Critque, Editing and Rating, please! (Still without a name)

[aliasJaneDoe]

Okay, I want honest critique, none of that, "Oh yeah, it's really good, I like it," then turning around and coughing and gagging.

And even if you do like it, refrain from commenting unless you also have a suggesion on how to make it better.

SO... this is a segment from a story I'm writing about two people who are locked in a cell in the dark for a very long time. If I get good fedback on this part I'll probably post a few other parts as well. (And the actual plotline is hopefully better than I just made it sound.) So here goes...

Cyrîe couldn’t see. She needed light to see and she had none, presently. It hadn’t truly occurred to her – without the knowledge of experience – that darkness, like that of night, was the absence of light. Not the opposite, merely the total absence. Nothing itself had a new power in her eyes. It was that special kind of darkness, where it is so dark your eyes see shapes and things that aren’t there; shadows of a brighter time. There was no relief from it. It was totally still, unchanging, even as she closed her eyes and patterns danced across her eyelids.

She could hear, though. Shǽl was here, somewhere. Not too close, but not on the other side of the cell. She could hear him moving, even; if she listened closely enough. She could hear the scrape of his hand across the stone wall. She was fairly certain it was stone, and the sole door was durasteel.

“Why do you suppose they put us down here?” Cyrîe said quietly. They hadn’t spoken much since being in this cell. There wasn’t much to discuss, truthfully, and Cyrîe was uncomfortable with doing so anyway.

“I mean,” Cyrîe added at the silence. “Here, specifically.”

“To weaken us, perhaps,” Shǽl offered at last. His voice seemed unusually rich in tone, but she suspected it was simply something she had never noticed before. Not that she had known him that long, but still… She hadn’t realized how much she depended on slight visual cues to read him – or anyone for that matter. He had an expressive voice; all minute changes that told how he felt.

Instead of speaking, she sat down against a wall and briefly put her face in her hands, then smoothed back her hair, which was a mess, since it had already fallen out of the tight, intricate bun. Her thick skirts rustled with every move she made, almost sounding like whispers.

She could hear Shǽl walking, investigating every square inch of the cell. Cyrîe had arrived first, and had done a cursory, cautious exploration. Four walls, a slightly uneven floor, and a few rocks she had tripped over.

“Why the darkness?” she asked suddenly.

Shǽl said nothing for a moment. “Perhaps because we aren’t psychologically prepared for it.”

Cyrîe turned in the direction of his voice. “Then they are fools.”

“I hope so,” he said, with an edge of uncertainty. It was like a rasp lying over the depth in his voice.

Cyrîe sighed and shivered, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

After a long time Shǽl finally sat down. He sat near Cyrîe, but not touching; she could hear his breathing. His steady breathing slowed and deepened, and Cyrîe wondered if he was sleeping.

They waited for something to happen as time dragged on, staring out into the darkness as if they would, at some point, see something.

((Sorry that was so disgustingly long...))  

[Ixcilia]

I think you have a great style of writing. I'd like to read other parts so I could see more plotline development.  

[Kitsune Voss]

Honestly it seems a little wordy to me. A lot of extraneous words and overly formal speech. It makes your writing feel forced. Try to write in a more natural voice. other than that it seems good.  

[Aranka Taine]

I enjoyed this piece, though I agree, in some places it was a bit wordy (I write the same way, though). Specifically, the beginning:

aliasJaneDoe

Cyrîe couldn’t see. She needed light to see and she had none, presently. It hadn’t truly occurred to her – without the knowledge of experience – that darkness, like that of night, was the absence of light. Not the opposite, merely the total absence. Nothing itself had a new power in her eyes. It was that special kind of darkness, where it is so dark your eyes see shapes and things that aren’t there; shadows of a brighter time. There was no relief from it. It was totally still, unchanging, even as she closed her eyes and patterns danced across her eyelids.

"She needed light to see and she had none, presently.", for example, seems a bit unnecessary, as most people need light to see. While stating the obvious can sometimes be useful in writing, here, it just doesn't seem to belong.

" – without the knowledge of experience – " is another seemingly unnecessary line. You might, as a writer, have had a reason to put this here, but I as a reader don't really see the point (do clarify, of course, if there is).

I enjoyed the rest of the paragraph, but removing a few of the lines would, I feel, streamline the entire piece nicely.

And I apologize if this seems too nitpicky, but I like editing. ^^;

Overall, though, I've become very interested. I'd like to know who the two characters are, what their relationship is, etc. I also love the name "Shael." ~_^  

[Arachnakid]

On a completely unrelated note, please don't put it in bold; it's really eyeball-bending.

Other than that, some parts are rather long-winded, but you make a lot of the same mistakes I do in my own writing. It's a good start, although a story like this will become very tense very quickly: not something for the "casual" reader. I love the name "Shæl" (I tend to pronounce it "SHAY-uhl").