Showdown Read Online Free PDF

others.
    â€œPeace, my dear students, is the gateway to harmony,” Raul said, his eyes still on Billy. “It is also the gateway to destruction. War and peace. Darcy, remind us of our first rule in writing.”
    â€œWrite an extraordinary story that will leave your reader gasping,” the pretty brunette said, taking liberty in paraphrasing the rules as they were all encouraged to do.
    The four rules of writing were as familiar to the students as milk was to a baby.
    1.Write to discover.
    2. There is no greater discovery than love.
    3. All love comes from the Creator.
    4.Write what you will.
    The rules reflected the students’ purpose in their studies, certainly, but even more so in their lives as a whole. They were often encouraged to substitute the word live for the word write . Live to discover, as long as discovery leads to a love that comes from the Creator. One could only write what one knew, because to write well one must know well, as the teachers said, and to know well you must live well. None of the students’ other classes made much sense without writing, because in this monastery, writing was the mirror of life.
    Billy glanced at Darcy and saw that she looked his way. He winked at her. You leave me gasping . She smiled and he turned back to Raul, hoping the teacher hadn’t caught the exchange.
    â€œThat’s right,” Raul said. “Forget the foolish notion that there are really only a handful of stories to be told. Write new stories and new characters, embarking on grand, unique journeys with twists and turns that will leave the reader wondering.”
    The overseer paused.“Now does that sound like peace? Twists and turns and gasping? Not really, does it?”
    Except for the water’s gurgling, the room fell silent. Students who were gazing at the lifelike murals surrounding the room brought their focus back to Raul. Billy felt a small twinge of excitement at the base of his neck.
    â€œHow can there be peace unless there is first conflict?” Raul dropped the statement like a small seed into the freshly tilled ground of thirty-seven young minds.
    â€œHear, hear,” one of the students said. “We could use a little more twisting and turning around here.”
    Several chuckled.
    A boy to Billy’s left cleared his throat, and a dozen heads turned his way. The blond-haired boy with blue eyes had long ago earned the right to be heard. At thirteen Samuel was perhaps the most accomplished student in the monastery. Besides Billy, of course. They could both discuss most subjects with any teacher on any day and do it well. At one time Billy would have considered Samuel his best friend. Birds of a feather flock together, as the old cliché said. Until a month ago.
    â€œOr how can there be conflict unless there is first peace?” Samuel returned in a light, polite voice. “We’ve always known that peace precedes conflict, that conflict disturbs the discovery of love, which is the heart of the second rule.”
    Approval rumbled through the class.
    â€œVery good, Samuel.” Raul stroked his chin. “But how can you write about peace or love unless you first subject the reader to ugly conflict? Wouldn’t you minimize peace by minimizing conflict?”
    â€œUnless the reader begins with the knowledge of peace. Why should we demonstrate peace through conflict if the reader already knows peace?”
    Raul nodded. “But wouldn’t you want to heighten the reader’s understanding of peace by drawing him into conflict?”
    â€œConflict can just as easily compromise peace as amplify it,” Samuel said.
    The two volleyed as if in a tennis match. Though Raul was four times Samuel’s elder, the boy was no ordinary thirteen-year-old. Like the rest of them, he had never been beyond the monastery’s walls, where the world waited with all of its compromise. They’d been sequestered their whole lives, learning of