Our first example comes from @eNVy :
A distant mewl brings the shadowed man to the tent where a crying baby is held by his dead mother. "This child has the fire in him,"Âť the man thought to himself as he tore back the rigor mortised fingers grasping the child's body. As he lifted the boy aloft, like he was offering him up to the condemnatory sky, the ethereal power in the air coalesced and formed the words: HARK! He would be God if it were not for me.
The world had long since been marred by the conflicts of men, and longer since by demons, and even longer since by God. But this story takes place in a different time, in a different world, ruled by a different power.
"Neshamah is the breath of life. Like this flame in my hand, it flows peacefully never touching or burning, but without control, it can ravage in pure destruction."Âť
The man speaking was well built and well dressed, sporting a white stitched shirt tucked into black pants. Holding out his hand a small candle-like flame sprouted out an inch above a black dot centered in his palm. On his wrist, a blue band lay tattooed on his skin marking him in exile of his tribe.
The boy crouched by the fire and watched him.
"You are to be King of the Left, Cormac."Âť
The man pauses.
"As such, you will inherit your forefather's Idol."Âť
The boy, Cormac McCarthy, age of fourteen years, was the third born to Lord Charon Rimini McCarthy King of the Left. On the night of his birth, the Lyranids fell from the night sky marking the birth of the next Vessel for Dante God of fire, as it had done for every generation before.
"I get it Mr. Montag, learn to control and shape your Neshamah or it will only hurt you."Âť
"Alright Cormac, that's all for today,"Âť said Montag as he snuffed out the flame in his hand "let's meet with your brothers and head for the Immolationer's Tribunal."Âť
As the two headed out of the cave they often enjoyed training in, the full view of the kingdom came into view basked in the morning light. Wheatfields watered by farmers coalescing the water from thin air, stone houses being erected from the ground by masons, all of this merging into great spires on which groups of men sit atop driving away the morning clouds. Further in and further up sits a large castle nestled on the back of a gigantic stone figure akin to Atlas, who was built to resemble Dante the God of fire and Protector of the Left.
A distant mewl brings the shadowed man to the tent where a crying baby is held by his dead mother.
A distant cry pulled the shadowy man to the tent, where a dead woman clutched a still-living baby.
Fixed sentence tense, changed to active voice.
"This child has the fire in him,"Âť the man thought to himself as he tore back the rigor mortised fingers grasping the child's body.
When he tore her stiffened fingers away from the boy, he sensed that the child was burning with arcane energy.
“Rigor mortis” is a modern technical term and does not fit with the setting.
As he lifted the boy aloft, like he was offering him up to the condemnatory sky, the ethereal power in the air coalesced and formed the words: HARK! He would be God if it were not for me.
As he lifted the boy aloft like he was offering him to the sky, the air thickened and the universe seemed to nod.
This seems to be a serious work, and words appearing in the air are verging on the ridiculous.
The world had long since been marred by the conflicts of men, and longer since by demons, and even longer since by God.
The world has long suffered the conflicts of men, demons, and gods.
Fixed for consistency. Now it is not “God”, “demons”, and “the conflicts of men”, but “the conflicts of God”, “the conflicts of demons”, and “the conflicts of men”.
But this story takes place in a different time, in a different world, ruled by a different power.
But this story takes place in a different time.
Sometimes brevity hits harder.
"Neshamah is the breath of life. Like this flame in my hand, it flows peacefully never touching or burning, but without control, it can ravage in pure destruction."Âť
The man speaking was well built and well dressed, sporting a white stitched shirt tucked into black pants. Holding out his hand a small candle-like flame sprouted out an inch above a black dot centered in his palm. On his wrist, a blue band lay tattooed on his skin marking him in exile of his tribe.
The boy crouched by the fire and watched him.
“Neshamah is the breath of life,” the big man said. He held out his hand and a flame appeared. “Like this fire in my hand, it flows peacefully, never touching or burning. But without control it can turn into destruction.”
The boy crouched by the fire and watched. He could see the black dot in the man's palm, and also the blue band tattooed around his wrist, marking him as an exile.
Cut out excessive description and reshuffled the details for better flow.
"You are to be King of the Left, Cormac."Âť
The man pauses.
"As such, you will inherit your forefather's Idol."Âť
“You are to be King of the Left, Cormac,” the man said. He paused. “As such, you will inherit your forefathers' Idol.”
Fixed tense. Shortened pause.
The boy, Cormac McCarthy, age of fourteen years, was the third born to Lord Charon Rimini McCarthy King of the Left.
Cormac, aged fourteen, was the third child of Lord Charon Rimini, King of the Left.
Jodo is assuming that the names are merely placeholders and that the writer has not actually named his protagonist after famous author Cormac McCarthy.
On the night of his birth, the Lyranids fell from the night sky marking the birth of the next Vessel for Dante God of fire, as it had done for every generation before.
On the night of his birth the Lyrans fell from the sky as they had done for every generation, marking the arrival of the fire god's latest vessel.
“Lyranids” is too close to “Tyranids” for comfort and so is “Dante, god of fire.” Recommend changing them. Also cut out a few redundancies, such as “night sky” when “night of his birth” already signaled that it was night.
"I get it Mr. Montag, learn to control and shape your Neshamah or it will only hurt you."Âť
“I understand, sir,” he said. “I must learn to control and shape my Neshamah or it will hurt me.”
“Get it” is too modern and so is “mister.”
"Alright Cormac, that's all for today,"Âť said Montag as he snuffed out the flame in his hand "let's meet with your brothers and head for the Immolationer's Tribunal."Âť
The man snuffed out the flame in his hand. “All right, that's it for today. Let's meet with your brothers and head for the Immolationer's Tribunal.”
Did the writer just name a character with fire powers “Montag”? The reference is a little too on-the-nose.
As the two headed out of the cave they often enjoyed training in, the full view of the kingdom came into view basked in the morning light.
The two headed out of the mountain cave they often trained in. They blinked in the morning light as the kingdom came into view.
Added the “mountain” detail to clarify their perspective. Rephrased it so there were no longer two instances of “view” in one sentence.
Wheatfields watered by farmers coalescing the water from thin air, stone houses being erected from the ground by masons, all of this merging into great spires on which groups of men sit atop driving away the morning clouds.
Cormac could see fields of wheat tended by farmers, who waved their arms as they condensed water out of the air. Closer to the mountain he saw a team of masons pulling a house out of the ground. Other men sat atop great spires and worked to drive away the morning clouds.
This sentence needed unpacking to give it a more sweeping feel. In the original line everything was happening too close together.
Further in and further up sits a large castle nestled on the back of a gigantic stone figure akin to Atlas, who was built to resemble Dante the God of fire and Protector of the Left.
Closer still lay a castle, which rested on the back of a figure carved out of the mountain. This was the famous state of Dante, God of Fire and Protector of the Left.
Removed the “Atlas” reference, given that this setting does not seem to be on Earth.
A distant cry pulled the shadowy man to the tent, where a dead woman clutched a still-living baby. When he tore her stiffened fingers away from the boy, he sensed that the child was burning with arcane energy. As he lifted the boy aloft like he was offering him to the sky, the air thickened and the universe seemed to nod.
The world has long suffered the conflicts of men, demons, and gods. But this story takes place in a different time.
“Neshamah is the breath of life,” the big man said. He held out his hand and a flame appeared. “Like this fire in my hand, it flows peacefully, never touching or burning. But without control it can turn into destruction.”
The boy crouched by the fire and watched. He could see the black dot in the man's palm, and also the blue band tattooed around his wrist, marking him as an exile.
“You are to be King of the Left, Cormac,” the man said. He paused. “As such, you will inherit your forefathers' Idol.”
Cormac, aged fourteen, was the third child of Lord Charon Rimini, King of the Left. On the night of his birth the Lyrans fell from the sky as they had done for every generation, marking the arrival of the fire god's latest vessel.
“I understand, sir,” he said. “I must learn to control and shape my Neshamah or it will hurt me.”
The man snuffed out the flame in his hand. “All right, that's it for today. Let's meet with your brothers and head for the Immolationer's Tribunal.”
The two headed out of the mountain cave they often trained in. They blinked in the morning light as the kingdom came into view. Cormac could see fields of wheat tended by farmers, who waved their arms as they condensed water out of the air. Closer to the mountain he saw a team of masons pulling a house out of the ground. Other men sat atop great spires and worked to drive away the morning clouds. Closer still lay a castle, which rested on the back of a figure carved out of the mountain. This was the famous state of Dante, God of Fire and Protector of the Left.
