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@claire-h

First off – that’s a pretty darn good excerpt. I can see you’ve studied well the art of evocative prose. I don’t know if I’ve seen your fantasy stuff on Story Embers just yet, but now I’m all the more interested in reading the rest. Also – that’s a darn good description for Amara. That helps a lot with making her look and feel different than her twin.

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It’s been heckin’ weird writing Myrrha from a technical and from an emotional standpoint. Not just being able to read minds, but having to listen to them all the time whether she wants to or not? It really changes her perspective, her narrative sections, and her dialogue. BUT before I get carried away dribbling about that nonsense…

I’ve always imagined her hair as a deep, rich hue of copper. That would probably be the color she would aim to maintain once she enters Kyreleis’ service (and develops her infatuation with Erhard), as it’s the most natural looking color. Vanity / wanting to be beautiful (huge self-esteem issues) is kind of a sticky point for her character.

 

Eyes –

Another tricky bit! So, her irises have a naturally yellow-gold color, like those of a bird of prey, with larger-than-usual pupils. When channeling her powers, her pupils shrink and her irises glow. However, there’s another I guess “spirit” haunting Myrrha, which she calls the Hunger. When Myrrha gives into the Hunger’s temptations – that is, to abuse her powers to kill or enslave – her eyes turn black as pitch, starting in the center and working across the whites in smoky tendrils.

 

Y’know what, here’s an example of channeling vs temptation:

Channeling

Myrrha leapt to her feet just as Agnes and the women pulled away the window coverings, silhouetting her in dazzling moonlight. She flailed as Hans loosed his bow, crying out in pain as the quarrel pierced clear through her left shoulder. At the spark of pain a wreath of flaming rage swirled around her as a wind of hope lifted her floating into the air, lighting arcs crackling between her horns and her golden eyes shining down burning beams on their terrified mortal faces as they beheld her – devil or divine, goddess or martyr – whatever she chose, it would be hers.

 

Temptation

“I…” Myrrha caught herself for a moment, staring into Heino’s quivering eyes. In the firelit reflection of those bloodied pupils, she saw a monster – a slavering beast empty of soul and ravenous to the depths of its bowels, desperate to be filled. Repulsive. Unholy. Herself…

Myrrha groaned, her eyes dimming as they filled with tendrils of inky blackness, swallowing up her golden eyes in blackest pitch. Her eyes rolled and her jaw stretched wide in agonized, ecstatic anticipation, bearing forth a guttural moan:

“I Hunger…”

 

Not as much for hard physical description I gather, but hopefully it helps get the feeling across.