I am looking for reader feedback. This is a rough draft scene from a fantasy story that I'm working on, Think fairy tale meets Naruto. A young girl is ostracized by her community because of who her father is, people treat her like she's responsible for his crimes. This is playing on the orphan trope and chosen one trope, so tell me what you think of this scene so far. Obviously just a rough draft, haven't settled on the names or the rest of the scene but this is an idea that has been in my head all night and this is what I have fleshed out. Writing a scene in the middle of the book before you even have a solid outline is what the cool authors do. This is obviously a work in progress
Anyway, this is meant to be like a mockarov mentor style speech. Let me know what you think so far and would you read this book?
The old wizard stood by the window of Sabrina and Sarah's room, hands folded behind his back. The glow of the setting sun caught the edges of his worn cloak, casting long streaks of gold across the stone floor. Sabrina stood a few paces away, her head bowed, her fingers twisting nervously at the hem of her sleeve.
He spoke softly, his voice carrying the kind of calm that only comes from a lifetime of loss.
Old Wizard: “It’s not about you, Sabrina. People’s actions… they’re reflections of who they are, not your worth. When someone disrespects you, misunderstands you, or turns away, it doesn’t define you. It only shows the battles they carry inside.”
He turned toward her, his eyes kind but serious.
“Most people act from wounds they haven’t healed, fears they haven’t faced, lessons they’re still learning. Sometimes, you’re simply standing in the path of their storm. It feels personal, as if the world chose you to break, but really, you’re just caught in someone else’s weather.”
He walked closer, the sound of his boots echoing softly.
“The truth is, many will fear you because of who your father was. Their anger, their suspicion, it isn’t about you. It’s about the ghosts they still fight from his shadow. People are quick to protect their peace by casting others as villains. It’s easier to condemn than to confront their own cruelty. It’s easier to label a child than face the shame of having treated her unfairly.”
Sabrina looked up at him, pain flickering behind her eyes. He rested a hand on her shoulder.
“But listen well: true strength isn’t measured by the power of your magic, or the number of battles you win. True strength is built within, in the silence between your thoughts, in the way you speak to yourself when no one’s watching. It’s the courage to keep showing up with love in your heart, even when love isn’t returned.”
He stepped past her, looking out the window again.
“The moment you whisper to yourself, ‘This isn’t mine to carry,’ something shifts. You stop letting their chaos dictate your calm. You stop letting their story overwrite yours.”
“If you stay true,” he continued, “if you keep walking forward with compassion and patience, you’ll create a kind of dissonance in their minds, a crack in their certainty. Every act of grace, every day you choose light over resentment, you’ll challenge their narrative until they’re forced to see the truth for themselves.”
He let the silence hang for a moment, then spoke again, quieter now.
“It doesn’t matter who was right, or who won. Peace isn’t found in victory; it’s found in release. Let them walk in your shadow while you walk in your light. Let go of the need to be understood. As long as you understand yourself, the rest will follow.”
The old wizard turned to face Sabrina, his expression soft.
“We are different people in the eyes of others, a hero in one story, a villain in another. Each of us lives bound by our own awareness, and we call that reality. But one person’s reality can be another’s illusion. We all live inside the worlds we build in our minds, clinging to what feels true because the alternative scares us.”
He gave a small, weary smile.
“Sometimes we protect our stories to survive. Sometimes we call others ‘unsafe’ because honesty terrifies us. Maybe that’s human nature. Maybe we’re all a little afraid. And maybe we’re all still learning, learning how to tell the truth, to others and to ourselves.”
He began to walk away, his voice fading like the last light of the sunset.
“Remember this: there’s nothing worse than seeing life only through your own eyes. Each of us carries battles, reasons, and pain that others cannot see. Different thoughts aren’t wrong thoughts. They are different lives, different hearts, different ways of surviving this world. Before you judge or dismiss someone, try to see beyond your perspective. Understand yourself first, and you will begin to understand others.”
He paused at the doorway, looking back at her with a faint smile.
“That, Sabrina, is the path to true strength, not the kind that conquers, but the kind that endures.”
---
Tears ran down Sabrina’s face as she watched the master’s figure fade into the darkness. She was overwhelmed and confused. She had spent her whole life being hated by everybody, being told she shouldn’t be allowed to practice magic. But every member of this guild treated her like she was family.
She had been denied from every other magical guild, but for some reason, the top guild in the country had accepted her because she saved the life of one of its members.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to sleeping in a bed,” she said as she jumped onto it.
“Here’s a pillow, Sabi,” Sarah said, tossing one at her before she could react.
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to sleep on the floor tonight,” Sabrina replied.
Sarah looked at her, puzzled.
“I don’t have enough money to buy a hammock yet,” Sabrina said softly.
Sarah burst out laughing. With a wave of her hand, a green magic circle appeared around the bed. With a snap of her fingers, the bed transformed into a hammock. She waved her other arm, bringing four teacups over and turning them into anchor points, securing them into the studs.
“This is a magic school, kiddo. I use Maker Magic.”
Sabrina instantly lunged at Sarah, hugging her tightly and breaking her focus. As soon as she lost concentration, the hammock collapsed on top of them, knocking them to the floor.
“Thank you,” Sabrina whispered as tears welled up again.
“We gotta make sure you’re well rested,” Sarah said with a nervous laugh as she reactivated her magic. “After all, you’ll be meeting Irza tomorrow.”
Writing With Devin J Parker
Writing With Devin J Parker
I am looking for reader feedback.
This is a rough draft scene from a fantasy story that I'm working on, Think fairy tale meets Naruto.
A young girl is ostracized by her community because of who her father is, people treat her like she's responsible for his crimes.
This is playing on the orphan trope and chosen one trope, so tell me what you think of this scene so far. Obviously just a rough draft, haven't settled on the names or the rest of the scene but this is an idea that has been in my head all night and this is what I have fleshed out. Writing a scene in the middle of the book before you even have a solid outline is what the cool authors do. This is obviously a work in progress
Anyway, this is meant to be like a mockarov mentor style speech. Let me know what you think so far and would you read this book?
The old wizard stood by the window of Sabrina and Sarah's room, hands folded behind his back. The glow of the setting sun caught the edges of his worn cloak, casting long streaks of gold across the stone floor. Sabrina stood a few paces away, her head bowed, her fingers twisting nervously at the hem of her sleeve.
He spoke softly, his voice carrying the kind of calm that only comes from a lifetime of loss.
Old Wizard:
“It’s not about you, Sabrina. People’s actions… they’re reflections of who they are, not your worth. When someone disrespects you, misunderstands you, or turns away, it doesn’t define you. It only shows the battles they carry inside.”
He turned toward her, his eyes kind but serious.
“Most people act from wounds they haven’t healed, fears they haven’t faced, lessons they’re still learning. Sometimes, you’re simply standing in the path of their storm. It feels personal, as if the world chose you to break, but really, you’re just caught in someone else’s weather.”
He walked closer, the sound of his boots echoing softly.
“The truth is, many will fear you because of who your father was. Their anger, their suspicion, it isn’t about you. It’s about the ghosts they still fight from his shadow. People are quick to protect their peace by casting others as villains. It’s easier to condemn than to confront their own cruelty. It’s easier to label a child than face the shame of having treated her unfairly.”
Sabrina looked up at him, pain flickering behind her eyes. He rested a hand on her shoulder.
“But listen well: true strength isn’t measured by the power of your magic, or the number of battles you win. True strength is built within, in the silence between your thoughts, in the way you speak to yourself when no one’s watching. It’s the courage to keep showing up with love in your heart, even when love isn’t returned.”
He stepped past her, looking out the window again.
“The moment you whisper to yourself, ‘This isn’t mine to carry,’ something shifts. You stop letting their chaos dictate your calm. You stop letting their story overwrite yours.”
“If you stay true,” he continued, “if you keep walking forward with compassion and patience, you’ll create a kind of dissonance in their minds, a crack in their certainty. Every act of grace, every day you choose light over resentment, you’ll challenge their narrative until they’re forced to see the truth for themselves.”
He let the silence hang for a moment, then spoke again, quieter now.
“It doesn’t matter who was right, or who won. Peace isn’t found in victory; it’s found in release. Let them walk in your shadow while you walk in your light. Let go of the need to be understood. As long as you understand yourself, the rest will follow.”
The old wizard turned to face Sabrina, his expression soft.
“We are different people in the eyes of others, a hero in one story, a villain in another. Each of us lives bound by our own awareness, and we call that reality. But one person’s reality can be another’s illusion. We all live inside the worlds we build in our minds, clinging to what feels true because the alternative scares us.”
He gave a small, weary smile.
“Sometimes we protect our stories to survive. Sometimes we call others ‘unsafe’ because honesty terrifies us. Maybe that’s human nature. Maybe we’re all a little afraid. And maybe we’re all still learning, learning how to tell the truth, to others and to ourselves.”
He began to walk away, his voice fading like the last light of the sunset.
“Remember this: there’s nothing worse than seeing life only through your own eyes. Each of us carries battles, reasons, and pain that others cannot see. Different thoughts aren’t wrong thoughts. They are different lives, different hearts, different ways of surviving this world. Before you judge or dismiss someone, try to see beyond your perspective. Understand yourself first, and you will begin to understand others.”
He paused at the doorway, looking back at her with a faint smile.
“That, Sabrina, is the path to true strength, not the kind that conquers, but the kind that endures.”
---
Tears ran down Sabrina’s face as she watched the master’s figure fade into the darkness. She was overwhelmed and confused. She had spent her whole life being hated by everybody, being told she shouldn’t be allowed to practice magic. But every member of this guild treated her like she was family.
She had been denied from every other magical guild, but for some reason, the top guild in the country had accepted her because she saved the life of one of its members.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to sleeping in a bed,” she said as she jumped onto it.
“Here’s a pillow, Sabi,” Sarah said, tossing one at her before she could react.
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to sleep on the floor tonight,” Sabrina replied.
Sarah looked at her, puzzled.
“I don’t have enough money to buy a hammock yet,” Sabrina said softly.
Sarah burst out laughing. With a wave of her hand, a green magic circle appeared around the bed. With a snap of her fingers, the bed transformed into a hammock. She waved her other arm, bringing four teacups over and turning them into anchor points, securing them into the studs.
“This is a magic school, kiddo. I use Maker Magic.”
Sabrina instantly lunged at Sarah, hugging her tightly and breaking her focus. As soon as she lost concentration, the hammock collapsed on top of them, knocking them to the floor.
“Thank you,” Sabrina whispered as tears welled up again.
“We gotta make sure you’re well rested,” Sarah said with a nervous laugh as she reactivated her magic. “After all, you’ll be meeting Irza tomorrow.”
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Writing With Devin J Parker
My book is free today!
www.amazon.ca/Theyre-Better-Off-Without-Me-ebook/d…
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Writing With Devin J Parker
Hey everyone! Tell me how your writing is going! ✍️ 📖
If you’re a reader, what are you currently reading?
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