- This topic has 18 replies, 4 voices, and was last updated 12 hours, 4 minutes ago by
.
-
Posts
-
HELLO!!!
So excited because today is November and now I can release the beginning of the second book in my saga!
(tagging a few others who might have been reading the first one. @koshka @elishavet-pidyon)
Again, this is in draft form still, so feedback and critiques are welcome.
The Veil of Night
The Flames of Hope Saga
Book 2Then they cried to the lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
He brought them out of the veil of night and the shadow of death,
and broke their bonds apart.~Psalm 107:13-14
Rain spattered on roofs and collected in puddles on the streets. The sky was dark and puffy with clouds, like an evil bruise. The thunder rumbled low, more felt then heard, and the lightning that flickered was more like a wave then a jagged blade. Many who recalled that night would think to themselves that the sky was weeping.
If so, many wept with it.
The narrow streets were devoid of living creatures. The windows of houses were shuttered, and the doors barred. After the evil that had occurred that day, many had gone home in tears, and even those who agreed with the deed done had slunk in out of the storm like kicked dogs.
Down a narrow street, filled with houses whose walls rose side by side with no space in between, stood a building. It had once been a nice house. A wide kitchen, several bedrooms upstairs, and a few large rooms on the main floor. Now however, it was pockmarked with damage caused by shrapnel and was in need of repair. But where would materials come from to rebuild? That had been the question asked by many.
There was a stone staircase running along the side of the house, separating it from the neighboring building and leading up to the roof. These stairs were now a slow waterfall as the heavy rain continued to pour from the sky. The streets here had once drained well, but little houses had been wedged between big ones, and the whole ally was as closed off as a roofless hallway. The street was filled with ankle-deep, dirty water, that swirled and splashed as it sought a place to go.
Upstairs, in a little room of this house, was a boy. He lay on his side, staring at the window, his blanket pulled close by clenched fists. He didn’t move or make a sound. He just lay and listened to the rain and watched as the lightning flashed, sending shadows scuttling across his room to disappear in the darkness that followed. It was a sound and sight that mirrored the despair inside his own little heart. He didn’t cry— he had not cried at all that day.
He couldn’t.
The shock and pain that filled him was too powerful for tears, and so he lay silent—
silent as he had been since the moment he had seen him.
His blanket was warm, but a cold chill still wrapped its fingers about the child, and he couldn’t push it away. He wanted to think, he wanted to remember, but he didn’t dare. If he did, then the pain would come, and he couldn’t bear that. He was afraid of the dark, and afraid to be alone, but he was too scared to move or even call out. Evil seemed everywhere, and he felt it like a thick, dark cloak.
He was tired— tired of trying to stay awake, tired of fighting memory and thought. He began to let his guard down, and the wall he had built up around memory slowly crumpled. In a moment, the beast had launched from its prison, and there was no chasing him back. The boy stiffened, and then he was there again. Memory had won; it had dragged him back. He wanted to scream, to cry out for someone to save him, but his mouth was dry, and he didn’t have the strength to open it.
There it was, the building gleaming white in the sun, the people, the soldiers, the shouting… and then him.
No! No! No! No not there! Please not there!
He squeezed his eyes shut against the memory, and in the darkness everything became horribly clear, and he saw it all again. There he was, walking firmly between the yelling people. Some were cursing him while others cried and pleaded. He didn’t seem to hear them. He was looking straight ahead. He seemed weary beyond imagining, yet his eyes were clear and trusting.
He was almost there, and then he turned, and their eyes met. For a moment they looked at one another. The blue eyes that had seemed so strange to him at first, were strong and bright, full of strength and courage. There was sorrow in that look, but also unspeakable joy. If only the memory would stay there, and he could forever look into that face. But now, he was turning away.
No, I can’t see that! Not again! Oh stay! Stay! Stay! Don’t turn! Please don’t go away! Don’t go there! I can’t follow! Stay with me!
And then, a piercing scream broke the silence of the little bedroom, and the boy found his voice. “Aaron! Aaron, come back!”
A violent shudder raced through him, shaking his whole frame, and he wept wrenching sobs that ripped through him. “Aaron!” he screamed into the darkness. “Aaron come back!”
There was a flurry of steps, and the next instant candlelight flooded the room, and gentle arms were about him. “Hush, hush, darling,” whispered a gentle voice, and hands stroked his head and back.
The boy continued to cry out, and the young woman pressed him close to her, kissing his forehead gently. “Joseph, Joseph can you hear me?” she asked softly.
The awful, keening cry ceased, and Joseph melted into tears as he realized he was safe. His little arms went about Sabina’s neck, and he wept against her shoulder.
Sabina cuddled him close and rocked him gently in her arms, crying softly into his hair. “Oh dearest, dearest, darling boy,” she whispered. “I love you, my boy. I love you.”
At last, Joseph’s crying slowed, and he lay against Sabina, trembling with the force of the tears he had shed. Sabina pressed him to her, her hand going back and forth over his head. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Oh Joseph, I should have protected you better. Will you ever forgive me?”
“I had to come,” Joseph choked out. “Oh, Sabina I just had to! I needed to see him one last time!” He looked up at her, not loosening his hold around her neck. “I couldn’t stay here while he…” Joseph choked on a sob. “I love him, Sabina. I had to be there! I didn’t want him to be alone.”
Sabina nodded, and tears rolled down her cheeks as she kissed his forehead again. “I understand,” she whispered. She did understand, for hadn’t it been the same with her? She had hardly been able to go, yet she knew she must see it happen. If she had stayed, she never could have lived with herself. If Joseph had stayed… well perhaps it was for the best that he had been there.
Sabina held him for a time, rocking gently. After a while, she spoke. “Joesph, are you awake?”
He did not reply, and she felt his arms had gone limp. Gently, Sabina lowered him to the bed and slipped one arm out from under him. Joseph lurched and twisted, grabbing wildly for her, his fingers entwining in her hair and dress. He began screaming and shaking. “Don’t go! Don’t Go!”
Sabina gathered him close. “Joseph, Joseph! It’ me, I’m here!”
Joseph continued to twist in her grasp, his hand getting more tangled in her hair, while the other held the collar of her dress, nearly choking her.
“Joseph, wake up!” Sabina gasped.
Steps sounded hurriedly across the hall, and a very tired Noah came to the door, tense and ready for trouble. “Sabina, are you alright?” He saw Joseph thrashing and hurried forward. “What’s going on?”
“Nightmare!” Sabina gasped out, reaching for the hand that held her collar.
Noah caught hold of Joseph’s hands, trying to pry open the boy’s fists and free Sabina’s. Joseph arched back and wailed. “Don’t leave me!”
Noah freed Sabina, and the boy tossed and wept, screaming wildly.
Sabina burst into tears. “Oh, Father, help him!”
Noah had Joseph’s hands pinned down, and he spoke firmly but gently. “Joseph! Jospeh, wake up! It’s alright Joseph, I have you. You’re safe.”
A shudder raced through Joseph, and he lay very still, looking with wild frightened eyes at Noah. All at once he went limp, his face streaked with sweat and tears. Noah slowly let the boy go and then gathered him up in his arms. “Joseph, I’m here, it’s Noah. I won’t leave you.”
Joseph sobbed into Noah’s shirt, and Noah made soothing noises, worriedly watching Sabina, who sat with her face in her hands weeping. Joseph’s voice broke the stillness, sounding out choked and broken. “I want Sabina! Where’s Sabina!”
With a little cry, Sabina reached out and gathered him into her arms. “Joseph I’m here, I’m here!” she said, gently rocking him back and forth. She looked up at Noah and saw the tears in his eyes. She tightened her hold on Joesph. It broke her heart to see and hear his pain and grief. He was so young and innocent!
At last, Joseph’s wailing quieted. Noah laid a hand on the boy’s head. “Father God, help Joseph, help us all. Bring us peace. Please! Give us peace, comfort us, and heal us. Aaron trusted You, Father. He trusted You to the end. Help us to trust You now. Please comfort us.”
“Yes Father, yes,” Sabina whispered.
“Why?” Joseph sobbed. “Why did God let it happen? If He’s good and powerful, how could He let Aaron die?”
“I… I don’t know why he let Aaron die,” Sabina whispered. “I don’t know…” Her voice caught, and she drew in a deep breath. “I do know that He is good. God will use Aaron’s death for good! What men intended for evil, God will use for good. I know He will. We may not see it clearly now, and maybe we never will. But God will use this evil for good.”
“Already good has come of it,” Noah said softly. “Aaron’s guard, Adrian, has expressed a deep interest in Aaron’s faith. An Imperial guard wants to know about Christ!”
Joseph looked at him, his brown eyes large and worried.
Noah laid a hand on the boy’s head. “God has called Aaron home. Aaron lives with Him forever, and by his death here, a young man may be rescued from eternal death. God’s plan is slowly unfolding before us! We must trust Him. He will help us. I know it.”
Joseph nestled close to Sabina, and a tired yawn slipped from him. “Go to sleep Joseph. You’re safe,” Sabina comforted. “God is here with us. He will always be with you,”
“Will you stay until I’m asleep?” Joseph asked in a small voice.
“Yes, of course I will!” Sabina replied. She gently lowered him back to the bed, and drew the blanket up, tucking him in.
At a nod from Sabina, Noah stood and quietly left the room.
Sabina laid a cool hand on Joseph’s flushed, tearstained cheek. “Go to sleep, dearest,” she said gently.
Joseph’s eyes fluttered and began to slowly close. Then, they opened part way, and he spoke softly. “He wasn’t afraid Sabina. He looked at me, and I saw he wasn’t afraid.”
Tears slipped down Sabina’s cheeks as smoothed back his hair from his forehead. Joseph’s lashes fluttered against his flushed face, and then stilled. His breathing deepened, and soon he was asleep.
After a time, Sabina rose and looked down on the sleeping child, his dark hair tumbled over the white pillow, his lips parted slightly, and his face stained with traces of tears. She bent and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”
Sabina took her candle and slipped from the room, closing the door gently behind her. She walked to the door across the hall and pushed it open a crack. In the room slept the only other children in the small orphanage. There were two of them. Asher, who was nine, and Eric, who was six. She crossed to one bed and then the other, pulling up blankets and smoothing pillows. Aaron had found the two boys in the streets and had brought them to her. She still remembered that day distinctly. They had no family, for their father and brother had died on the walls in the last battle for Ardenta, and their mother had died in childbirth. There had been many other children in the little home then, but now it was only these two brothers and Joseph.
Sabina quietly slipped from the room, closing the door behind her. She passed several empty bedrooms, and paused outside the one that Aaron had shared with Noah and Darrien. She heard voices from behind the closed door, and knew Noah and Darrien were both awake. She hesitated, and then walked down the hall to her room. She had not dared to go there all day.
Now, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
Sabina stepped in and set the candle on the desk. She kept her back to the bed, her eyes tightly closed. Drawing in a slow breath, she turned and looked.
On the bed, is soft fabric spilling in gentle folds, lay a pure white dress. Beside it was a wedding crown, woven of slender wood and decorated with flowers .
Sabina sat down on the edge of the bed and trailed a finger over the beautiful dress. She had prayerfully laid it out this morning— the morning of her wedding.
She had hoped and prayed that Aaron would be released and would come home and marry her.
He had not.
Sabina closed her eyes and saw again that moment when Aaron had looked at her for the last time. His eyes had been so full of love and trust. She remembered holding him as the rain fell. Then the young guard, Adrian, had come to them. He had helped them to slip out of the city and bury Aaron beside Turin, one of his closest friends.
Her brother.
Sabina remembered the rain pouring down and saw again the moment she had knelt over the grave and laid the bouquet she was to have carried in her wedding over the fresh dirt.
Tears filled Sabina’s eyes, and she buried her face in her wedding dress and wept.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
Hello!
Book 2 time, I see. Well let’s get started on it.
Think this is a good opening. It sets a darker stage than the previous book, but you warned us. Also, how the characters act makes sense. Joseph is traumatized and Sabina is trying to be strong for him while dealing with her struggles.
So for this book, are you going back and forth between Joseph and Sabina’s perspectives?
Hello! Hello!
Wonderful! First feedback! (I’ve over here being excited about crazy things like this)
Think this is a good opening. It sets a darker stage than the previous book, but you warned us.
Yes, I am going for a darker stage.
Also, how the characters act makes sense. Joseph is traumatized and Sabina is trying to be strong for him while dealing with her struggles.
Good. I’m glad this seems real. I’ve never been around someone who just watched someone they loved quiet brutally murdered, however I have been in some traumatizing situations, and I’ve also heard a lot from my dad. (he deals with this all the time in his line of work) But, i was still hesitant. I’m glad this came across realistic rather then forced.
So for this book, are you going back and forth between Joseph and Sabina’s perspectives?
No. I only do that once…..? But I really, really needed that scene to set Sabina’s stage, and there really wasn’t another way to get that scene, because she wouldn’t have broken down like that in front of Joseph. I want to drive the point that he is not he only one hurting. She just watched her fiance die on their wedding day. She’s having a really hard time.
I think it is an alright perspective change, and flows with the scene, and I feel okay taking the liberty, even though this book is otherwise all in Joseph’s POV.
Would you agree?
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
Many who recalled that night would think to themselves that the sky was weeping.
If so, many wept with it.
Love this!
I’m interested to read more, even though I don’t really know much about it since I haven’t read most of the first book. I might have read an chapter or two. 😅
"Be careful, for writing books is endless, and much study wears you out." Eccl. 12:12
AW! Thank you so much!!!!
I’ll make sure to tag you as I add more!
Would you like a brief summery of the last book, or do you just want to figure things out from here?
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
@ellette-giselle I like it!!
I do think it was kinda hard to figure out who the POV character is. Maybe make that a little more clear.
Where'd I get ya this time? The liver? The kidney? I'm runnin' outta places to put holes in ya.
Uh, I may just have to die on this hill. I really, really need that scene.
It will become clear as soon as the next few scenes are posted.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
No. I only do that once…..? But I really, really needed that scene to set Sabina’s stage, and there really wasn’t another way to get that scene, because she wouldn’t have broken down like that in front of Joseph. I want to drive the point that he is not he only one hurting. She just watched her fiance die on their wedding day. She’s having a really hard time.
I think it is an alright perspective change, and flows with the scene, and I feel okay taking the liberty, even though this book is otherwise all in Joseph’s POV.
Would you agree?
Okay. So how does this benefit the story for Joseph? Since it is his story now. You told me you were planning to have Joseph think his faith is weak because he saw strong faith in Aaron. How does this brief peek into Sabina’s mind add to that? I wonder if it might be a greater benefit to the story if Sabina looks strong as well.
@ellette-giselle ok! I didn’t say remove the scene, it’s good.
Where'd I get ya this time? The liver? The kidney? I'm runnin' outta places to put holes in ya.
It benefits you, the reader.
We know Aaron was not the perfect man Joseph thought he was.
We now know Sabina is not the strong, fearless young woman that Joseph thinks she is.
We can see the flaws in Joseph’s thinking, and understand them, but they are flaws.
Plus, I can’t go kill the poor thing’s Fiance without giving her a brief scene to cry.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
I mean, didn’t you used to think, when you were a little kid, that your dad was equal to super man, and your mom was flawless? (I sure did)
Now that we’re older, we can understand that they are just human, but when we are young, mom and dad can do anything and they’ve never once done something wrong in their lives.
The adults around us know the truth, but we have to grow before seeing it.
I’m just letting you, the reader, be an adult for this story. (ain’t that nice of me?)
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
Very well, continue.
Alright, I will.
Shorter section, but I want to make sure Joseph is making sense and his character is developing well before I post more.
A week passed.
For Joseph, it was a time of raw pain. He had always been shy and quiet, but now he seemed even more so. He seemed older than his years, and graver. Sabina became worried, for Joseph wanted nothing to do with children his own age, and often sat alone in some dark corner. Whenever she tried to approach him, he spoke kindly, but no more than he possibly had to.
One evening, Joseph was sitting on the windowsill, staring into the blackness outside the window. His arms were wrapped around his updrawn knees, and his head rested on them. He could hear Sabina in the kitchen, and laughter sounded upstairs, Asher and Eric were probably playing a game. He heard Alicia’s voice calling to them, followed by racing steps and more laughter. Joseph didn’t move from where he sat.
Asher and Eric had loved Aaron, and they cried when he was gone, but now they seemed to have set their grief aside. Death had become a normal part of their young lives, and it seemed they didn’t draw close to anyone but one another. Joseph felt tears burn his eyes. They would never understand.
Joseph felt someone watching him and looked over to see Sabina standing by the kitchen table, a rag in her hand. She was looking at him with an expression of mingled pain and worry. Joseph looked away. After a few minutes he heard Joseph’s voice in the kitchen. Sabina said something, and their talk grew quieter. Joseph thought they might be speaking about him, but he didn’t really care. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
A little while later, as he sat lost in thought, Joseph felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Noah standing next to him. For a time neither spoke. Joseph pushed off the wall and leaned his head against Noah, drawing comfort from the fact that he was standing there. Somehow, it made him feel safer. Noah’s fingers rubbed against Joseph’s shoulder, and Joseph let out a long breath. He felt Noah’s eyes on him, and he slowly looked up.
“Joseph, are you ready for bed?”
Joseph shook his head.
“You look tired,” Noah pressed.
“If I go to bed, I’ll…” Joseph swallowed down a sob. “I’ll see it again.”
Noah sat down on the windowsill and turned to face Joseph. He laid a hand on the boy’s knee. “Can we talk about it?”
Joseph shook his head.
“Joseph, you can’t bury this inside of you,” Noah told him gently. “You need to us, and you must talk to God. If you try to bury it, then it will only grow.”
Joseph shook his head again and stood up.
“Where are you going?” Noah asked.
“Bed,” Joseph whispered. He turned and hurried up the stairs without looking back. When he got to his room, he crawled into bed with his clothes still on and pulled the blankets over his head. In the dark his breathing quickened, but he forced it to slow back down. “Aaron’s still here,” he whispered frantically. “He’s not dead, it was just a bad dream. It was just a bad dream.” Joseph closed his eyes tightly and clenched his blanket in his fists. “It was just a bad dream.”
A few hours later, Joseph woke drenched in sweat, tossing and turning. He was fighting, fighting, fighting, but the memory always won. Tears streaked his face and sobs shook Joseph’s body. He closed his eyes tightly and screamed. He couldn’t make it stop. It would never stop. There was no waking up, no getting free, no escape.
He was living the nightmare.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
I feel kinda bad for traumatizing this child.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
A week passed.
This feels a little odd right at the start of the book. I can see why you’re doing this, you’re trying to show us how over time he is adjusting, so I wouldn’t say it is a bad thing. It just feels unusual.
Joseph looked away. After a few minutes he heard Joseph’s voice in the kitchen. Sabina said something, and their talk grew quieter.
I think you meant to say someone else’s voice.
“Joseph, you can’t bury this inside of you,” Noah told him gently. “You need to us, and you must talk to God. If you try to bury it, then it will only grow.”
The wall.
Poor Joseph. I would be a little curious to know what it was like for him when he lost his own father. Does he ever see his face in the nightmares as well?
- You must be logged in to reply to this topic.