This is the first couple of Paragraphs of my novel!
Please I would love feedback!
I enjoy writing but haven't yet recived any feedback on my book so please be nice to me and give me your opinion!
I am willing to take peoples opinions and suggestions into consideration during editing so Please comment!


The wind howls loudly through the tree branches sending a chill up trills spine, he sits at the foot of an old hollow tree his knees pulled up to his chin.
Goosebumps prickle over his bare, he stares at a long cut running from the knuckle on his index finger all the way to his elbow, blood still glistens freshly on the skin.
In the distance over the howl of the wind Trill can hear his pursues calling him, taunting him.
Anger burns in his throat, all his life Trill had been bullied, but lately it seemed only to be getting worse.
At sixteen years old trill was the youngest boy in his training class and also the smallest, a fact that no one let him forget, he was a decent build considering his small size, his hair was cut short and a deep reddish brown in color, his eyes were a deep emerald green , as green as deep lush jungle, he had a healthy tanned complexion that matched his eyes perfectly, a rather handsome young man by any standards, but Tinerians being a large race can overlook all this and dwell on the simple fact that he was short, an unforgivable crime in Tinerian society, and the fact that he was a little slow with his studies didn’t help matters much either.
But neither being short or slow were the real reasons that the other youth’s picked on him, the real reason was to do with who his mother was Thylet Silverroot, the former lover of Domanian Gleewell, the source of all evil, or so the history books claimed.
Everyone knew that Domanian wasn’t trill’s father but they still teased him that he was.
The truth was that no one knew who Trill’s father was, that was something only his Mother knew and she wasn’t in any state of mind to tell him.
Trill was an only child and had never once had any friends, he’d been a loner his entire life, even the instructors at the pre-training hall tried to ignore him.
Trill was one of the few Tinerians alive that were gifted with Grass magic, the power to shape plants. Nature magic was becoming a rarity these days, and requires a lot of training to control, but no one had ever even offered to give trill any, so this meant that his powers were starting to fully develop and he had absolutely no control over them, anything green he touched went crazy either growing at rapid, uncontrollable speed or shriveling up and dying, he’d been banned from the Horticulture department almost five years earlier.
About the only plants trill could touch without fear of corrupting it were the Hollow trees on the eastern beach front, so understandingly this is where Trill spent most of his time, trying to study and catch up on his endless flow of punishment essays.
Today there had been a welcoming committee waiting for his a small group of fire mages who seemed to hate him practically more than everyone else.
They’d been only to happy to demonstrate the level of control they had over their powers by slicing a deep cut into the flesh on trill’s left arm, with a impressive blade of fire, a technique the bullies seemed very proud of.
Trill had managed to escape when the plant life around him sprung to life to protect him, a skill he had no control over, but was very grateful to have.
After breaking the bullies grip Trill had fled deep into the Hollow forest and found a hiding place at the foot of the oldest of the Hollow trees, deep under the cover of the tallest tree, and well out of the way of the Fire bullies.
He blows on the painful cut hopeing to cool the burning sensation racing through his flesh.
Trill often sat in this spot nursing his wounds; long ago he’d hidden a well stocked first aid kit underneath the hollow tree’s large roots.
He now pulls it out and fishes around for the burn-heal medicine. After lathering the clear white cream into the wound he opens his satchel and pulls out the first of a long list of essays to be completed before the next morning.
Although trill new he’d never have a hope of finding a Binary partner, he was still forced to attend pre-training with all the other youths.
He was bottom of his class and the most picked on youth at the training hall, no one wanted anything to do with him unless it was to use him to practice their magic on.
There were lots of elemental mages, healers, and Shapers at the Pre-training hall but Trill was the only Grass mage.
While the text books stated that this was a gift the other students made Trill feel that it was a curse.
He hated it, he wished with all his being that it would just go away; he wanted to be one of those few youths that had no powers at all, to not have to worry about being punished for being unable to control his gift.
The Instructors accused trill of being lazy, told him that others had learned to control their gifts unaided, so therefore he should be able to as well.
That’s all fine in them, Trill thought, but none of the other student’s powers were even half as strong as his.
Trill scribbles down the answers as best he can, but finds the cut on his arm to painful, and saying that the fire mages did it wouldn’t work the injury didn’t look like it had been caused by fire, somehow it would be his fault and him simply trying to seek attention, and tarnish perfectly decent student’s good names.
Trill hisses against the cold and the pain, it was getting late and the evening chill was starting to set in, trill hadn’t thought to bring a sweater with him, he hadn’t intended to be out so late, but with the fire mages still out looking for him, he had no choice in the matter.