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8/3/2019 3-WTE 2 draft 3
http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/3-wte-2-draft-3 1/3
Colin Kovacic Kovacic 1
Professor Jan Rieman
English 1103
September 1, 2011
WTE 7: Writing Personified (excerpt from a novel)
Chapter 9: Discovery
It didn’t make sense. Ishnam and Arthak had hunted these hills for over a decade; they
knew them better than any other tribe member, hunter or not. Yet here was the gaping maw of a
cave just barely half a day’s walk from the settlement.
“Is it… I mean, where did…” stuttered Ishnam.
Arthak silenced him with quick gesture. He immediately took up the task of constructing
a crude makeshift torch with a stray branch and scrap of cloth from his tunic. He lit it and said
tersely “Wait here,” and vanished into the blackness.
Arthak knew the noises he had heard weren’t just windsongs. The council was stupid to
believe the winds were that strong this early in the season. No, there were others in the valley,
strangers who had somehow slipped past the settlements traps and sentries. Arthak was the only
one who had suspected strangers could enter their home unnoticed and he knew he was more
prepared than anyone to deal with them.
He took step by cautious step deeper into the cave, which kept a straight and steady
downward course into the hill. Wind gently whistled through the dark passage. Suddenly it hit
him: This cave was mined. No natural grottoes exist with walls and floors this smooth. But this
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would have taken years, how long have these people been here? This revelation momentarily
distracted him, but a second was all it took.
First was a blinding flash. No longer able to perceive his surroundings, Arthak was
bombarded with visions of bizarre symbols. They danced before him silently, all sound was
muted, even the soft murmur of the wind. And yet… and yet somehow these emblems were
speaking to him. The message was vaguely familiar, like a stray thought or a forgotten memory.
Confused and dazed, Arthak stumbled on an unseen obstacle, cracked his head on the wall, and
blacked out.
When he woke he was in a large square room. Still slightly dizzy he first noticed the dark
tunnel opening that must have led back up to where Ishnam was waiting. If he’s still there. How
long have I been down here? Arthak had no sense of time inside the cave. It could have been
days. But then he realized with relief that he felt no hunger; he couldn’t have been out longer that
a couple of hours. With a firmer grip on what his position now was he finally surveyed the room.
Various patterns decorated the 20 foot high walls, which seemed to glow of their own
accord. Some Arthak recognized as pictures of animals and common objects interspersed with
other, unfamiliar symbols. Some looked like uneven lines running horizontally across the walls.
Others were strange designs that looked like they would have fit very nicely into a square grid.
Dozens of patterns were displayed, yet none that resembled the symbols that assaulted Arthak’s
mind before he lost consciousness.
“What is this place,” he murmured.
“This is my home.”
The reply froze Arthak. His hunting bow was gone, and his knife had been removed from its
sheath on his belt. Suddenly aware of his vulnerability he prepared to run.
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“Do not fear,” replied the voice, as though it was aware of his intentions. “Your
equipment is waiting for you in the tunnel, but before you may retrieve it you must leave your
mark. I am writing. I am the power behind civilization, the one who dictates when each may rise.
Your people have been peaceable and just. Caution rules your steps and it has brought you
prosperity. Still, there is an eternity of progress before you that I wish to make available. My
power can do this for you. I am, in my purest form, good and I have the power to connect minds
and worlds. My gift will be as a light to you and your people. It will be channel through which to
release anger and tension. It will be a weapon to ward off fear born of ignorance. It will be a
storyteller and a lawgiver, a warrior and a king, a faith and a god. However I have no control
over the power I bestow once it has left me, once it is in your hands. Thus understand that what I
am about to give you I do not bestow lightly. It will be misused, this I know, but do not worry
over such treachery unless it becomes tradition. You have shown insight beyond that of your
tribesmen, and for that I bestow this gift upon you first of all. Furthermore I declare you
protector and teacher of this gift. I name you scribe.
(to be continued)