Why Western Civilization? William Bennett

In the chapter Why Western Civilization William Bennett explains why we should still study and defend Western Civilization. His three main points are that one Western Civilization is ours. It is where we live, it is what has produced the social structure in which we now live. Two, that Western Civilization is Good. It isn't always, and wasn't always good but, it has produced the most just and effective system of government. Lastly He states that we should study, live, and defend Western Civilization because it is under attack but is better then any alternative.

In reading this chapter I must say I fully agree with William Bennet. I believe he is correct that we need to defend and live Western Civilization. It is what is responsible for the creation of the United States, which as he states isn't always perfect and wasn't always "Good" but it has become such because of the social, political, and cultural freedoms that created it. Those same freedoms have the power of continuing to evolve and change Western Culture until it is good. All other systems of Government rely on the leaders and the leaders alone to develop goodness. It is true that the best and most effect form of government is a dictatorship, however, dictators are rarely ever good natured men. They do not care for their people, nor for minority groups. If we could always have good and righteous men be our Dictators it would be good, sadly that is no possible. Western Civilization is the answer to that problem. It allows for many to keep the government from growing to large. Large government restricts and reduces freedom no matter how you look at it. Less government means more freedom. More government means less freedom.

Chapter 1

***Chapter 1 - Fall from Honor***

Kier woke to the sounds of his fathers camp preparing to march. Lazy motes of dust drifted through the morning light coming from the smoke hole in his tent. He rose quickly, slinging his spear and javelins from his shoulder and buckling on his belt with a hatchet on one hip and a dagger on the other. He left his tent, emerging in the bright morning light.
The camp was alive with activity, apprentices running to and fro, wives and mothers gathering children, and patriarchs calling families to follow. Kier quickly struck his ten and packed it in a tight roll that he tied to his waste. He strode through the camp looking for his father and the rest of his family.
“There you are Kier, I was worried I might have to send Valandir to wake you!” His father shouted as he walked towards his family. Everyone was already there, his younger brother Valandir, his two younger sisters Lanna and Tiara, and his fair mother, Aria.
“The winds are speaking Kier, We must travel north, into the deep plains. the wind has spoken.” Zara, Kier’s Father continued. “Find Herron. He will tell you were to scout with your squad.”
Kier nodded and strode off to find Herron. he found him caring a load of weapons among the organized chaos of the camp.
“Move you dirt rats! Move!” Herron yelled as a group of kids ran in front and around him. They quickly darted away from Herron as he shook his fist at one that laughed the loudest. “Kier, go and find Tristan, Dorrek, and the rest of your squad and start to move north, I want you to be the forward scouts on this march.”
“Where are we heading?” Kier asked as he picked up a bundle of half finished weapons and helped an apprentice blacksmith wrap them tightly.
“North, that’s all I know, Just head north. Now get going, Zaran wants the camp moving before the sun reaches it’s zenith.
“As you say, Herron, but why are we finally moving?” Kier responded.
“It is the same as it always is, We sit for a time, then we move...I know Zaran, your father, has been somewhat....erratic lately, yet it isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last. The winds are restless Kier. Fear not, your father will not lead us false.”
Kier nodded in agreement, He believed in his father, he didn’t doubt the wind had spoken. He was only curious. With the last of the weapons tied into bundles Kier left to find the rest of his squad.

Kier moved swiftly though the tall grass. He was well ahead of the main body of the Rana Zin Kal’Zaran. It had been a quiet day. Nothing to note. Not even week old tracks of another clan. Some Rissa Tracks heading in the same direction as them. Those would be good hunting, good supplies too. They would also lead them to whatever they were following and hunting. He stopped at a fresh track and bent low, getting a closer look. The track had three front pads a large center pad and one rear pad. The track was fresh, only a day or so old. It was a Rissa track, and a large one at that. The cats on average could grow to be 6 feet long and three to four feet at the shoulder. They were large and powerful beats, and such a joy to hunt a smile came to Kier’s lips as he thought of the last Rissa pack he had hunted. To his left he heard a small chirping noise, like that of a baby Taru. It was Dorrek, Kier mimicked the sound perfectly. Three short chirps followed by a long rattle. Dorrek’s head poked through the grass.
“Anything to report?” he asked as his body followed his head, coming completely into the small game trail cutting through the seven foot grassland.
“Nothing exciting, only Rissa trails, and a few Ulat tracks, exciting things ahead, but for now all is quiet.” Kier answered as he stood up. “Is there anything from any of the other scouts?”
“Tristan found an old burnt out Alician camp, I have never heard of them coming this deep into the plains before, Bold of them. Perhaps they will wish to trade if we find them, perhaps they will be hostile and we will shed their pitiful blood.” a small smile crept up on Dorrek’s lips.
He enjoyed pointless blood shed all too much in Kier’s opinion. Kier believed in the glory of battle just as much as the next man, but butchering a group of Alicians who had wondered into the plains was not glorious. They were a slow, laggard people defeating them was hardly an accomplishment. Dorrek took Kier’s lack of response as cowardice.
“What scared of a few Alicians, Kier?” He asked with a smirk. “I know you have yet to receive your first Tattoo, but I hear that is what the wind seeks for you.”
“Hardly Dorrek, and if this move is that we might obtain my Tattoo, then so be it. That does nothing to change that I think killing Alicians is simple butchery.”

Dorrek barked a laugh.

"Say as you wish Kier, I'll believe you when you accomplish your task." Dorrek said as he turned and walked back into the grass.
Kier stood up and kept running north looking for tracks from other clans, or animals. Dorreks words weighed heavy on his mind. Was this so that Kier might have his rite of passage and that he might receive his first tattoos? Which would he choose? Runes of air, earth, or plasma? Of strength, wisdom, or power? It was the biggest decision an admarian had to make. What tattoos to take upon your token day. Kier knew he would be adept with plasma. It was where his natural ability was, however, that didn’t mean he had to choose a plasma tattoo. The tattoos allowed you to use whatever element you wanted, not only those you were already attuned to.

The rest of the day was just as uneventful. No new tracks, no sight of any Alicians, or any other Admarian clan, just the wind, a few clouds, the sun, and the dust of the plains. After another four hours of constant running Herron appeared, telling Kier that they would be stopping in a dry river bed, just an hour or so north. Zaran had requested that Kier would be the forward post, and should set up directly to the north just east of the large rock formation that they would find. Herron promised that Kier would know which formation when he reached it.

The scouts were spred out in a wide ring to protect against any attacks as the camp settled down in the small clearing. There was a large rock formation on the left of the camp, a dry river bed running along at it's base. It was impossible to miss, this was the area that Zaran had seen and requested that they stop at. Water could be still found from digging in river bed, and that is exactly what the clan would do. Foot steps approached from behind. The foot falls heavy, Kier spun to see his father, Zaran approaching. Kier sat at the top of a small rock cropping, looking north. "Yes father?" Kier said as his father crested the small hill. He took a crystal from his pouch
about a hand long and a thumb wide in the middle, and handed it to Kier "The winds have spoken, there is a dragon in this part of the land." Zaran answered voice solum and even. "You will travel east, find the spike maned dragon slay it and capture it's blood within this crystal. Return it to me and you will receive your first tattoo."
Kier took the crystal from his father and put it in a pouch tied to his belt. It was a rare crystal that grew deep in the plains, they could absorb a dragon’s blood. Admarians had tried to use the crystals to hold other liquids and even other types of blood, but they would only react to and hold Dragon blood. Dragon’s blood held the key to magical power, no one knew why dragons, the beats they were held such a powerful gift, but they did. The blood of a dragon allowed one to imbue their bodies with the powers of the earth. Admarians had also tried tattoos in the same language for years but nothing would create the power except if the ink was of dragons blood.
“Father, why did you choose ‘The Wisdom of the Wind’ as your first tattoo?”
“I was the last son of the High Patriarch, It was the tattoo that my father had taken first. My brothers had all taken runes of speed, or strength. I decided to follow in the steps of our father.”
“Yes, but... The Listener of the clan doesn’t need to be the son of the last. You are a powerful warrior father, and could have been more powerful then any other if you had taken a tattoo of power.”
“Perhaps you are right Kier, and yet, Wisdom is power too, I command the armies of our clan, a power greater then any stone skin, wild fire, wind striker, water dancer, or any kind of solitary warrior wields. Your first Tattoo will be yours Kier and whatever you choose is between you and the gods. You will know when you’re time comes what is right for you to choose.”
Kier nodded as he looked to the east, where his destiny lay.
“I will return in 3 moons with the crystal filled with the blood of a dragon.” Kier said, then turned away from his father and ran towards the setting sun.

Kier stopped after a brief run, looking back he could still see the faint shape of the rock formation his clan was next to, small pin pricks of light flicking marked cookfires within the camp. It was just past dusk, a faint orange light still on the horizon. Kier had yet to see any sign of a dragon, not that he had expected to, It was probably at least a days journey away. He would continue to travel until the high moon, then sleep until the next morning. This is it He thought as he picked up his pace again. I have been chosen to fight and kill a full grown dragon on my own. To obtain my Tattoo. “What should I get?” Kier said aloud to the night sky. The eyes of God looking down upon him. The Tattoos of the Admarian people where their greatest treasures. The basic Tattoos were broken into two sets, those for knowledge and those for power. One would allow the user to hear and know the mind of the chosen state of mater, the other the ability to alter the users physical form and take on the properties of a state of mater. The amount of blood for one tattoo was astounding, although they called it your “first tattoo” it was usually your last. A very small amount of Admarians got a second tattoo, and it was almost unheard of for someone to get a third. The Dragons were already a scarcely seen race. There must have been hundreds of thousands of Dragons in the days of the Dragon Knights, the Ancient rulers of the world. It was said that one of them commanded the power of an entire clan. Kier had always felt he would take on the tattoo of a Stone Skin. The power of the Earth, of solids is a powerful thing in a fight. The most powerful if you used it right Kier thought as he continued to run. His long legs carrying him across the land scape quickly and easily.

Kier awoke the next morning to the sun peaking over the horizon far to the west. The weak morning light still allowing the stars to shine in the heaven. Keir crawled out of the small brush that he had climbed under for the night. He yawned and stretched his neck and arms. His breakfast consisted of some dried meat and berries, he ate as he walked. Heading east once again.

Soon he began to see signs of a dragon, Trees and brush torn, large claw tracks, and gouges from its tail. The tracks where fresh, the trees sap still sticky and clear. The dragon would be close, it probably already knew he was close. Dragons, although they were only beasts, were very smart, in fact they were incredibly smart. They were the reason that some people thought they were to revered and it was evil and devilish to kill dragons to harvest their blood. People like the Druids of the plains, he heard there were also groups among the Alicians that thought that as well. Kier heard a thrashing sound to his left. Kier moved quickly, peaking though the sparse trees. The Dragon was fighting off a pack of Rissa, the five animals slowly circled the larger animal. The large cats had large talon like claws on their front feet and large teeth. The dragon was wounded by the pack and was obviously enraged. It let out a large roar at the same time a Rissa attacked from behind. The dragon threw its tail into the leaping Rissa, throwing its body through the air and into another Rissa. The Rissa looked as if they had had enough of this fight, deciding their pray was to much trouble for the meat. They turned and ran abandoning their intent.

Kier sat watching the dragon as it inspected his minor wounds. Kier could tell it was male by the large black spikes around its neck. The dragon shook its head, letting out a rumbling growl. Kier took a deep breath and pulled out a long javelin, it was in perfect range. He stepped from behind a tree, and threw the javelin sending it soring though the air. The dragons head whipped around; it must have heard Kier release the javelin. Dragons had extremely good hearing. It jumped back with a powerful beat of its wings, the javelin falling short. Kier ran as fast as he could to close the distance between him and his pray, another javelin held ready. He jumped from the top of a small rock and threw, the javelin heading straight for the dragon’s chest. This time the dragon was too slow, as it went to move left the javelin took it in the right breast. It screamed in furry, clawing at his chest. The dragon dislodged the javelin, breaking it and letting it fall to the ground. Kier pulled out his spear and fell into a battle stance. The Dragon looked at him wearily, slowly circling him on all four legs. It snapped out, testing Kier’s resolve. Kier didn’t back down, or flinch. Dragons were proud creatures, half the battle was intimidation. It growled again as it jumped into the air, swiping with its claws as Kier rolled out of reach. Kier stabbed at a scaled hand and scored a hit, cutting into the dragons flesh, the bright red blood ran down its hand; every drop a precious treasure. Kier would need to end this quickly, he couldn't afford to weaken the dragon letting it bleed slowly. He charged in, stabbing with his spear at the wound in the dragon’s chest. The dragon reared up on his hind legs using its claws to block and deflect Kiers attack. The dragon jumped into the air with another powerful beat of his wings and started to growl. Kier jumped back, suddenly alarmed, the growls, scrapes, and clicks the dragon was making almost sounded... Intelligent. There was a definite pattern to the sounds. The dragons strange speaking suddenly stopped and the Dragon let out an ear splitting roar. A column of spittle erupting from his mouth. The spittle burst into flame a few feet from the dragons mouth, bathing the ground in liquid fire. Kier turned and ran for the cover of a small rock, jumping behind it just as the fire consumed it. The heat was unbearable. The rock barely gave Kier enough cover, he could smell his hair burning. His clothing was singed. How could the Dragon breath fire? That is just a myth. This can’t be happening, Dragons don’t breath fire, fly, or do any sort of magic. The Fire cut off, the rock and the ground around it was chard, and smoking. Kier raised his head looking back at the dragon, it sat again on all fours, Kier looked into its eyes. The seemed to be pleased, even... happy. If a dragon could be said to have emotion. Kier what are you thinking? Get a grip, its a dragon, a beast, nothing more. It only thinks about survival, it isn’t intelligent. Yet, it just cast a spell... It cause its own spittle to burst into flame. The dragon let out another string of growling, and clicking. Kier ducked behind the rock again, but nothing came, nothing happened. Kier grabbed his last javelin, took a deep breath and charged out from behind the rock. The dragon looked almost surprised as Kier charged toward him. He threw his javelin, then came in close to try again to stab the Dragon. It jumped back, slapping away the javelin with its wing and again started talking in the strange language. This time as it stopped the dragon’s scales started to gray, turning to stone. Kier jumped, landed on top of a large rock and jumped again. He sored through the air, the dragon reached out its neck, opening its jaws. Kier stabbed. His spear rammed into the eye of the dragon the only soft tissue left exposed. The thrust wasn’t strait and the dragons stone skin deflected the spear from entering the brain. The dragon recoiled screaming in pain, its eye a bloodied mess. Kier was struck by a powerful forearm, he felt his ribs crack and was thrown to the ground. He felt the bone in his leg give way as he tumbled, pain shooting through his body. He rolled to a stop and all went black.

*****

The sun set bright red the night that Kier left to claim the life of a dragon, and receive his first Tattoo. The camp was quite, it was no secret that Kier had left, there was no doubt that he would return. No one in known history had failed to kill a dragon and return, using the blood to obtain their first tattoo. Valandir looked at the eyes of God, wondering how long it would be until he too, could claim the blood of a Dragon and gain his Tattoo. Kier often spoke of taking a Plasma tattoo as his first. Valandir felt he would take a Wisdom of Wind, like his father, or Earth. The earth listeners knew much that others could only guess at, the best trackers and seekers that could be found were earth listeners. The Wind listeners were excellent trackers as well, but not as good as the earth. Winds moved to much, every moving and changing. They knew what passed less reliably then stone and dust.

Valandir was still deep in his musing about the uses of knowledge and wisdom in a fight over the use for brute force when he came upon his mother Aria and Lanna his older sister and Tiara the youngest. Tiara looked up and a wide grin broke her face. “Oh good Valandir! You can help us finish preparing these roots!” she said excitedly. Lanna scoffed, “Like that would happen.” she said pealing the thick skin off a large root. “You know he must have other duties to attend to in the camp.”
“No it is alright, I can help you, Father released me from any duties to contemplate the mission of Kier, and what my decisions will be when I go to claim my Tattoo.”
“And?” His mother asked, prodding.
“And, although Kier has never decided exactly what Tattoo to take, I think he will choose one to effect him physically. I see why he would and I think it is a noble choice, for one of his ability and stature. However, I feel that when the time comes, I will choose the Tattoo of an Earth Wisdom.”
“There is great power in wisdom, and in action. Indecision is the only true lack of power.” Aria said, peeling back the skin on another large root. She started to slice it into smaller pieces preparing it to be baked in a stone oven.
Lanna lifted her head from her work “You wont be a warrior like Kier?”
“As Mother says Lanna, Power comes in different ways. Kier is a powerful warrior, he has trained since he could walk in the ways of war. He will lead us to many great victories, and yet, is that the only true power?” Valandir questioned, looking to his mother.
She shook her head, “It is not, look at your father, is he not a manifestation of power? Does he not lead this clan and not through wars and battles, but through intrigue and wisdom? There is no shame in winning a battle without drawing blood, without ending life.”
Valandir smiled at his mothers words, He had feared that he would look weak taking on a tattoo of Wisdom. His brother Kier was said to be the finest warrior in the clan, and yet many hinted that Valandir had an ability in war even greater then him. He feared that others would say he was timid and had a weak stomach because he chose not to be at the front of battles. Yet, his mothers words soothed those fears and worries. He knew Kier would likely support him in his decision.

“Valandir, Wake up!!” His Sisters voice called, the level of urgency caused Valandir to sit up.
“What?” he shouted, jumping up from his sleeping pad and quickly dressing. He stepped from his tent and was startled by the look on Tiaras face.
“Two scouts came running back shouting that Dragons are coming!” Tiara screeched pointing east. The two scouts were still running through the camp, towards Zarans tent. Shouting at the top of their lungs. The camp was a mass of motion. Men running and gathering spears and armor. Woman gathering children, afternoon cook fires forgotten.
Dragons? attacking us? Dragons didn’t travel in groups, and they didn’t attack people, these scouts must be mistaken. Valandir thought as he his gathered weapons and armor.
“Find Mother and Lanna, stay with them Tiara, I dont know what is going on, but stay hidden.”
She nodded her head, turned and dashed away, towards the cooking tents near the center of camp.

“What is going on Father?” Valandir asked as he pulled back the flap of his tent, stepping inside.
It was crowded with his father, the two scouts and Herron already inside.
“Valandir! good your awake. Gather with the others and prepare for the attack.”
“Attack?! There really are Dragons coming? more than one?!”
“Yes, I want you to gather the troops and prepare them for the fight.”
“What is coming? what are we facing?” Valandir asked, taking a step forward.
One of the scouts turned, “There was two full grown spike mained dragons, four wyrms, and six or so Runners.”
Valandir turned from the tent, running as fast as he could to gather warriors.
Two dragons and lesser dragon kin attacking a human tribe? what is going on Valandir thought as he ran through the camp. Dragons were solitary beats they only met with another dragon to mate and that only for a brief time.
“Prepare, an enemy comes!” Valandir shouted, “Women and Children to the center tents, the camp is under attack. Move!!”

Soon a group of thirty warriors were running with Valandir, each holding a javelin ready in one hand and two in the other. They had battle spears across their backs. A large dragon, scales reflecting sunlight like polished bronze, rested on a small hill to the north. Another dragon walked up behind the first. Its scales as bright as the first. One let out a loud roar as five, then seven runners came over the hill. They moved quickly across the flat ground.

“Ready!” Valandir yelled, the warriors already in motion, setting up a line and preparing to throw. The Runners came within range and the warriors released. They jumped and dodged among the falling javelins, a few getting hit but only one falling to the ground, a javelin piercing its neck. Valandir and his companions released another wave of javelins, again they fell among the runners. Not a single one falling. The warriors broke their line and fell into formations of four members; each had their battle spears out. The runners closed the distance, soon the ground was crimson with the blood of human and dragonkin alike. Four large wyrms descended on the battle field; they landed with large thuds throwing dust into the air. Flying dragon kin!? Valandir thought as one Wyrm swiped with his claws. Valandir ducked and rolled under the attack, another warrior next to him was to slow. The claws ripped through his armor, spaying the air with a find mist and throwing his dead body across the battle field. Valandir came up from his roll, driving his spear towards the large wyrm. Just as his spear came close the beasts skin turned to stone, his spear bounced off, leaving a large scratch but nothing more. A Runner jumped on Valandir, its claws digging into his chest and back. Valandir turned, falling to the ground, he could feel his the claws tearing at his flesh, his blood soaking into his clothing. He rolled, pulling a dagger from his belt, he rammed it into the runners throat. It snapped at his neck and head, its teeth ripping his ear open as it convulsed and died. Valandir rolled the body off his and looked around the battlefield. The runners were all dead or dying, and one of the wyrms, the other three were fighting fiercely. There were ten warriors still standing, and two of those bore wounds that would never heal. Were were the dragons? Valandir thought looking towards the hill where they had been, it was empty. His eyes whipped to the camp as he pulled him self to his knees. The camp was an orange blaze, the tents all alight. The two large dragons flew overhead. Fire raining down in liquid drops, burning all they touched. There were some people still fighting inside, some throwing water on the tents others casting javelins at the dragons flying above.

“Tiara!!” Zaran yelled as fire consumed his daughter. She let out a brief scream, her figure crumbling to the ground. Zaran turned away from the fire, concentrating on the air around him. Valandir was wounded, he could see it in his minds eye, hear the wind speak it. The dragon to the east, the one missing an eye, it had been attacked by Kier. Kier had fallen? Zaran thought, What is happening? Dragons don’t breath fire! or fly! What trickery, what evil was at work! Zaran concentrated on the air around him, feeling his second tattoo, “Soul of the Wind” burn on his flesh. He felt the wind enter into his being, and started to float, to take to the winds, his body becoming it, it becoming his body. He was undone, his wife clawed before his eyes, His sons bloodied and slain, his daughters turned to ash. He took to the skies, a spear in his hand. A dragon turned taking notice of him, walking in the sky. It quickly turned, letting out a roar as it sped towards him. Zaran cast his spear at the dragon, it easily pushed aside the attack with its stone skinned arm. Its teeth sunk into Zaran, burning and searing his flesh even as the tore it open. He was undone, he was undone, the wind ceased to stir.

Valandir felt something stir within his blood, he felt thin, his face pale, somewhere a stone held. He turned, three more warriors were down, the wyrms were pressing the attack. Valandir looked again to the camp, one of the dragons was coming towards him, a column of fire below him. It landed a short distance away, the fire cutting off. slowly it walked towards Valandir, slowly, knowingly, it looked at Valandir with one bright gold eye. The other was gone, dried blood and torn flesh still tracing the empty socket. It opened its maw and spittle sprayed forth, it burst, flashing red, yellow and orange as it consumed Valandir. He screamed, cutting off abruptly as the fire died. The stone was black and char.
The war continued, the clan was lost, its members slain never to run along the plains again.

***End Chapter 1***