Shuyang+Story+Opening

Here's my story opening! Currently under construction

--Shuyang Li (:D) VERSION 1.0 (3/07/2008) PROLOGUE

A web of cracks emerged on the mask… Slowly, as if in a dream, the delicate fractures reached out to the edges of the mask. A small shard of stone bent outwards, falling through the air. It was swept away by the gentle winds, twisting and turning in its flight. The edges of the mask crumbled, fragments breaking away and floating past. Slowly, the mask shuddered and broke away from her face. It seemed then as if time slowed down, and we could clearly see every small crack and fissure on the mask. It spun twice during its short journey and fell to the ground. Bouncing upwards, the mask shuddered and disintegrated into a cloud of dust. The light breeze swept the dust away, a river of sparkling bronze and dark stone. Silence reigned for what seemed an eternity as our eyes flickered upwards, to what the mask had hidden. She was stunning, even surrounded by that ever-present flow of mist. Long golden hair framed her delicate face, wisps blowing in the wind. Her elfin ears swept back to subtle points. It was as if she was asleep, eyes closed and relaxed. The gentle chin rested on her chest, mouth just drawn apart into a slight crescent. Every few moments, her chest would rise and fall in breathing, and her head would slightly tip upwards. Delicate, supple fingers were clasped on her heart, rising slightly in the rhythm of breathing. She was enrobed in a shimmering silk gown that fluttered around her long, lithe legs, occasionally revealing tantalizingly pale skin. We all stood silently, drunk in her beauty, blissfully unaware of the commotion outside. At that moment, all that existed in the universe was concentrated in that little room. I felt my heart beating quickly, heat spreading through my blood and warming my cold body. Here I was, standing before my destiny. To become the Herald.

VERSION 1.5 (3/10/2008)
 * DRAFT DRAFT DRAFT DRAFT DRAFT DRAFT**

PROLOGUE A web of cracks emerged on the mask… Slowly, as if in a dream, the delicate fractures reached out to the edges of the mask. A small shard of stone bent outwards, falling through the air. It was swept away by the gentle winds, twisting and turning in its flight. The edges of the mask crumbled, fragments breaking away and floating past. Slowly, the mask shuddered and broke away from her face. It seemed then as if time slowed down, and we could clearly see every small crack and fissure on the mask. It spun twice during its short journey and fell to the ground. Bouncing upwards, the mask shuddered and disintegrated into a cloud of dust. The light breeze swept the dust away, a river of sparkling bronze and dark stone. Silence reigned for what seemed an eternity as our eyes flickered upwards, to what the mask had hidden. She was stunning, even surrounded by that ever-present flow of mist. Long golden hair framed her delicate face, wisps blowing in the wind. Her elfin ears swept back to subtle points. It was as if she was asleep, eyes closed and relaxed. The gentle chin rested on her chest, mouth just drawn apart into a slight crescent. Every few moments, her chest would rise and fall in breathing, and her head would slightly tip upwards. Delicate, supple fingers were clasped on her heart, rising slightly in the rhythm of breathing. She was enrobed in a shimmering silk gown that fluttered around her long, lithe legs, occasionally revealing glimpses of tantalizingly pale skin. We all stood silently, drunk in her beauty, blissfully unaware of the commotion outside. At that moment, all that existed in the universe was concentrated in that little room. I felt my heart beating quickly, hot blood spreading through my veins and warming my cold body. Here I was, standing before the woman I loved, ready to take on my destiny. To become the Herald. CHAPTER I I stood before the smoldering ruins of Illiath, wreathed in rage and pain. Before my beloved city, I made an oath, swearing to return one day and hunt down the responsible one, to turn his own element of fire upon him. And thus, standing on a charred knoll, looking down at my home, the hunter became the hunted. The lone figure stood against the fiery wrath of the creature, denying him passage into the light. He roared into the face of the blazing fiend, “Step no further, foul beast! Ye shall return to the darkness from whence you came!” And with a menacing sweep of the arm, he smote the staff upon the hide of the fiend, shattering its fiery armor into a thousand shards of darkness. The shining blade cleft the creature’s brow, biting and tearing. With one last flare of mystical power, the mage blasted the dark beast back into the dark pit from whence it came… As victory seemed eminent, and triumph rose in my heart, there flashed a shadowy tendril of darkness, and I was dragged down into the heart of the shade. Falling through the depths of the unending cavern, I clutched blindly at the sole shimmer of light, the only reminder of the blissful world above. The darkness grasped me with many hands of shadow, pushing down with all the power of death and destruction. All at once, I felt release. The shadow drew back with a hiss, letting me drop into a mound of snow. The biting cold refreshed me, and my eyes once again saw a vista I never hoped to see again. Fires blazed through the land, and blackened, twisted branches marked the last remnants of once-mighty oaks and conifers. The smell of burning flesh pressed into my nostrils, the sickening scent overwhelming what little defenses I had left. Incapacitated, I fell to my knees, gagging, for I had no more left in my stomach to throw up. The beast burst from a ruined hut lower on the mountain. Scaling the mountaintop, it roared and swung its whip in a mighty arc at the mage. I raised my blanched face, cursed, and spat upon the scorched ground. All around me, the spirits of the void were rising up, freed from their imprisonment by the proximity of a creature born of death. I recognized a few, those who had aided me in previous incarnations, and my old friends. All of them had the same piece of advice for me: run for it and save your own skin. And yet while I decided that was the safest thing to do, I felt otherwise. Scenes rose in my mind of a certain city, razed by demons and sowed with salt. Of the ones who had died so valiantly defending their homeland, when there was no hope left of survival. I thought of my parents, and the blissful expressions on their dead faces. I thought of my cowardly roots, and how I was the only one to escape Illiath, and the only one who did not fight. No, I would not run from my calling, nor hide from destiny till it came up to me and ripped me out of the ground. I would fight. Fight, and die. Having convinced myself, I frenziedly muttered an arcane enchantment. With a blinding blast of light, my sword and staff burst asunder, and I felt the power of a thousand suns enter my body, blood broiling to froth. I thrust my glowing hands directly into the chest of the beast; felt the mighty of the burning sun rage and blaze into the dark creature. It didn’t stand a chance. The foul beast died instantly, before its body had even begun to fall. And with the last breath of the monster perished the evil that had plagued the land since the age of the gods. I lurched and fell backwards, all energy consumed in the final blow. A welcome light filled the corners of my vision, and all the world seemed to tremble and shatter. Three cloaked figures materialized out of the light. One floated forward. I sensed another presence in his mind, one of peace and reassurance. //Hero of time, sleep now, and regain your strength. For once more, you shall be called upon to rid the land of evil and wage eternal war with the dark one.// Warmth spread throughout my cold essence, and I drifted through seas of shimmering white into an iridescent crystal, dewdrops clinging to my hair. Darkness consumed me, and I fell into a deep sleep only destiny could awake. And in another corner of that black void called death, another spirit stood, tall and graceful, born from the shadow. He smiled viciously. The one who had smitten him down would be reborn, and he would be called on once again to slay him. It had been like this for millennia, and it would stay like this for millennia. One name remained in his memory, one branded by fire and tempered by ice. Zeruel. CHAPTER II Please recheck your internet connection. If this section does not load within five minutes, clear your cache and try again.

VERSION 2.0 --**DRAFTDRAFTDRAFTDRAFT** (Includes second chapter) PROLOGUE A web of cracks emerged on the mask… Slowly, as if in a dream, the delicate fractures reached out to the edges of the mask. A small shard of stone bent outwards, falling through the air. It was swept away by the gentle winds, twisting and turning in its flight. The edges of the mask crumbled, fragments breaking away and floating past. Slowly, the mask shuddered and broke away from her face. It seemed then as if time slowed down, and we could clearly see every small crack and fissure on the mask. It spun twice during its short journey and fell to the ground. Bouncing upwards, the mask shuddered and disintegrated into a cloud of dust. The light breeze swept the dust away, a river of sparkling bronze and dark stone. Silence reigned for what seemed an eternity as our eyes flickered upwards, to what the mask had hidden. She was stunning, even surrounded by that ever-present flow of mist. Long golden hair framed her delicate face, wisps blowing in the wind. Her elfin ears swept back to subtle points. It was as if she was asleep, eyes closed and relaxed. The gentle chin rested on her chest, mouth just drawn apart into a slight crescent. Every few moments, her chest would rise and fall in breathing, and her head would slightly tip upwards. Delicate, supple fingers were clasped on her heart, rising slightly in the rhythm of breathing. She was enrobed in a shimmering silk gown that fluttered around her long, lithe legs, occasionally revealing glimpses of tantalizingly pale skin. We all stood silently, drunk in her beauty, blissfully unaware of the commotion outside. At that moment, all that existed in the universe was concentrated in that little room. I felt my heart beating quickly, hot blood spreading through my veins and warming my cold body. Here I was, standing before the woman I loved, ready to take on my destiny. To become the Herald. CHAPTER I I stood before the smoldering ruins of Illiath, wreathed in rage and pain. Before my beloved city, I made an oath, swearing to return one day and hunt down the responsible one, to turn his own element of fire upon him. And thus, standing on a charred knoll, looking down at my home, the hunter became the hunted. The lone figure stood against the fiery wrath of the creature, denying him passage into the light. He roared into the face of the blazing fiend, “Step no further, foul beast! Ye shall return to the darkness from whence you came!” And with a menacing sweep of the arm, he smote the staff upon the hide of the fiend, shattering its fiery armor into a thousand shards of darkness. The shining blade cleft the creature’s brow, biting and tearing. With one last flare of mystical power, the mage blasted the dark beast back into the dark pit from whence it came… As victory seemed eminent, and triumph rose in my heart, there flashed a shadowy tendril of darkness, and I was dragged down into the heart of the shade. Falling through the depths of the unending cavern, I clutched blindly at the sole shimmer of light, the only reminder of the blissful world above. The darkness grasped me with many hands of shadow, pushing down with all the power of death and destruction. All at once, I felt release. The shadow drew back with a hiss, letting me drop into a mound of snow. The biting cold refreshed me, and my eyes once again saw a landscape I never hoped to see again. Fires blazed through the land, and blackened, twisted branches marked the last remnants of once-mighty oaks and conifers. The smell of burning flesh pressed into my nostrils, the sickening scent overwhelming what little defenses I had left. Incapacitated, I fell to my knees, gagging, for I had no more left in my stomach to throw up. The beast burst from a ruined hut lower on the mountain. Scaling the mountaintop, it roared and swung its whip in a mighty arc at me. I raised my blanched face, cursed, and spat upon the scorched ground. All around me, the spirits of the void were rising up, freed from their imprisonment by the proximity of a creature born of death. I recognized a few, those who had aided me in previous incarnations, and my old friends. All of them had the same gesture for me, the same sadness expressed on their faces. For they knew that while escape was the best choice, I was sure to fight on. It was just my way. Scenes rose in my mind of a certain city, razed by demons and sowed with salt. Of the ones who had died so valiantly defending their homeland, when there was no hope left of survival. I thought of my parents, and the blissful expressions on their dead faces. I thought of my cowardly roots, and how I was the only one to escape Illiath, and the only one who did not fight. No, I would not run from my calling, nor hide from destiny till it came up to me and ripped me out of the ground. I would fight. Fight, and die. Having convinced myself, I frenziedly muttered an arcane enchantment. With a blinding blast of light, my sword and staff burst asunder, and I felt the power of a thousand suns enter my body, blood broiling to froth. I thrust my glowing hands directly into the chest of the beast; felt the mighty of the burning sun rage and blaze into the dark creature. It didn’t stand a chance. The foul beast died instantly, before its body had even begun to fall. And with the last breath of the monster perished the evil that had plagued the land since the age of the gods. I lurched and fell backwards, all energy consumed in the final blow. A welcome light filled the corners of my vision, and all the world seemed to tremble and shatter. Three cloaked figures materialized out of the light. One floated forward. I sensed another presence in my mind, one of peace and reassurance. //Hero of time, sleep now, and regain your strength. For once more, you shall be called upon to rid the land of evil and wage eternal war with the dark one.// Warmth spread throughout my cold essence, and I drifted through seas of shimmering white into an iridescent crystal, dewdrops clinging to my hair. Darkness consumed me, and I fell into a deep sleep only destiny could awake. And in another corner of that black void called death, another spirit stood, tall and graceful, born from the shadow. Flames flashed among his robes, and he smiled viciously. The one who had smitten him down would be reborn, and would be called on once again to slay him. It had been like this for millennia, and it would stay like this for millennia. Yet one name remained in his memory, one branded by fire and tempered by ice. Zeruel. CHAPTER II  A hazy vista floated and danced before my eyes. I had awoken. I stood up and looked at my new form. I was glad to see that I still held the shape of the Elven prince I once was millennia ago. I was always reborn in a different style, forcing me to learn new combat tactics. In this form, I happened to be a mage, a singular circumstance. Never before had I been using the same combat tactics for two different eons. Yet this form was as akin to my older, fire magic form as a dragon is akin to a mighty bird from the high peaks. For now I had obtained mastery of both light and darkness, the ability to control that fearful power of twilight. I was garbed in a long, flowing robe of black silk trimmed in silver colored cloth. Two dragons’ skulls had been affixed to the shoulders, and balls of icy flame had been magically inserted into the eye hollows, giving them an eerie look. A circlet of silver and diamonds crowned my forehead, and I found my hair unchanged, as long as it was. Customarily, a silver-and-obsidian armor piece covered my lower face from the top of my nose to the bottom of my chin, obscuring my identity. As I looked downwards, I saw a stylized silver dragon head that had been applied to the chest portion of my robes. Slightly underneath my ivory belt, the robe had been split into two portions, revealing my true armor. Yes, the robes would channel magic far better than steel or leather, but one sturdy stroke could easily cleave my body in half, laying me low for the scavengers of the night. Under those robes, I wore a suit of armor. It fit me well, and I remembered my third incarnation, when I had first been forced to wear plate. It had astounded me with its weight, but now I was used to it. The armor was made of a substance slightly lighter than steel, but much stronger. I checked it for a while, and found it to be obsidian, the finest obsidian torn from the most dangerous mountains of fire one could find anywhere. What surprised me most was the material that held the “plates” in the plate armor together. I was expecting to find a thicker steel rim, but it turned out to be bone, thicker and sturdier but, again, lighter than steel. If I took off my robes, I presumed I would look like a skeletal knight, perhaps to be mistaken for one of those annoying Death Knights who seem to pop up like flies when one least expects it. My boots were comfortable and thoroughly bland. I then diligently set about to find where I was. I could take as much time as I wanted, for food was of no use to me. As for water, I could conjure some at a moment’s notice. Looking around at my surroundings, I slowly assembled a panorama of an undisturbed forest, a classic and unforgettable scene. All manners of birds and beasts flew around, scurried, crawled, and just about lived out a great day. Sunlight pierced the shade, and a light breeze blew through the many leaves. I decided to survey the forest, and nonchalantly started to walk northwards. After a few hours, a blood-red tint began to fill the sky, and I stared in wonder at a forest sunset. The red faded into a purple color, and the sky darkened with each passing moment. Less and less birds flew, and finally all was silent but for the low shaking of the branches in the bracing night wind. I laid back and looked up at those countless stars, winking and blinking in the summer night… A cold hard object pressed against the hollow of my back. I leapt up and spun around to see who it was. The night stared back at me, darkness pressing inwards. I put my hand backwards and drew my sword – the sword. Sheepishly, I scratched the back of my head and sighed in relief – so it was just my sword… CHAPTER III Please wait while this section loads... **Please give me feedback on this story! Most important feedback: Is Zeruel a plausible character? Does the plot draw you in? Anything you find interesting? USE YOUR IMAGINATION :) **

The story is very well written. The plot did draw me in and I did want to continue reading the story and see what occurs next. Zeruel is a plausible character although you need to describe what his reincarnation is now. I still see him as a sorcerer that destroyed the beast of fire. Is he still in this form? Also, is some of your plot from Lord of the Rings? It sounds very familiar. The allusion is very well written. I had a very good descriptive mental picture of what was happening. Keep the story coming. It's great!!!! ~ Tiana

Chapter 2: Hey Shuyang, I really enjoyed this chapter. The protagonist seems so much more realistic now that you've described him more. Also, I liked how you gave him common human qualities such as being nervous/foolsih/not perfect (sword hitting his back part of story). Your chocie of wording is very appropriate and fits well to the story. There is alot of detail. I really can't think of anything that you could improve on. You're a fantastic writer. ~Tiana