31 Days of Stories

The curtains seemed lighter than they had in the past. There was still no visible light source. The chairs from last night were still there. I sat down in my chair and waited. Nothing happened.

"El Roi?" I asked into the nothingness.

"Yes, Mallory?" He answered, appearing.

"Where were you?"

"I was here, and there," He said with a smirk. Did nothing bother this man? Spoiler alert: nothing did.

"That doesn't make sense." I shook my head, annoyed.

"You are here and asleep in your bed, are you not?" He answered with a mischievous glint in His eye.

"I guess I am. Are you saying that if someone walked in that door right now that they would see us?" I was amazed that this was a possibility.

"Did you see me? Does anyone?" That glint was gone, replace with longing to connect with people again. "Did you?"

"I suppose not," I replied. What was I supposed to say after that?

"I saw your little stint at the hospital today," El Roi said, thankfully changing the subject.

Was I not supposed to do that? Why else would I have been given a tool to reshape reality? I would think that that was what I was supposed to do.

"-very proud of you, Mallory," He said. Wait, He was proud of me? That's not what I expected Him to say.

"Thank you, El Roi," I said.

"You have understood one of the reasons to have a pen. Now you must discover the others," He said.

"How do I do that?" I asked.

"You apprentice under the scribe the Council assigns you to. You learn how to write, where the limits are, and not cross boundaries," He replied.

"When should I be placed under a master?"

"Very soon."

That was news. Looking back, I should have expected it, but I was not at all ready to not have the freedom that I had possessed the last couple days.

"El Roi, why do people not know about you? They call you the Weaponsmaster without ever knowing who you are. They know you by what little you do."

"Long ago, centuries even, people talked to me. The knew me as God. We had the close relationship I created humans for. They loved me, and I them. Eventually, the culture changed. What was right became wrong in the eyes of men. What was wrong became desirable. Men gradually stopped believing in me and fellowshipping with me. I was remembered as a myth.

"A war broke out between the nations of men. The world was decimated. Very little survived. I intervened and removed some of the greater weapons. People moved on. The hatred remained unresolved. I was hated by many for saving their lives.

"A small group found one of the old books about me. They asked for my help and guidance. I gave them a system to help them survive. At sixteen years of age, every person would be given a weapon and taught how to use and respect it. They accepted and for years, we lived like this. They fellowshipped with me and I helped protect them. It was not even forty years when a battle happened and the new generation decided that weapons should be received earlier so the army could have more training. I allowed them this much, and the age was lowered to thirteen. People still fellowshipped with me for nearly a half century; then they forgot who I was. I was forced to do nothing more than watch and hand out weapons. No one remembered why I helped them, only that I gave them weapons. Still I stayed. I became the Weaponsmaster. I waited for someone who would be different. Someone who would ask and remember."

"Me," I said, astonished.

"Yes, you," He said with a smile. "You, Mallory Jameson, are a special girl with a special destiny. Surround yourself with people who will stand by your side."

I decided to brush off the destiny comment. "That's why you introduced yourself as the One Who Sees, because that's all you've done for a long time."

"Yes it is."

"Is there a way for me to talk to you when I'm awake?" I asked. Now, I really wanted to make sure El Roi would never be forgotten again.

"Ask and you will receive. Knock and the door will be opened," He said.

"That's a metaphor, right? Not every door will physically open when I knock, will it?"

"That depends on you." He answered cryptically.

I heaved a dramatic sigh. "You never give straight answers."

"When you are ready, it will all make sense."

"That makes even less sense."

"It is time for you to wake up now. I think you will find this day to be trying."

._____.

With that slightly ominous warning, I woke up from my dream to see light from behind my curtain. I got out of bed and threw some clothes on. I got ready in a blur and sat back down to my drawing of the blue room. Mom came and knocked on my door.

"Mal, the councillor is here to see you," she called through the door.

"Alright thanks, Mom," I called.

I went to the front door and opened it to find Councillor Lyra at the door. I invited her in.

"No, thank you. However, I do have a master willing to teach you. I can show you to his office if you would like." she said.

I nodded and shrugged. El Roi had told me to let myself be taught. "Mom, Lyra is taking me to my new teacher."

We walked down Main street and turned on Broadway. Lyra stopped at a small unassuming building, but I knew better than to judge it. She walked to the door, hesitated, and knocked. A middle aged man opened the door. He smiled warmly at Lyra, then he noticed me.

"So you're the girl I'm supposed to teach. You know, it isn't every day someone receives a pen as a weapon. It's about time someone took my job seriously." he said.

"We do take you seriously, Sorren," Lyra said. "And that's not what I am here for. You have a new apprentice to train."

"I would appear that I do," he retorted. He turned to me. "Well, girl, it seems as if I am your new master and I have to teach you how to write. You can call me Master Sorren or Master Wolffe. I'm not picky."

"My name is Mallory Jameson," I told him.

"Well, Miss Jameson, if you would follow me, I have an office set up for you," he said.

He bade Lyra goodbye and started down the hallway. We passed what appeared to be a bedroom and some closed doors. He opened one of them to reveal a beautiful office. The walls were a light blue, and the desk was a dark mahogany. Shelves lined the left wall and a huge window sat on the opposite wall. There was a chair was the same wood as the desk with a cushion that looked softer than I had imagined.

Footsteps outside the room jarred me out of my awe.

"Hey dad," a slightly familiar voice said. "I'm off to my..." he trailed off.

I turned to see the source of the voice. He gasped.

"You, You're the girl from the hospital. The one that made me able to walk," Evander said, for it was, in fact Evander. "I never got a chance to say thank you."

I was a loss for words. My master was this boy's father? What was El Roi up to now?

**Here's a little lore dumping. I know it was a little rocky but eh who cares at this second? I don't. I will edit it at some point. **