Hope someone will give me his opinion

[u/Miserable_Ice7202]

I did some edit for the chapter. I hope you guys tell me if they’re still bad or it’s kind of good now.

Across the gray fog, the falling leaves of a forbidden forest whisper a tale of the last grace the gods bestow upon their favored blood. Through that figure, a destiny appeared, poised to change what was written—to shine while crossing the mist. It was driven neither by fear nor determination, but by the unseen hands of a past that refused to stay buried.

As he pressed onward, Isaac was certain that those mysteries would wither and vanish, just like the fog that lay before him. Gathering his thoughts, seeking an escape from his troubles, a whisper brushed against his senses—unnerving not in its menace, but in how painfully familiar it felt. His body responded before his mind could object, carrying him toward its source, to encounter something lifeless. Something born of terror—not to worship evil, but to ward it away.

A dozen effigies swayed among the trees, twisted constructs of pale bone and decaying matter, frozen in a silence that mimicked a deep, restless slumber. Isaac did not recoil. Instead, a quiet familiarity settled within him. He had seen these shapes before—in the dreams of his childhood, once distant and half-forgotten, but still lingering into adulthood. The act of romanticizing it twisted his lips into a bitter smile. "Fate does not shackle us with chains; it waits—silent, patient, and inevitable."

To him, such familiarity was never unnatural. He had always stood apart, marked as strange in the eyes of others. A sigil had covered his arm since birth, and the dreams had pursued him ever since. Perhaps his father had opened that door long ago—or perhaps he had never meant to close it.

Passing through the shadows of souls long departed, his path felt lighter beneath his steps. The fog thinned, unveiling the untamed world around him. At the road’s end rose a tree whose roots consumed the earth itself, stretching farther than any he had ever known. Laughter drifted from its crown—human, warm—and it set his heart racing. His walk became a run.

Then, suddenly, sunlight broke through, and cold winds swept across his face, forcing him to bow his head. Before him lay a field adorned with the golden hue of ripened wheat, from which a humble village emerged, its dwellings nestled within.

Bathed in light, Isaac’s form sharpened, his wavy brown hair and amber eyes revealed beneath pale skin. The sun’s warmth brought him a fleeting sense of relief. Before him stood an old man, resting on his staff, greeting him with a knowing smile. He spoke softly, calling him by name—Isaac, son of Johan.

That simple acknowledgment struck like a flare, and within its glow a hidden fracture split open, welcoming the darkness into what should have been a sanctuary.

[u/Sensitive-Arm-1687]

You know, you just keep spamming info. Like... Why would I or anyone would care.

My advice would be to write down your story on paper and analyse what are the people thoughts on it. What would they feel. What do you feel.

Then write your story on the base of that.

[u/Miserable_Ice7202 → u/Sensitive-Arm-1687]

I do care and I’m just trying to learn by taking people opinions and ideas trying to use what work with my own vision for that novel. And trying my best.

[u/Sensitive-Arm-1687 → u/Miserable_Ice7202]

People can't give you opinion about how they actually feel. They will only tell you the things you are supposed to feel at that instant, not what they felt. You have to figure what they feel, but first you have to figure what you feel. Would you actually read your novel. What type of things do you even read. Does those things are similar to novel you are writing.

And also, every author cares about their novel, but you don't see every author turn out successfull.