I have been working on a story for a while now, still kind of early in the process, but I figured I'd post a taste of what it's like, as I'm looking for opinions on my writing. These are the three main characters, of which the story will switch between. Enjoy!
A key. A single key. No one knew that such a small object could be so important. That it could destroy entire kingdoms. Entire civilizations. No one could have predicted the events I have experienced. It felt like a dream. Everything happening so fast. But here I am, floating somewhere in the Æther on the airship Dawn. Because of this single key, my home was destroyed. I find myself, in the brief moments of respite I get, staring at it. The madness began not too long after my grandfather Ezekiel died. In his last moments of life, he gave it to me. It became the only memento I had of him, so I kept it around my neck, on a string. He was, in the prime of his life, a world renowned treasure hunter. He retired after failing to find the legendary tomb of Cotiru, the ancient king of the time before man. The time when a race of demigods ruled, using magic and the stars to guide their society. They, according to legend, were elevated to godhood, and humanity took over. Science and machinery guide us, though a few cultists try to follow the old ones arcane ways. Cotiru's tomb is said to be many things, a library full of old one knowledge, an armory, a repository of treasure, no one knows for sure. Some say it’s floating in space, waiting for a nation with the technological prowess to get to it. What I didn’t know, the key is the only way to find it. When the royalty and treasure hunters got wind of that, everything escalated. The fire, the screaming. The screaming that has haunted my nightmares every time I close my eyes. My father’s friend captain Brian and his daughter Sara, who I've known since we were little, helped me escape. My father. They killed him while I could do nothing but watch. I won’t cry. Dad said men never cry. The key has many details I hadn’t noticed before. It feels warm, and is covered with glowing blue runes.
"Leo!!! Where are you?" yelled Sara. The cute brunette girl walked into the small room. "It’s called sleep, ever tried it?" She joked. "I can’t." Leo muttered. "Well, I don’t blame you. You’re wanted in the captain’s quarters, follow me." Leo got up, putting the key back on its string. From all the hours working on the airship, Sara is very fit. If their parents had never met in the Imperial Air Navy, they would never have talked to each other, let alone be friends. "Hey, Leo!!!" Shouted the captain. "Hey, Uncle Brian!!!" He replied with a fake enthusiasm. "We need to figure out how to get the treasure hunters and soldiers off of our asses." Brian continued. "There’s only one way I can think of that will let us do that. We need to find that tomb." Leo looked at the key, its glowing runes. "Let’s do it." "Fantastic!!! We will start in the morning, get some rest, you'll need it."
Leo got up the next day, feeling slightly better. He had always loved Grandpa Ezekiel’s tales of adventure and excitement, so he was ready and eager to start hunting. Leo walked into the cabin, and was greeted by the captain. "Sleep well?" Leo replied "Yes, actually. I’m ready to start hunting." "You're finally coming back; you haven't been the same since then." He continued with a pat on the back. "I don’t want you to think that I am insensitive, I loved you're father like a brother… we should get started. Sara!!!"
For King and Country?
The sound of a hundred turbines filled the air as the royal navy continued its search. A soldier stood on the deck of one of the larger wooden airships, talking to his friend. “Isn’t this a bit much?” one of them exclaimed. “I mean, we are just looking for a little airship.” The other one replied “this teenage kid has one of the most valuable objects in the world, even this is just a small portion of the navy. The point is, we’re expendable.” Out of the lower deck came a loud voice “Jack, Bernie! Get to work!” “Slave driving bastard sergeant.” Jack muttered under his breath. “One day I’ll captain one of these things.” Bernie chimed in “I just want to get home safely; you want to command the entire damn fleet! I guess you never really found a girl, huh? You’ve got nothing to lose.” The two Soldiers got to work mopping the deck, a measure used to maintain their discipline while on long sea trips. An Explosion rocking the ship interrupted their tedium. “The rebels!” Bernie yelled. Sergeant Williams, a large man with a rock solid structure and unmatched ability to always be angry, came up. “Get to your battle stations! We’ll crush these little traitor sympathizers before lunch!” Jack manned a turret and began firing at one of the poorly constructed machines, barely worthy of being called a ship. A few shots were all it took to bring it down, but air machines aren’t exactly sturdy to begin with. Suddenly, from one of the ships, a couple of cannons fired. Each one struck the side, barely missing Jack, but forcing him to jump out of the turret. He looked out at the damage, and saw that Bernie’s post had been decimated. “Damn it.” Out of rage, Jack jumped back on and shot at the last rebel ship, obliterating it in a fiery explosion.
Jack stood at the funeral, saluting the loss of the best friend he had ever known. He wished it had been him, Jack had no family to inform, no-one to mourn him. The skies were dark, it started to rain. “I guess the sky will do my crying for me.” Jack thought as he turned to leave. He walked to his pathetic excuse for a home, a darkness hovering over him. He was a war hero, he got home safely. “I can’t just give up, Bernie wouldn’t let a little thing like this stop me.” Jack turned in the opposite direction, towards the recruitment offices. “Captain, here I come.”
Like the Wind Itself
The Falcon did a somersault over the crate, losing the inattentive guard as he did so. He had just stolen a diamond, easy, compared to his usual heists. His employer payed well, so he did the job. He took out two more guards in one swift movement, knocking them out. At this point, the fear all guards have of him are powered by myths, rumors. Nothing scares recruits more than the iconic beaked mask and cloak. He uses this to his advantage, creating devices to make his usual heists seem supernatural. He did a dive out of a window, grappling to the top of the building and rappelling down the structure. No sooner did the falcon touch the ground than he was off, running fast enough to be nothing more than a blur to any witnesses, if there were any. He enjoyed this life, putting on a mask and becoming someone else, someone without consequences, without friends. He stopped. Alexander Smith took of his mask. “No friends.” He muttered. Though he did enjoy being the Falcon, his profession required that he never become attached to anybody, he’d never felt anything like companionship more than to be temporarily loyal to his current employer. He heard a rustling nearby, and instinctively put his mask back on. He was the Falcon once more. He lifted his arm and grappled to the top of the building next to him. He flew up, only to be met by the local constable and his men, eight of them total. “Hello, Mr. Falcon. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to come with us.” The overweight man spat with a pretentious smile. “I’m afraid,” the falcon reached slowly into his pouch. “That’s not an option!” in one swift movement, a cloud of smoke exploded from the ground in front of the thief, soon engulfing all who where on the rooftop. The sounds of chaos and confusion were everywhere, and when the smoke cleared, the only man still standing was the constable, all of his men had been knocked out, and the Falcon was gone.