[Short Stories] Elyon's Notebook

[Cintran]

I'll be using this thread to display my Creative Works, both incomplete, and finished drafts. Feel free to comment and provide critique as you feel moved to.

Untitled Short Story 1 (Unfinished) The black iron cages pulsed with a malevolent energy, and it was the only light in the area, evoking a pale purple that case shimmering spotlights on the cobalt floor below. The spotlights undulated, moving with the slow, lilted swing of the cages, which each housed an elf, terrified and stripped off all clothing. In total, there were five, rhythmic swinging cages, and five, pale skinned dirty captives huddled in their individual prisons. Some thirty feet below, a tall man wearing spectacles observed his specimens, craning his neck and bobbing his head as he acknowledged each one with a pensive hum. He was older, at least sixty years of age. He had tousled gray hair that spilled to his back and a beard that covered his sharp, pointed features. All about him were heavy silk robes, white in hue though they took on the violet of the swinging lights above. “Egarath, lower prisoner three.” The man commanded into the darkness, which surrounded his small radius of purple light. There was a heavy shuffling, and a sharp whine. A straining of metal preceded a rattling of chain as one of the cages lowered. The elf inside stirred with a groan. He was very young and covered with emerald markings. His hair was short, platinum and slicked back, and his eyes, blue as they looked out, had a kindness to them, even in the face of fear. “Velen Fensalor, High Priest of the Fensalor Clan. Have I identified thee?” “Wh-where am I?” Velen murmured, straining to make out what details he could. He was now at eye level with the figure, and he could sense an unnatural energy exuding from his inquisitor. He appeared a simple man, older and scholarly, but he had an unnatural command of his surroundings. The air rippled about his immediate person, distorting his features so it made it hard to determine his exact shape. “Are you Velen Fensalor, High Priest of the Fensalor Clan?” The man asked again, his voice colder this time. He waved a hand, and the purple energy about Velen’s cage grew brighter, coiling around it’s bars like serpents and hissing in likeness. Velen shuddered and drew his knees and arms into himself. The energy had a jarring effect. It did not hurt him physically, but it drilled into his brain as a hum, maddening, and rising steadily to a horrible crescendo. He felt that if he did not take action his mind would explode. Weakly he lifted his arm, as if to subdue the evil magics which gnawed at him, but he found that he had no connection to his power. He drew his hand back over his legs, and with a resigned sigh he offered, looking directly at the man. “Corellon t-take you. I am Velen. I demand you let me out of this cage. You profane a sacred post of the Fensalor clan and risk swift retribution." “As you wish.” The older man snapped his fingers and the cage about Velen evaporated into dust. “You are free. Though you’ll find you may have preferred the safety of your prison. As you will find soon, you are not alone.”

[Ritten]

I would read more of this! An instantly intriguing set up, I'm invested!

One sentence brought me out of the story a bit as it runs a little awkwardly over the mental tongue:

He drew his hand back over his legs, and with a resigned sigh he offered, looking directly at the man.

IMO you could make this flow better (more like the rest of your writing!). Absolutely do it to your liking, but even a two word change like this might work: He drew his hand back over his legs, and with a resigned sigh he looked directly at the man.

I'm very interested to know what befalls Velen and what lurks in the shadows. I hope you decide to post more!