Critique an excerpt [High Fantasy political thriller, 557]
Below is the first paragraphs of the first chapter of my 200,000 high fantasy political thriller about a boy (the POV in this chapter) dealing with a dark legacy and facing the difficulties of leadership. I'll link the whole chapter below if I manage to hook anyone. This is one of my final drafts, and my first time asking for feedback from random people on the internet lol. Be brutally honest in your feedback and critique, and I'll leave comments open on the google doc.
Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read even just a sliver of my novel!
Edit: I also put my prologue in here earlier today if anyone wants to read an excerpt of that
Chapter 1:
The prince swung under the lightning sword. He lifted his sparring staff in front of the flinging lightning, blocking it from a complete rotation. Max smiled at his opponent, Vahid Mussad. Max did not have a power, only a runed staff, yet fighting against people with powers still came easy.
Vahid stepped back and swung his lightning sword again. Max, holding the end of the staff with one hand, ducked and smacked it against Vahid’s ankle. He exclaimed, leaning to clutch his leg and stumbling backward. His lightning sword dissipated. Max took this as a surrender.
“You’ve gotten better,” Max said. Vahid glared at him. Vahid was a prince as well, one who had been touched-by-lightning and sent to Max’s home, the Stormhold. The capital of the Lightning Faction and home of the Morlocks.
“Shut up, Morlock,” Vahid grumbled, as unfriendly as ever. “You’ve had all this time to train with other lightnings. I got stuck with people who had rock hands.”
Max shook his head, setting down his sparring staff. “Not my fault you were stuck in your slum of a castle.”
Vahid shouted and stood, a bolt of lightning emerging from his palm. Now he’s trying to kill me, Max thought, smiling. Good. More of a challenge. He stepped on the end of his staff, flinging it into his hands. He brought the staff forward, discarding the bright bolt into the dirt of the training grounds. Vahid pounced, a blazing blue sword in each of his hands.
Max grasped his staff with both hands and brought it over his head. Only one of Vahid’s swords clashed with it, while the other jabbed under it. Max rotated his staff, causing the colliding sword to scrape against it and send sparks into the dirt. The other sword skidded against the wooden staff as Max blocked its jab.
Max expected Vahid to fold at this point, given his arm twisted, but he stood his ground. He was a Mussad after all, the ruling family of the Earth Faction. Vahid spun, his swords blurring as they swung. Max stepped back, glancing around for spectators. Of course, there were many. All the other boys who were training watched in awe. Packs of young noblewoman stood by the black pillars, gawking at Prince Maxwell.
This time, both of Vahid’s swords slammed onto Max’s sparring staff. This was no fluid motion, or swift manuever, but a strike of raw strength. Max faltered backward, stopping himself with his foot. Vahid may not have been as deft as Max, but he was strong. Max saw his muscles bulging in the blue haze.
“Mussad,” a familiar voice said. Vahid lifted his weight from Max and looked at the speaker. “Don’t you have some goats to fuck, Mussad?”
Max and the speaker, his brother Aaryn, both laughed along with the crowd of onlookers. As the tension eased and Vahid stepped away from Max, the training grounds went back to their bustling, ignorant manner and the spectators dispersed into the black castle. Max was able to take a deep breath of the light, flowery air.
“Father says we are going on a hunting trip,” Aaryn said, approaching Max as Vahid stormed off. “Best start getting yourself ready. Father wouldn’t want his perfect heir to miss it.” Aaryn shot a glare at Vahid and strode towards the stables.
Link to the full chapter: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1b1o1ZadG1DXLEqwCfzyNnn7FXFFHwfn5mhJBnCJPrc8/edit?usp=sharing