Story Sample 8: The Knife’s Edge
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You’re a fan of Wheel of Time
You want a fantasy world with deep worldbuilding
You like an underdog protagonist
Dragons | High Fantasy | Adventure | Magic
Summary:
When legends come to life the world trembles from a single name. Ronin. Once-heroes from a different age, they wield elemental powers… wind, water, fire, stone, forest, sun, moon, flesh, and metal. At the same time, a young man discovers his best friend with a sword in her stomach, and dark wings sprouting from her back. Guards rush onto the scene, accuse him of the act, and he is forced to flee. In a new world without his memories, Gray must find his way amid legends and darkness, as he wrestles with an elemental power inside himself. A power all too similar to the infamous Ronin…
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Chapter 1
Chapter 1: The Return
The Reader's Sample | The Knife's Edge, Chapter 1
Kirin ran. Using the tooth of the battlement as a stepping stone, he launched himself at Ren. Spatial Staging: Good spatial positioning mid action; gives us the setting without slowing the pacing. Steel clanged and metal sparked, and his muscles strained against his master's parry. Today, Ren would lose and Kirin would prove himself worthy of the title of Devari.
Ren smiled through the mesh of their swords, his peppered beard rustling. "You've got a gleam in your eyes today, my young apprentice. I like that." Then his eyes, the color of Cloudfell's pale blue waters, narrowed. "What have you got up your sleeve?" Info Overload: Introducing two characters, the setting, a mission (proving himself worthy), 'Devari' and a place called Cloudfell in the first few sentences gives the reader too much to decipher and can take them out of the moment.
"Me? Nothing," Kirin lied through his clenched teeth. Dialogue Tag: Dialogue tag is unnecessary.
Ren returned a flat stare. "You are perhaps the world's worst liar, you know that, right?"
Kirin growled in response, still straining to hold Ren's parry. He felt sweat dripping down his own brow in the hot sun, stinging his eyes. Opposite him, Ren was irritatingly cool. The cursing man hadn't even broken a sweat. He could have been out for a dicing stroll, not locked in combat. Redundant Calm: 3 lines about how calm Ren is. Last one not needed.
"I think it's admirable, really. One of your better qualities," Ren continued, taunting him, and leaned into the parry. Awkward Structure: Awkward sentence structure; having the dialogue tag on the second sentence, and joining it with two different actions makes the sentences sit wrong.
Kirin pressed back, pushing into his master's sword, metal gnashing, and grinned. Beat Overload: Two back to back sentences with too many beats. For sentences like this, it's better to stay with 3 beats (the rule of 3), plus the first two beats say roughly the same thing. "Kirin pressed back, metal gnashing, and grinned." "I'm going to win today. You know that, don't you?"
A flicker of amusement ghosted across his master's face. "Is that so?"
"It is."
Ren pushed harder, and Kirin lost ground. "One piece of advice, my boy: gloat after victory. Never before." Then Ren swung and Kirin leapt back, barely dodging the man's blade. Action Beat: Good action beat.
Seven hells, Kirin thought, it moved like the wind. Kirin eyed his master from a dozen paces away, trying to catch his breath.
They were alone on the ramparts. The fog of dawn still clung, the sun barely cresting the horizon. Despite the chill in the air, Ren was bare-chested, wearing only a pair of frayed pants. His frame had been tanned dark by the unforgiving sun; like the dark clay left to dry, crack and harden in famed Farbian earthenware. Woven Worldbuilding: Nice bit of worldbuilding woven into character description. Plus comparing him to clay that's left to 'dry, crack and harden' goes beyond just a physical description, touching on his personality.
A long scar ran diagonally across Ren's chest. A few more white lines marred his shoulders and arms. There was not a scrap of fat on him. Only his Komai braid showed his age. Black and streaked with white, the braid hung over his shoulder — its length denoting his high rank.
Standing in the dawning light, Ren, leader of the Devari, and famed blademaster of Farbs, looked like something out of the stories. Description Overload: Readers struggle to remember more than three details at once. This piece has 4-10 descriptive pieces (clothing, body, scars, hair and more descriptives inside those), plus backstory on some of them. Can be cut to focus on the most important aspects of his appearance.
For a dozen years Kirin had trained under Ren. Ren had chosen Kirin when he was only six summers in age. Out of a thousand young boys clamoring to be a Devari, he had been selected. Yet, even with an arbiter for a grandfather and a blademaster as a mentor, Kirin felt a failure. Info Pile-Up: Too much info starting to pile up.
Kirin, the boy who had been given everything, meant to rise above all the rest, was... overwhelmingly ordinary. With all that promise draped on his shoulders, Kirin felt like he was never enough. Weaker than most, clumsier with the blade, and slower to learn the complicated forms that all Devari knew. Only his ki, his power of empathy, showed promise. Even that was temperamental and wild as a spark-storm.
But today would be different. Pacing Break: A massive break in the action that can definitely be cut in favour of pacing and limiting exposition until after the reader is hooked.
Kirin's grip tightened on his blade until it shook. Unbeknownst to his master, Kirin had been practicing day and night with the ki, learning to temper its wild nature. It was the one quality Devari most coveted, and his ki was strong, if only he could focus. If he could do that, Kirin could predict his master's moves before they happened. Fight Intrigue: Great intrigue and goal within the fight scene.
Today was that day. Kirin would win and prove himself worthy. Repetition: Two sentences that repeat what's been stated prior. Only one is needed. Or both can be combined.
Kirin raced forward, ducking, dodging and slicing Ren's blade, then clashing once more in a parry. "Again?" Ren asked, holding steel to steel. "This didn't work out well for you last time, my young apprentice. You should know never to do the same thing twice."
Kirin ignored him. This is it, he thought. This is my chance. While they locked swords, Kirin reached out with the ki. The ki was an invisible tendril, a feeler that sifted into Ren's head, searching for a crack in his master's armor. As soon as he touched Ren's mind, he felt a wall, waiting like a centaur at the entrance to a maze. He feared Ren's mind. That same wall always waited, impenetrable as once-Yronia, fortress of metal. Unnecessary Worldbuilding: Unnecessary and distracting piece of worldbuilding. Normally, Kirin would retreat at this point. But this is what he had trained for, and he attacked.
Ren's eyes tapered through their crossed swords, as if he sensed Kirin was up to something. Kirin, however, kept his ki small, like a ferreting mouse, when —
He sensed it. A small crevice in the back of Ren's mind. He pressed forward, slipping into the cleft in his thoughts and —
FEAR. Tension Snap: Excellent sentence structuring to build tension and let it snap on a broken sentence. Powerful and unyielding the emotion washed over Kirin. It punched the air from his lungs and his stomach churned as if it were about to vomit. He felt it all as if it were his own fear.
Before him, Ren flexed, pressing against the parry and Kirin was flung backwards. Distracted from the fear, Kirin instinctively rolled to absorb the fall, then lay panting. His mind felt aflame. The fear. Light and heavens, it had been so powerful. It all happened so quickly. Perhaps a few breaths, no more. Kirin gained his feet shakily. "What was that?"
Ren arched a brow. "What was what?"
"I... sensed something. What're you hiding?" Kirin asked. Dialogue Tag: Unnecessary dialogue tag. "It felt... dark."
Ren glowered. "You used the ki on me?" Those pale blue eyes became daggers. "You shouldn't have done that."
"I... I was only looking to sense your next move, I didn't mean to pry. Besides, you always say to use all the tools at my disposal." Kirin rubbed his neck self-consciously as Ren's gaze continued to bore into him. Name Repetition: Sentences starting with Kirin's name are getting repetitive. Devari weren't supposed to use their ki against one another. The invasion was an affront.
"My thoughts are my own." Slowly, Ren's dark expression softened, dropping his mantle as Leader of the Devari, and becoming the friend and mentor he knew. "Relax, boy. I'm impressed. You've gotten better. Much better. Training sessions with Forgha and Maerus? Those two," he gave his wry smirk, "they have been hounding to see you beat me! Ha! Tell me, are they here? With the antics those two get up to, I wouldn't doubt if half the Devari are hiding nearby, waiting to see the outcome of this battle," he said, looking about the empty ramparts. "Well, am I right?"
But Kirin wasn't deterred by Ren's attempt to divert his line of questioning. "Ren, what're you hiding? What was that feeling?" Kirin asked again. Dialogue Tag: Another unnecessary dialogue tag. He shivered, and despite the rising desert heat, he wanted to throw on a heavy woolen cloak. Clutching his chest, Kirin whispered, "It felt... old. Ancient even. It felt like death." Those words. Ancient. Death. They seemed to click together like missing puzzle pieces, fitting just right with the rumors that had been circulating through the city. "It's true then, isn't it? They're back..."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't try to protect me. They're back, aren't they?"
Ren sighed then turned, putting his hands on the rampart's stone crenelation. He gazed out over the bailey's walls. Over the courtyards where neophytes trained below, tossing magical balls of fire, water, or one of the other six elements. Guards clanged, sparring in the first bouts of the day. "False Returns come and go like the desert winds, Kirin. As Devari, we are to be above such superstitions."
"But you've heard something, haven't you?"
"Rumors are rumors, Kirin."
"You're avoiding the question."
Ren turned on him. "And you're avoiding their name. Say their name, lad. Only a fool fears a name."
Kirin stammered, "I can't... No one can. We're not allowed to."
"Then I'll say it for you."
"Don't —"
"— Ronin," Ren said.
Kirin's breath caught. Subtext & Tension: Love this piece of dialogue. Great subtext and distinct emotions shown through their words and structure to build that tension and snap it again on a broken sentence.
He peered around. The rampart was empty, and he breathed a sigh. They were alone. Yet to speak their name aloud was a crime punishable by death. The offense mostly went overlooked nowadays. It had been a thousand years since the supposed 'death' of the legends who nearly broke the world. Now only backwater towns or supremely righteous cities like Covai or Taer still enforced the archaic decree. Distracting Names: More meaningless location names that feel distracting.
Still, its utterance coincided with strange occurrences. Men went missing. Women had stillbirths. Food spoiled. Many equated it to superstition, to happenstance, but Kirin wasn't so sure. He had heard a fruit seller say the word once loudly in a crowded marketplace, and the next day his wares had turned up rotten, larvae spilling out of dark eldermelons and limfuns. Still the fruit-seller had scoffed, repeating the forbidden word. The next week, the man had been found dead in the heart of the bazaar. No visible wound. Just dead. As if struck down. Kirin could still remember the stink of his body, foul and putrid as if it had been rotting in the hot sun, the swarm of black flies covering him from head to toe. Overlong Paragraph: This paragraph drags on a little too long, though its message builds intrigue.
Master's words snapped his trance, returning him to the moment, but his stomach still curdled from the memory, "It's only you and me up here, Kirin. Awkward Structure: Awkward sentence structure. And as for your question, I've outlasted a hundred false returns, each one more absurd than the last. Though a false return is nothing to smile about. Each causes its share of chaos. I've seen hangings, riots, even full-scale wars at the hands of a false return."
"I'm not asking about rumors," Kirin persisted. "Though I have heard them all... whispers that the elven prophet is on her deathbed, that the Patriarch is to decree this coming as a True Return, that Ester and Meneleas are shutting their doors to outsiders completely" Missing Context: Meaningless information that doesn't have context yet.
"Esterians have always been a foolish, superstitious lot, and Menelians follow on their heels like trotting dogs," Ren said contemptuously. "And I don't know what you've been hearing, but the Patriarch has uttered no such thing."
Kirin continued undaunted. "All of Farhaven's magical creatures are fleeing to their sanctuaries, Ren. The whole Citadel is in an uproar. Things I'd have to be blind to miss. I'm not asking if something is happening. I know something is happening. I'm asking what you think."
Ren turned away. He was silent so long Kirin didn't think he was going to answer. At last, he spoke in a troubled voice, "This time, something does seem different. I feel there is a deadly sliver of truth within the rumors. After two thousand years, I fear the Return has come."
The Return... The phrase alone was terrifying. Demigods that had almost destroyed the world. "Two thousand years the Ronin have been gone from this world. Why now?"
"I don't know," Ren said quietly. Dialogue Tag: 'Said quietly' can be replaced by a better dialogue tag.
"The Gates separate Farhaven from Daerval and the Ronin have never crossed the Gates, right, Ren?" Overdone Worldbuilding: More overdone worldbuilding, though this one is clearer than previous exposition but still takes a second to decipher.
Ren put his hand on Kirin's shoulder. "Farhaven is safe, lad. Don't you worry. Come now, the day is young and we've much training to do. You do still want to become a Devari, do you not?"
"More than anything."
"Well then, come and hit me already. Prove your mettle."
Kirin charged with a fierce cry. After a flurry of strikes, feints, parries, and evasions, Kirin risked it. Beat Count: A nit-pick, but three beats is better than four in terms of flow. "After a flurry of strikes, parries and evasion, Kirin risked it." He knew the only way he would win is if he could sense his master's lightning-fast moves before they came.
So he reached out with the ki once more. Again, he was met with an emotionless wall, but he searched, hunting for that same crack when —
He found it. He entered Ren's mind. The overwhelming fear that would buckle any normal man waited, but he went beyond that, into the man's limbs. He sensed it. Block, parry, riposte. It was a dance that Ren knew to his soul and was performing instinctually. But now, Kirin could anticipate the man's dance.
There —
As Ren stepped forward, Kirin felt the man's muscles tense, readying for another cut. With one arm, Ren sliced. Yet this time, Kirin knew exactly where the blade was coming and he ducked beneath it. Just enough. Slipping the dulled training sword so slightly, he felt it clipping hairs on the top of his head. Physical Nitpick: Another nit-pick, but you wouldn't feel your hair getting clipped by a lightning-fast cut. With the extra time it afforded, his sword was already moving, and he sliced for Ren's now exposed legs. Elation lanced through him. Ren had lost. He would pull the training sword in a moment and proclaim victory.
Abruptly, Kirin saw Ren's other hand. The hand not touching the blade. His master had only had one hand on his sword. Why? No... He realized, watching as Ren's other hand smacked a block of stone on the rampart's wall.
Immediately, a sphere of dark purple appeared from thin air, hovering between them. The liquid darkness swiftly expanded. It touched Kirin's outstretched arm and he recoiled, but it was no use. His muscles twitched as if suffocated in stone. The darkness slid over him like a second skin.
The world turned black as night.
Kirin felt weightless, falling. Strong Ending: Good ending that'll make readers turn to the next chapter.
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In novice writing, dialogue often flows like a tennis match: Character A speaks, Character B responds to exactly what was said, then Character A replies. Real verbal conflict doesn’t work this way; people constantly ignore prompts, redirect momentum, or play psychological defense.
The Lesson: When writing a confrontation, have a character entirely bypass their opponent's direct question and instead attack the motive behind the question. This forces the perspective character to double down, heightening the tension.
The Evidence:
"What're you hiding? What was that feeling?" Kirin asked again.
Ren sighed then turned... "False Returns come and go like the desert winds, Kirin..."
"But you've heard something, haven't you?"
"Rumors are rumors, Kirin."
"You're avoiding the question."
Ren never answers. He deflates Kirin’s momentum by treating the core subject as a mere "superstition," forcing Kirin to fight just to keep the conversation on track.
How it works here: We see him dragging his boots, keeping his hands out of his pockets, staring at Master Maeser’s boots, and slinking away to a deserted clock tower. Later, his frustration with his father's legacy is literally shown when he sees the sword roughly etched with his name as an afterthought over his father’s.
The Lesson: Look for the physical manifestations of your character's emotional state.
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Writers often struggle to transition a scene from intense, angry conflict back into a quiet, emotional moment without it feeling jarring or unearned. The secret is the "Affront Pivot"—having one character overstep a deeply ingrained cultural boundary, causing a sudden freeze that shatters the argument and forces an honest reset.
The Lesson: To break a circular argument between two characters who love each other, have the protagonist accidentally violate a sacred taboo or boundary. The sudden, chilling realization of what they've done forces both characters to drop their defensive masks.
The Evidence: Kirin and Ren are snapping back and forth until Ren realizes Kirin invaded his mind. The text explicitly flags the shift: "Devari weren't supposed to use their ki against one another. The invasion was an affront." It’s this exact violation that clears the air—Ren’s pale blue eyes become daggers, the petty bickering stops instantly, and it forces a raw, honest conversation about the returning Ronin.
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When a character experiences sudden, overwhelming trauma or panic, your sentence structures need to psychologically break down alongside their mental state. Smooth, elegant, multi-clause prose destroys the realism of a panic response.
The Lesson: When a character is hit with sudden shock, pull them out of the narrative flow by dropping a massive, single-word abstract noun in all-caps, followed by short, fragmented, breathless sentences that mimic a physical gasp.
The Evidence: The exact moment the mental backlash hits Kirin, the prose structure ruptures:
“...and —
FEAR. Powerful and unyielding the emotion washed over Kirin. It punched the air from his lungs and his stomach churned... The fear. Light and heavens, it had been so powerful.”
The sudden capital letters, the broken dash, and the fragmented repetition of "The fear" perfectly mimic the erratic rhythm of a mind scrambling to regain control.
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