Cory could no more sleep than could the sea. Its cold breath raised goosebumps along his bare arms while he sweated under his leather tunic. Sand sifted into his sandals. Still, he kept searching for something, something he could not name, only feel the lack of.

Light flared behind him. Cory turned. Far off, on the promontory at the mouth of the bay, a blue flame rose halfway into the night sky. It cast its eerie glow over the beach, the cliffs, and the village on top of the cliffs. Cory shivered as he stared at the light, feeling a pull. A vague desire to go see what caused it teased him. He shrugged off the feeling and returned his attention to the beach.

The shattered bits of swords and armor were gone, picked up by women from the village and carried away with their men’s bodies.

alternate opening

Cory recalled it more clearly than anything before in his life. He remembered cowering behind farmer Rod and the miller this afternoon.

The Duke’s soldiers had spent the morning forcing men from their homes to stand on the sand armed with pitchforks and oak staffs to fight the sea raiders. The blacksmith’s son and his friends pretended they weren’t as scared as the rest of the village men, as if fighting sea raiders were no more trouble than beating Cory senseless after they’d had a mug or three of ale. Even though the bullies weren’t looking his way at the moment, Cory chewed nervously on his hand, the one holding upright the scythe thrust upon him for the coming battle.

“Easy, lad,” whispered farmer Rod. In his slow, dimwitted way

[This message has been edited by arriki (edited August 25, 2009).]

Light flared behind him. Cory turned. Far off, on the promontory at the mouth of the bay, a blue flame rose halfway into the night sky. It cast its eerie glow over the beach, the cliffs, and the village on top of the cliffs. <~~goodCory shivered as he stared at the light, feeling a pull. A vague desire to go see what caused it teased him. He shrugged off the feeling and returned his attention to the beach. He is surprisingly uninterested in the blue light. So I'm thinking this is a comman occurance or he is being coerced to keep searching the beach. It's a bit ambiguous.

The shattered bits of swords and armor were gone, picked up by women from the village and carried away with their men’s bodies.

"Sand sifted into his sandals." - you might try "through his sandals". I spent all day yesterday at the beach and I was grateful for the sand in, sand out feature of my sandals. My boyfrined, who was wearing high top sneakers, brought half the beach home with him. This might be a nitpick but it caught my attention.

"feel the lack of" - not sure about ending a sentence with 'of'. Maybe there's a better way to word this.

You mention 'cliffs' twice in one sentence. You can probably drop the first one as the second one with the village tells us of the cliff's existence and what the light is doing on them.

Cory is looking for something but he doesn't know what but the thing that tugs at him he shrugs off and ignores. I don't know if he's shrugging off what he may actually be looking for or if he knows what the feeling is or why he might not be interested. This might be a tease that keeps me guessing for awhile or it might be something to consider clarifying. Were you going for vagueness here? Do you explain it at some point?

Would this be better?

Cory recalled it more clearly than anything before in his life. He was cowering behind farmer Rod and the miller.

The Duke’s soldiers had spent the morning forcing men from their homes to stand on the sand armed with pitchforks and oak staffs to fight the sea raiders. The blacksmith’s son and his friends pretended they weren’t as scared as the rest of the village men, as if fighting sea raiders were no more trouble than beating Cory senseless after they’d had a mug or three of ale. Even though the bullies weren’t looking his way at the moment, Cory chewed nervously on his hand, the one holding upright the scythe thrust upon him for the coming battle.

“Easy, lad,” whispered farmer Rod. In his slow, dimwitted way Cory had always trusted Rod. “All we have to do is slow the

I think this takes too long to reach the fantasy elements. What do you think?

[This message has been edited by arriki (edited August 25, 2009).]

The Duke’s soldiers had spent the morning forcing men from their homes. They armed them with pitchforks and oak staffs then lined them up two deep on the beach. The blacksmith’s son and his friends pretended they weren’t as scared as the rest of the village men, as if fighting sea raiders were no more trouble than beating Cory senseless after a few mugs of ale. Even though those bullies weren’t looking his way, Cory expected another beating and chewed nervously on his hand, the one holding the scythe.

“Easy, lad,” whispered farmer Rod. In his slow, dimwitted way Cory had always trusted Rod. “All we have to do is slow the sea bastards down. Give the Duke’s men a fair chance at ‘em.”

“Duke’s men gots steel weapons,” Cory said. “Whyn’t they fight and leave us be?”

But is this as compelling as Cory wandering the beach after the battle?

But, I was thinking you could start the story even earlier. For example, Cory is tending his sheep (lovingly, giving us a reason to like him despite his slowness), he notices the magical blue flame (fantasy tip-off), then the bullies show up and bully him (show us his slowness, his cowardice!), then end your opening with the sea raider ship being sighted. Then we have the fantasy element, we pity and like Cory, we wonder about the magic flame, and we have the hook of the dangerous sea raider ship. I would avoid flashing back at all. Starting stories with "They HAD been doing this and they HAD been doing that" always strikes me as a late start.

I didn't think the beach wandering was all that compelling in the first place.

I'm emailing to troy and monstewer. Teraen, you don't have an email address. Email yours to me at mine if you're still interested and I'll send a copy on.

alliedfive -- all the writing instruction I've had has warned to open the scene or story as close to where something critical happens. Cory tending his sheep doesn't sound like that. Takes too long to get to the real story.

Other people have also had similar comments so here it is:

Yes, this is a very dark fantasy. Not my usual fare at all.
For some reason it haunted me and I had to write it. Making Cory a hero was never possible.