ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel

The Gods of Knowledge (A Short Story)

Updated on February 13, 2013
Source

Before I was a single ‘I’ I was a ‘WE’. I was a plural, a race, and a species. I was the Ahwaks, and a long time ago, we, the Ahwaks, the inheritors of the emerald green scrolls stumbled across an ugly truth. Our glorious culture was a hoax, worth nothing, or a little less than nothing.

Scrolls we had many, but they proved useless, undecipherable, written in a script ancestors forgot to teach, to pass down to us—to the progeny of the Gods of Knowledge.

We didn’t blame them. We knew nothing behind the reason, behind hiding knowledge. We used to say it must have been a tough decision to take, it must have been temporary. Only that we had been living at the threshold of civilization for ages by then, hardly educated and inured to it.

Slaves we had none. We were the salves, working day and night, enduring the mockeries of other masters: masters of wealth, greed, and vice—but never of knowledge. Our numbers were dwindling and we thought we were certainly dying, if not sooner, then probably soon.

A thousand we became, later. No more than that. We accepted our fate and continued living—this time, to curse ancestors at every chore we handled, at every whiplash we wore. Somehow, it was our way to pay tribute to a decadent ancestry.

Time elapsed. For how long? Nobody counted. Now we are only one. Now we are no more a ‘WE’ but a simple ‘I’, alone and facing extinction.

Before I die, I have to put an end to ancestors' knowledge.Their legacy are shelves stuffed full of useless scrolls towards which my guiltless hand extend, tentatively. Layers of dust, wrapping thick the forbidden knowledge, frown upon my intrusion for a while, but only for a while.

My right hand approaches, feels, and seizes a scroll. The other hand ignites it. The scroll fights back, stubbornly, refusing to burn, to give me satisfaction, to quench my appetite for revenge. I grow mad, I ran amok, trying over and over until I notice what my eyes refuse to see.

The scroll resists, but not the script within. Not the emerald green ink, turning liquid. My finger dips into the ink, feels a strange connection, a weird exchange. I take the ink to my tongue, to my sense of taste. It tastes awful, but does it really matter? Is it really a surprise? I feel an urge calling. I feel the need for more. I hold the scroll up; I squeeze it dry, drink its juice, and await something.

The taste is bitter, acerbic, astringent, and… but wait, I use words I never used before? How can this be? Is it the…I dread to think… another word? Yes! An experiment? Why not? I think of another word. Here it comes, but not alone. Others orbits around it—synonyms, derivative words, grammatical categories. The word game entertains me, enlivens my spirit, and gives me hope. I exercise my mind, once, twice, thrice. Every time it works. I’ve become something. Yes something, not someone. I have become a living thesaurus, retrieving as many words as in a bulky dictionary.

“Ha,ha,ha,ha…”I burst into a fit of laughter. I collapse to the ground. Knowledge wasn’t meant to be understood, it was meant to be drunk. I continue to laugh. I begin to cry.

Then I black out.


My eyes open. No more unconscious, but still confused. I must make up for the wasted time. I must resurrect the dead. Scroll after scroll is melt. scroll after scroll is sipped. I grow knowledgeable, becoming another thing: A PLANT, only a plant. How come? I don’t care—a side effect?

Probably.

Days pass, someone picks me up, takes me away, squeezes me hard, dilutes emerald green ink with water.

“Shaman,” his people call him.

“Heal us,” they implore.

Shaman gives them ‘me’ with water. Shaman gives ‘me’ to his sick people who don’t recover. They aren’t Ahwaks, not like me. But I’m weak, can’t talk with them, can’t read their minds. I hear and listen, language chunks I parcel, reconstruct, force them down again, in Ahwaks this time, in Ahwaks language into their minds. People store Ahwaks words, only a few words—it’s a beginning.

People create a Creole, a midway language between theirs and mine, I continue to labor, to feed their minds. They speak Ahwaks. Soon their mother tongue is history.

The effort is great. Do I fade away? Not yet, but I need sleep. I am exhausted. Awake, I read their minds. They think they are Ahwaks. They think they are Gods of Knowledge. They are cured but mistaken. What happened in my sleep? They want to do something, but I can’t follow. I feel drowsy, and again I fall asleep.

Awake again, it’s a library. They write books, in a dark blue ink, taken from a plant which I don’t remember, which I don’t know. Their script is readable, understandable, and easy to use. Knowledge, they don’t hide. They spread it, in words, concepts and ideologies. It speaks of good as it speaks of bad. It speaks of order and Chaos, reward and punishment, life and death, hell and paradise—new concepts I don’t fully understand.

They send scrolls with emissaries. “Go!” they said. But where? I wonder. They speak of strange names, not Ahwaks. Their names are Osiris and Isis, Zeus and Hera, Enlil and Ninlil and many more. They call themselves gods, their houses pantheons, their dreams commands, and their followers slaves. No more Ahwaks, only gods this time.


A void, a blank, a nothingness follows. Is it afterlife? I hear ‘THEM’ speaking, I hear ‘THEM’ saying awful things.

“Your turn,” says one ‘THEM’

“Knowledge can’t be drunk, it must be learnt. People don’t turn into plants, they turn into ashes. One god is enough, no more gods.” Says another ‘THEM’

“Agreed.” A third ‘THEM’ concedes.

“Let’s reset the world with new rules, let’s remake it with new knowledge.” They say.

Wordless, I watch the void wrapping, gathering into a sphere, becoming unstable, exploding, making life, creating galaxies. Wordless, I watch the world forming, and I learn and keep learning; it is a new world built by knowledge, different from ancestors, different from my world. I shout aloud: “Why all this happens?”

‘THEM’ hear my thought and whisper. “We are bored Gods and we play with the knowledge we make.”

Comments

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No comments yet.

    working

    This website uses cookies

    As a user in the EEA, your approval is needed on a few things. To provide a better website experience, hubpages.com uses cookies (and other similar technologies) and may collect, process, and share personal data. Please choose which areas of our service you consent to our doing so.

    For more information on managing or withdrawing consents and how we handle data, visit our Privacy Policy at: https://hubpages.com/privacy-policy#gdpr

    Show Details
    Necessary
    HubPages Device IDThis is used to identify particular browsers or devices when the access the service, and is used for security reasons.
    LoginThis is necessary to sign in to the HubPages Service.
    Google RecaptchaThis is used to prevent bots and spam. (Privacy Policy)
    AkismetThis is used to detect comment spam. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide data on traffic to our website, all personally identifyable data is anonymized. (Privacy Policy)
    HubPages Traffic PixelThis is used to collect data on traffic to articles and other pages on our site. Unless you are signed in to a HubPages account, all personally identifiable information is anonymized.
    Amazon Web ServicesThis is a cloud services platform that we used to host our service. (Privacy Policy)
    CloudflareThis is a cloud CDN service that we use to efficiently deliver files required for our service to operate such as javascript, cascading style sheets, images, and videos. (Privacy Policy)
    Google Hosted LibrariesJavascript software libraries such as jQuery are loaded at endpoints on the googleapis.com or gstatic.com domains, for performance and efficiency reasons. (Privacy Policy)
    Features
    Google Custom SearchThis is feature allows you to search the site. (Privacy Policy)
    Google MapsSome articles have Google Maps embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    Google ChartsThis is used to display charts and graphs on articles and the author center. (Privacy Policy)
    Google AdSense Host APIThis service allows you to sign up for or associate a Google AdSense account with HubPages, so that you can earn money from ads on your articles. No data is shared unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Google YouTubeSome articles have YouTube videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    VimeoSome articles have Vimeo videos embedded in them. (Privacy Policy)
    PaypalThis is used for a registered author who enrolls in the HubPages Earnings program and requests to be paid via PayPal. No data is shared with Paypal unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook LoginYou can use this to streamline signing up for, or signing in to your Hubpages account. No data is shared with Facebook unless you engage with this feature. (Privacy Policy)
    MavenThis supports the Maven widget and search functionality. (Privacy Policy)
    Marketing
    Google AdSenseThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Google DoubleClickGoogle provides ad serving technology and runs an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Index ExchangeThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    SovrnThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Facebook AdsThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Unified Ad MarketplaceThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    AppNexusThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    OpenxThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Rubicon ProjectThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    TripleLiftThis is an ad network. (Privacy Policy)
    Say MediaWe partner with Say Media to deliver ad campaigns on our sites. (Privacy Policy)
    Remarketing PixelsWe may use remarketing pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to advertise the HubPages Service to people that have visited our sites.
    Conversion Tracking PixelsWe may use conversion tracking pixels from advertising networks such as Google AdWords, Bing Ads, and Facebook in order to identify when an advertisement has successfully resulted in the desired action, such as signing up for the HubPages Service or publishing an article on the HubPages Service.
    Statistics
    Author Google AnalyticsThis is used to provide traffic data and reports to the authors of articles on the HubPages Service. (Privacy Policy)
    ComscoreComScore is a media measurement and analytics company providing marketing data and analytics to enterprises, media and advertising agencies, and publishers. Non-consent will result in ComScore only processing obfuscated personal data. (Privacy Policy)
    Amazon Tracking PixelSome articles display amazon products as part of the Amazon Affiliate program, this pixel provides traffic statistics for those products (Privacy Policy)