Here's my very first chapter of From Stone to Man, the prologue really. I was not entirely sure how I was gonna make Heero being made from stone work but I've figured a way. Hopefully it'll make everything a bit easier to write. About the danger part of the summary, I've decided to veto it until further notice. If there is any danger it'll be from a jealous suitor or rival. Then again, I just might be original and make it someone else. That's usually the case and I don't want it to be like that for me.
Before I start, I want to say thank you to the only five who reviewed my summary. I expect to see review from you in the future as proof of your enjoyment. Please feel free to critique my writing. I would love to have your opinions. That goes for all my reviewers.
From Stone to Man
by: Lilaclight
The Myth
The are many myths and legends in our world. News ones, old ones and most astounding of all ancient ones which have been forgotten in the endless passage of time. One such myth was known to many tribes in the days of an age older than the Egyptians, older than the Greeks and Romans.
It spoke of the power given to sculptors. They were considered blessed by the Gods and held a feared power for it could mean life or a damned afterlife, even death sometimes. Only the most skilled sculptors held this power, many of which were women. This was because they could carve exact images of people or animals out of stone or wood down to the last wrinkle or placement of fur.
Having a second image in the world was a dangerous thing. It became connected to one in the forbidden way and the destruction of that image by a novice would bring death unto the model. Only the one who created could safely destroy without harming the subject. It was also known that the death of the subject before the destruction of the image would lead to the soul being confused and entering the image's body only to be trapped until the creator freed it by destroying the one thing holding it back from Nirvana. (the afterlife)
An even rarer talent was the power to bring forth life from the sculptures, one that occurred but once yet lived in memory. If the image is done to perfection, although no one was sure exactly what perfection was, to life the carved image would come. It was assumed that the image was a replica of someone long gone and that it called their soul to the false body, whence it is made truth by the light of a full moon. Others thought that it was a mimic of the way life had been formed, the creation of the body, then at a special time when the planets align a soul would be created and breathe life into the body and a new mortal would be born. None ever knew for sure.
Millenniums passed and the myth was forgotten by most except the most stubborn and oldest of tribes who passed their knowledge to their youth who in turn passed their knowledge to the newer tribes. Alas even that did not last as the New Age began, wiping out all those tribes except the strongest. Many of the ancient legends, the enchanting and wondrous myths lay forgotten. Never again had a sculptor held such importance until the art became world renown for the pleasure it gave an observer.
The power remained lost, forgotten and then one fateful day, it was awakened unknowingly in a young but passionate sculptress who held the favor of the Gods.
It sucks big time, I know but at least it explains things a little. I'm just hoping that I can carry this story off. Please review and tell me what you think. I need the input badly. The next chapter, well don't expect anything soon. I'm concentrating on An Unlikely Bond. My work on Truth of Cosmos will be done tonight. I figure I might as well give you people what you want. Hope you're enjoying your holiday.
Ja ne.