"The Archon"

[Mazrim_Taim]

Let's see, this story is extremely rough ended, and I'm not even sure I'll be able to get some of the ideas across, but heck, I might as well try and get some input with this. Ok, this is a sci-fi about a messiah profesied by two races that are very different, and are in an embittered struggle for dominance over the land. One of them, called the Solaris, are kind of religious zealots with a strict rule-based society, and the other race/species is a race bent on discovering knowledge, known as the Endearins. I could use some help with names and other ideas if you have them. Ok, here's something from Fenix, the Solaris main character. And again, this is extremely flexible, and this is no more than a freewrite to get some f my ideas down, so tell me what you think.

Fenix stepped out of the daily Communion, and for once, felt ill at ease with himself. Usually, the ceremony was uplifting and peaceful, but Fenix had the feeling that this peace was not going to last. Peace. What a fickle dream, he thought. Just the other day he had reviewed with the Deacon Board his plans for action, and instead of agreeing with him, they took it another step. Oh well, I have done what I could to protect my land. Just because the fools want to counterattack this growing threat with sheer force doesn't mean it won't work. There will be so many more lives lost, though. The Elders had already agreed to martial an army, and the Deacons handed over their power of the city's management to the Head Cleric, and the General Rey Forchept. Nothing for me to worry about. All I do is serve.
Dammit! Why do I always have to save them from the shadows, always? Why must they be so merciless to our enemies? It will only be harder to destroy them then. Why am I even supporting this anymore?
He shivered from a cold breeze, and pressed on, bent on relieving this worry with something he could focus on. Fenix entered the training grounds of the city's unit, nodding to Lamarches as he passed by. This was his domain; this is where all the worries didn't matter. This was where he became alive. He shouldered up his switchblade from his guilded locker, and went to an empty circle to lose himself in practice. Strange, there should be more people here than this...Oh well, more room for me. He stretched his long limbs out before stepping into the ring of sand, and began to swing his blade around. Fenix slowly cut down the line, and then up the line, and started increasing speed. His sword was moving so fast it was a blur flashing gray around his lithe body. Then, he started to add the art of switching. Cut down with the line, spin around, and switch , then cut up the line, go in to stab, then switch actually cuts down the line with a quick flick of the wrist. He completely lost himself with his sword, he almost didn't notice the lights in the room dimming. Shadows flickerd around the edges of his vision, and he became aware of others in the room. He slowed and stopped, wondering who had the nerve or the need to interrupt him. He looked around.
A score of the Elite encircled his practice circle, with shield harnesses strapped on, making their silent forms shimmer in a bluish light that wasn't there. Fenix gulped. The captain of this party was the general Forchept himself. Fenix quickly dropped his sword and saluted, his knee bent and his hand held palm out in front of his face.
"Is my presense required for something, General?", he asked. The tall from of Forchept spoke in a deep, gravely voice.
"We have you now, Fenix Hazall. You are under treason for unspeakable crimes against the whole of Solarir. You would do best if you came with me, for there may be a way out if you speak before the council of these acusations." The guards closed in, their swords drawn, and Fenix had no choice but to obey. One of the guards rapped him in his skull with the flat of a sword, and he lost consciousness. No! They have discovered her at last. They will not be forgiving if they knew about her. I wish...I wish she had never entered my life...I can't see her anymore...She is lost to me...No! I can't feel...my home...anymore. They have moved on, and left me in the pits to rot! They have finally become what I least desired them to be: military zealots. Have to...warn the council...have to...fix things...
Later, he collected his arguments for the combined council. He had awoken later in a cold cell, and told of his rights in the matter. And also of his apparent crimes. Treason. Adultery. Plots against the entire Solaris people. Allowing the invaders to gain a new foothold without telling anyone. Those were some of the crimes. Fenix was alone, now, alone to his thougts, and seemingly separated from his people. They didn't care about him anymore. They were moving on to a bloody war they could not win, and they had just removed the one person who could have made the difference for peace. Fenix laughed bitterly. Yes, they'll get what they want. And with me dead, the Endearin scum will run right over them, and all will be lost for my people. No, not my people. People of War, now. People of death
He sat long in thought in his cell, and was overtaken by the darkest dreams he had ever had.

Ok, so that's what I could come up with for now, let me know what you guys think!

[Mazrim_Taim]

Ok, no one is replying here...I shall try again! Here's an essay for my narrative assignment in English class. granted, it's really rough, and probably has some errors in it, but take what you can. I'd also really appreciate it if some more people responded! Thanks!

~ A dust storm blows over the badlands. The suns scorch the earth, being merciful only to the tough plants that make this desolate region their home. A shallow canyon enfolds a river bank, flowing with clouds of sand rather than water. Scattered brush still clings on to what was once a moist and vibrant region, but are slowly being choked by the slow decay of the land. The Withered Lands, they were now called, a region almost of devoid of life, save for the few scavengers that still lived off of the unfortunates that couldn’t adapt fast enough to the climate change. The storm passes, and the suns continue to bake the already dried land to furnace temperatures. Deathly silence echoes around the rocks, and there is no sign of any creature on the surface.
And yet, a strange sound starts to rise among the crevices of the canyon. Upwards this sound rises, and is now clearly some kind of music. The pitch of the melody rises and falls slowly, while interlaying harmonies create tension and discord. Down a crevice of the canyon, into a dimly lit cave, and the music is now discernable as a song. A deep bass voice sings a wordless melody, while three other overtones create sort of a chord on top of those notes. The melody turns into a sorrowful moan, laced with clashes of fury. The singer is now visible: huddled close to a fire burning low in the cave. The rag enshrouded figure rises from his crouched position. The song falters, and fades away into silence.
The tall, dark creature rises on its feet, perhaps to stretch. He stands almost nine feet tall, and seems even taller from his arms dangling well below his knees. If they were knees; they bent backwards like a wading bird. His whole body is covered by a thick, grayish brown cloak, and tattered, dark green divided skirts poke out beneath his long, patchy cloak. His boots were also worn and dusty, as if he had never polished them in 20 years. All of his clothing is earth toned, so that if he wished to, he could completely disappear into the surrounding rock. The tall form slowly pulls back the hood of his cloak to expose his face. His skin is a scale covered gray, and there seems to be no mouth from which any song came from; the creature simply does not have a mouth with which to speak. But there were two pairs of narrow slits that lined his chin in diagonal slants. They had a slimy sheen that would suggest some sort of mucous lining, but they are difficult to see in this dim light. But the most alien of his features came from his two eyes, which gleams a brilliant orange color. Was this light some reflection of the flames? Or was it light that came from within his eyes? Narrowing slightly, his eyes turn a bloodshot red, as the sound of footsteps reaches his ears. There is a glint of real fear in them, as well as a thousand pits containing his desperate fury.
A deep grating snarl comes out of his vocal slits, the ground trembling with the force of the bass, and the fire went out, as if some wind has come in and snuffed it out. But there is no wind, only the creature. He looks around, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness of the cave. And now it is clear that the light shines from his eyes alone, for they glow a deep crimson in the darkness. Then, his hands relax, and his body loosens up. His eyes are now a deep violet. He lets out a sigh, and sinks back down to the floor. No one is there. My ears are hearing something, surely, he thinks. But what was that noise? Could it just be imagined?
He gracefully hops off the ledge where his fire was onto the ground of the entrance twenty feet below, landing with barely even stirring his cloak. He prowls to the entrance and steps outside to alleviate his curiosity. He looks around, not seeing any movement in the twilight. Awkward silence. Strange…This is usually the most active time for the denizens of this place…He hears the footsteps again. Scuff. Thud. Scuff-Scuff-Scuff Treeeead. They stop. He then feels eyes staring right at him, and slowly turns around, fearing the worst. A black shadow towers over him, and with a gasp he throws himself to the side as the grisly shape lunges at him.
The creature skids for several yards before it realizes that its prey is not in its grasp. He stumbles up and doubles over in pain, feeling a scratch where the creature had sliced him with its claws in its passing. He then ignores the pain, focusing on the predator in front of him. I’ll be damned if I get bested by a priolix! He mutters. He picks up a stone from the dirt and chucks it at the creature with all his strength to get its attention. It wheels around, snarling with long, dagger-like fangs and a spiked, finned back that wobbled as it lumbered forward on all fours. The reptilian behemoth charges again straight for the humanoid, and again finds itself looking ahead at nothing. Then, to its surprise, a pair of red eyes dangles down from the horns on its head, and the last thing it sees is those hate-filled eyes and a flash of blue. Lights out for the priolix. The creature leaps down from the head of the shuddering beast and wipes the blood off of his short sword. Then, just as quickly as he had killed the creature, he sheathed the dagger back into his cloak. Well, at least he had one weapon left. He then walks over to the priolix, takes out a hose apparatus, and sticks it into the side of the great lizard. Then he feeds, sucking some of the juices of the creature through his broad snout-like nose.
After filling himself, he sits back under the now moon-lit sky, and ponders on the past, and his once noble life. How could he be reduced to this? Just another scavenger in the Withered Plains, trying to live out an existence of isolation. He takes his blade out again, and turns it over in his hands, pondering about his old life, and the things that haunted his dreams.
Strange, I thought I had come here to end my life in misery. Well, truth be told, it IS miserable, but I never felt like killing myself and losing my place in the stars. I can’t do that; I’m dishonored enough as it is. Yes, this knife. The only protection against natural enemies in this Thrice cursed region, and yet the very mark of my shame. I can’t seem to rid myself of this thing. I wish I could just forget everything. I wish I could just curl up and die. But no, I’m worse than dead now. I’m a Despised One. Doomed to wander in search of redemption. Doomed to be cut off from the Fellowship of Communion forever. Banished. And all for being different. For having other ideas; for making things new, adapting, making my people’s lives better.
I did not deserve their punishment; death by his hand would have been more merciful, but he knew how to crush me. He knew how to completely strip me of any pride. I lost to him in the honor duel. I was kneeling on the ground, waiting for him to finish me off, and he just stopped. “You do not deserve death by your deeds, and you have been a service to the homeland for many years. Your treachery to destroy our ways is all the more dire. If I killed you, I would make a martyr of you, and your sin would corrupt our pure race. No, I cannot kill you. And yet you cannot stay. Therefore I name you Despised One, and you will be put to justice without trial if you dare show your face here again.” Yes, those were his words, the self-righteous prick. Banished from the mountains; and no purpose but to live. To be alone forever, cut off from the world I loved so much. Would have been better to be defeated by the Endearin scum!
Yet, why did I not let myself be killed? Why did I end the other creature’s life, whose only purpose is to kill and eat, and then eat some of it? This meat eating idea is still new for me, but that is the only way to survive out here. So, for some reason, I will survive. I sense that now. But for what purpose? Why have I been led away from my people to wander around aimlessly? Or is this a new life for me? Yes, that must be it! Klathfrae has abandoned me, so I must make a way for myself now. And why do I still weep for my loss? I need not do that. That life is dead, forever lost to me. I will make a new life. A carefree life, without the constraints that were a stumbling block to me. A life of adventure, perhaps, or even a life of charity. Anything but this loneliness I feel right now! I am Fenix Alnear no more! I am now Vagalle the great Rogue!Vagalle slowly rose from the carcass, and held the sword before his eyes. That symbol of his shame. With a chuckle, he sticks it back into the corpse, and leaves it there. He also leaves the nutrient syringe in the creature’s leathery hide. Brushing his cloak off, Vagalle strode off, following the river valley out of the canyon and into the Withered Plains. Soon a distant shadow in the moonlight, the Wanderer strode off to start his new life, walking out of the Plains and into the uncharted lands beyond, to his. The sound of his strange voice lifts once more into the sky, laughing at the heavens.
An hour after Vagalle left, booted footsteps echo softly around the canyon. A cloaked form in a cloak as black as the night itself detaches from a wall of rock, and strode over confidently to the dead priolix. More footsteps. It silently observes the carcass. The moon blackens, as if a cloud has passed over head. The moon shines on the ground again, and the cloaked form has vanished! The long dagger is also missing.~
What do you think?

[Mazrim_Taim]

Grrness! Nobosy's F***ing posting! I'd REALLY appreciate it if I got some input from a reply so I can make my ideas and writing process a lot better! And yes! I'll take anything from scathing criticism to stupid questions! I just want some sort of response from you people! ~dies from desperation~
Ok, sorry about the vent. But yeah, if anyone has ideas or suggestions, criticisms, etc. Please reply in the thread, please, if you're reading this!

[Webster]

I have only read the first one right now but i'll tell you what i thought of it.
I like how you are developing fenix but overall your writing needs more detail and more description. Instead of glazing over the meeting earlier it would have been nice to get a flashback of the arguments and the hopelessness fenix felt at the time and how he tried to change the events that were unfolding that he had no control over.
I'
d like to know more about the training center, maybe a flashback of his first time holding a sword or a flashback of his previous lessons with a teacher character (who could be developed into a supporting character) I'd like too see how the switchblade was different from other swords. is it a beam saber of a metallic blade, are there any special functions that it has over other blades. Descriptions of facial features and traits would help too.
Overall it is good right now you just need to practice and just writing stories and editing them is the biggest part of it.
Try to fluff up your stories so that the major events don't happen so close together using that fluff and extra stuff to allow the reader to get into the charater's soul.

[Webster]

the second one is much better, I could have used that description of his species at the beginning but it was very good for setting a mental image, i especially liked how you left the most stunning of his features for last and then later incorporated them in his surroundings.
I would like to know how he went from where he was in the first story to becoming what he is now?
At this point I would recommend a major event happening to Fenix or if you were to introduce another character. Perhaps one of Fenix's admirers, maybe someone in the military. He could go on a mission, find some secret and need to come in contact with fenix in order to set things straight, the general could have concealed fenix's fate and so the new character would have to search for fenix's location and maybe end up being out cast himself.

These are all options, you can take whatever route you want it is interesting you are building up a nice mysterious feel to the story but some times it gets confused with confusion because some of the smaller details aren't described very well and can be destracting to the reader's attention.
Good Work so far.