"We are the Authors of our Own Fate,
So long as we Allow the Penman to Dictate
To our Freewill, and thus be in Compliance."

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A #WRITCO Mystery
(Enigma, thank you for the Inspiration)

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I AM
A
WRITER

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"Somewhere in the dust of forgotten tombs and the whispers of ancient civilizations, lies the truth," I murmur to myself, echoing the words of Stephen King. I am Sa'an Karha, an archaeologist of the page, my quill dipped in the ink of forgotten epochs. My books, a testament to the whispers of time, have a peculiar knack for resonating with readers in ways I never intend. You see, I don't just write about the past; I pull it into the present, a thread of reality woven through my words.

My phone buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts. It's another email from a reader, praising my latest release, "Bones of the Earth," but something about this message feels... off. The sender, Lucas Devereux, speaks of a discovery that could redefine human history. My heart races. This isn't the first time my stories have stirred the sediment of the past.

I glance around my cluttered study, the walls adorned with maps and artifacts, a silent testament to my obsession. The scent of aged paper and ink fills the room, mingling with the aroma of the exotic...