Ah, #! Well, looks like I went and died. And I really wanted to slay that dragon, was really gonna get me in with that princess and her father. I was
gonna be set for life! Ah well. You win this time, Sir dragon, well done. Oh, look, you're eating my corpse. That's lovely, I really feel the love
there, man. *mutters* Jerk.
Hmm, well, now what? I don't really feel any different, besides, you know, not having my body. And hey! Still got my- swords a pen now?! The heck am I
supposed to do with this thing?!
After clicking the pen I was sucked into it, merging with the ink inside, cultivating my mind and soul. Suddenly I was freed of partiality and
limitation, and was taken back over the course of my life. Except this time, in the overview, the focus wasn't on my life, like i had experienced
while living in it. It was on how my life fit onto the bigger picture and how my actions affected the stream of life as I made ripples in the pool.
Suddenly the concept of honour whigh I had thought to fight for was switched around on me. It wasn't about making a name for myself it was about
making lasting changes for the better.
I had a clear understanding of both the mind of the soul I had inhabited for a time a d the world around it, like giving myself over to a character in
a story while still being conscious of the plot.Exactly like it, in fact. Only, since I was the pen now, too... I could see the grander scheme of
things, I could see all the other characters and their stories. And, all of a sudden, as I went from character to character, I looked up and the plot
cllocked me in the face all at once like a mental Haymayker. It was glorious, and tears fell from my face at the sheer wonder and honour of the
experience. It was beauty in truth.
Now, I could really see, how the story was written: the characters themselves had the same tools the Author(me/you/The Pen) did! And how, by sinking
into these characters using the soul as a vehicle... We could advance the plot or work against it... All in the interest of good narrative, of course.
No story is good without conflict.
Indeed, from inside The Pen I could see how the struggle of the souls was at the exact same time both in significant and grand. And the one question I
could have had, which I realized burned in my mortal chest without me ever realizing it then, was so painstakingly obvious: the mortals had to
experience this knowledge for themselves to use it, it couldn't be given.
They had the tools at their fingertips(all too literally down the line with the invention of computers and smartphones), they had the ability. It was
the difference of knowing the plot subconsciously, and delving inside to nurture the seeds to full consciousness. Sure, stories could be given in the
fabric of their reality that could 'point' the way, and at several critical points The Pen itself took embodiment to provide guidance for a time. But
the best any story could do was to influence, to awaken the will of the receiver, to trigger their curiosity to hopefully propel them forwards
The time had come for me to look away from the story, and gaze upon its recipient. And I had thought to fight a dragon! A mere worm, digging and
playing in the dirt! I will save you the description, lest I be here for days, suffice it to say its fangs dripped poison its breathe wrought
destruction, its very existence caused the fabric of the story to unravel at the seams, 'entropy' or 'evil' were but byproducts! The grand story I had
seen before was but a dream in the dragons mind, the lingering remnants of consciousness in one given co pletely to abandon. If it were to have awoken
nothing could have stood in its wake!
I suddenly had a vast appreciation for the power known as 'sleep'. Anyways in the very corner of this things mind existed a certain gem, that gem was
The Pen, and in its slumber The Pen whipped up the most magnificent tale ever known, in the fragile hope that it might overturn the infinite iniquity.
For when the dragon awoke from its slumber everything would be obliterated, the reconstructed again to be obliterated once more and so on so forth ad
For itt was simultaneously both about the dragon, that the story was told, and about the characters inside the story themselves, i now understood.
There was no greater thing, than consciousness and what is done with it.
Away, back to the Dream, I must now leap ahead millennia into the soul of a warrior of a very different kind, a wielder of the pen.
edit on 1-3-2017 by LucidWarrior because: The end!