Ameliorate (Rough draft, needs severe criticism!)

[Otulissa]

Okay, I read it! I will not go technical with grammar/spelling, and I will just give you revision advice instead of editing advice. Well...XD There's not much advice to be given. I like your descriptions, and I can picture the scene with the boars perfectly. I like boars. xd The paragraphs are pretty well divided up, so good job with that!  

[SpunkyOtaku]

lol, thanks! And I have a teensy bit of a change here...
I think I'll be splitting the story into a trilogy. So now, no flashbacks at least. my only problem is when I should write the past, or the present...  

[Irishroseh]

How is that going to work?
Like... a story of what happened, a story of what's happening, and then a story about what's gonna happen?

I'm so confused.  

[SpunkyOtaku]

Pretty much, yeah. Well, think for a moment, how does a trilogy work? Three stages of a story (usually consecutively.) These chapters you have read so far would be the second stage. I'll start with that. No well, technically I'll start with the 'Third' in memorial to her death, then I'll actually get started on the second one. After I reach a certain stage, Then I'll work on the first. Believe me, it will all make sense.
when I said no flashbacks, I mean that's what I was going to do in future chapters (I actually had one for chapter three.) But now I'll just put it in the first... leaves more room.

Well, Today I'm putting up the first prologue for the Third stage, then I guess I'll give you guys chapter three of the second stage to look at.  

[Otulissa]

ARgh... XD I am oh-so-confused! Trilogies don't really work that way, do they? When I read trilogies, they are all in past-tense. xD It's just that the second book comes after the first, and then the third book concludes the whole storyline. XD;;  

[SpunkyOtaku]

Lol, I know! I'm doing something completely unprecedented! Don't worry, as you read it all, it will make sense. It'll be like... Star Wars! xd

Well chapter three... as I post chapter one of Her POV. Today. Happy Silence Day.

She clenched her pointed jaw and twisted her body in pain. The fresh tears clung to the rim of her eyes, and the agonized screams ripped from her throat in short bursts. Her skinny half naked body hunched and curled further into a ball, trying to fight the female hands that tried to keep the body open enough for the cold water poured over her second degree burns. The blisters and charred red skin throbbed then relaxed from the jarring therapy. The outer layer of dead skin peeled away with the poured water. Her round ears were deaf to the attempted whispers of soothing nothings. The white marks of stabbing and slashing that remained forever ingrained on her belly curled with her over the muscle holding in the air just waiting to power the shouts and curses eagerly waiting in her throat.

“He’s here!” said a young woman.

She was the one who had jumped up at any give away sound of someone’s return.

Anything to be away from me, the victim thought savagely.

She was a pretty older woman, with full silver wheaten hair in a curtain of neat waves behind her ears. Her pink bottom lip disappeared under her top lip in a nervous, worried gesture, but her wide brown eyes over the small pointed nose shone with fear. The standard sleeveless cream top fit loosely over her torso. The sharp edged dip in the neckline stopped before showing any indecency from her rested under her eyes and chin.

“Finally!” the older woman cried with exasperation.

She had perpetually stooped shoulders, and rather wrinkled sun colored skin. Her short bouncy silver hair was darker thanks to the blanket of ash, and black smudges. Her cream top was sleeveless, but a loose peach cardigan with no buttons wrapped over her floppy arms and shoulders. The deep mauve belt was soft with years of use, but still managed to hold up the black knee-long waist cloth.

The young woman hurried back with a glass bottle. The simmering red liquid glowed from within the stout round container. She uncorked it as she knelt next to the girl, letting out the fumes of the potion. Strawberry snatched it away and gulped it down the second the rim touched her lips. Without stopping she used both hands to hold up the bottle and tilted her head back to get all of the solution. It was hot, and foul, but she could feel the damaged skin quickly peeling and healing from the fast acting medicine. The old woman picked up a blanket, then both women sat quietly and watched with mixed relief, longing and resentment the red empty from the bottle with each gulp. The blisters and red faded to new skin as the magic coursed through her body. The tiny spots of burns disappeared completely, but on the patches that covered a wider range, the new skin was scarred tissue. Wobbly patches of white splattered down her dark oblique, hip, and thigh in a trail, and wrapped over the right side of her neck and shoulder from her back to her collar bone. The potions could heal wounds, but not do away with scars.

When she got the last drop and pulled it away to breath again, she gasped for air to try to refill her deprived lungs. That bottle took nearly fifteen seconds to down. It sucked being small sometimes. The older woman swept the thin gray blanket over her shoulders. The small hands eagerly pulled the edges to cover her white patched back and heavy breasts. The heavy clunking of mud-caked boots grabbed the attention of the female occupants of the room. Strawberry was slower to look. It was not until the tall man tossed an old, large yellow tunic in front of the girl that she turned to glance his way. Her sharp eyes traveled up his thick boots covering his shins, the black kickers puffed out around his knees, the brick-red waist cloth, the golden tan belt held by the black cord, and the cream sleeveless top- up to the face of the man that had refused to save her from the flames.

His lower jaw seemed as though it jut out minutely, though it was hard to tell under the brown goatee. His thick eye brows barely lowered from their neutral rest. His dark green eyes looked down on her huddled form with a mixture of annoyance and contempt. His thin lips were tight and set, and his large fists clenched, the two give ways to his anger. The small girl on the floor was not intimidated. Her own yellow-green irises matched his gaze evenly. Her mouth did not move, for she felt no anger or sadness. She agreed whole-heartedly with his silent lament.

A small sniffle broke the tension the two had created. The pretty woman closed her eyes against the tears forming. Her pretty pale hands covered her nose and mouth as she took a shuddering breath. Mitulo’s gaze softened and he took one step to her and wrapped his arms around his spouse. Hera buried her flushing face in her husband’s shoulder as his big hand cradled her head. Sobs racked her body while his trembling lips were the only give away of any emotion.

Strawberry reached a hand out from under the gray blanket to grab the yellow tunic. The old woman still kneeling on the floor watched silently as Strawberry stood abruptly, holding tightly onto the blanket around her shoulders. She turned from the scene of the parents mourning their child and trudged across the wood floors. Her steps hardly made a sound against the wood floor. The old woman watching could not help but feel a sense of déjà vu. She tried to funnel through her ages of memory and knowledge to understand what her old mind was trying to recall… ah yes, now she remembered. It was twelve years ago, the day Strider had been born. The woman could cite the day fairly well, even if her memory was starting to fail her thanks to old age.

Looking back, Heida felt the same way then that she did now. The girl had been four at the time. Four years old, and already she had felt shame at her own tears, not like other children who used their crying to get whatever they desired from parents. But what tapped her heart most was the blatant neglect her stand-in parents had shown. Even with excitement from their own child, no one should ignore the needs of another offspring, even if not their own. Even her own tears had gone unnoticed. Though when she thought on it… the girl had made no sound. Not one shuddering breath had passed her lips, and even walking with a limp, her feet made no thuds against the ground. It was almost though she had never been there in the first place.

-

Her footsteps were light, nonexistent. The stairs barely creaked. The drag of the long gray blanket was the loudest thing indicating her presence. Her head was down, focused on each approaching rise in the wood. Her head rose above the floor planks of the second story, and finally looked up. She stared intently at the single door directly in front of her. Simple wood, simple frame, simple iron, simple knob, latch and hinges. She reached her small, dark hand to the round iron knob. She grasped and turned it easily. It clicked and released. She pushed with her bare fingertips. The door swung open with a creak.

It opened immediately to a room filled with filtered and smoky light. The two windows were directly across from the doorway and always open- of course the smoke would have gotten in. It stung her sensitive nose, but she moved in anyway. She looked to the single-man bed against the far right wall. The covers were half off, with the pillow fluffed and wrinkled. The floor was clear, but the dresser opposite the windows was weighted with many thick colorful volumes of books haphazardly stacked, and the bed had clothes stuffed under for quick, lazy cleaning.

Hmph, fool forgot to clean his room.

Her neutral expression did not change. She stepped in and pushed the door closed, and moved across the floor to shut the shutters of the window. She turned away and glided to the lower table and stool with a long round looking glass. Several tiny bottles of different solutions were arranged against the shiny glass. She sat onto the low round three-legged stool, and dropped the blanket from around her shoulders. Her arms automatically crossed in front of her chest, even with the security measures taken to not be seen. She looked down over her long nose

The whitened pink of the new scarred tissue over her shoulder looked to her like a warped flower. It opened like petals in a splattered circle down from over her shoulder, stopping just short of her breast. She followed the smaller sets of spotted scars trailing down her right arm, and her side, noting the skin was tight, shiny, and wrinkled and dimpled. It also made her skin look darker. No doubt it would sicken anyone with a weak stomach. Strawberry liked them already.

As she had turned her body to look down the scars, she noticed a lock of hair shorter than the rest. Her hand went up to bring her orange hair in front of her shoulder. It was dry, and the ends were singed and more scraggly than before. There was a chunk just shy of the middle that was missing and exposed the back of her neck when it was draped normally. She started wondering about cutting it to even it out-

She vanished.  

[Irishroseh]

Oh snap!

hahaha, I'm still slightly confused, but whatevv. I'll figure it out.  

[SpunkyOtaku]

Yep! Though that's not a very thorough criticism young lady. *wags finger*  

[Irishroseh]

Hahaha, I'm just confused with what's going on, but I'm pretty sure it will get clearer when you post the next chapter.  

[SpunkyOtaku]

Now now hold on, don't just assume, tell me exactly what confuses you, and I'll tell you either if it's in the next chapter or not.  

[Irishroseh]

Who the guy is, why he didn't save her [Is he her father?]
What Heida was rembmering, and
whose room was she at the end?  

[SpunkyOtaku]

All very good questions, and It's good you asked. The middle one I can understand the confusion. Actually I had a flashback there, but I took it out because I want to use it in my first installment of the series, the 'trilogy' I told you about it. I'll find a better way to make that flow. What she's remembering is what happened on the day Strider was born.

Now, as to who the man and woman is, the clues and answers are in the chapter, try reading again, in between the lines.

And the room is Strider's, I just didn't address that, except for Strawberry's comment on it.  

[Irishroseh]

Oh, okay.

hahaha, I've never been very good at reading between the lines.  

[SpunkyOtaku]

*sigh* I am having a bit of difficulty. I would not call it 'writer's block' persay, because I'm still writing. Just not the intended chapters four, five, and six. I'm a little stuck on those. I've actually been working on the prequel of Ameliorate. I'm getting a better foundation. Which I'm debating on how to write, because there are several things I think need explaining... but I can't do it in here. Did that make sense at all? xD

Basically, Irishroseh's questions would all be answered in the prequel. But they're not really addressed in here, as they should be...  

[Irishroseh]

Will you post the prequal?
please?
:]]

&& that made sense.