Alright. I've been writing this story for going on three years now, and I've only just now perfected the first chapter. This is the first part of it - there's still more to the chapter, I just don't have time to re-read it and edit it for posting at the moment.

Please leave some kind of feedback, as I'm getting somewhat discouraged from posting stuff here lately.

So, without further adu... here it is.

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Fire surrounded him. Smoke threatened to smother him. Screams pierced the night. As civilians ran in terror past his hiding place, armed soldiers marched through the burning city, the golden crest of the Dark Empire emblazoned on their chestplate armour gleaming in the light of the burning village. He rolled into a ball as they marched ever closer, their swords cutting through the pathetic resistance they met. A pair of strong hands burst through the pile of debris he was cowering behind, and grabbed him by the front of his ratty old tunic. He was pulled out of his shelter, and thrown to the ground. The soldier kicked him hard in the ribs, and he felt a few of them crack. He glared up at the man, hatred burning in his eyes. The soldier smiled darkly, revealing sharp teeth with even sharper incisors. He raised his sword above his head, smiling gleefully, a maniacal glint in his eyes. His sword glinted in the light of the fire as it swung down towards him...
A militia officer came from behind him and drove a dagger into the back of the man's neck. He screamed in agony, falling to his knees. He looked up at the militia officer. It was his father.

"Amol, get out of here!" he said. "Find your mother and run! I'll follow you shortly!" He threw him his sword, and picked up the dead officer's. "Go!" he yelled.

Amol scrambled to his feet, his father's sword dragging along the ground at his side. He ran through the village, dodging behind pieces of debris and burning buildings to avoid the Imperial troops. He couldn't find his mother anywhere. Just as he was about to turn back to find his father, again, he heard her screaming.

"No, leave me alone! Help me, somebody HELP ME!"

He turned and saw her surrounded by Imperial soldiers. One of them stood behind her. He forced her to her knees, then placed his sword at her throat. Amol jumped over the scattered bodies and burning debris towards her, screaming at the top of his lungs, hoping to catch the attention of the men attacking her. They all looked up at him as he approached, raising their swords. He wasn't paying attention to what was going on behind him.

A pair of strong arms grabbed him around the waist and lifted him off the ground, grabbing his wrist and forcing the sword from his hand. He was then thrown to the ground and kicked again, this time in the face. He felt the crunch of bones, accompanied by the warm wetness of blood seeping down his face from his broken nose. Ignoring the pain, he tried to stand, but the soldier smacked him across the face, the force of the blow sending him sprawling to the ground again. The soldiers laughed at him, ignoring the stream of curses he was throwing at them through his bleeding nose.

"Leave him alone!" screamed his mother, struggling against the soldier holding her in place.

"Oh, but he's so much more entertaining than you!" said the soldier holding her, pressing the blade closer against her throat.

Amol took advantage of his mother's distraction, kicking the closest soldier in the knee. He picked up his sword, and swung it clumsily at the man's face, leaving a deep cut from his forehead to his jaw. The man screamed in pain, but quickly recovered. Amol swung again, but the man grabbed the blade and tore it out of his hand, ignoring the deep cut that was left in his palm. Amol kicked out at the soldier's stomach, but the man simply grabbed his foot, pulling him down to the ground.

"Watch it, kid," he spat, pulling out his own sword. "Unless you want me to tear out your throat and feed it to you."

"Leave him alone!" screamed his mother again. "He's just a child, he-"

"SHUT UP!" screamed the man, smacking her across the face. She spat out blood on his feet. He growled and shifted his sword on her. "I should kill you now!"

"No!" screamed Amol. "If you touch my mother again, I'll kill you myself!"

The man grinned darkly, and Amol noticed for the first time the general's insignia on his left shoulder. "Mother, eh...?" he said, his grin widening. "How interesting..."

He grabbed her by the throat and pulled her to her feet. "So tell me, young man," he said. "What would you do if I were to do THIS!?"

He drove his sword into her stomach, and brought it up and out through her ribcage. Amol's heart stopped. He watched helplessly as mother's body fell to the ground, a shocked yet defiant look on her face.

Tears strained down his face. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!" he yelled, lunging at the general. One of the soldiers tried to grab him, but he punched him as hard as he could in the face. The soldier stumbled backwards, and by the time he had recovered, Amol had knocked the general to the ground, and wrapped his hands around the man's throat. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!" he yelled again. "YOU KILLED MY MOTHER! YOU DIRTY, ROTTEN, STINKING SON OF A BITCH!"

The soldier he had punched grabbed him by the tunic and threw him off, and another grabbed him and lifted him into the air, pinning his arms to his side. The general stood, massaging his throat. "Take him with us," he spat. "I'll want some... alone time with the little-"

An explosion rocked the ground as the nearby house was torn to shrapnel. The soldier holding him was knocked to the ground, and he was freed. He scrambled to his feet, ready to attack the man who ha killed his beloved mother - but when he looked around, the general was gone. He could still hear him barking orders, but he couldn't see him. There was too much mayhem. Villagers ran screaming in all directions. He scanned each of their faces, hoping to see his father.

"Amol!"

He turned around and saw his father running towards him from where his mother had died, carrying his own sword again. "Amol, thank the Gods. Take this," he said, thrusting the sword into his hands again. "Get out of here. Escape the village. Run to Marithena. Your mother's sister will take care of you until I arrive."

"I can't leave you!"

"Go, Amol! I've lost my wife already, and I refuse to lose my son! Go!"

Amol wanted to stand and argue, but he couldn't defy the pleading look in his father's eyes. He nodded, took the sword, and ran.

= = = =

Amol Kotay crouched in the canopy of the trees, the memory of his mother's death running through his head once again, as it often did during his late night hunts. The look on his mother's face had burned itself into his mind's eye. Whenever he closed his eyes, there she was, staring at him with her brilliant blue eyes.

His mother's sister hadn't taken care of him. By the time he had gotten to Marithena, the village had been destroyed, just like his own. He hadn't had a real home in almost 15 years.

Movement. Forcing his mother from his mind, he jumped down from the treetops, landing gracefully on the ground, his father's old sword in hand, gleaming in the moonlight. He examined the prints left in the soil carefully. Six claws. Definitely qewcat tracks.

Moving quickly and silently across the clearing, Amol carefully knelt behind the dense foliage of a morlak shrub. The leaves didn't carry the distinct scent of his feline prey, even though the footprints ran right underneath it. It must have past by hours ago. He had spent the past hour hunting a prey that had been gone for hours.

Straightening up, he looked up to the moons overhead. The green moon was almost right above him, outshining the black, which had just broken the horizon an hour ago. The red and white wouldn't be up for another two hours, and the blue had just set an hour beforehand.

The stars shone with the moons, sparkling and twinkling brightly. They were nearing the end of their cycle - once the white moon rose above the horizon, their light would fade out, and day would begin.

His thoughts strayed back to the night his mother had died. He hadn't seen his father again. He had waited in Marithena for almost three weeks for his father to find him, but he had never come. After another week of denial, Amol finally came to accept that his father was dead. He was alone.

So he had filled his life with all that he had left - the hunt for the general who had led the attack on his home. The man who had ruthlessly slaughtered his mother, whose soldiers had cut down his father. He had spent years learning all he could about the man who had destroyed his family. He had learned a great deal.

The man was Lieutenant General Grath K'ntrel. Three years ago, he had been promoted to Brigadier General, after the attack he led against the Kintari Outpost on the edge of the Badlands. That attack had crippled the Alliance, leaving a gaping whole in their defence, which the Empire had taken advantage of. They had swarmed in through the badlands, taking out the Buliva Barracks and Sintari Defence grid before finally being stopped at the Musalis River.

He had devoted his life to hunting the man who had destroyed his family, and robbed him of his childhood. For 14 years, Amol had lived in the wilderness of the Badlands, performing menial labour for the useless scum of both Imperial and Allied territory. He despised working for Imperial citizens, but found that he had little choice if he was to gain information on K'ntrel.

He began walking through the woods, intent on reaching his camp site before the black moon got too high - once the green moon fell below it, the landscape would be thrown into almost complete darkness, the black moon being the primary source of light. For the hour that it dominated the sky, the forest became a very dangerous place.

He reached his campsite in just under an hour - the black moon was halfway up in the sky, and the green was nearing the horizon. The stars were shining more brightly than ever as he stoked the fire with his sword to get it burning again. He sat next to the flames, wrapping the thin blanket around his shoulders and staring into the fire...

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Like I said, this is all I've been able to review and get ready to post for now. I'll start working on the rest of the story sometime after this coming weekend, but I won't have time before that.

Good opening, I liked it. It doesn't seem Star Wars, but I suppose we'll find out why. I look foward to more and I hope you can finish this one.

I like the new Avatar too.

There's one good reason it doesn't sound Star Wars. It's not. ;)

Yeah i was going to say it is a bit graphic for Star Wars but as it's not, it's excellent.

Ok, since you're looking for feedback, I'll give you some. :)

Overall, it's pretty good for an introductory chapter to...whatever you're eventually going to entitle it. You use a lot of description, your transitions are smooth, and it flows nicely. It's a bit violent, but I'm sure you did that to demonstrate the degree of the brutality the Empire practices.

However, I do have some constructive comments. You might think I'm off base with some of them, but hopefully, you can use them to make your story even better. :)

First off, why are the soldiers so interested in Amol if he is only a small boy? (I'm assuming he's small because he's 'dragging his father's sword' and he's 'grabbed around the waist and lifted off the ground' all with apparent ease by the soldiers, not because you mentioned his age, height, or perspective.) You mention Amol's father is a militia officer, but I didn't get the feeling that he was the leader of the militia group or the leader of the village either. So, why is Amol singled out by the Imperial General? Surely the General would be more concerned about his troops and the overall objective rather than a small boy and his mother.

And does Amol have superhuman powers? He seems to get cracked ribs very early on, then a broken nose, is bleeding profusely, suffers repeated head blows, but still manages to run, attack soldiers, and later the General. Even with lots of adrenaline flowing, I find it hard to believe he could do this. His injuries don't seem to mesh with his later actions.

Does a black moon shine? It apparently does for Amol, but I'd picture it more as a dead spot in the sky myself.

Amol waits in Marithena for 3 weeks, but you mention earlier that it was totally destroyed. Can't picture a small injured boy hanging around a burned out village for 3 weeks on his own, unless there were survivors you didn't mention who helped care for him during that time.

In a single paragraph, you mention the Kintari Outpost, the Badlands, the Alliance, the Buliva Barracks, Sintari Defence grid, and the Musalis River. That's a lot of information all at once, considering that your 'world' up until that point contained two villages, the Empire, and the forest that Amol is now hunting in. The 'Sintari Defence grid' just seems too technological for me at this point in the story, too, considering the only 'technology' I recall you had mentioned so far was a grenade. Everything else was swords, fists, and fire, which sounds more medieval to me.

Hope you don't think I was too harsh with my observations. But, well, you did ask for feedback! ;)

Hope you don't think I was too harsh with my observations. But, well, you did ask for feedback! ;)

Careful, what you wish for, you should be... :yoda:

Interesting, Doctor; in fact, a bit off-beat, but nice work. :)

First off, why are the soldiers so interested in Amol if he is only a small boy? (I'm assuming he's small because he's 'dragging his father's sword' and he's 'grabbed around the waist and lifted off the ground' all with apparent ease by the soldiers, not because you mentioned his age, height, or perspective.) You mention Amol's father is a militia officer, but I didn't get the feeling that he was the leader of the militia group or the leader of the village either. So, why is Amol singled out by the Imperial General? Surely the General would be more concerned about his troops and the overall objective rather than a small boy and his mother.
The General was torturing Amol's mother for his sick twisted sense of fun. When Amol got in the way, he really only wanted to shut him up. It wasn't until Amol showed him the level of disrespect he did that he wanted to take Amol with him for some 'alone time' - ie to torture him, as well.

And does Amol have superhuman powers? He seems to get cracked ribs very early on, then a broken nose, is bleeding profusely, suffers repeated head blows, but still manages to run, attack soldiers, and later the General. Even with lots of adrenaline flowing, I find it hard to believe he could do this. His injuries don't seem to mesh with his later actions.
"There isn't a little boy in existence who wouldn't tear the world apart to save hi mummy." I don't really know how else to explain it... I know that if one of my parents was in that kind of danger, I would force down the pain to help them. I think the same could be said about most children.

Also keep in mind that you don't know a great deal about Amol yet. Patience, padawan. :P

Does a black moon shine? It apparently does for Amol, but I'd picture it more as a dead spot in the sky myself.
Not the same way the other moons shine, no. The black moon emits... well, black light. That's why the forest is so dangerous when it's dominating, and why the stars are at their brightest - there's no light there to illuminate the trees or block out the stars.

Amol waits in Marithena for 3 weeks, but you mention earlier that it was totally destroyed. Can't picture a small injured boy hanging around a burned out village for 3 weeks on his own, unless there were survivors you didn't mention who helped care for him during that time.
I should have explained that better. He would never have been stupid enough to remain in the village. I'll edit the chapter to fix that as soon as I can.

In a single paragraph, you mention the Kintari Outpost, the Badlands, the Alliance, the Buliva Barracks, Sintari Defence grid, and the Musalis River. That's a lot of information all at once, considering that your 'world' up until that point contained two villages, the Empire, and the forest that Amol is now hunting in. The 'Sintari Defence grid' just seems too technological for me at this point in the story, too, considering the only 'technology' I recall you had mentioned so far was a grenade. Everything else was swords, fists, and fire, which sounds more medieval to me.
I plan on explaining the world a great deal - as well as the Sintari Defence Grid. Remember, this is only the first chapter.

Hope you don't think I was too harsh with my observations. But, well, you did ask for feedback! ;)
Not at all. I asked for feedback. I'm just glad I finally got some for once. :)