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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

A Journey of sorts...


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Like every other morning so far, he woke up to a midday sun. Stretching and yawning, he pulled himself out of bed. It was still hard to believe he was here. Looking out his window, he could see the walls of The Mighty Pen keep. It filled him with a sense of pride, and honour. He was among some of the best. The elite. And those who would be. Poets and bards, warriors and sorcerers alike. People from all across the world of many talents and skills. All in his backyard. Or rather, he was in their yard. Still, there was something missing. Among all these great people, he felt like he was lacking. Perhaps it was talent, perhaps it was knowledge. Or maybe it was something else. He shrugged it off as he slid a light shirt over his shoulders. That was all to change today. Today was the day that he started his journey of enlightenment. He hoped that by the time he was done he could call himself worthy. He hoped that when he was done, he could call himself one of the elite, even though such things didn't matter around this place, he just felt it was something he needed to do. If not for anyone else, but for himself. As he packed up a few minor things: an oil lamp with a few extra flasks of oil, light provisions and a blanket to wrap it all up in; he set to writing a note for his comrades. He left it on the kitchen counter in a rare display of masterful penmanship as he bounded out the front door. He grabbed a loose vine and swung to the ground in quiet grace. Walking at a moderate pace, he took in the beautiful weather and made his way directly to the front outside doors of the keep. Taking in a deep breath, he took in all he could see of The Mighty Pen and bravely strode forward- back inside. Just like he had done on his first day, he looked around in wonder at the majesty of the keep. This time however, he knew where he was going. He passed through the Tavern of the Quill, and made his way directly to the Library. It was here were his Journey started. It wouldn't pass either, not until he had read every single volume that the massive shelves held. He would start with History, he decided, so he could learn about the earliest events possible, and work his way to the present.

 

 

 

 

Later that afternoon, Sliver walked in The Mighty Treehouse to discover a note left on the kitchen counter. He read it aloud to his friends that were gathered behind him.

 

To my dearest of friends, I have left for a journey that I hope shall make me the person I want to be, or at least, get me closer to that point. I require no assistance, simply because this is something that only I can accomplish. However, company is always welcome, so long as it comes in full knowledge of the journey ahead, and in silence. I don't know how long this will take, but the probability is that none will see me, except for the occassional note left behind in each leg of my journey. Time will tell.

 

Sincerely,

Edited by The Big Pointy One
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  • 1 month later...

His journey had barely begun, and already, he was lagging behind. Before him rose a demon of the mightiest proportions, one that had been a thorn in his side for years. One that had arisen from within. It was himself, his lack of will, his lack of strength. It stood before him like a blockade, stalling and preventing his foreward movement. It would be easy to pass, yet so difficult, by his own reasoning. He could evade it, if only he felt that he wanted to. This had happened so many times, yet he showed no will to change. It was pathetic, to anyone who took note. Luckily, he seemed to be the only one who noticed, at least, outwardly. Alas, the reward was straight in front of him, but he shrugged it off. He could not find the motivation anymore. His will was nearly drained. One could describe it as fighting a battle, but no battle was fought. He just... gave up. He gave up before there was any display of a fight, any hope, anything. It was over. The creative essence that was known to so many had simply vanished.

 

The Big Pointy One was no more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

With him, he took all those that had sprouted from his mind, his heart, his soul. The creations of pen and type were nothing more than memories, now. In the last moments, he hoped he could disappear as he had appeared. He knew it was happenning anyways. Obscurity guided him out, perhaps another day he could be seen, but as it went, few would notice and care more beyond surface value.

 

All things that begin must end, some sooner than others. Despite all the prose, this one just knew when to quit. That time had already passed, and every shred of resistance had finally faded away.

 

The darkness came slowly, and painfully, but it was the way things had to go.

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Darkness was all. Nothing existed but non-existence. Then, as soon as it had come, it was torn away with burning light. He stood in a familiar room. Lights from a few scant sources felt like a million suns to his eyes. He winced audibly and his vision was attracted to a new source of light. A new source that spoke to him.

 

"Good, you came back. I was worried about you."

 

He tried to blink away the blinding light from around him, but it was to no avail. He called out. "Who are you? Your voice is familiar, but I can not place it."

 

"You know who I am, that is good enough. I am a friend. I pulled you back, to let you know even though you take this personal quest alone, there are those who are still beside you. You are on the right track, but you should not give in."

 

"It's so hard..."

 

"Hard? Of course it's hard. No one ever said it was going to be easy. But that is what life is about. Overcoming challenges. So many people have said 'that which does not kill you only makes you stronger'. That is because it is true. Every obstacle, every pitfall you overcome helps to build you into who you truly are. It defines you."

 

"...I don't know if I can do it."

 

"I do. We all do. Just remember, no one expects anything of you except that you do what you want; that you do whatever makes you happy. That is the reason you are here after all, isn't it? We will be happy with you no matter what happens."

 

"..."

 

"Just take it easy, you have a path in front of you, it may be long, it may be short, but it's yours for the taking, and well within grasp. Don't be afraid, we all have faith in you." The figure that was nothing more than a shadow to his light-forsaken eyes paused for a moment, "Don't forget your light here, it'll be useful as you procede. Good luck."

 

He stood there, both adjusting to the light which was new to him all over again, and to the words from someone who sounded so familiar. Whoever it was, he was right. Now was not the time to give in to such fickle weaknesses. He must conquer himself and strive forward.

 

And it all started here.

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