Lufli
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Hello, fellow writing enthusiasts! I would really appreciate some feedback on the beginning of my novel. Every type of feedback is appreciated. Thank you in advance.
As I haven't created a novel yet, I'll just drop it right here.
As I haven't created a novel yet, I'll just drop it right here.
People of all ages stood and sat so tightly they kept bumping shoulders as if it were normal. A narrow aisle ran down the middle, barely enough for one person to squeeze through without apologizing. The kids running around made it worse.
Two torches burned on opposite wooden walls, painting faces a warm red, but the light thinned before it reached the aisle.
Amid the people, Levin—a young man with black hair and dark skin—pushed down the aisle. Even there, elbows and hips clipped him, while sweat brushed his skin.
He turned his shoulders sideways and slipped past a knot of bodies to claim a patch of floor two steps ahead. One corner of his mouth hitched in disgust.
Whoever designed this place clearly wasn’t the one who’d have to run, Levin thought.
On his left shoulder sat a girl, kicking her feet playfully against his chest. He gently supported her with his left hand, steadying her as she leaned into him. Her arms clung around his neck, while her hair stuck to his face half the time.
“Okay. Here we are...” He lifted the little girl with both hands and put her on the planked floor.
“Look, Elia, so many people to play with...” Levin added with a smile.
Elia looked around...
...until her smile faded.
“Levin, why are they crying?” She pointed at a woman near them, hugging a young man—probably similar in age to Levin.
“Must be tired. I wouldn’t know, you're the crying expert.” His brows twitched for a moment as he leaned slightly to match the girl’s height. She didn’t quite reach his hips.
The less she knows, the better.
Elia, on the other hand, didn’t answer. She leaned back and started gnawing on her fingers, though her fingernails were already worn down to half their length.
“No... You lied... Don’t go, Levin. Please!” She shook her head.
Levin’s smile faded, too. Slowly.
“You know, I must do this.” He straightened again.
“It’s not gonna take long, so just play with the other kids.” He nodded toward a group of kids weaving between knees and boots.
In a heartbeat, Levin turned around, hiding his face from his sister. His teeth dug into his lower lip and his throat tightened.
“I’m not gonna die. Don’t worry,” his voice shook more than he wanted it to, “I’ll be standing right in front of the door.”
Unconsciously, Levin picked the exact words his father had before leaving for the fight. It made his shoulders tense up.
Then a sound cracked. First only a sob, then it turned into a cry.
When he realized, Levin turned and dropped to one knee, the other leg braced with his heel planted.
His sister was wiping her tears with the palms of her hands.
Fuck, I messed up.
When he saw her like this, something in his chest tightened, sucking air out of his throat.
“Listen.” He tapped her temple. “Dad didn’t go out there because he felt like being a hero.”
He pointed at her, then himself. “He did it so you and I could keep breathing.”
After a moment of crying, Levin sighed. “You told me you wouldn’t cry, remember?”
Her crying quieted but didn’t stop.
He grabbed his shirt from beneath the chest plate, near his hips, and tore off a small strip of cloth, while she still wiped away her tears. Her wet hands caught the torchlight too brightly.
“Your arm.” Levin held out his hand, holding the torn cloth.
Elia stared at it—at last stopped crying and held out her hand hesitantly. Before she reached Levin’s hand, he grabbed her arm softly and tied the small strip around her biceps in a loop.
After removing his right glove, he looked around the room, as if searching. The room—although not visible to everyone—was filled with seelen, thick strings of blue light. They swayed with the air like feathers, while their very essence, tiny specks of light, were spread like steam droplets in fog.
That is, if you could see them at all.
Levin felt a cold prickling on his skin as his fingers went through them. Then the seelen condensed between his fingers, forming a thread that increased in length as the concentration of the strings thinned in the air around. It made a soft hiss when the blue light glowed stronger, until it collapsed to a very dark blue—hardly distinguishable from black.
Nobody turned to him. Even his sister, standing right there, didn’t seem to notice it.
Then, as he opened his hand, the tether floated down onto his palm.
He tapped the loop on his sister’s arm, then the tip of his glove on the ring finger of his left hand. The tether he formed now connected the two objects, first taut, then bowing toward the middle.
Meanwhile, Elia went from sniffling to watching with widened eyes. She touched the tether and pulled it up, creating a slight arc.
So, she’s starting to see it.
Ultimately, Levin rose again, this time with a set jaw. He meticulously put his right glove back on, finger by finger, as his fingers trembled violently.
“See, we’re connected. If something happens to me, you’ll notice, okay?” He paused.
“Be brave!” He said with a pat on her head and a smile. A crooked smile.
Maybe this was what she should have told him instead. With a strong breath through her nose—pulling all the snot back—she nodded.
Levin faced the only door that led out—and in. Ten steps, if the crowd let him, even though he stood in the middle of the room. Its deep black metal didn’t seem to reflect light at all, which made it seem softer than it is.
After making a few large steps, Levin was interrupted by a strong pull on his left glove. Immediately his brows knit.
“What now?” He asked without turning, eyes lifting.
“Promise me... Promise you you’ll escape if it gets dangerous.” His sister was pulling her right arm toward her chin.
“Of course I will! Trust me, they won’t even be able to see me.” He jogged in place with a choppy laugh.
His act didn’t make her laugh. She just clenched her hand around her biceps, making her knuckles go white.
I tried, at least.
The doorknob, also metal, screeched as Levin pulled it down.
Finally, Levin left the evacuation shelter. Its door opened onto a single cement step, which sat half-sunk in the mud of the alley ahead. The alley was decorated with five silver, unlit lanterns.
Many huts pressed against each other, bordering the alley on both sides. When Levin stared left and right, the alley didn’t seem to end, as the darkness cut into his view in the distance.
Usually, you could see that this alley was cut by another farther in the north, maybe a hundred paces away. That's where the host shelter was located.
If they reach that little creature, we might have to eat sand for breakfast. Levin’s heart skipped a beat when he thought about it.
His chin lifted as he inspected the three moons in the sky, barely above the huts’ roofs. One of them was gray like ash, the brightest of the three. Not every day was it fully illuminated—today it was. Beneath it, to the right, a smaller moon shone faint red, though its light was weaker. The last one, beneath the gray moon to the left, was void—a dark only broken by the surrounding stars.
Levin drew a deep breath.
The night wind reached inside his collar and cooled off his whole body. Behind, he pulled the door in but didn’t completely close it.
A few weapons—two spears and two swords—still leaned against the shelter’s outer wall. Next to them, a young woman leaned with one leg crossed over the other. The paleness in her face pressed against the dark circles under her eyes. They always carried that tired sharpness...
She smiled, peeking over her red scarf.
“You’ll be the first to vanish, huh?” She copied his little jog and smirked.
“Great. Real inspiring, comrade.”
Levin turned to face her, while heat rose in his neck and caught his ears.
“You know I didn’t mean—” Levin paused, then stared at the ground.
“... Forget it.”
Crea’s smile faded. “You’re no fun.”
Suddenly, a gust of wind made the boards screech; it pushed back Levin’s and Crea’s hair, while Crea covered her left ear, flinching.
Their eyes went to the big man, who just swung his axe and crushed it into the ground. His feet sank into the mud three paces to Levin’s right.
“That’s some energy,” Reo laughed. “Save some for the fight.”
“Grab your weapons. The enemy won’t wait for you,” the elder said from a distance.
No need to worry about that.
Four black identical daggers, shifting downwards inside their sheaths, clattered with every move around Levin’s hips. The cross guard was pretty big for a dagger, and the pommel, longer than it should be, formed like a pyramid with sharp edges.
Levin turned away from Crea and stepped into the mud. It stuck to his shoes but wasn’t wet enough to let him sink further than his heels.
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop,” he said.
“You know it’s not easy to control, jerk.”
“Try harder.”
Crea frowned, grabbed her sword, and stepped onto the alley herself.
“Fuck you.”
She approached Levin from behind; every step sank into the mud more than it should have.
Levin, on the other hand, didn’t turn.
“Quit playing around!” the elder screamed, standing a couple of paces left of Reo.
His hair shone gray under the three moons. His beard consisted of a few stubble hairs that barely made it through his skin. Surviving long enough to grow old is an achievement in this village.
Worthless, unless you really want to bury the people after, if you ask me.
Reo scratched his neck and lumbered toward the elder, swinging the axe back onto his shoulder.
“You sure the signals are right? If not, everyone panicked for nothing—”
“When were they ever wrong? Rituals don’t lie.”
He held his hands behind his back and walked up and down the alley.
“Stay sharp, everyone! We gotta be ready if they come—”
At that moment, all four stiffened and hovered over their weapons.
Two torches burned on opposite wooden walls, painting faces a warm red, but the light thinned before it reached the aisle.
Amid the people, Levin—a young man with black hair and dark skin—pushed down the aisle. Even there, elbows and hips clipped him, while sweat brushed his skin.
He turned his shoulders sideways and slipped past a knot of bodies to claim a patch of floor two steps ahead. One corner of his mouth hitched in disgust.
Whoever designed this place clearly wasn’t the one who’d have to run, Levin thought.
On his left shoulder sat a girl, kicking her feet playfully against his chest. He gently supported her with his left hand, steadying her as she leaned into him. Her arms clung around his neck, while her hair stuck to his face half the time.
“Okay. Here we are...” He lifted the little girl with both hands and put her on the planked floor.
“Look, Elia, so many people to play with...” Levin added with a smile.
Elia looked around...
...until her smile faded.
“Levin, why are they crying?” She pointed at a woman near them, hugging a young man—probably similar in age to Levin.
“Must be tired. I wouldn’t know, you're the crying expert.” His brows twitched for a moment as he leaned slightly to match the girl’s height. She didn’t quite reach his hips.
The less she knows, the better.
Elia, on the other hand, didn’t answer. She leaned back and started gnawing on her fingers, though her fingernails were already worn down to half their length.
“No... You lied... Don’t go, Levin. Please!” She shook her head.
Levin’s smile faded, too. Slowly.
“You know, I must do this.” He straightened again.
“It’s not gonna take long, so just play with the other kids.” He nodded toward a group of kids weaving between knees and boots.
In a heartbeat, Levin turned around, hiding his face from his sister. His teeth dug into his lower lip and his throat tightened.
“I’m not gonna die. Don’t worry,” his voice shook more than he wanted it to, “I’ll be standing right in front of the door.”
Unconsciously, Levin picked the exact words his father had before leaving for the fight. It made his shoulders tense up.
Then a sound cracked. First only a sob, then it turned into a cry.
When he realized, Levin turned and dropped to one knee, the other leg braced with his heel planted.
His sister was wiping her tears with the palms of her hands.
Fuck, I messed up.
When he saw her like this, something in his chest tightened, sucking air out of his throat.
“Listen.” He tapped her temple. “Dad didn’t go out there because he felt like being a hero.”
He pointed at her, then himself. “He did it so you and I could keep breathing.”
After a moment of crying, Levin sighed. “You told me you wouldn’t cry, remember?”
Her crying quieted but didn’t stop.
He grabbed his shirt from beneath the chest plate, near his hips, and tore off a small strip of cloth, while she still wiped away her tears. Her wet hands caught the torchlight too brightly.
“Your arm.” Levin held out his hand, holding the torn cloth.
Elia stared at it—at last stopped crying and held out her hand hesitantly. Before she reached Levin’s hand, he grabbed her arm softly and tied the small strip around her biceps in a loop.
After removing his right glove, he looked around the room, as if searching. The room—although not visible to everyone—was filled with seelen, thick strings of blue light. They swayed with the air like feathers, while their very essence, tiny specks of light, were spread like steam droplets in fog.
That is, if you could see them at all.
Levin felt a cold prickling on his skin as his fingers went through them. Then the seelen condensed between his fingers, forming a thread that increased in length as the concentration of the strings thinned in the air around. It made a soft hiss when the blue light glowed stronger, until it collapsed to a very dark blue—hardly distinguishable from black.
Nobody turned to him. Even his sister, standing right there, didn’t seem to notice it.
Then, as he opened his hand, the tether floated down onto his palm.
He tapped the loop on his sister’s arm, then the tip of his glove on the ring finger of his left hand. The tether he formed now connected the two objects, first taut, then bowing toward the middle.
Meanwhile, Elia went from sniffling to watching with widened eyes. She touched the tether and pulled it up, creating a slight arc.
So, she’s starting to see it.
Ultimately, Levin rose again, this time with a set jaw. He meticulously put his right glove back on, finger by finger, as his fingers trembled violently.
“See, we’re connected. If something happens to me, you’ll notice, okay?” He paused.
“Be brave!” He said with a pat on her head and a smile. A crooked smile.
Maybe this was what she should have told him instead. With a strong breath through her nose—pulling all the snot back—she nodded.
Levin faced the only door that led out—and in. Ten steps, if the crowd let him, even though he stood in the middle of the room. Its deep black metal didn’t seem to reflect light at all, which made it seem softer than it is.
After making a few large steps, Levin was interrupted by a strong pull on his left glove. Immediately his brows knit.
“What now?” He asked without turning, eyes lifting.
“Promise me... Promise you you’ll escape if it gets dangerous.” His sister was pulling her right arm toward her chin.
“Of course I will! Trust me, they won’t even be able to see me.” He jogged in place with a choppy laugh.
His act didn’t make her laugh. She just clenched her hand around her biceps, making her knuckles go white.
I tried, at least.
The doorknob, also metal, screeched as Levin pulled it down.
Finally, Levin left the evacuation shelter. Its door opened onto a single cement step, which sat half-sunk in the mud of the alley ahead. The alley was decorated with five silver, unlit lanterns.
Many huts pressed against each other, bordering the alley on both sides. When Levin stared left and right, the alley didn’t seem to end, as the darkness cut into his view in the distance.
Usually, you could see that this alley was cut by another farther in the north, maybe a hundred paces away. That's where the host shelter was located.
If they reach that little creature, we might have to eat sand for breakfast. Levin’s heart skipped a beat when he thought about it.
His chin lifted as he inspected the three moons in the sky, barely above the huts’ roofs. One of them was gray like ash, the brightest of the three. Not every day was it fully illuminated—today it was. Beneath it, to the right, a smaller moon shone faint red, though its light was weaker. The last one, beneath the gray moon to the left, was void—a dark only broken by the surrounding stars.
Levin drew a deep breath.
The night wind reached inside his collar and cooled off his whole body. Behind, he pulled the door in but didn’t completely close it.
A few weapons—two spears and two swords—still leaned against the shelter’s outer wall. Next to them, a young woman leaned with one leg crossed over the other. The paleness in her face pressed against the dark circles under her eyes. They always carried that tired sharpness...
She smiled, peeking over her red scarf.
“You’ll be the first to vanish, huh?” She copied his little jog and smirked.
“Great. Real inspiring, comrade.”
Levin turned to face her, while heat rose in his neck and caught his ears.
“You know I didn’t mean—” Levin paused, then stared at the ground.
“... Forget it.”
Crea’s smile faded. “You’re no fun.”
Suddenly, a gust of wind made the boards screech; it pushed back Levin’s and Crea’s hair, while Crea covered her left ear, flinching.
Their eyes went to the big man, who just swung his axe and crushed it into the ground. His feet sank into the mud three paces to Levin’s right.
“That’s some energy,” Reo laughed. “Save some for the fight.”
“Grab your weapons. The enemy won’t wait for you,” the elder said from a distance.
No need to worry about that.
Four black identical daggers, shifting downwards inside their sheaths, clattered with every move around Levin’s hips. The cross guard was pretty big for a dagger, and the pommel, longer than it should be, formed like a pyramid with sharp edges.
Levin turned away from Crea and stepped into the mud. It stuck to his shoes but wasn’t wet enough to let him sink further than his heels.
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop,” he said.
“You know it’s not easy to control, jerk.”
“Try harder.”
Crea frowned, grabbed her sword, and stepped onto the alley herself.
“Fuck you.”
She approached Levin from behind; every step sank into the mud more than it should have.
Levin, on the other hand, didn’t turn.
“Quit playing around!” the elder screamed, standing a couple of paces left of Reo.
His hair shone gray under the three moons. His beard consisted of a few stubble hairs that barely made it through his skin. Surviving long enough to grow old is an achievement in this village.
Worthless, unless you really want to bury the people after, if you ask me.
Reo scratched his neck and lumbered toward the elder, swinging the axe back onto his shoulder.
“You sure the signals are right? If not, everyone panicked for nothing—”
“When were they ever wrong? Rituals don’t lie.”
He held his hands behind his back and walked up and down the alley.
“Stay sharp, everyone! We gotta be ready if they come—”
At that moment, all four stiffened and hovered over their weapons.
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