My name is Gamefreak. This is my first fanfic ever submitted, and I want HONEST feedback and reviews. Be specific in your recommendations. Please.
I updated my story because it has so many obvious mistakes. Please, PLEASE review.
This is basically a death-fic of Tethys's life during the war of the stones. Rated T for descriptive violence. No sex, no swearing, no shonen. That crap makes me want to barf.
Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem or anything related. Too bad.
Dance
Chapter One: Tethys
The woman saw the bolt of darkness coming, but it was too late. Pain erupted from the woman's every pore, and a feeling of pure evil coursed through her fragile, petite body, driving her to her knees. Immediately, a chant ending with the word "mend" could be heard over the repugnant din of battle, and the shrill death-dry of gorgons as their blood pored into the magma-filled crevices of Mount Neleras.
"Lute, thank you for that. Shadowshot can take a lot out of you," thanked the woman.
The powerful Mage Knight answered, "It was wonderful to be of assistance to you, Lady Tethys. Would you please dance for me? Lord Ephraim and Lady Eirika want these gorgon eggs destroyed as soon as possible,"
"Gladly," replied Tethys. She conjured the memories of the dancer she had seen and looked up to in her youth, and began a dance. This particular dance was a tribute to the horrors and tragedy of war. As she danced, she thought of the wound she had received. Normally, Ewan and Gerik would have abandoned their tasks and ran halfway across the battlefield to protect her if she ever got so much as a paper cut. She told herself it was utterly ridiculous and quite silly, but in truth she was unused to people really and truly caring about her. After being abandoned by her own parents… her thoughts were interrupted as a gargoyle thrust a marred zanbatou (1) at her neck. She simply leaned over slightly, avoiding the weapon easily, and the monster was crushed under the frozen might of Lute's Fimbulvetr. Nearby, a ceasing of the constant purple flashes of Fenrir signaled that Ewan's units had finished off their group of eggs. The lack of homicidal gargoyles showed that Joshua, Gerik and Artur had succeeded in their assignment. Franz and Kyle were traveling all over the mountains, throwing the carcasses of baby gorgons over the cliff, where they were consumed by the same molten Hell they so longed to create. Blood literally flowed through the mountains, giving the area a rancid scent that could put a dog in a coma. Tethys turned her head in disgust, but all she saw was more blood, more gore, more corpses. War was … most unpleasant. Tethys felt sick. At least none of her comrades had died.
And that's my story. As I said before, please review. I won't update if I don't get any reviews. On a side note, this is the first of about seven chapters.
(1) By zanbatou, I mean the long staff with a blade for slashing at the end.