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By: Ian Essling
A new day is dawning; I, however, cannot see it. My prison is very hot and the sun does not lend me the light of its rays. You see, the barriers across the mouth of the tomb prevent anything from reaching me.
I sit in a dark corner of this tomb and ponder my situation. How has it come to this, I ask myself. I am occupying this dark and cramped prison with fifteen of my fellow scribes, staring at the barren walls and stagnant pools of water in desperation. My eyes have become those of a troglyte; I cannot remember what the sun looks like.
Once before, it was not like this. Although this cave may be all that future members of our guild ever know as our home, we were once respected members of the kingdom, granted residence in the castle itself.
Members of the community frequented our residence, and great bay windows provided us with a spectacular view of the countryside.
For many years we had served the populace faithfully as the scribes of the kingdom. As a voice of the people, we recorded the events of the land as they happened, spurred passionate discussions of worldly issues, and even organized events and festivals for the townsfolk to attend.
Our reward appears to be unrepresentative of the services we have performed for this commonwealth. The sun cannot even reach the deepest sections of our tomb, and simple petitions for needed amenities have gone unanswered.
Many villagers have no idea where we are. Moved from our home while the town celebrated the end of Week de Finals, many of our most faithful readers will be shocked to see our former abode now occupied by an artist and her disciples, who were, ironically, also evicted from their home by masons deeming their former place of study uninhabitable.
A shaft of light suddenly penetrates the gloom as someone slides aside the barriers at the entrance of our prison. Perhaps some townsman has graciously ventured up the mountain to speak with us!
Alas, it is not true; it is a member of our wayward band of exiles returning from yet another fruitless quest to persuade the royalty to allow us back into the kingdom, or perhaps a quest to bring more supplies for our scribes
A sudden burst of clicks and snaps beside me remind me that I'm not alone; another poor creature labors beside me in the ever-deepening darkness, struggling to complete our monthly publication amid the cramped darkness of our residence.
Our entire band was exiled to this forsaken tomb. We pleaded our case before every magistrate in the land, only to be thwarted at every turn. Our belongings were dragged from our humble dwelling and cast into the blackness in which I now sit.
But through all of this, our guild has retained the unbreakable resolve for which we have become famous. We may be locked away from civilization in our overcrowded and stifling warren, but we will not be deterred.
No amount of political maneuvering, forgotten work orders and bureaucratic nonsense can silence us.
We will continue to provide the populace of this fair kingdom with the best possible service; we will write and publish important news, entertaining features and fiery opinions. We are, and always will be, a voice of the people. |
