First words

There's something always incredibly scary with sharing a new piece of work, no matter how many times I've done it before. These are the first 500 words or so of my new first chapter, straight after the prologue. I hesitated posting this, because I was worried I would be told the descriptions are too lengthy (my rationale being that it is a rather strange world I need to set the scene to). But then again, I should post the words as they are if I am to be honest. If you want to throw me a morcel of sympathy, see my other post on why I find first chapters so difficult to write. 

~*~

This, thought Stus, was History being made.

Near to a thousand sylphs had gathered inside the Ebony Hall – before then, the highest number of people Stus had ever seen there was twenty. The Hall, dug inside an old tree on the outskirts of town, was at breaking point. From his vantage point near the entrance to the hall, a good five wingspans above the ground, Stus could survey the whole assembly of Tree Circle members. Along the bookshelves, row after row of dusty books swarmed with excited faces and fluttering wings of all colours. The garish mix of wing patterns and the constant buzz from the voices had breathed life and chaos into the once stern library. Luminoths clung onto the ceiling, their claws dug deeply into the wood; they cast a dim light onto the Hall, and shadows danced over the crowd. It was dizzying just to look around the colossal room. With the raised platform in the centre of the hall, crowned with the pulpit, the Hall had an atmosphere of a performance waiting to begin. A grim and tense performance. The same words were on everyone’s lips. Marec is dead. The Oak Heart is dead.

As well as latecomers, rumours flew around, too. Some were half-truths, some buried desires now free to emerge and flourish. Marec had been found in a pool of blood. Marec had been a secret drunk and had too much hydromel. Marec had so completely lost his mind that he had flung himself from his tree and forgotten to fly. No theory made the slightest bit of sense to any who had known Marec but Stus was too busy to stop and point this out. As a Rosewood and Faerie Guardia in his public life, he had been given the task of making sure the gathering went smoothly while the Wind Chimes, the leaders of the Wind of Change, made their announcement. The excitement had built up as the number of sylphs had grown, and in Faerie this only meant trouble. His experience patrolling the city had taught Stus that heat, emotions and long waits were rarely good companions. Only his vigilance and the strength of the fifteen minors under his commandment would offer any protection should a spark ignite the crowd. Under the stream of gossip surrounding the nature of the gathering, many Tree Circle members were mourning the loss of their leader, and both men and women could be seen dabbing at the corners of their eyes with handkerchiefs to avoid their tears leaking over the intricate patterns painted on their cheeks – though some did so with such a great deal of noise and fuss that even for sylphs it lacked sincerity.

Stus was not one of them. As grieved as he was by Marec’s death, he knew there were greater things to come. Nate had only hinted at them, but the loss of an Oak Heart meant one thing for sure: there would need to be a new one. Stus’s wings twitched whenever he thought of it. It would not be long until the announcement now.