Cederak

Anyways, thanks for your opinion, Ced. I'll make them longer, since I did want them to be a bit short because I didn't know how much wording each post can take.

You're quite welcome. Also, the board cuts posts off around 8,000 words. You were nowhere near the danger zone.

-Ced

Resident flatterer? Have I told you how nice you look today?

Also, you were right, turned in long before the 25th.

-Ced

Look, up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's a rather average-rate ECC review. A little odd that anyone thought it resembled the shape of a bird or plane, but I digress. Let's tackle some grammatical and spelling errors first, then we'll talk turkey about your story's plot.

Here we find a matoran camp sent up by a group of nomadic Ta-matoran.

set up by

“My fellow matoran,” He says in a booming voice.

Lowercase the word "he"

He feels more at home wandering the border of their camp; wondering what may be out there.

As the opposite of what you say is a complete sentence, your statement must be a fragment. By that I mean to replace your semicolon with a comma.

“Every day, I wonder if there were any survivors of the attack; if any one searches for us.”

Once again, replace the semicolon with a comma.

“It’s alright;

"all right" is the term you want. The single word version is less accepted as correct. As a rule of thumb, it wouldn't hurt to get in the habit of writing it as two words.

We lost a lot of brothers and sisters back then; but that’s all in the past.

Third incorrect semicolon usage. Commas are your friend, really!

then way is it coming down to this planet?”

then why

The “star” crashes down on a plateau just 20 miles from the matoran.

Numbers below one hundred should be written out (ex: twenty)

“Waste landers”

Just a personal opinion, but I think this would work better as a single word. It may not be a real word, but this is your fictional story. You're allowed to play around with nouns a bit.

Falkin said to royal guard.

"a" or "the" should precede royal guard.

The matoran their arguing about is Flaredrick.

they're arguing about

Go look around see what you like.”

and see what

Simply for the sake of reading this epic, I kind of wish you'd requested it after this hero in your title does some rising. Or at least does something. Also, I wanted to point out that your approach to this epic in a present tense format is most irregular around here. As it were, it made things feel very, very off as opposed to the standard past tense format used by third person narrators. It's not to say that present tense is an impossibility, but I do think it worked against you in this case.

In regards to your constant lowercase spelling of Matoran and Kanohi, I was willing to let that slide. My philosophy with things like that is one mistake is an error, but consistency is style. Moving on to your actual story though, there's room for a lot of potential in there. The real issue comes from how little you're actually doing. Somewhere between the balance of assuming your reader is an intelligent, coherent person and knowing they won't predict every little twist and turn of your plot, you need to be prepared to give back. I'm not talking about holding their hand and walking them through what your story is supposed to be, but I mean really rewarding your audience.

The story feels very drained of color, stilted as well. It's bland, if I have to come right out and be frank about it. There's little to no sensory experience for your characters, details are locales and cities are sparse beyond what sounds like the advertisement on some kind of alien world's travel brochure. I find myself saying this more often than I like, but for all the hard facts of the story, you really need to churn out details. The basic plot and all the foundational elements in it, that's the "broccoli" if you'll work with my analogy for a moment. But details, rich, colorful, fantastic descriptions of the world built up around your characters, that's your "ice cream." The trick is to give your readers just enough broccoli, and plenty of ice cream. Because most people totally love ice cream, correct?

Now, I could probably say something similar for your characters, because outside of their names and some vague words about their armor/species/size, there's really nothing to make them feel genuine. They could be faceless entities just chit-chatting with one another, and I know that isn't what you wanted them to come across as. Give them character, feelings, emotional reactions, curiosities, likes/dislikes, idiosyncrasies, the sky is the limit! Just make them unique, whole embodiments of your writing.

I'll level with you, it's tough to stare your work down and admit that it has its shortcomings, but take the opportunity to really ask yourself "If I were reading this story rather than writing it, knowing absolutely nothing about the rest of the story other than what I've seen thus far, how invested would I be in continuing to read it?" You may find yourself dissatisfied with the answer you receive and I couldn't think of a better reaction really. Complacency is the perfect barrier to improvement, and a writer always has room for improvement.

Trust me when I say that I've seen work like yours in the past, in the same way I'm trusting myself right now when I say I'll probably see more like it in the future. And I'll wind up writing another review like this, talking about scenery and characters that need a dose of life injected into them, as if I'm living some kind of weird critiquing version of Groundhog Day. So here's the facts. Writing isn't easy. If it were, I'd have made enough money off it to be in a mansion somewhere right now rushing down an indoor water slide with a loop in the middle while classic rock tunes blare in the background. And second of all, writing demands a lot of a writer. If you don't put all of yourself into the story and everything that encompasses it, your readers will receive even less than that. You're a storyteller, and the written word is the conduit through which you will tell it. If something doesn't come out the way it looked in your head, the audience will never know. So writing is a matter of getting back what you give. And if you give everything, I'd wager dollars to donuts that your audience will reward the effort.

Anyway, that's the long version of it. Let that sink in for a little bit…think it over. And best of luck, fellow writer.

-Ced

My apologies that we did not attend to this request sooner, KtU. Your story is being assigned to our lovely director, the one and only, Hahli Historian. By my clock, she has until Wednesday, January 16th to give you the full, in-depth review you came for. Trust me when I say she won't disappoint. Also, thank you for choosing the ECC.

-Ced

Hello, SSCC. Just stopping in to get my latest piece critiqued. Thanks!

The Garden by Cederak

-Ced

@Peach: Yeah, the edit is fine. I figured there was a good reason for the slip. No big deal. I am happily surprised to see my Google searching actually sent me in the right direction on the town name thing. Anyway, get well soon (if you haven't already) and you're quite welcome for the review.

@Sky: Where have I seen that method of reviewing before? Oh wait, I know exactly where. And rather than point them out so obviously in front of everyone, I want to say something really quick. As a long-time critic, the style, the very voice of a critique is sacred business. When you copy that voice (be it through emulation, homage, or whatever) it's like you're stealing and repackaging someone's signature. It comes off as insincere and contrived, especially like this. Much of your criticism was tied to arbitrary aesthetics, and you had the foresight to put corrections in air quotes for that. But I'll agree with you on this: I enjoyed the story.

-Ced

Dear Ms. Aderia,

Thank you for saying such kind words. It seems fate has once again separated me from seeing your Christmas pens at work. I've had quite a busy holiday myself, what with people to visit and dishes to prepare. Somehow in the midst of all this, I found a moment to break away and get some writing done. A Happy New Year to you as well, miss. May it be an improvement to all of your 2012.

I am glad you brought up my use of names. I happened upon your request in the OTC to hear about how writers develop their names and I'd like to personally answer you here. The process is one of wondrous chaos, drawing inspiration as my eyes scan the keyboard, gliding my vision from letter to letter. In a matter of moments, the process builds such names as Verolais, Diventia, Emphyon - words that mean nothing to me until I give them purpose. Born from such happy coincidence, these serendipitous names are just another facet in the writing process. I think it's quite special that they merited colorful stickers and holiday paper (Vivez pendant le moment, oui?). The Garden is as much a story of family and legacy as it is an adventure, so I understand the "plush-ness" you spoke of.

Verolais embarks on a journey that challenges her resolve and character, coming out the other side as the strong woman she always was on the inside. Or as much of a woman as a female biomechanical life form can be. At any rate, each Crystal Chronicle has a lesson to be learned and you've explored them nicely thus far. It's easy to hamper a female lead by forcing her to rely on others, but Verolais is lone traveler, prepared to wage a one-woman war on anyone who stands in her way. She's endearing and sweet, but not to be crossed. In short, I wrote her as something of an ideal human in my eyes - flawed, but far from broken.

Thanks again for your beautiful letter; I do hope to hear from you again soon.

Yours Sincerely,

Cederak

Well that took a cold (freezing, even) turn for the unexpected. For a man guilted into writing for the FFFC, I would agree with your anonymous readers that told you it's "a nice story." Not a "nice" story, necessarily, but well-written for what it accomplishes. I would like to point out how clunky "The twilight lit sky had vanished by now" sounded. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the term, but "twilit" as in "twilit sky" would've worked better in my opinion. Just a casual though, I guess.

Ah, how you can create a drama from the potency of teenage hormones made into emotions. The eye line of the misunderstood will have you looking at everything through strange, dreamy windows at a world of utter darkness and confusion. That appears to be the world your protagonist lives in, and I particularly liked all of her reflection on life throughout the tale. Just as the light reflects off the newly fallen snow, glittering across the atmosphere, so too does this young woman reflect on her futility to live as she might like in a world run by adults.

To end it like that…wow. Gun to the head seems the quick—somewhat messy—option, but if you were looking for bonus points with that dramatic, ice shattering instant, you certainly won them fair and square. I don't think I've ever encountered anyone taking that particular route with suicide (perhaps because it's a little bit specific, but still) and a rather theatrical performance to conclude in drowning. It hearkens back to how much the young man from the story really meant to her, and what being with him meant. I won't talk about order of priorities regarding this girl, because fiction often requires a suspension of disbelief to work, but the ending is a dark moment in an otherwise fairly innocent piece. I don't find myself to be the authority on where we should go when the last of our breath has left our lungs, and yet I find myself hoping that your made-up in a few minutes, fictional young lady finds her place to enjoy Christmas and what it means to her.

Which means you did quite a job in convincing me to feel some kind of bond with your character in a small amount of time. A fine job, Alex.

-Ced

How Sarah would miss the beauty of the town square during the holidays…

Sarah? Either this is a typo and it slipped in accidentally in place of your protagonist's real name (though "real" in this case is only determined by using one name more frequently than another), Katie, or this reference seems really unnecessary. I'll try to stay on point with you though. This was superb. Your description of a late winter evening conjured all the softness and bitter cold that awaits me out my own door at this very moment. A young woman trudging through the snow, the midnight clouds made a faint orange by all that reflected city light off the frozen water, well…it all came to mind so vividly. There's nothing like having a strong picture of who your protagonist is, but I consider place to be extremely important. This delivered on that front.

Beneath the harshness of your winter scene, however, touches of people's kindness, of a middle-aged woman's humanity have managed to melt away the frost and become exposed. It makes for a feel-good ending, very much in line with the holiday season. So, yes, you're walking through familiar territory in terms of what sort of writing this is, but the fact that you completely commit to taking me to that place, drawing in my senses so absolutely…I can forgive a bit of unoriginality.

Being an FFFC entry as well, I want to extend my thanks on Velox's behalf for being another entrant to that wonderful little contest. The Ambage is sometimes clawing for participants, given that we have so many plans large and small within our writing community, but the material always carries some hint of inspiration that makes for a fun, happy experience for readers and writers alike.

On an unrelated note, I took the liberty of typing Tahlonega into Google and seeing what I might find. It was apparently one letter away from being an actual city's name, which is still rather amazing, just looking at how odd the word appears to be. At any rate, nicely done, Peach.

-Ced

Oppression has also been reviewed. Yay, first 2013 ECC charity review!

-Ced

Congratulations. You have been unknowingly selected as the winner of the first ECC charity review of 2013. What a treat, right? "Yes, yes it is." Glad you agree. Now, before we get down to the important points, I'll run through the single error (that's right, you're either really good with your grammar/spelling or I was really off my game in that department today) I found.

Why did his Captain decide to bring him camping.

him camping?

Glancing at your review topic, I quickly discovered this story has roots in the RPG forums. This fact may inform your characters having biological processes like using the bathroom or eating non-protodermis-based food. As a rule, RP-inspired epics tend to lack something in terms of characterization. Perhaps because the intended audience is the writer's RP friends who already know the back-story and just want a new plot. This often alienates other writers from reading the epic because that disconnect exists. Your introduction tells that the reader is in for a tale of family, vengeance, and oppression. It sounds intense, but I only have so little to work with here.

I liked your depiction of male Vortixx life on Xia, living under the merciless rule of the females. Males fight to survive, even for a small meal to get them through the day. It's a solid look at how I sometimes imagined things on Xia to work, with the males practically being slaves. Of course, your lead seems destined for great things down the road. I presume he would eventually go on to oppress the females as he was once oppressed, possibly playing upon your title in this way. Only speculation, but once again, I don't have a lot to work with.

The basic premise of this story is pretty good, but I think it really faltered in terms of detail and character description. The walls didn't have enough paint and the people in the room were a little too pale, if you get what I'm saying. Splash some life into all that, and I think you'll be well on your way. Best of luck.

-Ced

Well this was a welcome addition to the library. A story that picks up after the events of the storyline with such a smooth transition is rarity, in my experience. Shame this will only go on for three posts, it was very good. I'll say more after addressing a couple errors.

the Matoran Mazeka was doing his best not to get involved the conversation

involved in the

but it still meant that scouting teams Agori and Matoran alike were coming back singed and slashed at.

teams of Agori

Light Teridax. A character almost as forgettable as Tuma after the whole "battle with Mata Nui" business, but you found quite a use for him here. Each of the canon entities that have shown up so far feel very aligned with what I already know of them. Mazeka might have required a bit of inspiration, but I think he was as natural as Helryx or the Toa Mahri in all this. Mainly, your Light Teridax was a real treat. The story felt a little slow to start, but it was Teridax's dialogue with Hahli that really got things going. The discussion brought up some excellent points about characters coming from separate universes, where roles are vastly different. In a world that never praised the name Mata Nui, there's this sense of "everything is okay" that Hahli has never quite had the opportunity to grow accustomed to.

Beyond that, I really have to applaud how you've shaped your post-storyline Spherus Magna. You didn't answer all my questions, nor did you need to. You provided just enough in just the right way, to evenly run between what I need to know and where the story is headed next. Stories that try to capture what you're tackling are a dime a dozen, but to do it in a way that incorporates such seamless transitions between explanations and plot, well…I think my search through the haystack has finally brought me a nice, shiny needle.

I'm looking forward to the remainder of this story in three parts. The title also leaves me rather suspicious of Light Teridax's true intent. Is a reference to him as the "shadow" of our story an allusion to the version from Hahli's universe, or is there an unexpected development on the horizon? Don't answer, my imagination will more than keep me sated until the next installment arrives. Fine work, GSR.

-Ced

The Beginning has been reviewed.

-Ced

Charity review time! After taking roughly a month off, getting back into the swing with such a small piece was no great challenge. And with only two errors, well…I'm impressed.

He starred at the Suva,

stared at

His thoughts were cut short when their query calmly raised its arm over its head

their quarry

This is another epic I've encountered among some other recent ones that really wants to return to the roots of the Bionicle mythos. There is certainly a market for nostalgia and this hearkened back to Hapka's writing and the other media available at the time. My problem with stories like this is when you color in the lines a little too much. Well-versed canon fans know the 2001 story back and forth, so if your intention was to sharpen your writing chops, well done. If your intention was to explore something in a way I've never seen before…not so well done.

All of the source material you wished to include in this epic gives a fine explanation of what happened during the beginning of 2001. So much so, in fact, that I remain very curious whether this epic was finished or not. I don't encounter epics so short too often, but the way your first chapter ends, it could either serve as an interlude to the rest of the 2001 story, or you might've actually been planning to cover more of that. The big point here is that the events have been hashed and rehashed so many times through the canon, throughout this library, and throughout other fanfiction websites that there's nothing that really impressed me about this story. True, you only had a couple grammatical errors, but there was no "stand out" moments that made this epic feel compelling.

If nothing else, I enjoyed your description of scenery. So yeah, you can come in here and justify your epic with not being an experienced author, and how you were simply in a writing mood, but bear in mind that people are going to read your work. Whether you ever hear a single word about it, people are reading your work. And looking at your review topic, a response wasn't worth their time. But what does someone say about a story like this? What do you say when it feels like you've dropped homage for ripping off the story of a few well-known comics and the work of C.A. Hapka? It's not outright plagiarism, no, but it's close enough to make this feel unimaginative.

Here's the deal. You're a fan of Bionicle, so am I. The fact that you wrote this all the way in 2012, with the storyline already long concluded, tells me that you probably have some respect for the ancient days of 2001 and the Toa's arrival on Mata Nui. That said, we don't need another C.A. Hapka or Greg Farshtey to run through our favorite pieces of the early storyline. We already have those books. We need original, thoughtful, creative tales that take the universe we know and love to places we can only dream of. Bionicle is a vast and mysterious mythos and I think you sold yourself short taking this route. Obviously, it's been several months since you wrote this, but if you should happen to read this review, please take what I've said into consideration. My first job is to inspire writers to write more and give the best of their abilities. Good luck.

-Ced

This is a very different piece. You've given your audience two stories and one story, all at the same time. The adage that life repeats itself creates a strong parallel between the past and present, only with slight transformations throughout. It presents a strong warning at its conclusion though, in spite of all the training people receive the military these days. Enlisted troops are recommended to watch one another, catch signs of post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, suicidal tendencies. But this pushes past all that and fast forwards to the twilight years of a soldier's life. This man saw the hellish landscape of war and returned from that, half dead. For all his perseverance, at the end, the past remains as strong as it was when it was the present.

Your description of the horrors of war, while feeling a tad cliché here and there, capture the idea well enough to make your finale a reasonable, realistic one. Although, there's also the possibility that I've played one too many video games set during World War II that lend to this feeling of triteness. Whatever the case, the story is somehow endearing. You take an introduction where an old Jacob is searching for his inner peace, breathing deep, breathing in the memories of a past he would like to be done with, only to find that there is but a single answer to putting such a past away.

Warfare is the bad dream a soldier has to live with every day, having stared into the face of mankind's own darkness and either lost and consumed by that pit or crawling out of it like a newborn baby into the world. Civilian life is scary, confusing, because to adapt and feel comfortable with confronting the atrocities of war, there is a demand to relinquish some of your humanity, the basic parts of being a civilian, and acting (as you said) "robotically." Ultimately, your conclusion serves as a stark reminder that soldiers are not machines, there are humans, greatly affected in their fight for freedom, for country, or for whatever soldiers choose to fight for. That said, the title choice is excellent. Well done.

-Ced

The fourth entry in my Crystal Chronicles mini-series (preceded by Nascent, Rewriter, and Anhedonia - all of which have nothing to do with each other), I've returned to the short stories department for a less scientific take on the crystal core and dosage of mysticism. Enjoy.

The Garden

And the Great Being Tynovius held out his hand and pressed it to the queen, touching her with his power. Tynovius told her, "There will come a day where I must leave you, when my kind shall vanish from the earth and take to the stars. In my place, I present unto you twelve progeny—six sons and six daughters—beautiful scions born of my power and intelligence." Tynovius withdrew his hand and brought a dozen entities into existence around the queen, the heirs of his divine power.

—Excerpt from the Book of Isolation, Chapter 1

"Activate the chamber. It's time."

Verolais felt a jolt of energy shoot down through her body and the muscles around her eyes twitched weakly. Power quickly returned to her form and she breathed as if for the first time. Awakening from stasis reminded her of when she was born - an infinity of nothing abruptly halted by life. A rush of sound overwhelmed her, followed by the sensation of falling forward. She instinctively caught herself, her hands and knees touching the cold, metallic floor. She opened her eyes and found herself in a fog, paralyzed for a few seconds as old memories washed up like flotsam in her mind. Verolais took a few steps forward and her vision improved. She found herself standing in a large laboratory.

"Welcome back, Verolais."

The specialized sensors on his eyes and his protective gear were the standard attire of a scientist. Several others dressed very similarly began to approach Verolais, carefully studying her form. She felt rather uncomfortable with the unwanted attention and took a bold stomp forward.

Verolais eyed the scientists suspiciously. "Has another war begun?"

The first scientist shook his head. "You were awoken per Queen Emphyon's orders. It has been nearly twenty one hundred years since the World War, or any act of war for that matter."

Verolais rapidly blinked her eyes, taking in what she was hearing. "Twenty one hundred years, and my mother…is no longer queen?"

The scientist gave her a reluctant frown. "I think it would be best if you were escorted to Nexus Tower. Queen Emphyon will explain the situation to you there."

"Not yet," she growled. "Why has my mother been removed from the throne!?"

The scientist glanced at his colleagues and one of them took a slow step toward her. "Your mother is no longer with us. She passed over a millennia ago."

Verolais wasn't sure if it was the effects of coming out of stasis, but she was feeling decidedly emotional. She loved her mother, truly and completely. She was an inspiration to her and her brothers and sisters - the matriarch of the Kingdom of Crystal. To know she was gone left a strange taste in Verolais' mouth and a sickening feeling in her chest. She angrily marched towards the scientists, energies swirling around her hands. She wanted answers, but as they backed away in fear, Verolais deactivated her powers. She had nothing to gain from interrogating a few stasis pod analysts that couldn't be learned from the new queen, whoever she was. She looked back at the wall of stasis chambers and noticed all twelve were empty. When the World War concluded, her brothers and sisters all requested that they be placed in stasis until the day came that they were needed to defend the kingdom again.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have intimidated you. I just found out my mother is dead…and I think I'm an only child now too."

Verolais quickly departed the room, searching the facility for an exit. Her body felt noticeably light and she looked down at her form. Instantly recalling that she had removed much of her battle armor before entering stasis, Verolais felt incredibly naked without it. She caught sight of herself in a long mirror that lined the corridor and stared back in dissatisfaction. Thin, separated plates of frost colored armor wrapped around obsidian muscle tissue, exposing the weak points her battle armor had protected. She slowly turned around before the mirror, paying close attention to the plating that hugged against the gentle curves of her frame. She could see the spines that jutted out behind her head—a pair above her audio receptors and a pair near the top of her head—all pointing backward.

An elevator opened at the far end of the corridor and Verolais scanned the distance between her and the transport chamber. Estimating it at ninety bio, she bolted across the room and sprinted for the elevator with everything she had. Without the added weight of her battle armor, Verolais felt unbelievably fast, covering the distance in a few seconds. She halted herself in the elevator's center and touched the selection screen to send her up to the ground level. Stasis hadn't weakened her in the slightest and Verolais flexed the muscles in her arms and legs. Her body appeared lean and lithe, but she was overflowing with power.

The elevator doors opened and Verolais silently walked by several more scientists, still uncomfortable with their stares and curious glances. Many centuries ago, the Kingdom of Crystal knew her as the Paragon, the military leader of the kingdom and the individual that led her homeland to victory during the World War. There was no arrogance in her success though, as Verolais acknowledged it was through the assistance of her brothers and sisters that the kingdom ultimately triumphed and drove back their enemies after one final push.

As Verolais crossed the entryway that led her outside, she felt oddly comfortable with what she was seeing. She was in the kingdom's capital city, but if it was true that twenty one hundred years had passed while she sat it stasis, why was everything so familiar? The hover vehicles looked the same, skyscrapers remained as polished as ever, and even the biomechs walking about seemed too unchanged by the years. Nexus Tower stood out above all other buildings in the city and Verolais started toward it.

The city seemed wary of her presence and Verolais had a feeling they had all been expecting her. While the Kingdom of Crystal remained pristine and bright, it was eerily quiet. No one spoke to her as she walked and most tried to avert their gaze if Verolais glanced their way. She was tempted to scream out at them, to end their show and discover what exactly was going on. Employing the best of her resolve, she continued on, reaching the entrance to Nexus Tower within a matter of minutes.

Verolais stared up at it, the gaudy display of the kingdom's power. It was more than Verolais would've wanted, but it had always been her mother's home, not hers. There were certain things Verolais had never understood about her mother, disconnected from the trouble of being so…fragile. She remembered her mother as a strong woman, capable of great passion and great fury. In spite of how much more infinitely powerful Verolais was from a physical perspective, some part of her was always slightly fearful of her mother - fearful of the emotion that simmered beneath the surface much like the energy within Verolais. Verolais knew her own power well and mastered her control of it, but her mother had always been enigmatic and beyond total comprehension. Perhaps it was that air of mystery that drew a Great Being like Tynovius to her in the first place. Verolais found her father to be much more effortless to understand, catching the meaning to every riddle in his speech and finding comfort at how in tune he was with the universe. Tynovius, however, found a simplicity to life that Verolais never latched on to - a fact that made her smirk. She was her mother's daughter.

Royal guards stood aside as Verolais entered the palace, their helmeted heads simply bowing to her. She examined the sleek, obsidian visors of their helmets and noted the virtual displays faintly glowing in them. Such technology did not exist the last time Verolais was awake. Even their energy rifles seemed drastically changed from those she had seen when fighting in the war. She continued to the palace elevator, watching a guard activate the panel that would call the transport down. The door swept open and Verolais stepped inside, pressing the button for the top floor. She had visited Nexus Tower a day ago in her mind, but the reality that her mother would not be there to greet her upon arrival was troubling. The door opened again and Verolais purposefully marched out into the hallway, watching more of the guards bow their heads to her.

"Hello, at last," a female biomech called from the entryway to the throne room.

Verolais looked out at her, unable to speak as sunlight poured in from the royal chamber. The new queen had a silhouette that reminded Verolais so much of her mother. Her white and crimson gown flowed gently as she approached Verolais, traces of chrome armor peeking out from underneath. Her eyes were like diamonds, silver and sharp. Verolais could see confidence in those eyes, she could see the belief that she was fit to be queen. Verolais had never met her, but she disagreed with the notion entirely.

"I'm Queen Emphyon," she said, smiling. "Welcome back to Nexus Tower, Verolais."

Verolais glared at her. "You stand in my mother's house, wear my mother's clothing, and speak to me as though you were my mother, the rightful queen to this kingdom. You are not my mother, Emphyon, and you will never be my queen."

Emphyon frowned, taking a step backward. "Time has carried on in your absence, Verolais. You're not the only one of your sisters to question my authority and I was as sorry as anyone else when your mother passed. She led this kingdom through its toughest hours and I can never hope to best her abilities as a leader."

"No," Verolais replied sternly. "No you cannot."

"Despite the clear animosity you have toward me, you were awoken from stasis for a reason," Emphyon explained. "You are the last surviving child of the Great Being Tynovius and we need your help."

Verolais turned her head down. She had surmised her brothers and sisters had perished when she saw their stasis tubes to be empty, but now it was confirmed. Letting her instincts as the Paragon take over, Verolais ignored the emotional response to break down and mourn for the loved ones she had lost.

"I'm not helping anyone until I get some answers," Verolais said, marching toward Emphyon. "Why has this kingdom become so stagnant? What killed my mother, my sisters, and my brothers? And who gave you the right to be queen?"

"Come with me, Verolais," Emphyon offered, motioning her to the throne room.

Verolais followed, stepping inside the grand chamber from where her mother once presided over the entire Kingdom of Crystal. Glancing up at the ceiling, she beheld a massive stained glass depiction of her brothers and sisters fighting in the World War. Verolais led them into battle, the Paragon of the military that was charged with protecting the kingdom at all costs.

"Daughter of Tynovius," Emphyon began, "product of his love for a biomech queen, you have slept a long time. During the World War, we were the most advanced kingdom on the planet. Since you led our military to victory, we have not contacted the world outside our borders and none have come to contact us. After the first millennia or so of stasis, your only sister to opt out of the program, Diventia, spoke to your mother about Tynovius and the Great Being city that once existed far from our kingdom. Our kingdom possesses much of the planet's resources and while we've never had a need to journey outside our borders, your sister was adamant in exploring. The queen later told Diventia that Tynovius once spoke of a grand source of power that fueled the city and was to be left behind when his kind left our world. Convinced the power source was still there, Diventia was refitted with her battle armor and sent out from our kingdom with several high ranking elite knights. Neither Diventia nor any of the knights returned."

"The Great Being city," Verolais breathed. She remembered visiting it long ago, an interim made even longer by the stasis gap. "So, if Diventia never returned from the city, did my brothers and sisters leave to search for her?"

Emphyon sighed. "Sometime after Diventia left our kingdom, your mother fell ill. She became distraught and miserable from the loss of her child and slowly withered away. Since her death, each king or queen of this city has sent out another child of Tynovius to enter the city of the Great Beings and return with the power source. I'm sure you can piece the rest together yourself."

Verolais stared hard at the queen. "They died on the journey. But…why didn't you send us together?"

"The risk of leaving our city unprotected was too great," Emphyon replied. "Still, each of your brothers and sisters accepted the journey willingly. It is not a task to be forced upon a warrior and I can assure you that we expected their return. A prior queen commissioned the construction of a starship that would allow us to leave this world and travel the stars as the Great Beings did. To power it, though, we need an energy the likes of which only the Great Beings might possess. Your mother once said that Tynovius called it "the strongest fuel I have ever known." If such an energy truly exists out there, it would be immensely beneficial to the kingdom."

"If my brothers and sisters risked their lives to retrieve this energy, then I will take up their cause as well. I was their leader, their Paragon, and I will finish their mission."

"I want you to know, I'm truly sorry for all that you have lost," Emphyon said. "I know this can't be easy."

"It isn't," Verolais replied. "The last time I spoke to my mother, hugged her…I didn't think it would be for the last time. Perhaps if I had known this was coming, I would've done things differently."

"Your battle armor is still locked up in the weaponry hall," Emphyon said. "I'll have one of the knights allow you inside."

"Thanks," Verolais replied quietly. "I want you to know, whatever is waiting for me in the Great Being city…I'll be back."

Emphyon smiled. "I can only hope."

<<<>>>

Verolais stared at her battle armor in silence. She reached toward the display case and grabbed the pieces that locked around her lower legs, protecting her calves, shins, and ankles. Two more pieces were attached to her thighs, clicking into place as they locked tight. A thin armor plate wrapped around her hips as well, securely fastened to her metallic form. Another armor pair was connected to her shoulders and ran down her arm, while a separate piece protected her forearms. Verolais placed a flexible back plate against her shoulder armor and locked it further into place on the small of her back. Her hands and feet were well-protected on their own, leaving one final piece to be fitted on. Verolais took down her breastplate and locked it against her body, looking down at her heartlight as the armor clicked together. It was exposed, unable to properly cycle the energy within her if it were constricted. Verolais was a well-seasoned fighter, unconcerned with leaving her heartlight unprotected. The power she wielded had always made it a nonissue in the past.

The once and former Paragon headed off from the royal palace then, returning to the disturbingly silent city streets. Receiving stares and unnerved glances from the biomech citizens, Verolais did her best to ignore them, to imagine herself anywhere else. She marched confidently toward one of the local matter transmitters and tried not to pay any notice as civilians began to walk with her. Once she approached the machine, Verolais input a coordinate request and stepped into a beam of light within the transmitter. In an instant, Verolais was shot across the kingdom to the far western edge of the wall, standing in an entirely separate transmitter.

Verolais stared out at the metallic silver wall, a thick and sturdy barrier from the mysterious world beyond. It was perhaps ten bio high, maybe higher. Verolais ran at the wall then, ascending it quickly as her feet pushed her higher against the cold metal, propelling her over the obstacle and into thin air. Below, a grand waterfall sent a torrent of liquid blasting into a basin. Verolais would either drop into the water far below or land another seven bio out on the ridge beyond. Without missing a beat, Verolais lunged herself forward, closing the gap and catching the cliff with her right hand. Keeping a steady momentum, Verolais threw herself upward and front flipped onto a soft patch of grass.

Verolais suddenly felt very alone. It reminded her of the battlefield. A soldier can rely on her fellow troops for morale support and covering fire, but it is her own skill versus that of the enemy that often determines her survival. Verolais knew this well, having led the kingdom's military through so much. Her comfort in battle had left her somewhat broken in society, sometimes unable to properly adjust to that calm lifestyle. Verolais felt as ease, glancing back down the side of the waterfall for only a moment. She slowly turned her attention to the world outside of the kingdom's immediately surroundings, studying the far distant landscape.

Verolais had fought off the kingdom's enemies outside the western wall before. This could hardly be the same place. The fields had been reclaimed entirely by nature, far off cities consumed by overgrowth. They had succumbed to the war with entropy, crumbled apart. There was no sign of any civilization out here, only the wall at Verolais' back. She continued on across the fresh grass, untouched by sentient life for ages. This land belonged to the planet again, as Tynovius had often expressed a desire to see. Living in harmony with the forces of nature, rather than in a constant, bitter struggle with them, was where Verolais' parents differed. Her mother was a simple biomech creature, devoid of the untold power the Great Beings possessed. Before meeting Tynovius, she had lived the life of a biomech for centuries. Biomechs built walls, roads, towers, airships, and kept nature at bay if its beauty stood where they wanted any of those things to rest.

As night began to fall, Verolais had covered a great distance by simply walking. She had entered the ruins of the nearest city, a metropolis she could not recall the name of. She had fought campaigns across the world, but the only name that was important to her was the Kingdom of Crystal. The streets were wrecked and buried, entire regions of the city flooded out into a small lake. Where a great menagerie once stood, only the remnants of empty cages and exhibit stages remained. She had encountered fauna roaming the ancient streets, now winding paths that predator or prey traveled for hunting or escape. The beasts, held captive for the amusement of biomechs, now owned the city. This was the territory of animals and Verolais was a foreigner in their midst. As the last flickers of sunlight ran away from the night, she prepared herself for what must come next. This was the jungle, after all.

The kingdoms knights never ventured far from the realm, unaware of just how strange the land beyond had become. Verolais could hear the growls and stirring movements of animals in the dark, stalking her, analyzing how threatening she might be. Sweeping a corner, a large, cat-like creature came into view. It's leg muscles were strong enough to push a kingdom soldier over and tear him asunder. Verolais stood her ground, stomping against the broken concrete in the dirt. The beast took a step forward, stomping its clawed foot against the ground. It would not tolerate her intrusion.

"Let me go," Verolais whispered, her voice calm and even.

The beast growled angrily at her, taking a couple steps back. Verolais could tell it was preparing to strike.

"Let me go," Verolais repeated, taking a step back as well.

The beast was patient, waiting for the right moment to present itself. Verolais turned away and moved as though she were about to break into a run. The colossal animal leapt into the air and moved in for the kill. Verolais spun back, placing her hand out at the creature. Her palm became illuminated by gleaming, silver energies. A circular barrier of crystalline energy came into existence between the beast and Verolais, causing it to smash its head against the crystal wall before landing with a hard crash. Verolais flicked her wrist and sent a jolt of electricity into the creature, causing it to flee. At roughly three times the size of Verolais, it had never encountered such a powerful prey.

Verolais swept her hand across the air, firing several sharp crystalline daggers out into the grass. They plunged into the dirt and shattered, immediately catching fire to the ground. Verolais had delivered a warning to anything watching her confront the beast and now that warning had become an outright threat. She was not to be toyed with. Verolais had made similar displays during the war, striking fear into the heartlights of the kingdom's enemies. The Paragon was the most confident, swift, unstoppable force ever known to her world. Even the Great Beings were capable of compassion, showing mercy when their enemies may not deserve it. Verolais was a staunch defender of the Kingdom of Crystal and, if you threatened her mother, you threatened her. Her eleven brothers and sisters did not see things quite so black and white, but Verolais tried not to think about that much. She didn't consider her world view a perfect one, but something must've stood between the others and their objective. It must've killed them. Verolais couldn't afford to be killed. She was a military leader. She was the final guardian of the kingdom. She was the law.

"Stop where you are!"

Verolais froze. She must've been walking all night, suddenly realizing sunrise was on the way. Several armed biomechs stood in the distance, brandishing energy rifles. Instinctively, Verolais summoned a crystalline shield bubble and a pair of crystal blades in her hands, charging them with electrical power.

"Put your shield down and drop the weapons!" one of the soldiers ordered.

Verolais hadn't expected anyone to be roaming out in the wilderness, let alone a seemingly well-coordinated military faction. She dropped the energy shield and allowed the blades to fade into millions of crystal bits, carried away by the wind.

"Identify yourself, please," the soldier told her, cautiously approaching.

"I am the Paragon of the Kingdom of Crystal," Verolais said. "Let me pass."

The soldiers loaded their weapons and took aim at her. Verolais narrowed her sight and engaged a new set of crystal blades, dashing forward through the hail of gunfire. She evaded every shot and ran one of her blades straight into the chest of one of the soldiers. His fellow gunmen turned and beheld a terrible sight. The soldier had been impaled on Verolais' blade, held aloft by her arm. Screaming out in both pain and terror, his body began to turn to crystal dust, swept away by the wind as Verolais' first blades had been.

"Let me pass," Verolais repeated, this time more sternly.

The soldiers ran for their lives, heading across the vast plain and as far from Verolais as they could get. Meanwhile, Verolais felt herself getting back into the swing of battle. She couldn't imagine why soldiers still cared about gunning her down after so many years, but she also knew they had underestimated their enemy. Verolais had been thrown into the wild, armed only with her own power. She had seen the cruelty and savagery of biomechs on the battlefield and felt no compassion for them taking up rifles now. The way she saw it, if you were prepared to fire a gun, you were prepared to face the consequences of pulling your trigger.

Verolais continued across the plains through the morning and much of the afternoon, deciding to pick up the pace a bit. It was no great exhaustion to cover a couple dozen kio every hour, never encountering another biomech along the way. Verolais started to wonder if she'd imagined the early morning encounter, possibly a strange side-effect of the stasis process. Nearing the late afternoon, however, her theories fell away. Verolais halted her trail when she cleared a massive hillside and stumbled upon her destination. An ancient Great Being city rested in the valley below, appearing to be active and functional. Upon closer inspection, even more of the soldiers like she'd seen earlier were patrolling the outer perimeter of the city. Something in the back of her mind told Verolais that the object she required was in the heart of that city.

Towers of bronze and ruby shimmered like gems in the late afternoon sun, their edges moving and readjusting here and there. Great Beings were flighty, unable to stay constant very long. They longed for activity, and their city was a reflection of this. The only problem was that it was no longer their city. Verolais could see more and more biomech troops outside the city limits, watching her, waiting for her. No one fired, no one called out, no one did a thing. Verolais didn't like things being that easy - it was suspicious. Much like in the kingdom, Verolais entered the streets of the city and received nervous glances, worried stares and reluctant examinations. She was devoid of answers all over again, but as Verolais came closer and closer to the center of the city, she felt herself coming closer to some kind of truth. At last, her feeling became reality.

The heart of the city was a lonely garden, sustaining fresh grass and sweet, colorful flowers. Verolais entered the garden, studying the architecture of several stone objects all around. The structures varied in size, some built as grand statues of long forgotten Great Beings and others of mysterious devices, the products of their technological knowhow. At the center of the garden was a pedestal, upon which something important was made to rest. Verolais found it odd that the pedestal was empty instead, but she didn't ponder for long.

"Hello, dear sister," a familiar voice called out.

Verolais felt as though her muscles had frozen over, unable to move at first. She whirled around and caught sight of where the voice had come from, unsure if what she was seeing was real. She was looking at Diventia, her sister, and the first of Tynovius' children to leave the kingdom. Verolais felt her mouth hanging open, not quite ready to reply. Diventia remained as beautiful as she had ever been, always considered the most gorgeous among Tynovius' daughters. For all the skill Verolais possessed in battle, Diventia possessed splendor. Every line, every contour of her body exuded attractiveness, all culminating in her intense, lemon eyes. Her armored form was adorned in auburn and amber, her tawny face smiling intently. Verolais never paid much mind to all the attention Diventia received for her looks, but having thought her dead a day prior, she could see something about Diventia she had never noticed before. First of all, she hadn't aged a day since the war ended. Second of all, Verolais considered that Diventia might've been the most beautiful thing that ever lived. It was almost scary how stunning she was and Verolais took another step backward.

"It has been a very long time, Verolais," Diventia said, her voice rich with charm. "Well, for me, at least. I have waited so many years for the Paragon of our mother's kingdom to walk into my home."

Diventia marched toward Verolais like the mighty ruler of a thousand legions, a chrome scepter in her hand. Atop the otherworldly rod was a transparent spherical case that contained a brilliant golden jewel, a floating crystalline gem that shifted about itself, glowing like a miniature sun.

"Hello, Diventia," Verolais was finally able to utter. "What's on that scepter?"

Diventia turned her head up to the crystal core and smirked. "This is a present our father left behind for us, situated atop the pedestal behind you when I first found it. My touch brought this entire city to life, all possible through this little energy reactor. Tynovius recorded a message within it, asking the son or daughter who discovered it to make a choice. We could return home with it, prancing back to our pathetic, weakling mother, or leave it where it lay and join the Great Beings in their collective."

Verolais narrowed her eyes. "Never speak of our mother that way. She was a stronger queen than you or I could ever be!"

Diventia laughed, returning her focus to Verolais. "There are soldiers with their rifles trained on you all around this complex. And yet, I know this truth does not trouble you. We are more than soldiers, sister. We are more than kings or queens. We are goddesses, meant for thrones far more exalted than our mother could ever imagine. Our brothers and sisters could not see this, the idea that we might rule the world did not sit well with them. I rejected running home to mother or chasing off after our father and became a goddess here. My subjects have watched your every step since you left our mother's kingdom, because I commanded them to. Short of the Kingdom of Crystal that chooses to keep itself trapped in darkness, I have achieved control of the entire world with this crystal core at the heart of my own kingdom. And now that you have come, the last sentinel of mother's realm has left it defenseless."

"You used that crystal core to kill our brothers and sisters," Verolais reasoned, angrily staring her sister down, "and now you would ask me to join you? I will not aid your campaign to conquer the Kingdom of Crystal."

"No. Why would the golden child dare to hurt mother, right? When the twelve of us defended her borders and protected her citizens, it was you, the almighty Paragon, that mother loved above all others. I have spent years cursing your legacy, always knowing you would be the last to arrive. Even some of our brothers and sisters, despite their apprehension to take the world for ourselves, wanted to see you taken down a peg. Can you blame us?"

"Don't try to put me on a guilt trip, Diventia," Verolais replied. "I was a modest defender of the kingdom like the rest of us. And if I proved myself worthy enough to lead the military, I won't be treated like a criminal for performing to the best of my abilities. You're truly the prettiest entity I've ever known, but your jealousy says otherwise."

Diventia was fuming. "You are the final threat to my kingdom and no real threat at all. I allow you into my home, as I have allowed each of my siblings, and you have refused my kindness. The world has forgotten you, Paragon Verolais, but I am about to show this city why yours is a worthless title."

Verolais drew her hand to the side, materializing a blade of crystalline in her grasp. "You asked for this."

Diventia pointed her scepter at Verolais, instantly paralyzing her sister in place. Verolais felt herself being lifted off the ground and hurled backwards, slamming her back against the pedestal. At once, a portal rippled to life, creating a dimensional gateway above the pedestal. Regaining control of her body, Verolais leapt away from the portal, eyeing her sister's reaction to it.

"That's unexpected," Diventia muttered.

"Where does that portal go!?" Verolais questioned.

"I don't know," Diventia replied, aiming her scepter at Verolais. "Hopefully somewhere you won't like."

Verolais felt herself lifting off the ground again, using every bit of her energy to fight the influence of the crystal core. Diventia was still trying to hurl her sister into the portal, but Verolais was strong enough to keep herself locked in place. She hadn't imagined her journey would end in a confrontation with Diventia, but it didn't change much for Verolais. Whatever the cost, she needed to separate her sister from the scepter.

"You were born a product of the Great Beings!" Diventia shouted. "You were a gift, a treasure that was made to lead these lesser creatures! Your time here has left you damaged and less than whole! Do not fight your fate!"

Verolais tried to tune Diventia out, carefully manipulating her own crystal energy skills. Diventia was using the crystal core to move her, but Verolais was trying to feel for any trace of crystal energies like her own within the core. If it possessed even an iota of that energy wavelength, Verolais could manipulate it.

"I can see you are only a product of war now," Diventia continued. "You're trying to understand yourself in a world that has changed drastically and no longer needs you. If you truly care about your efforts as Paragon, why not do what is best for the survivors of that terrible war?"

Verolais mentally caught the energy wavelength she had been feeling for, pulling the scepter from her sister's grasp and throwing it across the garden. Diventia's scepter flew through the air and into one of the statues, shattering the casing at the top. Both sisters watched in anticipation as the mysterious crystal core within was released. The scepter dropped to the ground immediately, but the golden crystal object hovered in midair for a moment, still spinning serenely. Without warning, the core exploded to life, releasing massive amounts of power. Diventia examined her body, watching trails of sparks fly up and down her form. Verolais noticed the same, feeling the crystal powers within herself growing unstable. Struggling against her own body, Verolais raced for the crystal core, taking it in her hands as the dimensional gateway began to rumble and screech. Diventia attempted to retrieve the core from Verolais, but before she could, her sister hurled it into the portal. Diventia screamed out in anger and shock, diving after the crystal core.

"Diventia!" Verolais called out in a warning.

Diventia, consumed by her lust for power, caught the crystal core just as it entered the portal, pulled in with the object. Seconds later, the portal exploded, sending a chain reaction of explosions out through the city. Verolais watched as the technology her sister did not fully understand, the devices that sustained her kingdom for so long, were damaged beyond repair all in a single moment. Without the knowledge of the Great Beings, Diventia's city would become another ruin on the planet. Unconcerned with the biomechs that devoted themselves to Diventia's cause, Verolais didn't waste any time wondering what would happen to the soldiers and civilians living there.

No one attempted to stop Verolais from leaving the ancient city, with the soldiers using weapons that had been wirelessly connected to the power of the crystal core. Their guns were now nothing but blunt, metal objects - hardly a concern for the female who was now undeniably the strongest entity in the world. Resolving to return home to the kingdom she still considered her mother's, Verolais recalled the starship Queen Emphyon spoke of. Verolais vowed that she would find a way to power it and pursue Diventia across the stars, for she already possessed a guide. When Verolais touched the crystal core, it interacted with her own power, creating a link between them. Verolais could faintly sense the core somewhere out in the vastness of space and, wherever Diventia had gone, Verolais intended to seek her. She would not allow Diventia to misuse the power of the crystal core any further.

Chro seemed to cover some of the issues with this short story, but I think there's more to be said. While this does seem to be Velika's story more than Karzahni's, there's really nothing about it that makes it stand out. You're spoon feeding me tidbits about a storyline that I already know, events I am certain will occur. Velika considers them, not as a possibility in the future, but as the certainty anyone versed in the canon knows will come to pass. Because of how obvious the references are, any satisfaction in Velika's musings seems empty. Your description of the events between Karzahni and Velika is decent, I think I would've preferred a less direct allusion to future events.

-Ced

@TJA: I'm really glad you enjoyed this story. I wasn't sure who I wanted to wind up getting this assigned to, but I figured the length would be worth their while in the end. You pointed out the flaws that got mentioned above, which isn't necessarily a waste of criticism, but more of a reminder of what I need to watch out for with future work. Thanks for the detailed review.

-Ced

@Yukiko: Being something of an experiment, I can safely say that I have a great deal to learn about perfecting my flash fiction. Dialogue is something I don't think I utilize enough in that department, but I'll try to make use of it with future pieces. Thanks for the review all the same.

-Ced

Due to quote blocks sucking, I'm just going to indent this whole thing. And I'm sorry - I'm so sorry, but this warranted a piece-by-piece breakdown, which people have come to discover is never a good sign of my final analysis.

 

Anhedonia

 

What if you could prevent disasters [sounds like the generic beginning to an RPG. No, I wouldn't approve it in one of those, either. In any case, even though it tries to come up with an attention-grabbing statement, you immediately start off with high-concept that doesn't necessarily bring you straight into the story and doesn't involve any risk, so it doesn't really bring me in. I would suggest being a bit more daring and asking something that implies a lot more, something a bit more artistic. You can still be straightforward, just with a little more elegance.]?[i ran with the first idea that came to mind. As flash fiction goes, the Ambage seems to have predisposed me to keeping my flash fiction work to being finished within half an hour.] Imagine the possibilities if you could anticipate every incident, large and small, and save, not just a few victims, but all of them [it sounds like you're trying to set things up, but it's still overly impersonal and too vague. I guess you're daring to suggest a big concept, which is a risk, but your vagueness betrays your mastery of the bold opening. The objective is to not really feel like you're trying too hard.]. You would be lauded as a hero [This is more personal, because it sounds like you're about to get into a character's personal broodings and how being a hero isn't really all it's chalked up to be, or some other sch theme.]. Do you recall when the golden crystal core was retrieved on a space exploration mission [i read the rest of the story and found that this is never explained, and I don't know what a golden crystal core is. Obviously not the core of the planet Earth, since this was found in space. Then gold isn't crystal, unless you're saying that the crystal was gold in color. However, doing some research, I found out that this is a part of a miniseries that's never been posted on BZPower. I'm not sure how I feel about that, but at least there's a background and, wherever you have continued this story, you have explained the rest. I don't really like how it's presented in this short story, however. I think you should explain the crystal in more detail sooner, perhaps in the first paragraph, and then move on the the affects in a way that's more clearly coherent and suggests a much more definite tone for the story.]?[This is the third installment of five for my Crystal Chronicles mini-series. There is no single topic that I've been able to log them in (though I suppose I could make a blog entry in regards to them). The first entry was a short story called Nascent. The second is a comedy piece called Rewriter. All entries use a "golden crystal core" as a plot device, but are in no way connected to one another beyond that.] Scientists said it could unlock untold abilities within the human gene code [Pet peeve here, but I dislike all this talk about the human genome, and outside of X-Men, I don't really have patience for stories that suggest changing someone's genes can give them powers that have absolutely nothing to do with the way genes create proteins.] [Yeah, that's more of me just getting a little "magical" with my application of science fiction, I suppose.]and, when a privatized corporation bought it and promised to use it for the benefit of humanity [Fat chance. I think you'd have to explain that this is in a future where businesses have far more freedom than what they do now, because this seems unlikely and immediately throws off willing suspension of disbelief. I'm willing to believe in an Eldrich Abomination's crystal, but the existence of such a business immediately departs from everyday logic and suggests a story that isn't properly thought out and hasn't considered quite how the world works, and among the types of realism that I will not compromise in a story is the complex science that is people and society.], [it's a dystopian reimagining of our world, yes. I think I should've shoehorned that word in there somewhere. Dystopian...] I was intrigued. The idea convinced me to join my employer's Halcyon Program, a topic of debate among governments worldwide every single day [Cross out "every single day."]. Physically fit and mentally stable adults were thoroughly [i would use a more commanding sentence structure here so as to get across the point that the tests were thorough, because this should be self-evident and not need to be expressed through a flat adverb.] tested before being subjected to genetic augmentation. When the process was finished, there were nearly one thousand of us operating around the planet. We were no longer bound to the temporal flow as humans should [Cross out "as humans should."]. We had become something else entirely, something alien. My employer calls us Angels, though the reference is superficial at best. [Curious: Are you referencing Carlie's Angels?] [i wasn't sure what that was. Had to perform a Google search. lol]

Each day, without fail, there is a situation that arises somewhere on Earth. A storm rips through a coastal region, an earthquake, a landslide, an avalanche, car crashes, hit and runs, hostage situations, homicides, and, of course, tons of random accidents in between [i don't think you need to list them all. The imagination of the reader really filled in all those blanks when you first asked the main question, and if you can slip it in somwhere in a revised opening paragraph - not necessarily in the beginning but probably near the end so as to transition into this - then you can skip straight to the describing the process of things getting reported.]. [Mm, I guess. I didn't think a few examples would hurt.] Once the incident is reported and my employer knows the details, an Angel is dispatched to prevent the situation [How does the employer get all of the calls? How does he handle them? Furthermore, what is the structure of the system? It needs more fleshing out in order to feel real in any sense, but otherwise what I have here sound like concept sketches and not really a developed idea of the story. You don't have to describe it all at once, but it would be better if your understanding of the world you're working with is a bit more evident from this introduction.]. [in the era of virtual information exchange, getting news about accidents doesn't seem all that difficult to achieve. Rather than "calls" coming in, I considered more of a search engine simply finding and recording events, and then Angels being sent back in time to handle them.] It's quite simple actually. We manipulate the time stream [How does an Angel manipulate the timestream? What are they like when they're not manipulating the time stream? How do they come back, and why doesn't anyone seem concerned about paradoxes?], [Again, we return to the magical side of science fiction. I could give those details, but in a piece like this, I just didn't want to. It wasn't all that important to what I wanted the overarching idea to be.] travel backward through time and get the victims to safety. With natural disasters, the answer is often as easy as filing a report with my employer about where the event will strike and what the safety radius is. From there, the information is sent on to the local area in question and the former victims are removed from harm's way.

It's the human error incidents that are the worst. I'm not really sure why my employer chose to do this, but they developed a mobile phone application for people around the world to download. They wanted everyone to have a voice in how an Angel would decide the fate of a fellow human and, if you downloaded the application, your voice joined the collective [Woah, woah, woah! This makes no sense at all, both from an ethical standpoint and how that would even be managable. Do you mean everyone at once would be aware of the different time-travelling senanigans going on? How would they even keep track of all that stuff? Furthermore, how could one individual's life be subject not to the sovereign law of the land where they committed the crime, but by a worldwide mob rule? This makes no sense on so many levels, and not just because of the ethical implications. It makes no sense because I don't even see how it would functionally work. I think you might be knocking on the door of the wrong Aesop.]. [Dystopia. I really should've used that word. ] When a drunk driver kills someone, when a psycho goes on a shooting rampage, when a terrorist attempts to detonate a building, the application comes into play. When we return to file the report in the past, my employer starts a poll that asks all voters to decide on how the guilty party will be dealt with. Often times, the punishment fits the crime. People who use explosives are to be immolated, gunmen typically have their guns turned on them, and those less-than-sober motorists are diverted from harming anyone other than themselves. The world is quite okay with removing hazards from their world, and Angels exist to oblige them [That doesn't really reflect how society actually works. People are very concerned for their freedoms. Somewhere in this passage you'll have to explain why society is so radically different than the one we know.]. [Addressed above.] As far as the public is concerned, all they ever see is the bright side. They see that we prevented the action before it turned into something more [How exactly do calls come in?]. [Addressed above.] The Halcyon Program derived its name in an effort to make the Earth seem more utopian. For Angels, however, Earth is a halcyon façade.

Due to the temporal augmentation, Angels cannot live ordinary lives [Yet he surfs the internet. I'd like a more immediate sense of who the Angels are as people here, something that really evokes a sense of their presence and lifestyle. You say it's depressing an give a brief view into what that's like. Basically, the job gets stressing. But I want to know more than that. I want to really get under the skin of these characters right away, to get a sense of just how this lifestyle feels, the weird stuff with time and all. I want to understand what the closest to a normal state they will ever get is, because the terms of what it means to be an Angel are a bit slippery in their definition at the moment.]. [Had I approached this as a more lengthy short story, I really think this approach would've been on the table. As it is, confining myself to less than one thousand words was different, but didn't necessarily go over well with you.] We no longer age, no longer eat, no longer sleep. That alien quality I suggested earlier, it has separated us from basic human requirements. But surely the consenting adults, the one thousand healthy, intelligent humans that signed up for the program are okay, right? No one ever hears about Angels losing their minds, right? Of course not, that would be terrible PR for my employer. So during the genetic manipulation, in addition to the temporal abilities, we were programmed for self-termination the instant we realistically considered harming a human. An Angel will return to headquarters and often locate a weapon with which to end themselves, quietly. No one in society ever hears about this. No one in society has ever read the psychological files of my fellow Angels. They know nothing of Angels being diagnosed with antisocial personality disorders, schizophrenia, post-traumatic stress, psychopathic tendencies, and the like. Even something inhuman [but you said that the only thing truly inhuman about Angels is their lack of material nourishment and aging. That doesn't make them so inhuman.] [True.] like Angels can only experience so much loss and destruction in the world before it begins to take a toll on their mind. Combined with giving up the lives we once had, never seeing mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, sons, and daughters ever again, you can imagine we hadn't considered what a price there was to being labeled a hero. [i don't think that the program would have accepted people with spouses and children if they knew those Angels would never see their family again. Also, why can't Angels see their family? They're time travelers. They have all the time in the world. They don't have to be saving it 24/7 because they can literally make their own time. For them, it can be the equivalent of saving one life per day.] [Now here's something I wish I would've brought up. There was explanation about this planned, but it was cut out due to feeling too far removed from the bigger point I was aiming for. It doesn't seem to relevant to delve into after the point like this.]

My employer has diagnosed me with anhedonia. I researched it on the internet and was compelled to agree [Dirty dog, you...You made me look it up myself. I'm not sure if I agree or disagree with you not explaining this for the reader. Personally, I think I would, although that's four times out of five. The other time I will not explain certain concepts, so I'm just not sure. Anyway, I looked it up. It's an inability to find pleasure in anything normally considered pleasurable, such as eating, kissing, hobbies, etc. it sounds interesting, but since this is the title of your piece, I really think that you should really dig your teeth into this concept and play with it more instead of the story primarily being about the pitch and heavy exposition leading up to this paragraph.]. [Again, had this been intended to be longer, I would've fully explored the idea that gave this piece its title.] My line of work is a terrible task, one that is carried out each day, without fail. And if you don't become numb to all that, it's sure to drive you to digging your own grave. I didn't understand people when I was human; I truly don't understand them now. Why are Angels asked to neutralize offenders rather than attempt to help or rehabilitate them? Why has my employer created a society overly dependent on Angels to solve their crises? I suppose it's none of my concern [Yeah right. I find it difficult to relate to that reasoning. He has to be wondering about it just a little more.]. [He's suffering from severe depression. I imagine he doesn't really care about much anymore.] I am an Angel, a prevention asset made to save lives. I save the broken from themselves, but…I cannot save myself.

 

So overall, I don't know what to say. I mean, obviously it's meant as a prelude to a miniseries of yours, but even as a prelude, I have a lot of qualms with the way it is written and think it could use a lot of improvement. Was it really needs is a lot more elegance, and a lot more flow, and it needs to paint a clearer image, because otherwise the exposition creates a very flawed picture that is difficult to really piece together to to various glaring elements in the narrative it's trying to set up.

 

24601

So...I took a moment to review your review. Thanks for reading, I'll take your criticism into mind with my next entry into the Crystal Chronicles mini-series.

-Ced

Anhedonia

What if you could prevent disasters? Imagine the possibilities if you could anticipate every incident, large and small, and save, not just a few victims, but all of them. You would be lauded as a hero. Do you recall when the golden crystal core was retrieved on a space exploration mission? Scientists said it could unlock untold abilities within the human gene code and, when a privatized corporation bought it and promised to use it for the benefit of humanity, I was intrigued. The idea convinced me to join my employer's Halcyon Program, a topic of debate among governments worldwide every single day. Physically fit and mentally stable adults were thoroughly tested before being subjected to genetic augmentation. When the process was finished, there were nearly one thousand of us operating around the planet. We were no longer bound to the temporal flow as humans should. We had become something else entirely, something alien. My employer calls us Angels, though the reference is superficial at best.

Each day, without fail, there is a situation that arises somewhere on Earth. A storm rips through a coastal region, an earthquake, a landslide, an avalanche, car crashes, hit and runs, hostage situations, homicides, and, of course, tons of random accidents in between. Once the incident is reported and my employer knows the details, an Angel is dispatched to prevent the situation. It's quite simple actually. We manipulate the time stream, travel backward through time and get the victims to safety. With natural disasters, the answer is often as easy as filing a report with my employer about where the event will strike and what the safety radius is. From there, the information is sent on to the local area in question and the former victims are removed from harm's way.

It's the human error incidents that are the worst. I'm not really sure why my employer chose to do this, but they developed a mobile phone application for people around the world to download. They wanted everyone to have a voice in how an Angel would decide the fate of a fellow human and, if you downloaded the application, your voice joined the collective. When a drunk driver kills someone, when a psycho goes on a shooting rampage, when a terrorist attempts to detonate a building, the application comes into play. When we return to file the report in the past, my employer starts a poll that asks all voters to decide on how the guilty party will be dealt with. Often times, the punishment fits the crime. People who use explosives are to be immolated, gunmen typically have their guns turned on them, and those less-than-sober motorists are diverted from harming anyone other than themselves. The world is quite okay with removing hazards from their world, and Angels exist to oblige them. As far as the public is concerned, all they ever see is the bright side. They see that we prevented the action before it turned into something more. The Halcyon Program derived its name in an effort to make the Earth seem more utopian. For Angels, however, Earth is a halcyon façade.

Due to the temporal augmentation, Angels cannot live ordinary lives. We no longer age, no longer eat, no longer sleep. That alien quality I suggested earlier, it has separated us from basic human requirements. But surely the consenting adults, the one thousand healthy, intelligent humans that signed up for the program are okay, right? No one ever hears about Angels losing their minds, right? Of course not, that would be terrible PR for my employer. So during the genetic manipulation, in addition to the temporal abilities, we were programmed for self-termination the instant we realistically considered harming a human. An Angel will return to headquarters and often locate a weapon with which to end themselves, quietly. No one in society ever hears about this. No one in society has ever read the psychological files of my fellow Angels. They know nothing of Angels being diagnosed with antisocial personality disorders, schizophrenia, post-traumatic stress, psychopathic tendencies, and the like. Even something inhuman like Angels can only experience so much loss and destruction in the world before it begins to take a toll on their mind. Combined with giving up the lives we once had, never seeing mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, sons, and daughters ever again, you can imagine we hadn't considered what a price there was to being labeled a hero.

My employer has diagnosed me with anhedonia. I researched it on the internet and was compelled to agree. My line of work is a terrible task, one that is carried out each day, without fail. And if you don't become numb to all that, it's sure to drive you to digging your own grave. I didn't understand people when I was human; I truly don't understand them now. Why are Angels asked to neutralize offenders rather than attempt to help or rehabilitate them? Why has my employer created a society overly dependent on Angels to solve their crises? I suppose it's none of my concern. I am an Angel, a prevention asset made to save lives. I save the broken from themselves, but…I cannot save myself.

@strakkice: Wow, now I'm getting reviews by referral. Thanks so much for coming in and reviewing this. To inspire so much emotion from a reader, especially so with the tragic conclusion of things, it reminds me why I love doing this. As we speak, I'm piecing together ideas for a sequel that I plan to begin writing in roughly a year. A lot in my life is about to change and I hope to draw some inspiration from the upcoming events that are sure to keep me very busy.

I'd be happy to see some fan art of the gang. Even if it isn't necessarily treated as "official," knowing the impact Cenotaphs has created is just...so awesome. Thanks for reading.

-Ced

@Tanu: Hey, thanks for at least coming in and telling me you liked the story. I always appreciate the big, over-the-top constructive posts that give me some idea of where to go next, but hearing from fans that got some entertainment value out of it, that works just as well. You're welcome.

-Ced

@fishers: I know Project Sky Shield sorta gets tossed on the backburner (with a vague promise that Skyvir will get her funding back in several years), but after everything she experiences aboard the station, I'm pretty sure the Paragon Corporation would be willing to help her out. Where things go from there is anyone's guess, but I like to believe Skyvir finds the cure she's been working toward. Blindly optimistic, I suppose.

Being a piece of my "Crystal Chronicles" series alongside the comedy piece Rewriter, I expect to cover some more sci-fi in the near future. Thanks for reading.

@Aderia:

Dear Ms. Aderia,

Thank you for writing to me! I love hearing from fans of my work and, while I would've loved to see your colorful Christmas pens in action, I'll trust your father's decision on the matter.

I'm happy to hear that you thoroughly enjoyed this story, but I'm a little concerned about your printer. If need be, I can certainly send my next lengthy piece via the postal service at no charge to you. I imagine you need that printer for school assignments and I'd feel awful if my work were responsible for putting it out of commission.

Admittedly, it warms my heart to know you go out of your way to add smiley faces and frowny faces to the work you read. It shows an enthusiasm for writing, be it good or bad. Nascent presents itself as lessons to be learned, one of the most important being that which you picked up on - honesty. It never does well to deceive others, but Skyvir redeems herself in the end.

Your words were a real treat and I want to let you know that you can expect more work from me soon. I couldn't ignore a pleasant letter like this, especially considering it's my first piece of fan mail and it came straight from my biggest fan. Thank you for being so kind as to read Nascent and for the wonderful letter. Feel free to write me again one day; I'm looking forward to it.

Yours sincerely,

Cederak