K
KatFromPlanetKirienne
Guest
It's for a contest at school. Is my writing and grammar any good at all? Constructive criticism, please. It's called "Shaft of Moonlight."
Once, long ago, there was a planet known for its life and beauty. It was a pristine jewel of the galaxy- that is, before one lowly species ruined it. Millions of years ago, that same lowly species called it Earth. Today, millennia later, we call it Moonlight.
Evolution has had its chance to evolve the inhabitants in this world of eternal twilight. We have discovered fossilized bones and remains which suggest the homo-sapiens once had a very different structure from ourselves, the homo-noctornalis. The main difference is that our ancestors were not winged, but I have heard we had evolved this way so we could occasionally get to the clean air up high. How did they ruin and trash their, now our, planet so? That is a story for another time. This story is about Shaft Constantine Ténébreux.
Marvh 24, 10061 Y.A.R. (years after return) / 123581321 AD
Picture a young man, his dark leathery wings the same colour as his oily black hair; his eyes the colour and opalescence of grey moonstone. Akin to the typical citizen of Moonlight, his fingers are clawed as a cat’s and his pale skin appears to hold a certain flaky fluorescence. On his chin are the scant, barely visible beginnings of a beard. Loved by none, lover of no one, Shaft of Moonlight is a Wanderer. The Wanderers are generally treated with the same hospitality as lawyers or taxmen, as you surely know.
Picture the ever-present-over-water smog, being penetrated by a sudden ray of blinding rose light, and the brimstone brine that blanketed the brackish floor of the lake being dissolved by this light.
“God almighty…” murmured Shaft, “What was that? Is whatever caused it in the water?” He moved forward to wade and noticed that the water itself was still the same quality as that of the rest in the area. He decided to, instead, fly over the water with his hook-and-pole.
It soon became apparent that this was not necessary. A being- he hesitated to say “human” because of the apparent lack of wings- broke the surface of the water sputtering and shouting for help while obviously taking great care to hold one object above the water. Acting on his instincts alone, Shaft glided over the surface and lifted the creature from the water, putting it- or he, thought Shaft, judging by his voice and facial features- on dry land. “Hullo there? Are you okay?” he asked. The man- Shaft gave a final determination- just stared, petrified with what looked like fear. “What are you? Can you speak my language? Where are your wings?”
The man gurgled something hurriedly, which Shaft could not understand. It sounded like the man was scared of something, by his tone.
“I am sorry, I am afraid I cannot understand. I only speak Gaelic,” he paused, and gestured to himself. “Shaft. Shaft Constantine Ténébreux.”
This seemed to put a spark of recognition on the man’s face, but the main emotion was still fear. Nevertheless, he made the same gesture. “Trent.”
Shaft pointed at the man. “Trent?” This was received by a cautious nod. “Ah. Now I can know about you. What are you? No- you are obviously just an unfortunate wingless- where are you from?” He made movements that seemed to go along with the question.
The answer was confusing. The man moved his hand in small circles pointed behind him.
“Back? What do you mean back? In time? Possible, I suppose.” He noticed two objects that the man clutched tightly in his right hand. One was a clear quartz crystal; the other was a notebook with some sort of writing utensil. Curious, he held his hand out. The man quickly surrendered the crystal. It appeared to be normal enough. The strange man held two of his fingers near his eye. “Ah,” noted Shaft, moving the crystal to look through it. “Like an eyeglass. Wha-” What he saw when he looked left him struck. He quickly put down the crystal, eyes widening in shock. He looked up. Yes, same grey sky, same grey, pebble-covered dirt. Smog. Comfortable, familiar smog. The strange man was smiling broadly at him. Shaft gingerly lifted it again. Yes- there it was again! “What is this, old wingless man? A trick?” he demanded. A blue sky! “I do not believe in magic, some trickery was laid upon this crystal.” Still, he looked through it a third time. “Strange, fuzzy…and green? What is that? Where is the smog? It is… clear. Is this the past? It is surely beautiful.”
Suddenly, it seemed like the voice of someone else spoke through the man without wings, “No. Your crystal-vision is not the past. That is the never-has-been. Shall you make Moonlight like this?”
The man fled. Fast as he was, he would be no match for a winged human. Shaft was about to take pursuit, but was distracted by the notebook falling. Gingerly, he f
Gingerly, he flipped through the delicate pages. Drawings. Drawings of the world in the crystal. Again, he looked through. It was all so bright! There was a white-yellow sphere that he had never before seen. Ha! They would have to rename Moonlight! So many strange things…
He flew to the nearest town, at top speed, his wings beating almost as furiously as his heart. They could have a world like the one displayed in the fantastic crystal! He, Shaft Constantine Ténébreux, could change Moonlight forever! This, however, is when Tragedy chose his own atrocious moment to intervene and stop the course of the play.
It only remains to be said that he flew into sulfur/monoxide updraft. The sudden lack of breathable air together with his exhilarated accelerated thoughts caused his heart to fail and betray him to fall…
It was quite a way down. He was killed with impact, and the crystal was broken.
This would be believed by most to be a most unsatisfactory en
She picked up the largest piece of crystal and the notebook. Sharmaynne, because of Shaft, was able to change Moonlight. With crystal in hand, the world of twilight became the world of sunlight. Our world was given new life.
Sorry, my "added details" are a bit out of order and a few sentences are missing, but you can e-mail me for a good version.
Once, long ago, there was a planet known for its life and beauty. It was a pristine jewel of the galaxy- that is, before one lowly species ruined it. Millions of years ago, that same lowly species called it Earth. Today, millennia later, we call it Moonlight.
Evolution has had its chance to evolve the inhabitants in this world of eternal twilight. We have discovered fossilized bones and remains which suggest the homo-sapiens once had a very different structure from ourselves, the homo-noctornalis. The main difference is that our ancestors were not winged, but I have heard we had evolved this way so we could occasionally get to the clean air up high. How did they ruin and trash their, now our, planet so? That is a story for another time. This story is about Shaft Constantine Ténébreux.
Marvh 24, 10061 Y.A.R. (years after return) / 123581321 AD
Picture a young man, his dark leathery wings the same colour as his oily black hair; his eyes the colour and opalescence of grey moonstone. Akin to the typical citizen of Moonlight, his fingers are clawed as a cat’s and his pale skin appears to hold a certain flaky fluorescence. On his chin are the scant, barely visible beginnings of a beard. Loved by none, lover of no one, Shaft of Moonlight is a Wanderer. The Wanderers are generally treated with the same hospitality as lawyers or taxmen, as you surely know.
Picture the ever-present-over-water smog, being penetrated by a sudden ray of blinding rose light, and the brimstone brine that blanketed the brackish floor of the lake being dissolved by this light.
“God almighty…” murmured Shaft, “What was that? Is whatever caused it in the water?” He moved forward to wade and noticed that the water itself was still the same quality as that of the rest in the area. He decided to, instead, fly over the water with his hook-and-pole.
It soon became apparent that this was not necessary. A being- he hesitated to say “human” because of the apparent lack of wings- broke the surface of the water sputtering and shouting for help while obviously taking great care to hold one object above the water. Acting on his instincts alone, Shaft glided over the surface and lifted the creature from the water, putting it- or he, thought Shaft, judging by his voice and facial features- on dry land. “Hullo there? Are you okay?” he asked. The man- Shaft gave a final determination- just stared, petrified with what looked like fear. “What are you? Can you speak my language? Where are your wings?”
The man gurgled something hurriedly, which Shaft could not understand. It sounded like the man was scared of something, by his tone.
“I am sorry, I am afraid I cannot understand. I only speak Gaelic,” he paused, and gestured to himself. “Shaft. Shaft Constantine Ténébreux.”
This seemed to put a spark of recognition on the man’s face, but the main emotion was still fear. Nevertheless, he made the same gesture. “Trent.”
Shaft pointed at the man. “Trent?” This was received by a cautious nod. “Ah. Now I can know about you. What are you? No- you are obviously just an unfortunate wingless- where are you from?” He made movements that seemed to go along with the question.
The answer was confusing. The man moved his hand in small circles pointed behind him.
“Back? What do you mean back? In time? Possible, I suppose.” He noticed two objects that the man clutched tightly in his right hand. One was a clear quartz crystal; the other was a notebook with some sort of writing utensil. Curious, he held his hand out. The man quickly surrendered the crystal. It appeared to be normal enough. The strange man held two of his fingers near his eye. “Ah,” noted Shaft, moving the crystal to look through it. “Like an eyeglass. Wha-” What he saw when he looked left him struck. He quickly put down the crystal, eyes widening in shock. He looked up. Yes, same grey sky, same grey, pebble-covered dirt. Smog. Comfortable, familiar smog. The strange man was smiling broadly at him. Shaft gingerly lifted it again. Yes- there it was again! “What is this, old wingless man? A trick?” he demanded. A blue sky! “I do not believe in magic, some trickery was laid upon this crystal.” Still, he looked through it a third time. “Strange, fuzzy…and green? What is that? Where is the smog? It is… clear. Is this the past? It is surely beautiful.”
Suddenly, it seemed like the voice of someone else spoke through the man without wings, “No. Your crystal-vision is not the past. That is the never-has-been. Shall you make Moonlight like this?”
The man fled. Fast as he was, he would be no match for a winged human. Shaft was about to take pursuit, but was distracted by the notebook falling. Gingerly, he f
Gingerly, he flipped through the delicate pages. Drawings. Drawings of the world in the crystal. Again, he looked through. It was all so bright! There was a white-yellow sphere that he had never before seen. Ha! They would have to rename Moonlight! So many strange things…
He flew to the nearest town, at top speed, his wings beating almost as furiously as his heart. They could have a world like the one displayed in the fantastic crystal! He, Shaft Constantine Ténébreux, could change Moonlight forever! This, however, is when Tragedy chose his own atrocious moment to intervene and stop the course of the play.
It only remains to be said that he flew into sulfur/monoxide updraft. The sudden lack of breathable air together with his exhilarated accelerated thoughts caused his heart to fail and betray him to fall…
It was quite a way down. He was killed with impact, and the crystal was broken.
This would be believed by most to be a most unsatisfactory en
She picked up the largest piece of crystal and the notebook. Sharmaynne, because of Shaft, was able to change Moonlight. With crystal in hand, the world of twilight became the world of sunlight. Our world was given new life.
Sorry, my "added details" are a bit out of order and a few sentences are missing, but you can e-mail me for a good version.