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Scifi and Fantasy Forum: Writer's Showcase: SF/F Short Stories:
The Enthrallers: Book 1: The Tabal
The Enthrallers: Book 1: The Tabal
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Posted By: Reddawg Jun 07, 2003 - 03:15 pm |      | Ok, I started writing this a year ago. I have about 12k words so far. Here are the first 2,000. If there is enough feedback/interest I will post more. I'm looking for all thoughts, whatever they are, about this! Thanks in advance! ----------------- Ch. 1 - Commencement Enroha was suddenly awash in light. Its source seemed to be from high above, in the vaulted ceiling of the chamber. But it was not sunlight; it was not any natural light. No skylight or window was visible within the Enclave. The light simply emanated off the smooth marble surface of the ceiling itself. These surroundings were known to Enroha, and many of the rooms within the Tabal's compound were lit by such means. The shedding of light is one of the most basic skills taught in the Tabal, regardless of one's study focus. What Enroha had not seen before was the way in which the light seemed to select what it illuminated. Rather than flooding the entire central chamber that was known as the Enclave, the light seemed to give its attention to three figures: Enroha's cloaked form, the large pillar in the center of the room, and the Council's table. All else was steeped in utter darkness. With measured steps, Enroha proceeded towards the soaring pillar. The rite of commencement was very precise; tradition required certain actions. Enroha ran through his mind once more the procedure: approach the grand pillar; bow ceremoniously to the pillar; bow a second time, towards the Council; recite the Oath; and finally, speak the invocation of intent. Each step had its significance, as dictated by Elder Rathi, founder of the Tabal, about a century ago. The pillar of the Enclave was no regular pillar: forged through the combined efforts of the world's master craftsmen, the lofty column represented all that the Tabal stood for. The motto, "Skill, Knowledge, Wisdom" was emblazoned in runes of gold. The column itself was made of a motley of materials: various woods, precious stones, and metals. Intended to convey the variety of the people and purposes of those who compromised the Tabal, the effect of the column's variegated appearance was astonishing. For Enroha, it held a surpassing beauty. Having once reached the pillar, Enroha executed a deep, sweeping bow that ended with no flourish. This bow pays respect to the community of the Tabal and the nine years spent there in schooling. With a fluid motion of his left hand, Enroha called up his lore in order to prepare for the next stage of the ritual. The pillar was situated in the center of the Enclave; the Council was seated on the far side of the chamber and thus was hidden from view. Elder Rathi may have found it humorous to see his pupils' anxiety of not being able to see past the pillar. The column, having a diameter of thirty feet, was no small obstruction. Tales speak of past students' infamous behaviors during this part of the rite. There were legends that said it was first Gamelleon the Great who took an unusual approach to the pillar. He was said to have made the column vanish into thin air; Higatha the Hardy purportedly lifted the column out of her way. Whatever the case, it had become an annual challenge for those graduating to see if they could engineer a way to get around the column by unique means. But such tremendous feats as Gamelleon's and Higatha's, if veritable, were rare. In truth, most of those who managed to attain commencement chose to simply walk around the column. Yet for Enroha, no mere average pupil, the task was trivial. With a second motion of his left hand, Enroha's form became as intangible as a wisp of smoke. In the next instant, he had passed his body through the pillar and emerged on the opposite side, coalescing back into solid form. Now past the column, the second bow was now to be executed, this time with a high flourish. Nearly there, thought Enroha. With a tone of voice that belied his inner eagerness, Enroha recited the Oath he had rehearsed countless times in the past days: "I, Enroha son-Haron, conclude my time as student and disciple, in the order of the Seekers of the Flame after Elder Rathi. I recognize that skill may never be truly honed; knowledge, never wholly gained; and wisdom, never fully acquired. I abjure the way of Malice, and avow the way of Truth. Never will I renounce the precepts of the Tabal; always will I persist in my goals." The Oath of the Tabal was, to some, the crux of the commencement; it was certainly the summary of every student's purpose in life. No other commitments may supersede the oath, save those of religion. Once the oath is taken, your life is inextricably tied to the words. No amount of cool-headedness or nonchalantness could hide Enroha's excitement at this, the next and last stage: the invocation of intent. Before anyone graduated from the Tabal, they were required to submit this invocation. If the Oath was not the pinnacle of the past nine years of Enroha's life, the intent was. It determined what his life's work and goals were to be. With anticipation, Enroha listened to the Council speak. "Enroha son-Haron, student from the Truskin, child of Trakkan, the Council hears you." Truskin was Enroha's nation, Trakkan his hometown, neither of which had he seen in the last nine years since being brought to the Tabal. "Now hear the Council. Our judgment is resolute and our word is all. Enroha son-Haron, your time of training has passed. You are now faced with the ultimate choice: which direction will you take in your life? Be sure of it, and choose." The voice was that of Elder Ffusa, Councillor of the Tabal and head of Enroha's lore-school, the Seekers of Flame. Enroha studied for three years under the dour woman, and was proud to receive his commencement under her supervision. "Ageless Council of the Tabal, my way is chosen for me, and I demur." This, too, was ritual; all students said this, whether or not their way was open to question. Enroha was, however, self-assured. "My way is through the Enthrallers." No one was surprised by Enroha's intent, he had not kept it a secret. Nonetheless, with an edge of gravity, Ffusa replied, "Enroha son-Haron, the way of the Enthrallers is not to be undertaken lightly. If chosen, the obligation is absolute. You sacrifice much in this choice." "The sacrifice is mine to make, and I sacrifice willingly," sprung the formal reply from his lips. Under his thin red cloak, standard of the Seekers of the Flame, Enroha trembled with anxiety. The emotional impact of the event was tremendous. Nine years of study had come to an end. Idealistic and enthusiastic, Enroha's eagerness to begin the rest of his life was unbounded. Pride swelled within his young frame; at only 20 years old, Enroha was to be the youngest Enthraller ever. "Thus may it be. Enroha son-Haron joins the way of the Enthrallers!" with a surprising boom from her voice, Ffusa finished the invocation. "Enroha son-Haron, be now known as Firethrall Enroha," concluded Ffusa from her seat at the Council table, third on the right side. It was only then that the selective lighting of the Enclave changed to a normal glow and revealed for the first time the entire Enclave. Enroha had only previously been in the chamber once each year, for the annual Ceremony of Light. Now however, Enroha was facing for the first time the entire Council of the Tabal, all nine Councillors, "the Ageless" themselves. The table formed a large half circle, encompassing the pillar. Nine chairs were spaced at even intervals around the table. Each seat was occupied by an Elder according to their rank in the Council, the High Elder seated in the middle. The High Elder was no longer Rathi; he had died shortly before Enroha entered the Tabal. He was rumored to have been three hundred years old at the time of his death. Whether or not there was merit to this rumor, Enroha did not know and yet somehow did not doubt it. The High Elder's position had passed to Elder Vassul, a forbidding and gaunt man of immense stature. Enroha had never studied under Vassul; the High Elder did not have time to teach even a single class, as most of the other Elders did. The other Elders were automatically placed in the headship of their appropriate schools. Facing towards the pillar and on Vassul's left was Elder Garomini, a robust and hearty man, directly descended from Higatha the Hardy. Like his robe, Garomini's seat was a deep verdant green, emblem of the school of nature-lore. Garomini was ranked second in the reckoning of the Elders. Elder Rathi himself determined the means by which Elders and their positions were determined. Anyone could challenge an elder for their position, as long as they both were former pupils of the same school. But, in the still young history of the Tabal, no elder had been challenged; all had relinquished their claims, either by death or by retirement. The ranking of the elders was a grossly complex and, to Enroha, overly-intricate system of details. Age, tenure as a Councillor, acts of valor, and prosperity of the school all affected the rankings. For the most part they seemed stable, save for three years ago, when Garomini's position rose. He and a group of his oldest pupils defended the school from a surprisingly concerted attack by pillaging forest imps who were trying to raid the food stores; nothing, it seemed, could come between Garomini and his food stores. He was rewarded for his valor by ascending to Vassul's left hand. On Vassul's right was Kazkabal, shrouded in a heavy black cloak. Kazkabal had in common with Enroha his heritage in Truskin, although they came from vastly different cities; Kazkabal was from Truskin City, the largest in the land. While Elder Kazkabal tended to remain quiet, his merit was undoubtable. As headmaster of the school of dark arts, his power was equally undoubtable. Thus was he secured his ranking of third of the nine. In this fashion continued the seating of the Elders: Elder Ffusa in red, to the left of Garomini, ranked fourth and headmistress of the Seekers of the Flame. Elder Looquin, in a white dress and hair wreathed in lilies, sat to the right of Kazkabal and ranked fifth. A more elegant Councillor there had never been, and the school of healing arts was lucky to have her. To her right was Master Dormin, in a sooty and stained yellow tunic. Enroha thought he had a look on his face as though he was bothered to be interrupted from alchemical toyings in his laboratory. He ranked seventh and headed the School of Alchemy. To Ffusa's left sat Elder Jehen, noble lady of the Jikab and sixth-ranked Councillor. Enroha avoided eye contact with her; ever since the mishap in her rune-lore class, he'd been to embarrassed to look at her. Up until that day Enroha had intended to immerse himself in the arcane runes; Jehen was doubtful of his abilities, and it turned out rightly so. A slip of his hand garbled the marks of a sealing-rune into a caustic-rune, and it cost Elder Jehen her favorite gray robe before she was able to put out the acid fire. To Jehen's left rested old Elder Ubert, oracle of the Tabal. Ubert had been oracle of the Tabal since it's founding day, and yet he remained only eighth ranked, at the end of the table. But his position was incontrovertible; the Tabal school revolved around his ability. Upon Elder Ubert rested the soul responsibility of selecting the student body. The nature of the Tabal was such that each student had to be selected and brought to it; it was the only school of it's kind, as envisioned by Elder Rathi. Ubert spent most of his days divining the future students of the school. It was then the task of others to collect the pupils; they came from all over the land. If it wasn't for Elder Ubert and those who chose the way of aiding in the school's selection, few students would ever enroll in the Tabal. Ubert looked asleep to Enroha's eyes; he was dozing and slumped over against Jehen's shoulder.
Posted By: Bmat Jun 07, 2003 - 03:39 pm |      | I lost attention after he passed through the column. For an introduction to a story, the detail that follows the passing through may be a bit heavy, my opinion only. The writing is well-done. The atmosphere and the setting are interesting. I would read more.
Posted By: Jaxantha Jun 08, 2003 - 02:05 am |      | I agree with Bmat that there is a little too much detail for too long. I think the detail in the first couple of paragraphs was really good because it provided background whilst also giving the reader some 'action' to focus on at the same time. But that aside I found your style easy to read and it flows pretty nicely too.
Posted By: Reddawg Jun 08, 2003 - 06:00 pm |      | I think what I'll do is break up the descriptions of all the Council so that it's not one big glut of information. Anyone care for the rest of the chapter?
Posted By: Bmat Jun 08, 2003 - 06:56 pm |      | Yes!
Posted By: Reddawg Jun 08, 2003 - 07:50 pm |      | Diametrically opposed to Elder Ubert was Master Munkar, ranked ninth and last among the Councillors. Everything about Munkar was brown: his tunic, his tan skin, his hair, his eyes, the grime under his fingernails. Munkar was head of the least-reputed school, the school of crafts. Despite the less than sparkling reputation, Master Munkar, another Truskin, held his head high. The crafts, along with alchemy, were not as the other schools. Their knowledge and purpose came solely from mankind. The crafts focused on the making of machinery; the revolutionary applications of science to industry. Small wonder that Munkar was a Truskin; already much of Truskin was blotted with pollution from it's sprawling industry. No other nation or tribe in the land made use of machinery the way the Truskins did: steam engines in their factories, in their mines, in their caravans. It was suspected by some, but doubted by most, that in the ancient past all the Earth relied upon the crafts. All but the Truskins shunned them now; the side effects were detestable. Still the same, uses for the skills were needed, and Master Munkar was respected by the other Councillors. There was a real skill in his craft. Enroha took in the sight of the Councillor's table all in a few seconds, and was stunned by the importance of such a gathering. A traditional commencement ceremony draws only one Councillor, the student's headmaster, and their favorite teachers. It was on the tip of Enroha's tongue to ask why such a showing was being made; Ffusa read the inquisitiveness in his face. "Be at ease, Enroha. The commencement of any student is a momentous event; yours is unusually consequential. Hold, Firethrall," chided Ffusa as Enroha moved to speak, "I shall explain. It was known to us that you would choose the way of the Enthrallers. It was made known to us... in a peculiar vision of Elder Ubert's." With an inflection in her voice, Elder Ubert sprung to life at once, hefted himself off of Jehen's shoulder and gathered his voice to speak. "Yes, yes, Ffusa brings us to the point, young Enroha. The sight came upon me nigh two cycles ago, under a new moon. I saw that - that is, I was shown, I mean to say, I," Ubert lost his train of thought as he stammered to decide how to say what he must say. "The sight revealed to me that you would chose the way of the Enthraller, and that you were destined to be more than a mere Firethrall." The title of Firethrall was not easily slighted, but within the Enthrallers, the active force of the Tabal, it was equivalent to the grunts. Still the same, of the five hundred or so Enthrallers within the Tabal, each who welded considerable power, only a handful achieve higher status. As Ubert continued, he lapsed into a reverie, his voice fell into a drafty whisper, his tone full of echoes as if he spoke from the depths of an abyss. And to Enroha's discomfort, his eyes began to glaze over and turn white. "You, Enroha son-Haron, have been known to the Council these nine years. The Ageless watch their pupils closely. Indeed, you have been watched most closely. You must be made aware of your potential, your burden, and forewarned. It is within you to ascend above and beyond, Enroha. Elder Rathi formed the Tabal to guide those who would manifest power, those who would be great. Guide you we shall. The Enthrallers will provide you with the outlet that you must have, and you will be great. But with all of this will come sobering responsibility. Your ultimate fate is undecided; naught is writ in stone. Be warned, Enroha son-Haron! Avoid despair at all costs. Your way is long and arduous, and your end far distant. Even Ubert, seer of the Ageless, cannot see your final destiny." With that, Ubert sunk into stillness, and slumped again upon Jehen's shoulder. "Brother Ubert is given to theatrics," Jehen stated simply, speaking for the first time. "However, it is in my heart that his prescience in this matter is even more inspired than usual. You and I, Firethrall, have had our difficulties in the past. They are forgotten. If ever you seek an ally, consider Jehen of the Jikab ready to aid you." Enroha was both surprised and relieved by Jehen's explicit offer. But he could not help the sinking feeling that he was falling in over his head. The duty of all Enthrallers was to uphold peace throughout the land; for that, they were sometimes resented by the people of the land. But their valor was unquestionable, if at times their methods were less than pristine. In choosing this way, Enroha was prepared to weather the tribulations of such a life. Elder Ubert's speech, however, was eerily disconcerting. After all, Enroha was only twenty years old, a neophyte compared to the Council. Talk of power and destiny was nearly more than Enroha was ready to consider at this time. "Enroha son-Haron, your life is just now beginning in earnest. May the Creator shed his blessing on you," came a benevolent and genuine wish from Elder Looquin. Her dedication to the Council was perhaps superseded by her belief in the Creator, the supreme deity of the Holy Church. Like many of the people of Lionor, she was a devout Morlin, the self-styled followers of the Creator. "Unless there remains a Councillor who has yet to chime in, I will call this commencement to an end," High Elder Vassul said with a tinge of irony in his voice. After a short pause, "Very well. Firethrall Enroha son-Haron, henceforth you are free of the bindings of the Tabal's school. You are now bound in the Tabal's Enthrallers. Go and seek Master Haron, he will tell you what next to do." Suddenly the lighting in the room shifted again; Enroha caught a glimpse this time of who was controlling the light. In an orifice at the back of the Enclave, behind the Councillors table, was a servant; in truth, an Enthraller. Enroha doubted that he was needed for security, as the Ageless were more than capable of defending themselves against any threat imaginable; in fact Enroha suspected the combined might of the nine would overthrow any force in existence. Thus the Enthraller's sole job, at this time, seemed to be to control the lights; it was done with a series of switches and levers. Surely the work of Master Munkar. The light reverted to it's former oddness, save this time no beam made lambent the C-shaped table of the Council. Just as he came in, Enroha turned around, walked through the pillar, and exited the Enclave. Once he was outside, he could scarcely restrain himself from running to his father, Haron, for his next set of instructions.
Posted By: Cylene Jun 10, 2003 - 05:42 pm |      | Wow, that was a lot of names. I liked it though, so keep it up! The descriptions were good, if a bit long. I enjoyed hearing about the councilors; describe the Enthrallers soon! You should go slower, though, you threw in all these names of different groups etc., they all came way to fast. Go steadily but slower and it'll come out better and more interesting.
Posted By: Reddawg Jun 10, 2003 - 10:57 pm |      | Thank you all for your comments. I think you're all right. I was so enthusiastic about writing a book and excited in creating it that I got caught up in the details. I think it will be possible to include just as much detail by spreading it out more. I'm going to post Chapter 2 tomorrow in a separate topic for those who are interested. The next two chapters definitely pick up the pace.
I'd have to say that I am more sensitive to the weight of too much description and exposition than most, especially in fantasy. Memorizing names, places, histories and allegiances is too much like work. I'd have to say that it's the main reason I don't read a lot of it. Everyone has already commented on that already, so I don't want to pile on. I'll just make this one point about it... Tolkien. He did more world creation than almost anybody else. From time to time, his place descriptions, language notes and historical asides were laid on pretty thickly. But his characters were compellingly real, and their situations pressingly dire, so it was difficult to lose interest. This stuff reads more like Chapter 8 than Chapter 1. I could perhaps tolerate this as a flashback once I had come to know and root for the main character. But we're a long way into this story and you haven't yet given me enough reason to care. Just remember, the Lord of the Rings started with a birthday party. The anticipation of that was enough to draw the reader in from Page 1. Rob Balder ----------------------------------- There is no sig line which is still funny after 50 posts.
Posted By: Reddawg Jun 11, 2003 - 02:52 pm |      | I hope that as you all read a bit more of the book you'll come to see that much of the detail is intended to flesh out the environment and make it more realistic. Not because you need to remember "names, places, histories, and allegiances". You'll see that most of these names are unimportant, they're just there for those who like it. Anyway, I'm going to post the next part in a new thread now.
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