Question by ☮Androgynous☮: Please read and critique the beginning of my novel. I asked this question before, but I’d like more opinions?
Iliana’s brow furrowed deeper as she looked down upon Orandael from the hilltop. It was barely visible in the night, even with her elf eyes. Finelwin snorted and shifted his weight uncomfortably; he was her faithful companion, her loyal steed. She patted his chestnut neck. “Say your farewells Finelwin, it will be a long while before we return.” Finelwin snorted again.
Orandael was their home, and she had never imagined that she would have to leave under these circumstances, though she might have daydreamed similar things when she was younger. She grabbed the saddle horn and mounted Finelwin with the grace and dexterity only an elf could manage. Finelwin trotted away from Orandael, navigating their way slowly down the hillside. Once they had made it to the bottom Finelwin began to gallop across the grassy plain.
Iliana admired the stars as the wind and speed blew her hair in a ribbon trail behind her. She realized that she didn’t have a place to go. She racked her mind calmly for memories of the places she had been, and the places she had heard stories of.
She leaned forward and hugged Finelwin’s neck as a forgotten memory overwhelmed her vision.
She was watching her father work in his study. He studied the book on his desk, scratched some notes onto his parchment, and studied the book again. She sighed. He looked up and smiled.
“Would you like to look at this with me?” he asked, gesturing her over to him. She clamored out of the mahogany armchair and climbed into his lap with an excited smile.
“What is it?” she asked curiously.
“This is a map, my young one.” He pointed to the map. “This is Orandael, where we live. It’s the Elven capital.” There was a line leading out of Orandael and he traced it with his finger. “This… is Fletus d’Antiquus. It means Tears of the Old in the Ancient language. It leads just east of the human city Dalanor.” he kissed her forehead and smiled.
She was wide eyed with the curiosity and excitement of learning something new. “Tell me about Dalanor. Have you ever been there? Did you meet the humans? ”
Her father chuckled. “Dalanor is a diverse civilization. Though it is mainly populated and governed by humans, other races travel there to seek refuge. Most of the inhabitants are kind to all who seek refuge there, though there are others don’t take as kindly.”
“What kind of other races?” she asked with the same curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “Many races. Mostly centaurs seeking shelter after ravaging imperials destroyed their villages, but also the occasional dwarf and the rare elf.” He looked at the map and pointed to Dalanor. As you can see, the centaurs and dwarves live much closer to Dalanor than the elves.” He pointed at the map. There were many cities dotted near Dalanor, their distances on the map measured from two centimeters to two inches, though Orandael was at least seven inches away. “The elves prefer to keep to themselves, though we offer our hand in times of need…”
The memory faded and Iliana opened her eyes. She was surprised to find that they were in the forest. She turned as much as she could and squinted her eyes. She couldn’t see any break in the trees. Finelwin had been steering so smoothly that not one twig snagged Iliana’s cloak .
She closed her eyes again. She could hear the river to her left. East. To Dalanor. She only had a vague idea of how close she was to Dalanor; she guessed it would be another day until they arrived.
It had been dusk when she and Finelwin left Orandael, and now it was approaching dawn. She gently pulled the reins. “Whoa boy.” Finelwin slowed to a walk. Finelwin was one of the finest elven bred horses Iliana had ever seen. Iliana knew that she could have ridden to Dalanor without stopping, but she was tired and she didn’t want to strain Finelwin. She saw a small patch of clearing further into the forest where she and Finelwin could rest. “Whoa.”
Finelwin stopped and Iliana dismounted, grabbing his reins and leading him into the clearing. “We’re resting here tonight.” She rubbed between his ears and started to unstrap the saddle. “I want you to be well rested.” She unstrapped the small mat from the back of the saddle and laid it on the bare forest ground. Besides her small pouch of gold coins, it was the only thing she had brought with her. She gently slid the saddle off of Finelwin and set it on top of a large nearby rock. Finelwin snorted and laid down, curling his legs beneath his body.
Iliana took off her dark green cloak and laid it over the saddle.
She closed her eyes and tried not to think of her parents. In her silent haste she had scratched a note onto a small bit of parchment; no doubt her father had found it by now.
Criticism and suggestions are highly welcomed.
There is more to the story that I have written, many things that make this story unique. However, you have to remember, this is merely the very beginning to my novel. I’ve been working on this since late May, early April.
Best answer:
Answer by Dalton
I like it,but make it more original.
What do you think? Answer below!
I’m going to tell you how I saved a military jet from exploding, and me dying (yet again). I’ve never told this story publicly before. But now that my contract of non-disclosure has long expired, I can reveal it. (Hope I don’t get a knock on the door from some stern faced officials who take me off to a bare room lit only by a
