Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1) (42 page)

     Sheer shock turned to incredulity. How! That is when it came to me. Space and time had no meaning here. I had merely run right back to the place I had started from.  I slowed down and stopped near Dew, collapsing to my knees, overplaying my exhaustion a bit. Only a bit, though. Sign watched me with a cold smile, her cats giving me dispassionate green-tinged glares. I gasped for a little longer, trying hard to come up with a strategy of some sort, words that would bail me out. I was running out of options here. More importantly, Sign was running out of patience. And soon, she would lean over and touch me out of existence.

     Sign flicked a finger and the entire world dissolved to a cold, wet grey. I was in a sea. Huge waves battered me and I was thrown about. I tried to kick and stay up, but all I managed to do was catch another wave as it hit me in the face. I swallowed huge amounts of rancid, cold salt water as I struggled and gasped to stay afloat, beating with hands and feet. The sheer immensity of the sea hit me as huge swells tossed me about. All the fear I had of being set adrift came rushing into my head, paralysing me. I felt myself slipping deeper and deeper into the water. I gasped, trying desperately to suck in air and keep the water from flooding into my lungs.

     Swim! I screamed at myself. My legs struck out in the one-two pattern, and my arms tried to push the water down. For a couple of moments it worked, and I managed to stay afloat long enough to grab a few lungfuls of air. And then the waves took over. Vicious currents grabbed me and pulled me all over the place, corkscrewing me deeper into the water. Panic washed over me as I tried to whoop in a huge breath before I was pulled down. Too late! I felt harsh salty water sear its way down my windpipe, flooding my lungs. I shut my eyes and kicked desperately, breaking through to the surface again. But I still could not breathe. I choked and coughed as I tried to draw in air, but all I managed was pitiful convulsions. My body stiffened and once more I slipped into the water. Even with my eyes shut, I could see my entire world going red. I was low on oxygen and on the verge of passing out. Let go. It’s ok to let go. This is the best way to go, the safest. It will give Dew a chance to live on. It will leave the world a better place. You’re a disaster waiting to happen. Just let go, and complete peace will come.

     The words were hypnotic, increasing the urge to just relax and draw in the water into my lungs, to just finish it all. Words...they’re just words. And in response, I felt words of my own come up, rise up.

   “I can’t go like this. I can’t die. Not here. Not now. Not like this.”

    For one instant, everything around me froze. The thought came back…I cannot die.

     That is when things changed.

     I kicked furiously, pulling with my arms as I burst through to the surface. I managed to drag in a breath. The air flooding my lungs worked miracles. I kept kicking and took in a few more breaths. I was alive! I saw a huge wave coming my way again. I knew I could not keep this up forever. Sign was playing with me. And it was a game that was all too real and lethal. If I died here, I stayed dead. I would not even have a second innings as a ghost. I had to get out of this madness. And swimming was not the answer. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as the wave tossed and turned me about. In that chaos, the answer came to me. It was simple. It had never changed. Words. The answer always lay in words. Words that lay beyond Sign’s control. Words that would define my being and the world around me. I knew what I had to do. I closed my eyes and fell back, falling into a dead float in the water.

     Unlearn and learn. Deconstruct and build. That would be the beginning. I started weaving, ignoring the physical world around me.

“I do not exist

I was who I was told to be

I was who I was expected to be

I was

Was I?”

    I felt the air stirring in response to my words and concentrated thought. I felt it resist me. I could feel the midnight blue leaking into the grey, poisoning the world around me, getting it to ignore my scape. But no! I was not done yet. Words…There was no voice this time. Only a simple realisation. Words…In the beginning there was the word. In the end, there will be the word. With words, I shall assert my identity. With words I shall call out.

“No! I am who I want to be!

I am a myth, a story, a ghost.

I am flux that can be shaped anyhow.

I am me, I am you, I am anyone.”

     Open ended thought flowed, taking the world with it. The sea drained out, disappearing as if sponged up by a huge divine mop. I was suspended in air, feeling the liquid seep out of me, as if suddenly aware of its non-existence. In moments, I was dry, and back on my feet. I was back in Sign’s world. The grey of the sea bled out, giving way to the purple of that perverted place. I saw her snarling as she started towards me, her hands reaching to snuff me out. Her cats sensed the danger and leapt too, all of them at the same time. But I was beyond them. I was beyond time and space now. I was in my world.

“Words capture the form

Fleeting though it is

     Everything slowed, everything stopped. I was on the verge of the biggest moment in life, and I finally knew what pure consciousness meant. I knew the words that remained. There could be no other.

In these ephemeral scapes

I exist

I am

The Wordscapist”

     In that one instant, I had defined and embraced all that I was, all that I was supposed to be. I didn’t care what De Vorto said, what anyone believed. There was to be no more denial. There was to be no more doubt. My powers and limitations were defined by me, and I had been limiting myself for too long now with thoughts of escaping the world and all the challenges that lay therein. I had accepted who I was, who I wanted to be. I would be the Wordscapist. I was the Wordscapist. In that split second of insight, it all came to me. It all became real. And yes, the Wordscapist does not let anyone define his reality.

      “Stop!” I said, extending my arm, palm out. It was the classic gesture I had seen in so many movies, and in my head I knew how it was to play out. They were all supposed to freeze in the air. Well…they did not.

     A split second later, Sign came crashing into me, her hand around my throat. I collapsed on the hard ground. The elemental did not weigh much, and I was able to push her off and roll away. It was just as well as two of Sign’s cats crashed down on either side of her, where my arms had been splayed a second before. And by way they landed, they did not sound very lightweight. I rolled desperately and scrambled up. That is when I realised that I had survived Sign’s touch. Something had worked! Words! I needed more words!                  

     The cats slid wildly, their claws scratching fiery trails in the rocky ground, trying to twist around. Sign got to her feet, much slower, more graceful and a whole lot more deadly. She shrieked her fury at me and brought her hands up, no doubt to launch another reality-twisting spell.

     I knew then what I had done wrong. I had broken through the scape constraints in her world. But I still needed to weave. I could not just say ‘stop’ and expect to freeze them. I feinted to one side and dove to the other, away from a bolt of power that shot from Sign’s hands. I had my favourite freeze spell running in my head, as I put in words to take Sign and her beloved pets into account.

“Capture form

Immobilise intent

Prevent escape

Hold in limbo

The elemental and her pets

Wait in frozen motion

For my command to thaw you”

      I was just in time. Everything stopped. The very air turned immobile as I saw Sign and her cats stop in their tracks. The third cat was caught in the midst of a lethal leap a few inches from me, its claws unsheathed and aimed at my face. The scape had worked. Sign and her cats waited, frozen and yet strangely animate. I couldn’t delay, but the lure of studying these alien beings was too much. I walked around them slowly, looking at the sheer definition of their physical forms; the perfection, the texture and the other-worldly hues. I could see little twitches and momentary warps as they struggled against the spell. I did not have much time. I had to figure out this mess. More importantly, I had to figure out what this entire deal with Sign was all about. I squatted beside Sign’s petrified form, weaving an identification spell around her, the like of which had never been woven before.

“In words and images,

Memories and intent,

All that you are,

And all that you were made for,

Let the shadows and veils drop

To reveal your maker

And the purpose that drives you

Open up elemental

To the one who reads you”

   I took a deep breath, reached forward and touched her forehead.

   A flood of memories swamped me. It was an intense experience, drawing in memories of all Sign’s experiences. I went through those memories, kind of like a regressive hypnotic experience. I saw myself through her eyes; an unprecedented threat who moments before had been nothing more than a rude runt in need of some terminal disciplining. I saw Zauberin quivering and begging mercy. I saw Silvus, pale and drawn. Wordsmith after wordsmith went flashing before my eyes; each of them humbled, most of them murdered mercilessly, torn apart by her cats or caressed to death by a fleeting touch of those lethal hands. As clothes and surroundings changed, I could make out that centuries were flying past. I felt dizzy at the sheer scale of this being’s existence. But I had to hold on. There was much more to go. I was reaching some really ancient memories now, as Sign had fewer and fewer challenges and tasks; the earlier days and wordsmiths being much more peaceful and much less disruptive.

      And then her memory came to a standstill. There was no more. Abruptly, with the ridiculously easy hunting of a wordsmith who had no clue who she was, her memories came to an end. But how? There had to be more. I had to find out who she was and how she had come into existence. I could already feel Sign’s consciousness rebelling against the restraining scape. I could not keep her bound for long. Wait, there was a hint of memory, deliberately shrouded in a mist. I instinctively knew that the solution lay therein. I had to uncover that one last piece of memory – it may hold the secret to the creation of this elemental and all the madness that had followed. The scape I had woven had a provision for such a veil. But I could sense the strength in the protection that hid further memories from me. I wove further, extending my consciousness into Sign’s mind. What I was trying was suicidal; running an invasive probe into Sign’s mind, disconnecting my consciousness from my body. I had to know what this was about. I probed and parted, cajoling the veil apart. Hints and shadows lay beyond. And then, suddenly, I was through!

     I was inside Sign, seeing the memory from her perspective. Only, the other memories had an alien tinge to them, much like her form and world. They were bereft of emotion and any feeling. Sign had come across in all of them as a ruthless elemental who went about a job that she had to do. But this was different. She was a woman; a simple, ordinary woman. I kept my thoughts to myself and let the memory play.

     She was sitting on the top of a hill. I recognised the surroundings. De Vorto’s home, his private little world. I could feel traces of excitement and fear inside her, inside the memory. She was waiting for something monumental, dangerous. I did not have to wait long to find out what. “Lorna…”

     She turns around at the voice. I see the wordsmith that the last, or rather the first memories, had focussed on. Now, seen from a human perspective, the features were clear and easily recognisable. It was Alain de Vorto. Though it was a little difficult to recognise features on a full grown man when you have always known him as a two-inch tall faerie.

     “Alain! Finally! I was afraid you had chosen someone else!”

     “I wish I could, Lorna. I do not like this idea one bit.”

     “But this is your brainchild, Alain! I am merely the tool!”

      Sign had been an exclamatory kind of person while she was Lorna. I could not believe the sheer difference in personality.

     “Lorna,” De Vorto was struggling to say what he wanted to. I could guess. And I was not far from the mark. “I care for you. I do not want you to be hurt in this process. I could accept another’s loss. You, I cannot lose.”

      “Alain, you have always put your craft before your life. You can do this. You have to. It will be the greatest scape ever! It will watch over Wordkind and protect the rest of humanity for all of eternity. Do you realise that you are playing God Himself, Alain!”

      “Lorna, I have a confession to make. The scape-crux was provided by a Lirus. I do not trust those infernal mages. I am afraid there might be mischief laced into this rune.”

      I noticed then that he had in his hand a small stone that was carved intricately with multiple symbols. He had been fingering it throughout the conversation.

      “The Lirii? You have their blessing. You do not have anything to fear now! Let’s start, I can’t wait any longer.”

      De Vorto rather reluctantly made his way to a stone altar that stood to one side, laying the rune on it. Without further ceremony, he started weaving a scape. Lorna did not go closer and I could not make out much of what he was saying. It was a long scape and throughout Lorna stood rooted as if frozen.

     Slowly, I realised that her perspective was changing. Her excitement slowly died out, replaced by a single-minded purpose. I could read the thought forming in her mind; loud and clear. “Eliminate all wordsmiths; starting with the one who created you, moving on to those who dare scar the Continuum and ending with those who remain. Purge the curse of Wordkind from the surface of this planet.”