Story Sample 12: War of Broken Hearts
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Chapter
The Reader's Sample | War Of Broken Hearts, Chapter 1
THE GODS WERE NOTORIOUS for their lack of mercy when it came to death, yet Adara Rhys had escaped their wrath countless times, and planned to succeed once again. Opening Hook: A great hook that does three things really well: Character insight + intrigue + story direction. A good first sentence will do at least one of these. Adara herself was a believer in the gods, but that didn't mean she'd succumb to their calling for the afterlife. Character Agency: This builds up Adara as a unique person so we as the readers can care about her fate. It’s one of the most important parts of a first chapter, because if we don’t know what makes a character unique, they’re about as interesting as a videogame NPC. Note how often this chapter builds on Adara’s character, and what parts of her character. Death, a dark shadow nipping at her heels, followed her around as she barely kept out of its reach. Narrative Tension: Creates another question; how and why is death always at her heels? Strangely, she found comfort in its constant acquaintance. At the sight of the verdant island cresting the horizon, she felt it again—the familiar presence of Belor, God of Death, that sent chills down her spine as his cold hands clawed at her, icy and unforgiving. Setting & Worldbuilding: Subtle worldbuilding, creates intrigue around Adara and the island. But the gods seemed to forget they had made her Pherra, gifted with magic. The fire writhing inside her veins was enough to counter even the shadow of death. Metaphor Clarity: Metaphors are a risk for the first chapter in a fantasy novel. Because we are so early into the story, readers can get confused around what’s a metaphor and what’s worldbuilding. Belor would have to wait a while longer before dragging her down to Helfarrow, the eternal prison for souls of the damned.
Spyglass in hand, Adara perched atop the crow’s nest of the Valen Wind. Proper Noun Density: A lot of proper nouns in the first few sentences (Adara, Belor, Pherra, Helfarrow, Valen Wind) can quickly stack up to confuse the reader. There’s about 14 in the whole chapter, which works for establishing a high-fantasy world, but readers won’t remember even half of them. In the distance, a mountain stood gloriously tall, slicing through a layer of puffy white clouds. A shimmering blue waterfall spilled out from a shadowy cavern. Her eyes, which mirrored the bright blue sky, glittered in delight at the sight of the enchanted water that rendered its drinkers eternally young. Lush, green trees towered over the island, casting dark shadows in their wakes. Thick foliage obscured her view from most of the island, leaving it up to her imagination to decide what dangerous creatures lurked hungrily in the confines of Andreilia. Overusing Adjectives: Overusing adjectives hurts the scene more than it helps. A much more effective strategy is to use active verbs to build the scene. Describing how the sea glittered like gemstones tells the reader its a sunny day, the clouds are soft, the sea is clear and the sky is blue all in one (it also gives room to add in other senses). If you give your readers a detail that sets the vibe, they will imagine the rest. Let them build the world with you.
Despite the gory descriptions from stories told around the world of the horrid creatures—razor-sharp claws and teeth powerful enough to shatter bones, eyes like ice that freeze you with fear when you meet their gaze—Adara was well aware of the real monster she needed to watch out for: the King of Keys. The Thief of Hearts. Exposition Pacing: It is important to note that exposition like this takes the reader out of the scene, pausing time, and having them learn about something new when they’re just getting into the actual scene. Sometimes that’s needed in a story to give reader necessary info, but keeping things in-scene should be the goal for the first chapter. A real demon hiding beneath the skin of a nineteen-year-old. Dominic Nite carved out his own heart and tossed it into the Plagued Sea. Character Through Action: Tells us who a character is from action rather than just description. If he's capable of such a monstrous act against himself, who's to say he won't do worse to you? And unlike him, you won't survive. Adara recalled the words whispered between pirates in the harbors with a grimace. The ship shuddered, emulating her own trepidation, against the rough waves as it sailed toward the island that would become her salvation . . . or prison if Dominic Nite didn't take her offer. Curiosity Loop: The vague comment about ‘her offer’ keeps readers engaged in the next section of exposition. It’s very effective to put a question in the readers mind before going into exposition. Note down how many sentences within the exposition are used to create intrigue or increase the stakes.
Apprehension constricted her chest. She'd spent several sleepless nights devising a plan that would convince the King of Keys she was of more use to him alive than dead, settling on a bargain that might be the most ludicrous thing she'd ever done. Adara was going to propose a game of love to the Thief of Hearts. Offer her key to the King of Keys on a silver platter. A temptation she knew he couldn't resist.
Calandra, Goddess of Love, gifted each mortal with a key to their heart, a way of ensuring that people would find their soulmate. When you thought you found the one, you were supposed to trade keys. If you were soulmates, the keys would morph into permanent rings around your fingers. No one could have predicted the immense power that came with the keys. Not until innocent maidens started baring their hearts and giving their keys to the wrong person. Dominic Nite was clever. He found that the keys were more than just jewelry that tied you to the person you loved. In fact, they were much more powerful. The key to one's heart wasn't merely a token of love, but of life and magic as well. The source of all the power anyone could wield. When someone trustfully gave their key over, the key, in turn, trusted that person too. All it took was an immense amount of willpower, and the key would obey their wishes. Filling the Void: This piece of exposition is what I refer to as ‘filling the void’. It’s set up with a sentence that gives the reader a question that exposition will answer. In this case, it’s ‘What is her key and why would he want it?’ It will not compensate for info-dumping, but it’s much more effective than a block of unmotivated textbook info.
Dominic Nite had a reputation for manipulating girls into falling in love with him, unwittingly giving their key to a monster with no love left to give. If they were Pherra, he would call on the key to steal their magic, claiming it as his own with nothing more than a thought and the touch of his skin. If they were human, he'd merely drain their life away, killing them without remorse.
Adara knew it was risky, bargaining with an object of immense power. The enticing allure of a key, and therefore its magic and life, would surely be enough to earn a life on the island while she sorted out plans of vengeance. But more importantly, if she beat the Thief of Hearts at his own game, if she actually won, she'd take his magic, his life source. As insane as it was, she had run out of options. The enchanted water of Andreilia and Dominic Nite's key were her only hope at escaping death this time. Her only hope at near immortality and of any shot at revenge against the Shadow Empire. Protagonist Goal: Establishes the protagonist’s goal. This is important so readers understand their actions are motivated by something and it give them context to judge the protagonist by.
Adara lowered the spyglass, sucking in a deep breath as the island grew closer. Exposition Heavy Opener: This opener so far is very exposition-heavy, which is not something I’d recommend for most fantasy writers. When you’re writing draft 2 of your opening chapter, ask yourself ‘Is this exposition necessary to understand this chapter? Can it be pushed to a later chapter when readers are more engaged in the story? Can it be woven into the scene so the story keeps it’s momentum?’ The aroma of salt filled her nostrils. A light breeze raked through her long brown hair as the ship coasted over the undulating sea. Leaping from the crow’s nest, she grasped onto the rigging. Black leather gloves protected her palms from the burn as she slid down the ropes. Her matching boots thudded against the deck when she landed. Word Choice Note: Unrelated to the analysis, but I thought ‘matching boots’ was a funny adjective, like she usually doesn’t match her boots.
Then she strode toward the quarterdeck, steps unfaltering despite the rocking ship, an ease that came with months spent at sea. In-Scene Exposition: This is an example of exposition within a scene. It keeps pacing and tells us she’s experienced on a ship.
Captain Damon Lunard stood at the helm, features a cold mask, eyes fixated on the island ahead. Silver rings glinted in the beaming sunlight on his ivory fingers wrapped around the spokes of the wheel. A dark coat hung nearly to the bottoms of his onyx boots, billowing behind him like a mast filled with wind. Implicit Visuals: Similar to my earlier point on giving the vibe of a setting to let the reader imagine the details, the same can be implied when imagining clothing. In this example, most readers would subconsciously assume he has black boots by the dark coat because in real life, people with dark coats match it with dark boots 99% of the time. Like when you say someone’s wearing jeans, you don’t need to say they’re blue (only if they’re not). Readers will remember the vibe of a character a lot better than specific details.
Adara sidled up to the man who had become like an older brother to her in these past months. Though in the face of such peril, she couldn't muster a smile. Neither could Damon, it seemed. His jaw tensed, lips pressing into a tight line, brows furrowing beneath strands of inky black hair. Gray eyes shot a sideways glance at her. “Sure you want to do this?” She could practically hear his teeth grinding with the inquiry. Showing Dread: Describing the effect of Damon’s dread paints a better image than saying he’s afraid because it forces the reader into empathy rather than passive viewing.
Adara rolled her shoulders back, standing up straighter at his side, chin held high. “Of course,” she replied, grateful he couldn't see the pounding of her heart beneath the white blouse and red corset she wore. Her fingers absentmindedly ran over the ribs of the corset, where knives were sheathed in pockets sewn in, a gentle reassurance that she was never defenseless. Ring-clad fingers dipped into his coat pocket, fishing out a piece of parchment. Damon's silence ate away at her, making her insides churn with fear as he held it out to her. If the famed Captain Lunard, Master of the Seas, dreaded sailing to this island, whatever Andreilia held in store for her could not be good. Damon and his crew were the only ones successful in crossing the Plagued Sea, in reaching this enchanted island in the midst of monster-infested waters. Well, Damon's crew and those like Dominic Nite, who lived on Andreilia. But the Andreilians never returned to the mainland to tell the tale. To the rest of the world, they were nothing but ghosts, more creatures to haunt these waters.
Adara plucked the parchment from the captain’s fingertips, carefully unfolding it with a scrutinizing gaze. “What’s this?”
“A map of the island,” he said, his harsh gaze still cast forward.
Adara let out a snort. “Is this a joke?” she asked, shooting him a quizzical glance before returning her eyes to the paper, scanning it as if she missed something. “Half of it’s blank.”
“I’ve never ventured to that half,” he said tightly.
“Some help you are,” Adara muttered, folding the map and placing it in the pocket of her black pants.
The captain side-eyed her, gray eyes defensive. “I’ve risked my life crossing this cursed sea for you. I could have dumped your body in the middle of the ocean and left you as lykren food. So, yes, I’d say I’m an immense help.”
She suppressed a shudder at the thought of being bait for the foul beasts that lurked in the Plagued Sea, creatures responsible for the gruesome deaths of many sailors. Adara still pondered how Damon had been so lucky to escape a lykren . . . and to escape Dominic Nite. The captain had never told her the extent of the dangers he faced on Andreilia, having been the only one to ever leave the island. Only that there was a boy more perilous than any of the vile creatures in the depths of the Plagued Sea. That constant reminder did nothing to quell the trepidation roiling within her.
The island grew nearer. Adara swallowed the lump in her throat. “Is there anything else that can help me?”
Damon gave a slow nod, knuckles white on the spokes as he held the wheel steady. Then he pulled another parchment from the shadows of his coat.
“I hope this is the other half of the map,” she half-joked.
He glared at her. “This isn’t a game, Adara.”
Oh, but it will be soon, she thought. A game against the King of Keys. A winner that would steal a heart and a key. And a loser that would end up powerless, heartbroken, and ultimately dead. But Damon didn't need to know of her demented plans. It would only worry him more.
Adara unfurled the parchment, eyes eagerly scanning the words scrawled across the page in unfamiliar handwriting.
Where life ends in ruin
There is a way to reverse the clock
But as time flies, a storm is brewing
In scattered ashes, you will find them locked
Whispers float through cobbled streets
Carried far until they echo a loud chorus
But with sharing rumors, you must be discreet
Because it is the eyes that see for us
In different worlds, you'll find answers you seek
But beware of the shadows and flames
For fighting light and dark is not for the weak
But if you can fracture, realms will know your name
Adara’s lips parted in disbelief. “Is this what I think it is?” she whispered incredulously.
“Aye,” Damon confirmed. “The riddle for the Realm Fracturer.”
“How did you get this?” she stammered.
The Realm Fracturer was a weapon rumored to be capable of tearing through space and time. However, there was only one ancient tome instructing how to forge the Fracturing Sword . . . and it had disappeared centuries ago. Not that the instructions were worth much. It was written in an ancient tongue, and even if one could translate it, the riddle thwarted any further success.
Adara didn't miss the way Damon’s fingers gripped the wheel tightly to mask the tremors of his hands or how the muscles in his jaw ticked as if biting back a string of profanities.
“Dominic Nite,” he seethed.
The captain and the King of Keys had a river of bad blood flowing between them. That much was easily discernible by the way Damon spat out the name like it left a rotten taste in his mouth. She still deliberated what had gone down between the two, and how Damon had escaped Andreilia all those years ago. With Damon and Nite both having drunk from the enchanted water and being eternally young, Adara wondered how long their rivalry would go on. Perhaps forever.
“A few months ago, he approached me with an offer.” Damon nodded to the parchment clutched tightly in her fingertips, careful not to let such vital information be swept away in the wind. “He’d already translated and cracked the riddle. Five magical relics are needed to forge the Realm Fracturer. He wanted my help in finding them.” Unanswered Question: This begs the question “Why did Damon not bring the riddle or the map up sooner?” It should be justified and can be with a single sentence from Damon.
Adara listened intently, hanging onto the captain’s every word.
“Of course, there was no way in bloody Hel I was helping that demon with anything, but . . .” he trailed off, eyes turning to Adara once more.
Ice crept through her veins. She didn't like where this was going.
“You, Adara,” he said. “You could offer to aid him in his search for the relics—”
“Are you insane?” she shouted, hands splaying at her side. “You’ve heard the tales. A search for those relics is suicide!”
“Because not everyone was searching in the right places.”
“Even if they were, I don't doubt the real relics needed would be just as deadly to find.”
Damon sighed, running a hand across the dark stubble peppering his jaw. “It’s the only way he’ll keep you alive. If you have no use for him, he will find your key. He will drain your magic and your life until you are nothing but a lifeless husk of what you once were. It’s the only way, Adara.” Plot Integration: Everything around the Realm Fracturer stays untied to the main plot (Adara playing a game against Dominic Nite) until this sentence. The reader should feel like they are getting questions answered or seeing the story progress during exposition. This exposition does progress the story, but the reader doesn’t know how until this sentence.
Adara bit her lip, poring over this new information. She already had a plan to make Dominic Nite keep her alive: a game of love with their keys as the prize. A way for her to gain the magic that flowed through the Thief of Hearts's veins. But with the power of the Realm Fracturer too . . .
“The Realm Fracturer is capable of tearing through space and time, yes?” she thought aloud.
Damon nodded. “If the legends are true.”
“And what relics are needed to make it?” she inquired.
“A portal orb, ashes of the Ruins, an eye of the Whisperer, a dragon scale, and shadow steel.”
Adara’s entire body tensed. A portal orb could transport you anywhere in the blink of an eye, but those were buried in the depths of the Plagued Sea. The Ruins were a wasteland out west of Malryn. Other than that, she didn't know much about needing ashes from the Ruins, nor did she know what the Whisperer was. A dragon scale and shadow steel, however . . .
Perhaps she could strike another barter with Dominic Nite, for she knew where those relics resided. Gods, this was insane, but what other options did she have? A key was the only thing that could grant Adara more power, and Dominic’s was one of the most powerful, having absorbed magic from other keys. And the ability to tear through space and time with the Realm Fracturer? It would be like having the power of the gods at her fingertips. She could go home. And the Shadow Empire wouldn't stand a chance. Adara’s lips tugged into a smirk. “Your plan might be so crazy it works, Damon.” Competing Plots: The Realm Fracturer feels like a tangent that’s competing against the game of hearts. It can become confusing if it isn’t clear whether Adara’s going to go find the relics to make the Realm Fracturer or play the game of hearts. It should be clarified how those two are going to fit in the story together so it doesn’t feel like Adara’s now making a completely new plan.
The corner of his lips twitched in the ghost of a smile, the most expression she'd seen from him this entire trip. He hated coming back to this island. She could tell by his rigid posture, his harsh gaze, and his stern, acidic words. And again she wanted to ask what the King of Keys had done to make Damon so hostile here, but she knew she wouldn't get an answer.
Adara hastily braided her hair, the red streaks in it stark against the brown, as Damon hollered for the crew to drop the anchor. She went to the port as the rest of the crew prepared to lower a rowboat into the water for her. The clacking of boots against the deck sounded behind her. Adara’s fingers instinctively curled around Infinova’s hilt, finding comfort in the sacred sword her parents had crafted for her. The ruby in its pommel glinted in the sunlight.
Damon strode toward her. His gait was disrupted by the limp he permanently walked with, a result of having his knee bashed in with a mace in a scuffle with other pirates. If he was in pain from the lingering injury, the captain never showed it.
“Nite’s magic is tied to the island. He’ll sense you the second you set foot on shore. The others will hunt you down and won't stop until they bring you back to him,” Damon warned. Her heart pounded at his foreboding words. “Find the water and drink first. Then let them bring you back to Nite and make a deal with him to search for the relics. Savvy?” Scene Transition: A final sentence to clarify to the reader the exact direction of the story before advancing into a new scene.
Adara could only summon a nod in response. She stepped toward the rowboat. A firm hand landed on her shoulder, and she glanced back.
“Remember,” Damon said, eyes softening in a way that made Adara’s chest ache, “Survive at all costs.”
The way his brows furrowed in a frown and his eyes grew weary made it seem like a permanent farewell. She supposed it might be. She was either going to die on Andreilia at the hands of Dominic Nite, or she was going to win this game of love, forge the Realm Fracturer, and return to Blemythia. Her hand drifted to the chain around her neck, brushing over the cool metal. It had become a subconscious habit to touch the key—cold and empty because the one whose life it encompassed was gone—resting against her chest. A subtle act that brought her comfort as well as sorrow.
With this key, she could still sense the memory of Cal imprinted on her soul. But she would never be able to feel his skin on hers again, only the icy metal of a painful reminder that he was no longer with her. It was for him that she'd promised to always live to fight another day. For him and now Damon that life was a risk she had to take.
Itryla al rone yi mon taka, she thought.
“You know I will,” she replied, tossing a bow and quiver over her shoulder. Then she stepped into the rowboat, sights set on Andreilia.
When she reached the shore, Adara turned toward the Valen Wind. Though Damon was far out at sea, she spotted him at the prow, shoulders slumped, hands hanging limply at his side. She imagined the sorrow in his gray eyes, like a storm cloud hovering over him. Her fingers ran over the metal vambrace on her left forearm. Trying to block out thoughts of what lay beneath that armor, Adara tucked her arm in the folds of her royal blue cloak that billowed behind her. The gold dragon embroidered on the back would be a beacon once she stepped into the forest, but she couldn't bring herself to part with the symbol of home. Adara brought her hand to her forehead, saluting the captain before letting her arm drop back down as she muttered, “Nin mon lat amor onn alt itryla.” The ancient warriors of Blemythia were never keen on saying goodbye. Instead, they said, “We shall meet again in another life.” Worldbuilding & Character: A subtle worldbuilding detail that’s also tied to Adara’s avoidance of death.
Of course, Damon was too far away to hear, and even if he did, he wouldn't understand the obsolete language she spoke. It was a complex, archaic tongue that only the royalty of Blemythia tried to comprehend. Most Blemythians spoke Malrynese now, but the royals would not let their ancient past be forgotten.
Pushing aside the thought of home, Adara pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, casting shadows across her face. Remembering what Damon said about Nite sensing her on the island, she ran into the jungle, hurrying toward the mountain where Andreilia’s enchanted water—and eternal youth—awaited. Chapter Ending: Ending sentence puts Adara in motion toward her goal, ready for the next chapter.
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Overall: This chapter is really well written, and had me interested from the first sentence. It does two things really well that make it stand out; Building up the protagonist, and giving the story a direction. By the end of the chapter, We know Adara’s goals (return home and get revenge on the Shadow Empire), that she’s capable (given the fact she’s been avoiding the god of death, Balor), her personality (relentless and emotionally guarded) and that she’s faced tragedy in her past (references to Cal, assumed to be dead). Goals, capability, personality, and hints at her backstory. A reader won’t care about a story if they don’t care about the protagonist. A reader also won’t care about a protagonist they don’t understand.
Where this chapter could be improved in my opinion is in two main areas: over-describing and info-dumping. I counted about 150 adjectives, from ‘blue skies’ to ‘black shoes’. Over-describing forces a reader to conform their imagination to the author’s imagination, and it usually results in a less vivid picture (and larger word count). Focusing on capturing the vibe works a lot better. You don’t need to describe every item of clothing if you say the person looks like a street thug. You don’t need to describe everything about an island if you describe how the greenery casts it into shadows. This is a principal you will often see in Robin Hobb’s writing, who will opt for describing the smell, a few small items, and what the protagonist touches, rather than the exact details of a setting.
This chapter undeniably has too many blocks of information that pause the scene, and takes the reader out of the story. Sections like the one about the keys and her plan are almost unavoidable, so I’d also like to praise how well they were set up to keep them engaging. Nonetheless, as a rule of thumb, you want your exposition to be invisible. Weaving information in the scene is almost always the best option. Good exposition is invisible.
Overall, this is a really good opening chapter. I read through dozens upon dozens upon dozens of opening chapters every single week, so I can say without a doubt this is a standout. I hope some of my notes on this chapter could teach you something new. Thank you.