novelraw Chapter 15 : Writing
Chapter 15 : Writing
Chapter 15: Writing
God slightly bent down, His radiant finger lightly tracing across the altar.
The first stroke—three continuous, undulating, interwoven wavy lines.
“River.”
God’s voice was calm, like the gentle murmur of a stream.
Apollo widened his eyes, staring fixedly at that peculiar symbol.
He had seen flowing water countless times, crossed streams innumerable times, yet had never imagined…
That this ever-moving form could be so simply fixed within such a small space!
Next, God drew a circle.
“Sun.”
Apollo raised his head, looking at the blazing sun in the sky, then lowered his gaze to the simple symbol on the ground.
An indescribable shock struck his soul.
He thought—a simple symbol could actually represent something so concrete and eternal!
It was not merely a circle.
It represented warmth, daylight, everything required for the growth of all things!
God continued drawing.
A curved arc—“Moon.”
A small triangular point—“Mountain.”
A simple human outline, arms spread wide—“Great.”
And upon the form of “Great,” a light dot placed above the head, God said:
“This is ‘Heaven,’ where the stars reside.”
Each symbol corresponded to things Apollo knew intimately, yet stripped of their concrete forms.
God wrote many more characters.
And these characters opened an entirely new world for Apollo—
A world where symbols could record and transmit.
When dozens of such primitive characters covered the ground, God stopped.
He looked at Apollo, that gaze seeming to pierce through time and see the distant future.
“Apollo.”
“Language fades with the wind. Memory blurs with time. But writing can transcend time and space.”
With a gentle motion, He pushed the stone tablet—bearing the origin of divine grace—before Apollo.
“Take what you believe to be most important—your expectations and admonitions for the tribe…”
“And record them with these characters.”
Apollo extended both hands and received the stone tablet.
It was not heavy, yet it seemed to carry the weight of an entire civilization.
He lowered his head, looking at the faintly glowing characters on the ground.
When he raised it again, God had already departed.
He tightly gripped the stone tablet.
Even though his body trembled with emotion,
His eyes were as firm and bright as in his youth.
He would use these earliest characters to carve the history of the tribe, to carve the grace of God, to carve all his instructions and warnings for future generations.
This would be the tribe’s—
No, the world’s first historical record.
The first classic, written by one chosen by God, using words bestowed by God, upon a tablet granted by God.
The dawn of civilization pierced through the long night of ignorance, illuminating the path for thousands of years to come.
……
Another ordinary day.
Wa and Ze returned.
At this moment, they were full of vigor.
They brought back unique products from their respective territories.
These rare items drew gasps and admiration from the tribespeople, and even their gazes toward Wa and Ze were filled with respect.
However, when the two brothers entered Apollo’s dwelling, the vigor on their faces was instantly replaced by shock.
In the corner of the room, stone tablets leaned one against another.
They were covered with things they had never seen before.
But what truly alarmed them was Apollo.
The father who had always appeared young in their eyes was now aging like a mortal!
“Father!”
Wa and Ze called out in unison, their voices filled with concern.
Seeing his returning sons, Apollo’s eyes revealed genuine joy.
He put down the carving knife in his hand and beckoned them.
“Wa, Ze, you’ve returned!”
“Come, look—God has granted us new grace!”
He pointed at the stone tablets scattered across the ground.
“Look, this is ‘writing’!”
“From now on, everything that happens in the tribe can be recorded with writing!”
“And then passed down from generation to generation!”
He picked up two stone tablets he had already prepared and handed them respectively to Wa and Ze.
Apollo pointed at the symbols, briefly explaining the meanings they corresponded to.
Something wondrous happened!
As Apollo spoke, those originally unfamiliar symbols seemed to be infused with life. Wa and Ze almost instantly “understood” the content on the tablets!
The tablet in Wa’s hands recorded that brilliant starlit night over fifty years ago—
When God had chosen Apollo among three youths, granting him the divine grace of Leo and his name.
The tablet in Ze’s hands recorded events not long ago—
How Apollo had prayed to God upon the altar,
And how he had divided his Authority, granting it to the five siblings.
Shock!
An overwhelming shock swept through the hearts of Wa and Ze!
This method of transcending language, directly conveying information, and engraving history—
Its significance was no less than the divine grace they had received!
It was as if they had personally witnessed those crucial moments that shaped fate.
Yet after this immense shock,
A trace of unwillingness quietly emerged in their hearts.
God was so benevolent and generous!
Not only had He granted their father power,
He had also bestowed upon him “writing,” this force of civilization.
And they—even though they had obtained divine grace—
Had never once personally heard a divine oracle, nor had they ever communicated with God even once.
God’s gaze seemed to have always rested only upon their father.
Apollo did not notice the fleeting complexity in his sons’ hearts.
He was immersed in the joy of sharing.
“Now, our tribe has three cities.”
“We have cultivation, we have animal husbandry, and now we also have writing!”
“Our footprint is expanding, our civilization is advancing!”
He paused, his face radiating an unprecedented brilliance, his voice suddenly becoming resounding.
“I have decided—to hold a ceremony upon the altar.”
“I, Apollo, will be crowned as ‘King’!”
“King?”
Wa and Ze looked at each other, confused by this unfamiliar term.
They did not understand what “King” specifically meant—was it a title more exalted than tribal leader?
Yet inexplicably, when they heard this word spoken from their father’s mouth, a powerful longing and stirring arose deep within their hearts.
As if this word itself represented a supreme order!
A declaration of a new era!
……
When everything was prepared,
This time, only Apollo stood upon the altar.
His children, and all the tribespeople,
Stood solemnly below, looking up at their leader.
Apollo wore a brand-new ceremonial robe, sewn from the most supple animal hides and precious feathers.
Though his hair was now completely white,
When he raised the ritual staff—
An indescribable sense of authority and sanctity naturally emanated from him.