Wordscapist: The Myth (The Way of the Word Book 1) by Arpan Panicker Read Free Book Online Page A

its common objective, extracting an oath of intractable fidelity from them. I switched to the camera perspectives to ensure they were all capturing the group members. I then brought up the master camera perspective. It was focused on the scape-field centre, over the runic rock. The space over it was already warping as the combined words of the most powerful wordsmiths on the planet shaped reality against its will. The air was charged with raw power and the strange smell of split air peculiar to lightning strikes. The master camera had special filters that captured warps and shades that were beyond the ability of regular lenses. The filters had been scape-enhanced by a team of wordsmiths to be able to capture these details.
         I noticed that the overcast sky had got a lot worse and there were dark storm clouds gathering on the horizon. It looked like the set of a horror movie, and I was all set to watch Frankenstein’s monster stagger out of the warp, roaring for the blood of his demented creator. I kept switching between camera perspectives, checking the headphones to see if all the microphones were catching the words. The wind made everything a little fuzzy, but it was all still working. I could make out the voices clearly. Silvus, roaring; Zyx, musical; Jimmy, deadpan; Lily, nervous and yet furious. As I heard Lily’s voice, I noticed something strange. She was using archaic phrasing for the spell, against the more contemporary language used by the other wordsmiths. “… with the power invested in myself, I urge the firmament to accept my words as a definition of its reality…” That was strange. It was almost like she wanted to do something differently, just for the hell of it. I did not know what her scape signature was and dismissed the difference as a personal eccentricity. The essence of her words however amounted to the same, and the Continuum Meter recorded a healthy 17.
         The most powerful scape I had been on had registered a peak of 63.5, something I had often bragged about. I gulped as I remembered that today I would see the numbers go way beyond anything I had ever imagined. I hoped fervently I would live to brag about it. Something had changed about the cadence of the spells. I saw words on the screen that I did not recognise. It must be the Fractahedron Helix. I only vaguely knew about this spell. It created a complex reality structure that in turn facilitated the L’Esprit spells. The L’Esprit definition spell would create a non-conscious entity, a shell that would then be the basis for the rest of the scape. The wordsmith, in this case Silvus, would then weave his scape into this entity. The group would assign this shell to Silvus with the assignment spell. If all went as planned, this would ensure that Silvus became the Wordscapist. That thought merited another uncomfortable gulp.
         The group continued, focused at the centre of the field. The warp was growing in size and definition. I glanced at the CM. It was already up to 53. The CCC surveillance meters must have started twitching. Suddenly, the group stopped. Lily took a few seconds more to complete her spell. I noticed Silvus give her a suspicious look.
         He raised his voice and shouted out to the others, “Be prepared to complete the L’Esprit assignment. I shall raise my hand when I complete the scape.” I saw the others tense in anticipation.
         Silvus started his scape, his right hand pointing his staff to the scape-crux. I did not need the transcription to know the words. He was loud enough for everyone on that island to know the words of that incredible scape. The words were powerful, and the phrasing unusual. I guess it was his signature method or perhaps he was trying something special for today. I can still remember that roaring voice shouting out words that displayed the sheer insanity of this man’s ambition. “I, Anton Javier Silversmith, command this scape and the reality that it