The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Ailwin stoked the ashes, breathing life into the dying embers. Wolves howled nearby; their mournful cries warning him to stay near the fire. He wrapped a quilt around his body, scooting nearer the flames. He opened a worn leather bound book, squinting at the words written in script. He moved closer to the warmth, the campfire illuminating the pages. The ancient texts, written by seers of old, rejuvenated his spirit and brought life to his tired soul. Enemies sought to destroy the words of the diviners bringing hope to the oppressed; Men like Ailwin guarded the sacred writings, pledging to die to protect the lifegiving truths...

Michael paused and rubbed his eyes. He dropped the pen inside his little black notebook and walked around the living room. "Ailwin, Ailwin, Ailwin...what am I going to do with you," thought Michael. Sometimes the words flowed like a raging torrent, faster than his ability to write; at other times, his thoughts resembled a barren riverbed, forgotten by even the rain. He set a teapot on the stove and settled back on the couch. The pressure of the publishing company's deadline hindered his ability to pour the story out on paper. He had already spent the $20,000 advance, so he could not haggle for additional time. He tapped the pen against his temple and whispered, "Think, think, think..."

A twig snapped nearby. Ailwin stared into the inky darkness, daring not to breathe. He drew his weapon and slipped into the shadows. He hid the book in the hollow of a hoary oak and etched the tree with the sacred symbol of a fish in case his life ended. Someone from the Secret Templars would find the book and deliver it to the next assigned keeper.

A silhouette passed in front of the fire and slipped into his tent. Ailwin watched, waiting. He eased nearer the blaze to confront whoever invaded his temporary sanctuary. As the intruder backed out into the night, Ailwin pressed the sword's tip to the neck of the trespasser. A quiet gasp escaped the stranger's lips.

"Remove your hood and identify yourself..."

The tea kettle whistled, and Michael sprang to his feet and prepared a soothing cup of Chamomile. After a couple of sips, the brain fog slowly lifted. His pen glided across the page.

The hood slid from the invader's head and Ailwin ordered the shadowy figure to turn around. A familiar young lass stared resolutely into his eyes.

Ailwin sheathed his blade. "Eleanor, are you trying to get yourself killed? What are you doing here?"

"I am here to warn you." She paused to warm her hands by the fire. "The Secret Tribunal of Westphalia have commissioned mercenaries to find you and destroy the oracles' teachings." Hounds bayed in the distance. "Their mongrels have been tracking you for days. Listen...they are little more than a thousand paces away."

Ailwin retrieved the book and grabbed Eleanor by the hand. Enemy voices encouraged the dogs as they closed in on their prey. Ailwin and Eleanor were soon swallowed by the forest's darkness. Stumbling over roots and vines, they ran quickly for the stream to erase their scent. A bell sounded in the distance...

"A bell? Where did that come from?" Michael wondered to himself.

"Michael," a voice called. "Michael," the voice summoned a bit louder. Michael felt the gentle squeeze of a hand on his shoulder. "Michael, class is over."

He opened his bleary eyes and saw an empty classroom. A stream of saliva dangled from his lips, tethered to the desktop. He wiped his face on the back of his sleeve. Michael stretched and yawned. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I worked late again last night."

The professor nodded, with a stern glare. "Be sure and copy down the information on the board," she instructed. "Don't forget you have a creative writing assignment."

Michael scribbled the directions into his little black notebook. He added the note, Remember the Dream.

"Do you have any ideas on what you're going to write?" the professor asked.

Michael smiled. “Actually, Dr. Ailwin, I do." He shoved his books into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "Have a great weekend!"