49
Note: This is two excerpts from Book II of The Text trilogy. Instead of the author's point of view, this book was written as the Illustrator's Apprentice, a man the time-traveller-turned-writer met during his attempt to stop a criminal from waylaying the progress of human knowledge.
Day 1
I jolted out of the bed, scaring away the birds perched on the window. A quick glance at the sky through the window (a gaping hole in the wall during my time) confirmed my nightmare: It was already day. As I hurriedly ransacked my mahogany closet for my Illustrator Apprentice garb. I can't be late on my first day! I rolled down the creaking wooden stairs quickly and squeezed my way through the hectic town.
As I arrived at the Illustratorium I prepared myself for a scolding that would drone for a long time. Being a Illustrator is my dream job; I loved drawing and I hoped I could put my artistic skills to good use. I prayed that the Head Illustrator will be busy working, but tough luck. He was already waiting at the doorstep. James was not a person you would mess with; he made people who thought Illustrators are weaklings think twice with his immense strength. Being a fan of sports, he always punished his misbehaving Apprentices by forcing them to a painful position where you squat only halfway through. I had not know how it felt, but now I know. I grimaced as I entered the Illustratorium in the painful posture.
Since it's the first day of my Apprenticeship, James ordered me to stand aside and observe what an Illustrator did. I had seen an Illustrator do his job multiple times before, but it never ceased to amaze me. I quietly watched as a young woman came over to the counter and requested for an Illustration. To communicate in this time we can find a Messenger that will carry your message to the recipient by horse carriage. The problem with Messengers were you never knew whether they would remember the whole thing correctly, and it might result in hilarious situations. Another option is through Illustrations. You find a nearby Illustratorium, and tell the Illustrator at the counter your message. The Illustrator will begin to draw out your message; the younger Apprentices will take time and might confuse the recipient but the senior Illustrators are capable of drawing Illustrations that everyone can understand.
Finally, I was released at sunset and I slowly strolled back to my home with shaky legs. Today was a great day, as I witnessed the daily life of an Illustrator. But the best was yet to come. When I reached my doorstep, I was blinded by a flash of light and smoke. When it gradually dispersed, I saw a man clothed in mysterious garbs sprawled in front of me. I was shocked; but I shook myself out of a trance and immediately helped him into my house. He woke up soon after, and I asked about what had happened. He spoke with a slightly different accent; then he suddenly sat straight and asked me if "texts" exist. It was the first time I heard of this word; I replied no. He looked at me as if I was mad. Then he asked me what year in this. I answered his question and he gave me more questions. I made him rest for a while first; maybe he is just a traveller from a foreign land.
Day 130
Today something weird happened; the same explosion that brought the man from the future occurred again. This time a rectangular machine appeared alongside another man. My friend was overjoyed; he could finally go home. He had always wished someone would come back for him. He had dreams to become a "Writer", someone who dabbles with Text the way an Illustrator does with drawings. He also hopes to return back in time to find out what has happened; apparently someone had meddled with time itself and caused the art of Text to disappear. I only pray that Text will not replace Illustrations when it returns…
Day 1
I jolted out of the bed, scaring away the birds perched on the window. A quick glance at the sky through the window (a gaping hole in the wall during my time) confirmed my nightmare: It was already day. As I hurriedly ransacked my mahogany closet for my Illustrator Apprentice garb. I can't be late on my first day! I rolled down the creaking wooden stairs quickly and squeezed my way through the hectic town.
As I arrived at the Illustratorium I prepared myself for a scolding that would drone for a long time. Being a Illustrator is my dream job; I loved drawing and I hoped I could put my artistic skills to good use. I prayed that the Head Illustrator will be busy working, but tough luck. He was already waiting at the doorstep. James was not a person you would mess with; he made people who thought Illustrators are weaklings think twice with his immense strength. Being a fan of sports, he always punished his misbehaving Apprentices by forcing them to a painful position where you squat only halfway through. I had not know how it felt, but now I know. I grimaced as I entered the Illustratorium in the painful posture.
Since it's the first day of my Apprenticeship, James ordered me to stand aside and observe what an Illustrator did. I had seen an Illustrator do his job multiple times before, but it never ceased to amaze me. I quietly watched as a young woman came over to the counter and requested for an Illustration. To communicate in this time we can find a Messenger that will carry your message to the recipient by horse carriage. The problem with Messengers were you never knew whether they would remember the whole thing correctly, and it might result in hilarious situations. Another option is through Illustrations. You find a nearby Illustratorium, and tell the Illustrator at the counter your message. The Illustrator will begin to draw out your message; the younger Apprentices will take time and might confuse the recipient but the senior Illustrators are capable of drawing Illustrations that everyone can understand.
Finally, I was released at sunset and I slowly strolled back to my home with shaky legs. Today was a great day, as I witnessed the daily life of an Illustrator. But the best was yet to come. When I reached my doorstep, I was blinded by a flash of light and smoke. When it gradually dispersed, I saw a man clothed in mysterious garbs sprawled in front of me. I was shocked; but I shook myself out of a trance and immediately helped him into my house. He woke up soon after, and I asked about what had happened. He spoke with a slightly different accent; then he suddenly sat straight and asked me if "texts" exist. It was the first time I heard of this word; I replied no. He looked at me as if I was mad. Then he asked me what year in this. I answered his question and he gave me more questions. I made him rest for a while first; maybe he is just a traveller from a foreign land.
Day 130
Today something weird happened; the same explosion that brought the man from the future occurred again. This time a rectangular machine appeared alongside another man. My friend was overjoyed; he could finally go home. He had always wished someone would come back for him. He had dreams to become a "Writer", someone who dabbles with Text the way an Illustrator does with drawings. He also hopes to return back in time to find out what has happened; apparently someone had meddled with time itself and caused the art of Text to disappear. I only pray that Text will not replace Illustrations when it returns…
| Tags |
tools/tracking
3316938
6
lost-league-excerpts-from-the-text-book-ii
![[1/3] We Surrender (Worldbuilding League) Minecraft Blog](https://static.planetminecraft.com/images/layout/missing_image.png)
pat26
KEIKYU production
Lickydog
ThatOneIdiotNamedGhoul
ScotsMiser
GalaxyCat24
Songs of Fire Youtube
seventeenpointfour
Elyrantha
MarecekD033
kettlecooked
Henry04alcalino
Create an account or sign in to comment.