Sorana

I'll definitly order it.

"Thank you." she answered and reached again for the dough. Damaya continued to knead it until it felt ready, until it was a smooth ball lying in front of her. At the corner of her eye she discovered Coru sitting on a shelf, watching her. He had fallen silent as soon as Pallas had walked over to them. For a moment she nearly felt sad for him. He had stayed by her side for so many years, had been there when she needed help, had soothed her when she'd cried late at night. Disquietingly she held out her left arm. "You can come over." she told him, ignoring Pallas irriated gaze. He knew she had a spren with her, and he could guess that she didn't want him to sit on her arm. Coru hesitated, then curled himself into something resembling a snake made out of letters and folded himself around her arm, like a long bracelet. Regretting her softhearted moment she stared at the black band curling around her arm, vanishing under her sleeve. Resisting the urge to scratch at him, to throw him away. It had to be this place, the way Pallas looked at his mother, the quiet comfort of the kitchen. Forcefully she looked away and shook her head. She wouldn't tell him to go away, but this was the first and the last time. Taking a knife she started to help Pallas chop the vegetables.

Here you are. In general: I liked it a lot. The setting is interesting, and the character as well. I like the way you approach the superhero setting, because for me it was a mixture between the classical fantasy (anti-)hero and the more technical approach of a superhero. *thinks what she didn't write down in the document* I received Soul to be a very cold and non commited person. Almost like a machine. This leads to a question about his motivation. Is he programmed like a machine (because he isn't as a breaks their rules) or why and how does he decide when to follow and when to rebel. You don't have to tell me, but I feel like you should think about it. Where his lines are, he won't cross, or when his patience is over. If you have any questions regarding the feedback, please ask, I tried to keep my comments short but still understandable. Same with Itiah, if you want to bounce a few ideas back and forth, feel free to contact me. Otherwise, if you want to, I will simply give feedback to the next part. Please tell me, if the way I do it isn't helpfull for you, then I can change it. I don't need to go that much into detail, but if it helps you, then I gladly invest the time. Also if word doesn't work for you I can upload a pdf. But using the commentary function made it easier for me. I'm looking forward to the next part and what will become of him. feedback_sorana.docx

Such as ... dividing by goat? A long time ago in a goat far, far away... I also didn't read the whole thread

Mistborn. I think we had that one before. Would you rather have an autograph of Breeze or Ham?

Damaya grinned at Pallas then turned towards the oven. She liked him. Especially his "I want to seem older and more confident and I am the man in house" behaviour. Right now it was more cute than impressing, but give him one or two more years and he would grow into it. "Do you think that will be enough?" she asked him, "I made more dough because so many guests arrived, but my experience with cooking for so many is limited."

Definitly! Sry seems like I missed that post...

Damaya smiled at Pallas, ignoring his harsh thone. As long as he didn't scream at her, she could handle that. "Hot cakes. Your mother told me I could do it to earn a lesson ." Proudly she showed him a basket with the ready ones. "Do you want to try?"

A few months into year thirteen "Put it higher." Damaya raised her staff higer and the man shook his head. "Not like that." He raised his staff. "Do it like that." She imitated his movements awkwardly. The staff felt strange in her hands. In was a simple thing, without any metal on it's end. Originally meant to be used when travelling, it looked harmless. And in her hands it was harmless. The man knocked her softly on her right leg, reminding her that she had gotten her footing wrong again. Damaya changed her weight to her left foot and he sighed. "I'm really bad?" she asked and he laughed. "There are people, who have a natural way to handle a weapon. And there are those, that have to earn every single step. But if you train long enough you can learn how to wield it properly." The continued for a while, without any real progress on Damayas side. But it felt good to move, to do something else than wait for the evening, fear what it might bring. She didn't realize, that a serving girl had entered, a grim look on her face, when the girl spoke to her, startling her so that she lost her grip on the staff and it fell on the stone floor. The sound was loud, too loud, like a musician that a struck a wrong chord it didn't fit. "The master wants to see you." Without uttering another word, the guard took her staff und put it away. And again there was that weight pushing her down, pulling at her feet, making it seem like the world was about to end. Five words enough to fall down on her like a pendulum, cutting her in half, breaking her apart. She knew what the words meant, knew it too well. They stood for glowing spheres, for a fist raised in anger, for pain, excrutiating, endless pain. Laying a hand on her back, the guard escorted her upwards, his steps slow, but his grip firm. He wouldn't let her flee, she knew that, he had a son to look after, he needed his job. And a guard who didn't listen to orders was useless. Nobody would offer him a new place to stay. "Be strong, little one." he whispered, before opening the door, pushing her almost gently through. Damaya looked back, but he had already closed the door. The master stood there, watching her, glowing spheres in his hands. "You have one more chance. Afterwards, you'll go this woman. And then I expect to see results." He walked closer and she stepped back, pressing herself against the door. For a moment she considered to try to run, to jump out of a window, but the thought was thrown away by his sheer presence, before she had a chance to really think about it. "Breathe in." And like everytime, nothing happend, nothing but his fist connecting to her body, but her sobs filling the room, her mind finally letting her go.

Damaya watched Pallas help his mother and then finally entered the kitchen. It was warm, a fire heating the oven, the dough nearly ready. Kneading it a last time she started splitting it in smaller potions and rolled them into small balls. She then pushed them into the oven and started humming a little song. It felt good to do something, to keep her hands busy and her mind far away from dangerous thoughts. Coru started to hum along with her and she let him. There were so many strange people in the general room. The chance that someone else would look at Coru and decide to use them were slim. And in the end, it couldn't really get worse than in the city. The work calmed her and her joking, laughing mask fell down, as she fetched the hot cakes out of the oven, putting another batch into it. There wasn't any need for it here, no one to convince, not even herself. It felt good to put it on, to be carefree for a few moments, to laugh and joke, but this, this quietness, was what she cherished even more. Her problems, her fears were far away, while she concentrated on the task at hand. Her past was her past and her future her future. This was the present and in the small, quiet bubble of the kitchen it was enough. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough. Pausing for a moment she decided to make more dough, as it seemed like the Waystop would be full this evening.

Hello and welcome to the shard! Just a general piece of advice: try to avoid posting two times in a row in the future. If you want to add something you can do this by editing youre previous post. It's allright this time as you're new, but please keep it in mind.

No problem. I just wanted to make sure that you can fix it. *scrolls back to read it*

I look forward to it. The other two entries are really strong. But if you're better then I don't have to choose between them

You put it in a quote and not a Spoiler Box. At least for me I can only see the first line and the rest is missing.

When you look at your shelf and realize athat about half of Brandon's books are missing. Because if I push them in my friend's hands, they take them with them and they usually read it only to give it back to me one day....

I like Soul It's a good start, and I'd like to se how you go on. I'll give you a more detailed feedback either this, or tomorrow's evening. If you want to, of course...

A chasmfied. Because I imagine them to be strange, but beautiful and I'd like to see the chasmns in real. Would you rather dance with Valette/ Vin or Shallan?

Damaya shrugged. "Through the door." she answered and then added more seriously: "I don't know what happened. I couldn't see my hands for a short while and you obviously didn't see me as well. Maybe Yzabet knows what's going on."

About the beginning of year five Damaya smiled politelty, though the smile felt frozen und unreal on her face, the woman was satisfied. "You may eat." Her voice was still soft and Damaya hated it. She hated everything about this place. Except for the food, and the books, and the cloths and the bed. Those she liked. A lot, if was honest with herself. Life here was better. Her chances to survive her childhood had exploded, but she had exchanged the freedom of the streets for a golden cage. The woman, she had a name, but Damaya made a point to think of her only as the woman, definitly was crazy. Not a good kind of crazy, but more a dangerous mind twisting kind of crazy. Damaya was her dead daughter. And so she had to behave like a person she never met, had to spend her time sitting next to the woman, so that she could be seen. These were the good days. The days the woman was more or less lucid. On the bad days everybody tried to avoid her, as the woman was screaming, throwing stuff around, sometimes hitting the servants. Or Damaya if she got close. So Damaya, like everyone else developped some kind of routine. The good days were for work, the bad days for hiding. At first it felt strange to live that, but after a while it became a twisted sense of natural. Damaya thought about leaving, even stood at the door one day looking outside, but then she turned around. She couldn't leave, she couldn't go back to the streets. This wasn't the life she wanted, but it was life. And maybe, when she was older, when she could earn some money, maybe then she could leave once and for all. Most days she practiced writing, or studied. The woman even paid tutors and Damaya grew to love this part over everything else. The tutors told her stories about countries and worlds who were far away, and she listened to them, wishing she could travel there one day. About the beginning of year thirteen "She needs to train. You can't even imagine how much money we could earn." The woman seemed unconviced, but the man continued. "That's a cryptic. If she learns how to use the power, then she will be able to make Illusions. The perfect scam." His eyes got a dreamy expression and Damaya walked backwards, until she hit the wall. Coru crawled over to her, hiding. And for once she was glad that he was here. "Money?" the woman asked thoughtfully. She still had some bad days, but they had receeded, had been replaced by something darker. And her new husband only enhanced this tendency. "We need the money. I'd like to have another servant." Satisfied that she supported him, he turned to Damaya, stopped in front of her, pushing some glowing spheres in her hands. "Breathe that in." he commanded, his huge form dominating everything she could see. "What? How?" Damaya stuttered, fear clenching down on her stomach. "Breathe that in." he repeated and closed his fist. Damaya took a breath and nothing happened. And she was glad about it. She didn't want anything to happen. His fist hit her in the stomach and she doubled over, gasping for breath, pain taking over every sentinent thought. "Breath that in." His voice was cold, merciless and she tried to get away from him, but he caught her, hit her again, and again, and again. He repeated those three words, over and over until she dropped to the ground, unable to stand anymore, unable to do anything but lie on the ground and there was only pain. Her ears registered some words, but she wasn't able to fully understand them anymore. "We'll try again. One day she'll get the hang on it. And if she doesn't, there's this woman teaching this stuff. She can tell her how to do it." When she woke and started to sit up, she managed to supress a cry. It hurt, everything hurt. But what hurt the most were the spheres, lying dull next to her bed.

Everything he published and whatever unpublished works I could get my hands on.

I'm fine and you? And great that you've read all of his books!

Also from me another, official welcome

Hi and welcome to the Shard!