Challenge #1: I can see.

This is my entry. I hope you enjoy it!




I can see.


This fact, first and foremost, has been the driving force of my life.

From the moment I first opened my eyes, I was fascinated by what I saw, and I sought to experience as much as I could. I would spend hours in forests, examining, cataloguing, and simply being there, for the sheer joy of it. I would see the textures, the colours, the grass beneath my feet, and I would be content.

I sit now in a foreign place, and a place so familiar I could scream. A room with walls as white as death, as smooth as silk, as hard as metal, and just as unforgiving.

I sit on the ground, wet from dew. I sit in a house, the walls patchwork and forgotten, a derelict remembrance to a society long dead. I am under an open sky, under a roof, in a box ? my body screams for sustenance, but I know not which surface to touch.

I used to know. There was a time when I could tell fact from fiction, but I am not as sure as I once was.


I see many things, and I am less for the watching.


I have been told to tell my story, to speak of that which I see, but there is so much? I could hardly condense it to make any single thing understand. Perhaps, as a hive or a group, you could. Combine your intellects, pool your resources. For you do not want to live as I do, with everything and nothing cornered into one small mind, and forgotten.

I am never truly alone, and I crave that aloneness like nothing else. But there is no reprieve from this sight, and even with two eyes less I would still see.

I have been told to tell my story, and so I will. I have no choice; there is little else to do but watch. And I am so tired of watching.

Listen now, and let me share my breath ? whatever it inhabits ? and live my life momentarily, as I live so many others?.

I was never strong, nor fast, but I had an intelligence which frightened some. I look back and wonder if I was truly that intelligent, or if it was simply that my poor village friends were simply naïve or untutored. I am still not sure. But I was respected for my intelligence, even when I was young.

As I grew, I developed abilities ? sorcerous abilities, and I left my village in order to more fully understand and control those manifestations. I believed it was the right thing to do ? the intelligent thing to do, and so I left all that I had known, and stepped out into a world of danger and opportunity. Yet despite my fear, I could do no wrong as I traveled, and my heart and power grew with each step and challenge.


Now, each day is a challenge. My gaze drifts to a small flower in a meadow, and I cannot be sure it truly exists. I have long since lost the ability to determine imagination from reality, and while I am aware of my sanity, I am not far from that endless void called madness.


Many of the challenges I faced during that time in my life were emotional. I learnt more in that period of time than I had in the seventeen years beforehand, and the wild had an effect on me I had never anticipated. I grew less fond of cities, and tended towards nature; something I had not done since childhood.

I came upon the Cowled Wizards and, intrigued by their study of magic, soon joined them in their quest for knowledge. They drew me into their paradigm of books and obsession, and logic became a friend to me, rather than a simple confusion.

I look back, and find I have few regrets from that time- I am unique in that, I think. While I may lament what I have become, I am an only ? an individual, with a talent no other being has. I know not why I even bother to write this ? none will understand what it is like. But I try ? vainly, perhaps. If only to clear my head.

During my time with the Cowled Wizards I began to look into exactly what made magic work, and took a particular interest in magic that came from the soul, as I believed mine did. I soon attempted to set aside my powers and confine them, in order to more closely understand them: a mistake few make, and even fewer survive, but I did. And somehow, at some level of consciousness, I now wish I had not.

Now, I see beyond, around, above, and through; I see the future, the past, the present ? the presence of those who cannot be! And there is more than one ?now?; think of the endless possibilities, the stretching and pulling of the weave as each thread separates into two, thinner than the last, and unrenewed.

My thread was frayed, almost destroyed due to my insistent hunt, and I grew tired ? careless. My magic, broken and bruised from its ordeals, escaped its holdings, and turned to that which had originally confined it.

This paper is difficult to write on ? it is not enough to hold what I want to say, all that I have to tell. I can only touch upon the merest fraction of my life using a pen, with two dimensions and no expressions, emotions, or feelings. No amount of words could describe or convey what I see ? I live in images, colours, expressions? and this paper exists in only one place, in monochrome, and I see straight through it. There would hardly be a point if it were not for distraction.

The magic, having escaped, turned to me, turned to my eyes ? I wanted to see, to know, to understand, and so I began to. My gaze saw through worlds, and that immensity frightened me, at first. I shied back, but gradually grew intrigued by what I saw. There were places I had not seen, places I had not been ? places I did not know existed, and they were ripe for the exploring.

I sought ways to travel to them, to move from plane to plane without interference, but each time I found a way it was closed. Perhaps it was my punishment, but for what, I never found out ? and I believe I never will.

As time went on my vision expanded, and I gained the ability to control how and where I saw, something I would give dearly to have once again. But I grew arrogant, and was persuaded to push my limits by the beguiling words of disgusting man ? a Cowled Wizard, now dead. It was he who sent me to live in this place, this ?Spellhold?; to suffer as I have here. He died in a manner befitting of that crime.

I went beyond my limits. I tested them, pushed, probed, and finally threw my entire self in the struggle to see more. I saw too much, and can never go back.


There are things I have experienced which none will know, or could know ? I have laughed at things so ridiculous I could hardly believe them, and cried at the spawnings of demons. I have felt and experienced everything, and I miss nothing. Awake or asleep I am alive- and so I see.


He was a friend, one I had grown to trust in my months in Amn. He wasn?t powerful, but he was clever; not half as clever as myself, but still one of the bright minds of our year. He was the sort who could survive everything life threw at him ? everything but the dagger which I threw. He did not survive that.

His name is not worthy of mentioning, but he was a traitor, and he died as one. It was fitting.

I sit now in this room, and am forced to watch the entire universe survive. Some would kill to have this ?gift? of sight? but I would kill to be rid of it. It is a curse, and I am not blessed to endure it ? I have not the strength. But I have no choice.

I know things which no humanoid of the Prime knows.

I sit now, in a room with walls as bleached as bone, with paper as transient as the wind below my shaking pen, and contemplate the meaning of this task. Who will read my story? Who will care?

And in this immense universe which I see, nobody knows I exist - and I know I will never be free.

I always thought that she was an interesting character.

I really like how you expanded on her personality, gave her a backstory

Edited by Riviera, 11 May 2007 - 05:49 AM.

Oh, yes. Completely forgot to respond to this.

As you see (if you read chapter 2) I have a little different take on Aphril. That said this is still really cool, and it inspired me to actually get mine going again, as I was having some down time.

On the piece, good grammar and such. Yes, really excellent.

Thank you! This version of Aphril is well before she really begins to go insane - but it is inevitable, and she sort of knows that.

I did read your one, Kellen - it was fantastic; you captured her perfectly. I just loved it - when I have time, I'll give a more in-depth post.

I forgot to mention, but critique would be greatly appreciated - I'm constantly looking to improve, so any suggestions or comments would be fantastic.

Hmm, I can try to give you a piece by piece critique, but right now I'm in a tad bit of a hurry. But later if you want.

This is my entry. I hope you enjoy it!

I did!

I can see.

A good start. Simple and direct, and it draws one in, forcing them to ask why those are the first words written.

This fact, first and foremost, has been the driving force of my life.

And this sentence just helps. Why is seeing significant. I'm not sure if it was purposeful, but there was 2 empty lines between these two, rather than the usual one. Assuming it's undesired, I will be noting those spots where you have it. If it is desired, ignore those notes.

From the moment I first opened my eyes, I was fascinated by what I saw, and I sought to experience as much as I could. I would spend hours in forests, examining, cataloguing, and simply being there, for the sheer joy of it. I would see the textures, the colours, the grass beneath my feet, and I would be content.

British English? Cataloguing and colours, hehe. I love honour in British English. It just seems more proper to me. Don't expect me to fetch any spelling mistakes.

I sit now in a foreign place, and a place so familiar I could scream. A room with walls as white as death, as smooth as silk, as hard as metal, and just as unforgiving.

I sit on the ground, wet from dew. I sit in a house, the walls patchwork and forgotten, a derelict remembrance to a society long dead. I am under an open sky, under a roof, in a box ? my body screams for sustenance, but I know not which surface to touch.

I love these paragraphs. Everywhere and everywhen... Contradictory for us ordinary folk, but for her, everywhere and everywhen.

I used to know. There was a time when I could tell fact from fiction, but I am not as sure as I once was.


I see many things, and I am less for the watching.


I have been told to tell my story, to speak of that which I see, but there is so much? I could hardly condense it to make any single thing understand. Perhaps, as a hive or a group, you could. Combine your intellects, pool your resources. For you do not want to live as I do, with everything and nothing cornered into one small mind, and forgotten.

Two empty lines in both breaks. By "any single thing understand", I assume you mean "single being understand", not "single thing understood." For me it was slightly unclear with that sentence, and I had to reread it before continuing, at which point it became clear.

I am never truly alone, and I crave that aloneness like nothing else. But there is no reprieve from this sight, and even with two eyes less I would still see.

And most want company. But truly, it makes sense.

I have been told to tell my story, and so I will. I have no choice; there is little else to do but watch. And I am so tired of watching.

Listen now, and let me share my breath ? whatever it inhabits ? and live my life momentarily, as I live so many others?.

So now we watch and listen. So many first person entries in this challenge. Over half. One third person, and one only dialog.

I was never strong, nor fast, but I had an intelligence which frightened some. I look back and wonder if I was truly that intelligent, or if it was simply that my poor village friends were simply naïve or untutored. I am still not sure. But I was respected for my intelligence, even when I was young.

You have one too many simplys in the second sentence. Someone going the extra mile, ï.

As I grew, I developed abilities ? sorcerous abilities, and I left my village in order to more fully understand and control those manifestations. I believed it was the right thing to do ? the intelligent thing to do, and so I left all that I had known, and stepped out into a world of danger and opportunity. Yet despite my fear, I could do no wrong as I traveled, and my heart and power grew with each step and challenge.

Now, each day is a challenge. My gaze drifts to a small flower in a meadow, and I cannot be sure it truly exists. I have long since lost the ability to determine imagination from reality, and while I am aware of my sanity, I am not far from that endless void called madness.

Two empty lines. Isn't each day a challenge for an adventurer, particularly of good caliber. Perhaps each moment?

Am I the only one who imagines her tearing here?

Many of the challenges I faced during that time in my life were emotional. I learnt more in that period of time than I had in the seventeen years beforehand, and the wild had an effect on me I had never anticipated. I grew less fond of cities, and tended towards nature; something I had not done since childhood.

Two empty lines. 17 years before. She became an adventurer at 17?

I came upon the Cowled Wizards and, intrigued by their study of magic, soon joined them in their quest for knowledge. They drew me into their paradigm of books and obsession, and logic became a friend to me, rather than a simple confusion.

I look back, and find I have few regrets from that time- I am unique in that, I think. While I may lament what I have become, I am an only ? an individual, with a talent no other being has. I know not why I even bother to write this ? none will understand what it is like. But I try ? vainly, perhaps. If only to clear my head.

I am an only, a good use of words, if a slight bit confusing at a first look.

During my time with the Cowled Wizards I began to look into exactly what made magic work, and took a particular interest in magic that came from the soul, as I believed mine did. I soon attempted to set aside my powers and confine them, in order to more closely understand them: a mistake few make, and even fewer survive, but I did. And somehow, at some level of consciousness, I now wish I had not.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Now, I see beyond, around, above, and through; I see the future, the past, the present ? the presence of those who cannot be! And there is more than one ?now?; think of the endless possibilities, the stretching and pulling of the weave as each thread separates into two, thinner than the last, and unrenewed.

Quite disconcerting.

My thread was frayed, almost destroyed due to my insistent hunt, and I grew tired ? careless. My magic, broken and bruised from its ordeals, escaped its holdings, and turned to that which had originally confined it.

Which is never good.

This paper is difficult to write on ? it is not enough to hold what I want to say, all that I have to tell. I can only touch upon the merest fraction of my life using a pen, with two dimensions and no expressions, emotions, or feelings. No amount of words could describe or convey what I see ? I live in images, colours, expressions? and this paper exists in only one place, in monochrome, and I see straight through it. There would hardly be a point if it were not for distraction.

Aye, it would suck for the writing; "Oops, I wrote there already."

The magic, having escaped, turned to me, turned to my eyes ? I wanted to see, to know, to understand, and so I began to. My gaze saw through worlds, and that immensity frightened me, at first. I shied back, but gradually grew intrigued by what I saw. There were places I had not seen, places I had not been ? places I did not know existed, and they were ripe for the exploring.

I'm not sure the second hyphen is needed; a comma would work just as well. And again curiosity...

I sought ways to travel to them, to move from plane to plane without interference, but each time I found a way it was closed. Perhaps it was my punishment, but for what, I never found out ? and I believe I never will.

As time went on my vision expanded, and I gained the ability to control how and where I saw, something I would give dearly to have once again. But I grew arrogant, and was persuaded to push my limits by the beguiling words of disgusting man ? a Cowled Wizard, now dead. It was he who sent me to live in this place, this ?Spellhold?; to suffer as I have here. He died in a manner befitting of that crime.

After Spellhold I believe it should be a comma, not a semi-colon.

I went beyond my limits. I tested them, pushed, probed, and finally threw my entire self in the struggle to see more. I saw too much, and can never go back.


There are things I have experienced which none will know, or could know ? I have laughed at things so ridiculous I could hardly believe them, and cried at the spawnings of demons. I have felt and experienced everything, and I miss nothing. Awake or asleep I am alive- and so I see.

Two empty lines. What use are eyelids when you can see through the planes?

He was a friend, one I had grown to trust in my months in Amn. He wasn?t powerful, but he was clever; not half as clever as myself, but still one of the bright minds of our year. He was the sort who could survive everything life threw at him ? everything but the dagger which I threw. He did not survive that.

His name is not worthy of mentioning, but he was a traitor, and he died as one. It was fitting.

Also two lines. Wow. Revenge is... well I hear bittersweet; thoughts?

I sit now in this room, and am forced to watch the entire universe survive. Some would kill to have this ?gift? of sight? but I would kill to be rid of it. It is a curse, and I am not blessed to endure it ? I have not the strength. But I have no choice.

I know things which no humanoid of the Prime knows.

I sit now, in a room with walls as bleached as bone, with paper as transient as the wind below my shaking pen, and contemplate the meaning of this task. Who will read my story? Who will care?

I will

And in this immense universe which I see, nobody knows I exist - and I know I will never be free.

Very good, Kae. It gets sadder when you read it slower.

One thing I did notice, you used hyphens often, even when I'm sure simple commas would have sufficed. Not sure.

But overall, very, very good.

I like the backstory you gave Aphril, too.

Gooood... why don't you write more ff?

Gooood... why don't you write more ff?

I second the notion!

Right. Bed. Good. G'night.

Well, there are few blank spots in my knowledge, and I am aware of them, but...

And in this immense universe which I see, nobody knows I exist - and I know I will never be free.

She should continue with one line; "Until the moment I die." Or would she still be prisoned...

Much as I would love to write more fanfiction, the simple fact is that I don't really have the time for it. I really put some concerted effort in to get this written and done, because I love to write (and this was a great opportunity to write about a character I adored!), but it's not likely to happen terribly often. Usually I spend my relatively small amounts of truly free time modding or catching up with people.

Thank you so much to all of you for putting in the time to read this, and especially to Kellen for the in depth review and critique - it's so great to read!

The extra linespace between some sections was to separate them slightly; I'm not sure if it had the desired effect, so maybe something to leave out next time.

I tend to write in Australian English, which is quite similar to British English. I also have a fondness for hyphens, and probably do use them too much, yeah. Noted!

Everywhen has to be one of my favourite terms; I found it in David Eddings' 'Redemption of Althalus', and grew quite fond of it. In retrospect, I wish I had have worked it in, but I'm glad the idea gets across without it.

wo empty lines in both breaks. By "any single thing understand", I assume you mean "single being understand", not "single thing understood." For me it was slightly unclear with that sentence, and I had to reread it before continuing, at which point it became clear.

Any single being understand, yeah. I thought about that, glad you mentioned it.

I am never truly alone, and I crave that aloneness like nothing else. But there is no reprieve from this sight, and even with two eyes less I would still see.

And most want company. But truly, it makes sense.

I think that second line is my favourite line in the entire piece. I'm glad it makes sense. One thing I was worried about was that what I had in my head might not have been translated terribly well to text (which is partially what gave me the inspiration for those lines, the other part going by the name of SConrad), so I'm happy it worked.

You have one too many simplys in the second sentence. Someone going the extra mile, ï. biggrin.gif

Didn't notice that! Thanks Actually, Word did that for me... it *is* useful for some things!

Two empty lines. Isn't each day a challenge for an adventurer, particularly of good caliber. Perhaps each moment?

Am I the only one who imagines her tearing here?

Should have been each moment, great call. And no, you're not... but I don't think she would cry. She'd dash it away angrily before anyone noticed. *grins*

Two empty lines. 17 years before. She became an adventurer at 17?

Yep. What she didn't mention was that she was pretty much driven out of her village. She didn't just leave to learn more, she left because she was pretty much forced by a combination of fear and restlessness. My Aphril is really quite arrogant, something which drove her on throughout her life - the idea that she was better, she could BE better, though she blames it on others. And as you know, it didn't serve her terribly well in the end. She learnt humility.

I'm not sure the second hyphen is needed; a comma would work just as well. And again curiosity...

After Spellhold I believe it should be a comma, not a semi-colon.

Agreed, on both points. And yes, curiosity killed the cat, indeed...

Also two lines. Wow. Revenge is... well I hear bittersweet; thoughts?

Oh, yes. Aphril was not in her right mind when she killed him. It was, I think, the point at which she snapped. She has no remorse for what she did - she's proud of it, in fact. What he did to her was unforgiveable. As she said - he deserved his death, stabbed (in the back, in case you were wondering).

crying.gif crying.gif

Very good, Kae. It gets sadder when you read it slower. crying.gif

One thing I did notice, you used hyphens often, even when I'm sure simple commas would have sufficed. Not sure.

But overall, very, very good. sad.gif

Thank youuu! I'm glad it had the desired effects... As soon as I have the chance, I'll give you a proper 'review' of Dread and Despair (can't wait for the next installment, btw... ).

She should continue with one line; "Until the moment I die." Or would she still be prisoned... whistling.gif

I decided not to do that - I think it's just a little bit trite. I can't imagine her, as a character, being that dramatic. She's stating what she sees as a fact, and to add 'til the moment I die' would somehow trivialise that, by adding what she would see as unecessary drama.

I... may have put a fair amount of thought into her character. *coughs*

Once again - thanks, all!

This was started, then moved to word and finished a few hours later, sorry for any oddness because of it.

Much as I would love to write more fanfiction, the simple fact is that I don't really have the time for it. I really put some concerted effort in to get this written and done, because I love to write (and this was a great opportunity to write about a character I adored!), but it's not likely to happen terribly often. Usually I spend my relatively small amounts of truly free time modding or catching up with people.

I know how that feels.

More often though I just feel bored by everything. Peh. Hate those times.

Thank you so much to all of you for putting in the time to read this, and especially to Kellen for the in depth review and critique - it's so great to read!

The extra linespace between some sections was to separate them slightly; I'm not sure if it had the desired effect, so maybe something to leave out next time.

I'd guessed, but since I wasn't sure... And yeah, you're welcome for the depth review.

I tend to write in Australian English, which is quite similar to British English. I also have a fondness for hyphens, and probably do use them too much, yeah. Noted!

Everywhen has to be one of my favourite terms; I found it in David Eddings' 'Redemption of Althalus', and grew quite fond of it. In retrospect, I wish I had have worked it in, but I'm glad the idea gets across without it.

Everywhen is fantastic, even if not a real word. But yeah, Aphril uses it so.

David Eddings is also good. I read through the Belgariad, and started the Mallorean Think I was on Demon Lord Of Kiranda. Need to continue those?

Any single being understand, yeah. I thought about that, glad you mentioned it.

I think that second line is my favourite line in the entire piece. I'm glad it makes sense. One thing I was worried about was that what I had in my head might not have been translated terribly well to text (which is partially what gave me the inspiration for those lines, the other part going by the name of SConrad), so I'm happy it worked.

Did you remember your daily dosage of SConrad for inspiration today, dears?

Didn't notice that! Thanks Actually, Word did that for me... it *is* useful for some things!

Aye, just noticed word did it for me while writing Chapter 3.

Me writing something about Naive? NO WAI!

Should have been each moment, great call. And no, you're not... but I don't think she would cry. She'd dash it away angrily before anyone noticed. *grins*

Ah, but ?nobody knows [she] exist[s]? But yeah. I still can see your Aphril doing that. Character interpretation is a wonderful thing, yes?

Yep. What she didn't mention was that she was pretty much driven out of her village. She didn't just leave to learn more, she left because she was pretty much forced by a combination of fear and restlessness. My Aphril is really quite arrogant, something which drove her on throughout her life - the idea that she was better, she could BE better, though she blames it on others. And as you know, it didn't serve her terribly well in the end. She learnt humility.

Well you can see a bit about my take on Aphril, and how it differs, but that's the beauty of little characters, so much room for Fanfic, artistic license.

Oh, yes. Aphril was not in her right mind when she killed him. It was, I think, the point at which she snapped. She has no remorse for what she did - she's proud of it, in fact. What he did to her was unforgiveable. As she said - he deserved his death, stabbed (in the back, in case you were wondering).

I thought she threw the dagger?

Thank youuu! I'm glad it had the desired effects... As soon as I have the chance, I'll give you a proper 'review' of Dread and Despair (can't wait for the next installment, btw... ).

Ooh! *Rubs hands together* I can?t wait.

I... may have put a fair amount of thought into her character. *coughs*

But she?s just such an interesting character! Yeah, I think I?m guilty as you, my friend.

Once again - thanks, all!

Your welcome. And thank you for sharing.

Edited by Kellen, 15 May 2007 - 11:35 AM.

I was in a bit of a hurry when I wrote that - she did throw it at his back, yeah. I knew what I wanted to say, the words just didn't come out properly... Thanks!

And no problem... I just hope I can 'share' more in future!

I was in a bit of a hurry when I wrote that - she did throw it at his back, yeah. I knew what I wanted to say, the words just didn't come out properly... Thanks!

And no problem... I just hope I can 'share' more in future!

So do I! This was wonderfully written, Kae. Sorry I don't have time to do an in-depth construction here, but because Aphril was a character who I always thought as having been born with that particular gift/curse, this was incredibly interesting. And nice work, especially, on weaving that wonderful sense of helplessness and resignation through the entire piece; it really made it haunting.