doing there. As the black mass moved forward the forest began to thin and finally end at a clearing near a steep cliff. Moksha grew more distressed when he saw a woman standing near the cliff's edge.

He tried to think of some way to warn her about the black mass drawing closer to her with each passing second.

Even with her back turned to him, he could tell she was beautiful. She stood with her arms outstretched chanting; his view of her was partially blocked by a large pine tree. Finally, she shifted her weight moving into clear view. His hand flew to his mouth as he gasped involuntarily. Her silver feathered wings, folded delicately along her back with the tips covering her nakedness told him all he needed to know. “She is a Tennin,” he said with a low moan, I must save her, but how? His mind began to race, going over everything he could recall about the race of beings that brought wisdom to mortals.
The creeping black mist halted at the edge of the tree line, it seemed to be waiting for something.
After along moments it began to swirl and condense, taking the form of a large man's shadow.
The shadow crouched low; Moksha's heart began to race along with his mind. "No, No, this can't be happening. She is an immortal!"
As the force of shadow figure slamming into the Tennin knocked her to the ground. Moksha felt a sickening settle in the pit of his stomach.
Naked on the ground, she struggled with the stranger, desperately trying to free herself; her wings beat frantically in an attempt to fly away, but it was useless. The shadowy man had her pinned firmly beneath him. She turned her head just enough to allow Moksha to see the tears mixed with mud and debris and the fear on her face broke his heart. Though he could not hear her he knew the sounds of her screams would make his blood run cold.
Moksha cringed as shadowy hands were placed on either side of her head and twisted. The sight of her neck breaking caused Moksha to gag. His only comfort was that at least she was immortal and was not dead, who would do such a vile thing? he asked himself recalling every event from the past that he could in an effort to identify the shadow man.
To his dismay the black mass plunged it's shadowy arm through the flesh of the dead woman's back and yanked ripping out her soul holding it until the dim light faded to nothingness, like a dying star. The shadow discarded it like an old paper cup. Moksha let out a frustrated scream, watching as the mist man crawled inside the corpse’s shell through the gaping hole between the broken silver wings. The body stood and began to twirl, its mouth open wide as if it were laughing.
Moksha tore the fern to shreds as the reality of what he'd just witnessed caused his anger to boil over. That filthy creature now has the ability to fly unseen, the Tennin's wisdom running back to the beginning of time its self was now in its possession. Moksha beat the bush of wild berries in his frustration. "Why?" he kept screaming. He was alone in his realm; there was no one there to answer his question.

[BlueLotus]

Moksha ran, his long legs carrying him over the great distance to his waiting fire. Even the solace of the familiar blue smoke of his fire did little to settle his nerves or quiet the anger he felt. “Who would do such a thing,” he kept asking himself as he searched through his stash of magical items, searching for the toxic potion used only for those questions that demanded immediate answers. I need to trigger the visions that I seek, I must find the answers, even if it drains me to the point of certain doom. He told himself.

Finally, he found what he sought, tucked away deep in a hole he had dug so long ago, a tiny vial, the brown powder inside, innocent looking to the unskilled eye, but in the wrong hands it was in reality a potent deadly mixture of dried deadly plants fused with the darkest of magic. He grabbed the vial with a pale, shaking hand and raced back to the fire. He threw the vial into the fire, the frantic beating of his heart the only sound in the otherwise calm glade, as he seated himself on the grass near the fire. I am ready, he thought, guild me through safely. He prayed.

Thick blue smoke billowed up from the crackling logs of the small fire, swirling upward to the purple sky, the occasional pop and crack of the burning wood the only sounds that disturbed the utter silence of the glade. He settled into his place of meditation. He sat watching, waiting for the powder to catch light, gazing deep into the flames. As soon as the fire licked the glass he closed his eyes, the sound of the glass exploding echoed through the deathly quiet of the glade like a gun shot. Moksha flinched at the sudden sound, the powder snapped and popped as the flames devoured it, sending its potent power into the air. Moksha closed his eyes and inhaled the unsavory fumes, praying the mixture of magic and plants could trigger the sort of vision that he needed to answer his question.

Whatever it was that he had seen in the gathered dew of the fern’s leaf foreshadowed discord that was gathering in the universe, something was very wrong. If it is what I suspected, the darkest of dark beings that had once been safely locked away in a faraway realm in a forgotten corner of the universe, might have returned. Moreover, it seemed as if the long years of solitude had only served to strengthen them. They were not playing games this time around. He told himself as he closed his eyes, replaying the events he had seen in his mind praying it would trigger the vision where he sought answers.

Breathing deeply and steadily, Moksha sank deeper into the depths of his mind, focusing on the images that formed. The creation of the world, from its birth to its eventual destruction, raced by, misery washed over Moksha and settled deep within his soul, the hair on his arms stood on end as he watched as all righteousness was blotted out in the blink of an eye, leaving the universe in shambles. A shiver ran down his spine as the vision began to show the Gods who were to be slain one by one, and the Devils that danced in delight atop their broken, bleeding bodies. The men and women of Earth were sacrificed like sheep, as all that was beautiful fell into darkness, all that was fine ceased to be, and all that had been formed of blood, bone and consciousness yielded completely to the dark forces of the universe.


Moksha desperately grasped at the flitting, fading images forcing himself to hold onto the vision a little longer, when the answer came. Three thousand years in the future, the universe would simply cease to exist; supporting neither evil nor good, and the great cycle would forever be prevented from beginning once again.

Before the vision could vanish entirely, he focused with renewed effort, searching for a way out, a solution to the destruction of all things. A young child took shape in his mind, with short dark hair and innocent eyes.
Could this child be the one, Moksha wondered? Fighting hard to see more before his meditation was broken. Would a child have the ability to do the things necessary to save the world?

He willed himself to maintain control over the premonition pushing his mind to the brink of madness and exhaustion as he fought to hold on to the vision a little longer until all that was to be revealed had been seen. Beads of sweat from the exertion began to gather on his heavy brow as he strained the limits of his mind. The mysterious youth walked the realms of the universe and performed feats with magic Moksha had only heard about. As the last glimpses of the future faded, Moksha opened his eyes.
If there was a chance he had discovered the identity of the one who could restore balance to the universe, he had to make it known. There was no telling when the youth might be born, but when the time came, Moksha and the others would have to be ready.

The Walker would need training and discipline to combat the darkness that threatens to consume all of existence, and powerful magic would be their only ally.

Whom do I tell this to The Watchers or the Lord? He questioned where to go for long moments, indecision costing him precious time as he battled which direction to head. The rule is to inform the Watchers first. We are not supposed to enter his realm without being invited first. Of course, the rules never mentioned seeing the end of all things.

[susieq]

I'll get right onto this at the weekend, BL, when I have more time. Good story.

[BlueLotus]

Thank you Susieq.

[marcel]

I like what I've read so far, makes me want to read more.

[BlueLotus]

Thanks Marcel. Any issues that you can think of?

[susieq]

Good story but IMO some of the detail could be removed.

Moksha was collecting wild berries, when a pool of water in an orange fern beckoned to him. He stopped cold when images began to form on the water's surface. Slack mouthed, he watched a black mist creep along the forest floor. He knew it was bad news. As the black mass moved forward the forest began to thin and ended at a clearing near a steep cliff. Moksha grew more distressed when he saw a woman standing near the cliff's edge.

[BlueLotus]

I'll take that into consideration. tyvm