CHAPTER THREE #2
“You were born for this, Em.” Faylorn grinned beneath his whiskers with nothing but pure pride for her. Even though he barely knew her.
This is damn stereotypical. Em grit her teeth. Can this get any worse?
Faylorn fished into a pocket and triumphantly held a bronze mirror out to her. It was covered in sapphires that matched his wizardly robes. “I want you to take a look at yourself.”
Em accepted the ornate mirror and peered down at her reflection. She waited for the looking glass to morph into a ghostly face or show the future, but all she saw was herself.
“What do you see?” the wizard asked.
“My face.”
“Describe it,” Faylorn said. “Use basic colors.”
“Hell no!” Em thrust the mirror back into his hands. No way was she going to think about how she looked. Stereotypical Main Characters used mirrors to describe themselves to the reader constantly. Wasn’t she just joking about that with Gair this past morning?
What does my damn physical appearance have to do with my story anyway?
She had bigger problems to deal with than caring about how she looked—like trying to find a way out of this prophecy.
“But that’s who you are,” Faylorn pushed. “You may seem plain, but on the inside, and with some makeup, you’ll be a true princess.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
Her singular, unique aspect within this plot as Main Character was the fact that she still had living parents. Even her age was a curse today: eighteen—perfect for the coming-of-age trope.
“Oh, do not fear.” Faylorn set his empty plate aside and reached into the folds of his long, disheveled robe.
Apparently, he had a lot of hidden pockets.
With a zing of metal against leather, he drew out an elaborate sword.
The golden blade flashed in the firelight, and a humming blue glow illuminated between the ancient Elven script along its length.
Em’s body rushed with a buzz, her fingers twitching in automatic response to touch the beautiful weapon. She stuffed her hands under her butt cheeks and refused to let the magical artifact develop any sort of connection to her. Magical swords were such a last-generation trope.
“This is Destiny’s Song, Reaver of Diligence.
” Faylorn held the impractical sword out to her.
Rubies strangled the hilt as much as she wanted to strangle him.
“The designated weapon of the Almighty Queen of Stars, Princess of the White Rose Valley, and Heir to the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower—which is you.”
He beamed at her again, waiting for her to take the sword.
Em surveyed the blade and shuddered. Frustrated tears burned her eyes.
She’d never hated something so much in her life.
No Great Author would want to write this bullshitry.
This kind of plotline would be performed at a Fan-fiction Club during LARP festivals, and her dreams as a hero would end in poorly selling performances.
C’mon, Em, I created you to be smarter than this.
“Take it,” Faylorn whispered. “The sword is yours.”
“Keep it.” Em cringed.
I’m not touching that damn thing.
“But it’s for the Chosen One.”
She shook her head. “Am I the one to lead the quest?”
Faylorn mixed a nod and a shrug.
“I want you to carry it for me,” she said. “I’m not associating with that… thing. And anyway, if you hide it for me, that helps keep my position as Princess of the Stars hidden if you want.”
“You mean, the Almighty Queen of Stars, Princess of the White Rose Valley, and Heir to the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower?” Faylorn smiled as he tucked the heavy blade back in the folds of his robes.
“I will protect it until you are ready to use Destiny’s Song, Reaver of Diligence, to defeat Kriqir the Living in the final fight. ”
“Living?” Em snorted. “What kind of half-ass title is that?”
“Because it reminds all who speak his cursed name, he is a truly dangerous necromancer.”
I couldn’t come up with anything better.
“Okay, so what will you do if I decide not to go on the adventure?” Em chewed on her lip. Inside, she knew this wasn’t plausible, but it never hurt to try. If she was going to be trapped in this prophecy, she would kick and scream the entire time.
“You have to,” Faylorn said, narrowing his ancient eyes. “Or Kriqir the Living will kill you.”
Fuck.
C’mon, play along. It’ll be fun.
Faylorn didn’t say anything more. Grunting, he retrieved his empty plate and hobbled into the kitchen, muttering wizard-things before calling out to her hiding mom for more taffy.
Em chewed so hard on her lip that it split and bled.
Even her failing classmates at Sanderson’s School of Main Characters had more unique opportunities compared to this bottom-of-the-barrel type of shit.
She’d seen them leave school early to chase after new adventures, their whoops and fist-bumps echoing through the old brick halls.
This isn’t fair. She glared up at the ceiling, imagining her Great Author laughing down at her.
I am. This is hilarious.
Fine. Em stood, brushing herself off. Determination burned in her belly. She would have to find a plot-twist to catch every reader’s eye, something so grand it could undo all these cliché tropes and weak-ass plot-holes. Even if she was the one to create it.
“When do we head out?” she asked.
That’s more like it.
“The sooner the better,” Faylorn said.
Em procrastinated as she packed a bag of dried foods, a blanket, and a change of clothes for the journey. She tried to stall by saying she needed to say goodbye to the camels, but neither Faylorn nor Mom was having it. Apparently, her questline just absolutely needed to start right that moment.
“The longer you take, the more adventures you miss.” Mom nudged her out the door, grinning ear-to-ear about the whole thing. No doubt, she was slightly smug that she’d been right about Em needing to just go out and try a plotline, no matter how unoriginal it was.
Em flexed her fingers around her walking stick, planted it in the dusty ground, and braced herself to leave home: her first story. It might suck-ass, but at least she’d have some practice if something more promising came along.
At least, if she survived.
Or if any Authors still wanted to write about her after it was over
With the sun in her eyes, the ocean waves smacking the cliffs in farewell, and a mentor at her side, Em’s adventure began.