Okay, you might think I'm a glutten for punishment, but I really feel I'm learning a lot here, so I hope you'll bear with me as I give it another shot. I'd really appreciate your views on this latest effort. Is it better? Would you read on?
Thanks in advance...
Posty
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Chapter 1: The Loss
Needan stared down from the cliff’s edge, like a vulture poised on a dead tree limb. Unlike the vulture, he silently pleaded for a sign of life from the body of the boy, fifty feet below. An anvil of black cloud scraped over him, and the sudden downpour faded to a drizzle.
He turned away, only to see the horror reflected in the eyes of his two friends. Myles’ complexion, normally red and puffy like his hair, was drawn and ghost white. Drizzle rinsed his face, but it couldn’t hide the bloodshot eyes that mingled tears with the raindrops.
“Four Swords,” said Myles. “There’s supposed to be four.”
Needan paused, unsure what to do, but Sherath spread a long, spindly arm around Myles’ shoulders and drew him close.
“Dimeon will be okay,” Sherath said.
All three of them knew it was a lie.
Needan shook his head. “No, he’s gone. We have to tell the others. We can’t just stand here and hope and cry any longer. They have to know.”
Myles nodded but didn’t move. He just stared at the ruts in the mud that stopped at the edge of the cliff. Needan followed them too... Sherath and Myles had sprung from the trees, screaming and flying at them in mock ambush. He had somehow sensed the attack and ducked, sending Myles flying over his back. Myles staggered into Dimeon, who sprawled from the blow. Dimeon hopped to keep his balance, doing a little jig might have even been comical, were it not cut short when he tripped over the outcropping of rock. Next Dimeon was on the ground. He scratched for something to hold, but slid past the last few stunted trees that grew out from the rock face. The scream froze everything.
Needan’s hands instinctively covered his ears to muffle the piercing cry before realizing it was just a memory.
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