Sunday, August 30, 2009

Prologue First Lines

Gathering of Rain:

In a time now passed beyond memory, a man whispered over a golden disc as he set it into a vice.

House of Valla:

A frog croaked in the silence of night.

Rock of Ancients:

Dantian was ten years old when he finally understood what his name meant.

Winter's Fire:

The last Valleur on Valaris, of this universe, prepared the fire for the scrying ceremony in the centre of the Vannis’ gem-studded Throne-room.

Glittering Darkness:

‘So why are there no wolves on Valaris, father?’ Tymall asked, grey eyes wide with curiosity.

Path of Shades:

Saska gazed over the dry plateau spread akin to challenge before her.

Walker of Realms:

Fourteen long and wearying weeks passed.

Sword of the Sleeper:

A mother and her little daughter walked along the banks of a placid river giggling together, halting every so often when a bright flower or insect trapped their roving attentions.

Animated Spirit:

The smell of turpentine and paint filled the small space.

Elixir's Mirror:

On the rooftop humans and a Siric danced.



This exercise has been illuminating. I have a greater sense now of what works and what does not. No, I'm not telling you - you tell me!

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