ScribbleHubWorks

This is not the chapter I have been promising, but I got inspired to write this as a sort of prelude. Background music to put on loop if you are so inclined

 
Once a long long time ago, I took an oath.
“...To act as a member for this student council in integrity, accountability, and in search of treasures as a good steward of our funds.”
Now here I lay, in the midst of many foreign pages. My scales dull, my wings droop, with spirit low, and no taste for anything.
I am drug by meandering in the current class project, which I had undertaken of my own volition in hopes of enriching everyone.
Don’t worry, class funding hasn’t really been an issue.
But I’m stuck. I don’t understand why.
 
I ask Archie to bring me the next batch of research material while Princess Sailus describes them to me. I may not be able to read, but the deep russian voice soothes my ears even if it can’t soothe my heart.
It’s been like this for months.
My kobolds have sympathetically continued to offer me gifts as they always have. I accept each one for my hoard, of course. Even if I don’t know where they acquire all of these things.
Companion has been able to comfort me at times, and I thank her for that, but it’s like something has been lost and I cannot find it.
 
In recent times, there have been some things I have found disappointing, chief of them: myself. I feel I haven’t been living up to what I could be. Besides that, fights generally don’t amount to much in meaning in this school, so combat for the sake of combat doesn’t really interest me. Absurd powers that defeat the purpose of interaction. The newcomers seem only interested in the school, while the old forum diehards have all but forsaken it. There aren’t any other dragons, much less Christian ones. So my ‘Dragons for Jesus’ club has no other members and cannot be officially recognized. Sure quagma says he’s in all the clubs, but when I observe it he’s nowhere to be found.
Somewhere the purpose of this all was lost sight of.
*hiss*
Lonely… hmm, no. Unsettled.
My tail twitches, thumping the floor restlessly.
The grandeur of such a massive cathedral-like school library can’t alleviate my woes, even if the meme posters have been enjoyable.
 
Archie returns with finfulls of books and tomes regarding my subject of study, none of which so far have given me a breakthrough.
However, instead of allowing me to flounder he gives a big toothy grin.
With great decorum and reverence, he leads me out the back of the library archive through to a…
…a cemetery.
Here lies inscribed the names of users and threads alike forever to rest in peace… unless someone were to practice necromancy. Sometimes it happens.
In the midst of the yard there was a shrine with a blue tiled roof and white plastered columns; a characteristic color scheme of School Architecture.
It was one of Scribble Hub’s greatest wonders: The Scribbletorium.
 
As I made way along the cobbled path I spied an engraving I recognized on one of the headstones: Controps. Fond memory, for me at least.
Raindrops sprinkle upon the stones and run down my scaly hide.
I also see a name which I have only heard infamously: Discount_Blade. Furthermore, there were many others banned, deleted, abandoned, or long forgotten. Some I’d heard of, some not. I took a moment of silence at mrsimple, even if I never knew him.
There were just as many threadstones as member ones. A memorial to the first cat cult war, another to the first civil war, and one to the second. The schism between light and dark mode users. Countless threads locked or derailed due to arguments. It was all here.
Truly, a place of memory and forum lore.
 
By the time I’m standing before the mighty adorned gate to this esteemed vault, my tears, they plink on the ground as solid gold. Gleaming in the wet mix from above.
The key to my current conundrum, hidden before me. To accomplish my mission would require I search the very being of the forum itself.
 
The bar of the gate lifts. I head inside alone.
 
Each person experiences something different within the deep lore. I begin striding through cold stone passageways. The darkness flees from my dull light, but the path remains a mystery.
I wander the maze directionless until a flicker of scent crosses me, burning wood. Seeking out the smell in the depths of these dank tunnels leads me towards a comforting warmth and eventually to an open area with night sky and the moon overhead licked by the flames of a central bonfire. The fire crackles so invitingly.
~And it was so warm~
 Opening my wings, I bask in the glow of the fire.
 
…Embrace the flame…
 
Fiery embers sprout and dance around me like delicate fireflies. Too numerous to count, like the stars in the sky. Some of them hug my scales tenderly.
I answer their call with a step forth… and another…and another…until I am before the blaze.
Closing my eyes, I recall it has been some time since last I…
The heat, it calls to me so familiar. Passionate.
 
~Embrace the Flame~
 
Taking the plunge, I rear back and leap into the inferno.
I am engulfed.
The clouds of my mind are tempest. I remember the misgivings I’ve had, the bad impressions, poor perceptions. The disappointments.
It was like no matter what you do nothing ever changes. Nothing you say matters, your jokes fall flat, and you’re annoyed by the quirkiness of those around you. Nobody accepts the wisdom or suggestions that you offer and your corrections fall on deaf ears. You argue when you shouldn’t and are insensitive when it matters most. You lack proper approach to others. You think yourself high and mighty when you are so very wrong and hypocritical. Frustration unending.
Worst of all, you yourself are not a blessing but a curse upon the whole community which you love and hate.
You’re no good. This isn’t worth your time anyway.
Disinterest reigns supreme.
Being in this place rots the soul.
It is all too much, who could bear it?
 
The heat rises up. The bright glow from below radiates through the storm, its brilliant rays not yet reaching me.
 
Lies
Deceptions
So many things that are so untrue.
May they all burn in the renewal of your mind.
The tempest smolders. Combusts. Clouds become smoke and ice becomes kindling.
Remember your salvation at the hands of your redeemer!
The heavy weight which had dragged me down, scorched. Nothing but ash.
My heart burns anew.
 
Embrace the Flame
 
I open my eyes.
Fully Immolated I stand as the kiln of the bonfire, motes of flame crown my head. My scales aglow with golden light once again.
Around me now are wisps of fire gathered as spirits around a bonfire. My treasures, which I hold dear in my hoard. Myriad candles lit as a part of a larger whole. Each candle the shape of a Scribbler old or new, enrolled or not, but their wicks burned alike.
Incited, I ask them, “why do you love Scribble Hub?”
Each gave their answer. The same one in different ways.
“The community and the people they’ve met here.”
 
Revelations and epiphanies blaze through my mind. Answers to problems I didn’t even realize I had.
‘In this High School, the power is with the author alone.’
‘The answer is not to destroy your enemies, but to love them.’
And many more that can’t be listed quickly enough.
But finally the last which I had sought eclipsed me, my understanding now full.
The fire fades into the night sky. The moon looks so cold.
 
With this knowledge and renewed spirit I will fulfill my oath.
I will find the treasures that we seek.

ScribbleHubWorks

This chapter was written by Prince Azmiran Myrian!