Challenge Ended

Each Child In Your Village Is Chosen By A Weapon At Their Coming of Age. The Deadlier The Weapon, The Greater The Prestige For The Family. You've Been Chosen By The Pen.

Try to write with these two scenarios, the moment you get chosen by the pen, or the moment after/before and your thoughts on what happened/what could happen. You can do whatever though, but those scenarios are my favorites:) Just have fun with it and make the story super cool and interesting for someone to read.

Ended November 21, 2019 • 2 Entries • Created by Sophiefoster15

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Each Child In Your Village Is Chosen By A Weapon At Their Coming of Age. The Deadlier The Weapon, The Greater The Prestige For The Family. You've Been Chosen By The Pen.

aniya_x

38 reads

The Pen

They made fun of me. Especially those that were chosen by axes, swords, and mighty hammers. But they undersestimate it. Simple minded fools, who think everything must be solved with a fight. Hadn't they ever heard, "The pen is mightier than the sword."

Words can spark rebellions, start wars. They can end wars.

Notes that you write on paper and send to others will probably move them, especially if you search a dictionary for precisely the right words. After all, such messages are unusual now. In a world full of constant electronic communication, ink on the page will stand out in people's minds and affecting their emotions, their thoughts, their actions.

They can make fun of me all they want. But in the end, the pen chose me. And again, as I've said, the pen, tis mightier than any sword.

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Each Child In Your Village Is Chosen By A Weapon At Their Coming of Age. The Deadlier The Weapon, The Greater The Prestige For The Family. You've Been Chosen By The Pen.

Lunaria6657

30 reads

In Thio’s opinion, waiting in line sucks. He’s spent his entire morning doing exhausting activity but somehow waiting in a line was the most tiring. Waking up at the first signs of sunrise to avoid being attacked by his family, fighting a bear for a half-eaten salmon, climbing an entire mountain without getting beaten to death by a goat. And now, waiting…

Finally, the line was growing shorter and the weapon ring grows nearer. When he was young his parents decided it would be best settle in The City of Blood, they weapons having been owned as soon as they took a step into his Mom’s childhood home. A halberd shooting off the floor, swiftly snatched from the air. It was time, he took a step into the weapon ring.

“Thio Caskeson, select your opponent. After which your weapon will find you,” the priest demanded.

“My Mother, Clytodora Caskeson,” Thio said confidently. As soon as the words left his mouth, a rumbling was heard. A slight tremor in the ground, a whistling sound is heard in the distance, getting ever so closer. A small object lands at his feet, lodged in the dirt.

A gasp was heard from the adults in the crowd.

“Excuse me, the fuck,” Thio asked.

“Thio, put the pen down,” his Mom, Atalanta, demanded.

“Mom, it’s just a pen,” Thio said in disbelief.

“Thio, run,” Clytodora called anxiously. Clytodora Caskeson doesn't get anxious, something's wrong. He looked at to the crowd, all with blood lust clear in their eyes. He needs to go.