Writer In Motion Forum

Big round of applause for my critique partners Erika and Yara, thank you both for the great feedback on Ethereal Child. It's difficult weaving together such an intricately designed narrative in only 1K words, especially since there is so much mystery and unknowns intentionally woven into the main characters POV. My desired response from CP round is that there wasn't too much vague exposition and info dumping at the same time that clogged the flow of the story. I'm confident now that the story has achieved a good balance in the narrative based on feedback. I wonder how far I will go with Ethereal Child, so far its been quite the enriching experience.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yZGIGwuy6cebm8YNQDkwbFoQzHjAoy5cp-hIiGue_UA/edit?usp=sharing

Here is my self-edited draft of Ethereal Child, a total of 500 words edited out since the first draft so its down to 999 now. ( Not including title and beginning paragraph )




[/i]
   
    There was something timeless about this place.

    An elysian stroke of twilight upon a canvas, abandoned by an ancient civilization that had become muddled, its violent directions streaking like beautiful disorder across a world living in constant dichotomy of time and existence. Change and consistency. A coexistence. It bled into the sky, clashing like a waterfall of sacred hues above, not flowing up nor down ? but existed somewhere in between.
    It engaged the harmony of polarity, you could taste a constant friction in the air. A celestial presence whispered from the stones. You could almost hear the voices of the ancestors burdened in each stump, hidden from the dark and bitter green overgrowth against the chaotic blue sky.

    I was born underneath that blue tantrum in the sky. The sky of Sinnilah.

    It was the sky of my home. The home of the Schaimarhad.
Much like us, Sinnilah was a place alive from the inside, breathing and existing on the brink of time and the unknown. The Land of Unknown.
    At least that?s what the Elders told me, the same time they claimed that I would be the next Schaimarhad. Me, a child who cried from bee stings, would be the next to fill a seat in the ancient Schaimarhad council beyond my home. It meant that I was a direct descendant of the Nebula Gliders, the first humans to walk the Earth, who claimed Sinnilah as their homes before the migration to Jashafyt. The women who paved the future.

    I was the next in line.

    According to my mentor Koqimoe, there was still much I needed to learn. From what I saw of them on the temple walls Schaimarhad were always covered in red robes, decorated in seashells, not even their faces showed. Something about sacred skin.
Majestic red birds. My brother called them.

    ?Once you receive your name,? Koqimoe said as she led me through the trees. ?Your training for the journey to Jashafyt must begin, if you succeed, you will earn your rightful place on the council.?
    Koqimoe had the skin of brittle oak, dark and leathery, and her limbs were lanky enough to be compared to the tree branches. She was also tall, thin from what the eyes would show you, yet strong in many ways. Most women in the village had long and stretched earlobes but I always thought Koqimoe had the longest.
    ?Will it be hard?? I asked while observing my mentor's hand around my tiny wrist, her palms black.
    ?Yes it will,? her head turned slightly and the light caught the rim of scarification around her eye. ?Sinnilah is never the same, winters change to a humid summer in seconds and a plainfield becomes a barren landscape in a blink of an eye. You will need to learn how to navigate Sinnilah?s ever changing nature.?
   
    I knew Sinnilah was unknown to even its inhabitants, including the creatures who were forced to adapt to the atmospheric change. A fragile existence. Time shifted, up became down, and the sky flowed beyond. Despite my nerves, I was still excited to finally receive my name.
    Koqimoe stopped, causing me to almost stumble into her rump from behind.   

    ?We are being followed.? she said, eyes scrutinizing the trees.
     I looked up and saw a pair of familiar eyes of a young boy staring down at us.
My brother.
    ?You know you shouldn?t be out here boy,? I felt Koqimoe?s hand tighten over my wrist protectively. ?Go home now.?
    ?I want to watch the naming ceremony.? my brother protested.
    ?I won?t tell you again.?
    I tugged Koqimoe hand. ?Why can?t he just watch Moe? He?s not hurting anyone.?
    Her eyes shot me a warning. ?You know why.?

    And the Elders would never let me forget. They feared that me and my brother would become close. Even the chance of it.
    We had been separated since birth, but he had always been around, no matter how many times the Elders chased him off. The reality was that he was the male sibling of a Schaimarhad, and was not expected to live to adulthood because of it. The less bonded, the less painful his death would be.
    I didn?t understand why he had to die, and the Elders wouldn?t explain beyond its inevitability.
    My brother narrowed his eyes as Koqimoe pulled me away towards the large clearing ahead, and there I finally saw the statue.
   
    It was a statue of the previous Schaimarhad, a woman with her head turned up to the sky. It seemed illuminated, untouched by earth, like it had been carved hours ago rather than centuries before I was born. Chiseled into her chest was the scenery of a hilltop with the faint outlines of mountains and something like a cot at the top. The birthplace of the last Schaimarhad.

    ?Embrace the stone,? Koqimoe said to me. ?Accept everything it gives you.?
    I breathed out then stepped towards the enormous statue. I didn?t hesitate, I knew I couldn?t, I spread my arms and wrapped them around the stone.

    I heard the buzzing vibrations in my ear first.
    And then the voices.
    ?...child with blood so red...a Schaimarhad child...yes she is.....Akorrinah Asalih?.Akorrinah.?
Akorrinah Asalih. I had a name.
    I felt excited ? until the tone of the voices became uncertain. The words spoken wiped the smile from my face.
    ?She....she is the traitor of the red.....traitor...they will come for her...they will come for their traitor?.?
     
    I backed away gasping.
    ?What says the stone, child?? Koqimoe asked.
     I swallowed. ?T-they gave me a name, it?s...Akorrinah Asalih..?
    ?Akorrinah,? Koqimoe smiled. ?A title bequeathed to one destined for greatness.?
    I forced a smile, ignoring the confusion that flooded my thoughts as I took my mentor?s hand.
    I knew I should?ve told Koqimoe that the stone had granted me more than a name.
    That it had given me a title.
    The title of a traitor.
   
    Of the traitor I was to become.

Oh goodness, this is so gorgeous I want to cry. I absolutely love the voice and mood you've woven into this, and the twist at the end is just perfect.

I definitely want to read all the things in this world. 

Its an honor to inspire such emotions into readers! Thank you, once I complete my series you will be hearing a lot more of Sinnilah.

Below is the google doc link to the first draft of my short story Ethereal Child for the Writer in Motion prompt. I really enjoyed writing this while also drawing inspiration from the prompt image, its a bit more than 1K words but I really got into a flow while writing. ( Pantsed )

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1T6qSzDPp0YYFhVj3KVDDQ59FNmVYTeMFhexfnsEqrPA/edit?usp=sharing