Chapter 23 Development
Mercer Village shifted into view as reality blurred into focus. Em’s insides stretched and sloshed as she solidified back together. Her swaying companions moaned around her, green-cheeked.
Gair dashed toward a bush along the porch of the Long Rest Tavern, vomiting into the dirt.
“You need to stop doing that to him,” Roden grumbled to Em, massaging his own temples.
“It’s much more efficient than walking for days on end,” she retorted.
“This is a quest,” the half-elf growled. “The whole goal is to bask in the adventure along the way; it’s not just about getting to the destination. I thought you were top of your class at Sanderson, princess. Didn’t you ever have a course on the Hero’s Journey?”
“Fair enough.”
“I need a stiff drink,” Sasha muttered. The dryad marched into Long Rest without waiting for the others’ replies, disappearing into the chaotic scene inside. A bard sang amongst the tightly packed bodies, while the smoky and alcoholic air seeped past the closing doors.
Polo followed hot on her heels. “Wait up, Sasha! I want to get drunk with you!”
Gair collapsed onto the tavern steps, groaning as he hugged his stomach. “I need a minute,” he muttered to no one in particular.
Roden and Em regarded one another for an awkward second.
“What do you intend to…write?” the half-elf cleared his throat.
“Collecting a few new Side Characters to expand our party wouldn’t hurt,” Em considered, skimming the pages of her journal. The words describing her crazy day flipped between her fingers. “Maybe we should set out to a lesser-known realm to try something new.”
“We need to kill Kriqir the Living,” Roden said. “Not take on Side Quests.”
“We haven’t heard from him or his orcs in days,” Em waved the half-elf’s words away. “And once the prophecy is completed, the story ends. I need to revise everything, so the plot becomes original before we reach the damn climax.”
“You’re just delaying the inevitable,” Roden growled.
“I’m trying to fucking save us,” Em pushed. “To save you.”
“Like I’ve said before, princess, I don’t need saving.” Roden pushed past her and disappeared into the Long Rest Tavern without another word. The clomp of his heavy boots against the wooden porch was harsh as his stormy attitude.
Em let out a deep breath to steady herself. Eventually, the others would come to understand and respect her reasoning. They just had to adjust to her new mélange of powers. No doubt, their tropes were resisting her attempts at editing them.
She settled beside Gair on the steps, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry for the teleportation,” she rubbed his back. “I didn’t know time jumps made you sick.”
“It’s okay.” The dragon mutant moaned, clearly not meaning what he said.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you since the Fae ball,” Em went on. Possessing Inky gave her a new sense of confidence, and she desperately needed to get this conversation over with. The sooner she could get a fresh start with her friends’ tropes, the easier it would be to fix her plotline.
Gair’s head perked up. “Oh?”
“I know we kissed and all,” Em’s heart raced as the words poured out. There was no turning back now. “But I need to make sure you understand that I’m not ready for a serious relationship right now.”
His expression drained to a blank.
She dropped her hand off his broad back. “I need to make sure we are on the same page before we continue this quest together.”
He just stared at her a moment longer. “I gave up everything for you.”
“I didn’t ask for that…”
“Are you saying this because you aren’t ready? Or is it because you now possess the magic to do whatever you want to me and avoid any conflict while automatically getting your way?” Gair snapped.
“Excuse me?” Em blinked, taken aback by his sudden harshness. “What the hell, Gair?”
“You heard me.” Venom dripped from his tone. “You sneak off to the FOURTH WALL, suddenly become a Great Author, and then decide I’m not worth it anymore to you?”
“There never was an us,” Em tried to explain. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, but I never had any feelings for you. You’re just my best friend, and I’m not ready to try for anything more than that.”
“Not willing or not interested?” Gair demanded.
“Both?” Em’s voice squeaked.
He got up, brushing himself off. His aquamarine eyes shot daggers down at her. “Well, forgive me for being unable to provide what you need.”
“Gair, it’s not that…”
“Then what is it?” He snapped. “Because you’ve pushed me away repeatedly this whole questline.
All I wanted was to become closer to you.
To deepen the awesome relationship we’ve created over the past few years.
But the only reason you can give me for the rejection is because romance interferes with your precious originality. ”
“Well, it does!” Em jumped to her feet, squaring up to him. “This story is everything to me! My whole damn life depends on it.”
“Even though you’re a literal Great Author and can make the book into however you want now? You don’t even consider trying to make us potentially work?” Gair sniffed. “You hold the power to pick and choose your tropes, Em. But you’re so determined to shove everything aside that gets in your way.”
“I don’t want a relationship,” Em said.
“No.” Gair turned away, his back to her, arms crossed. “You just don’t want me.”
“Is that so bad?” she demanded.
“You’re my world, Em,” Gair’s honey-sweet voice cracked. If she could see his face, no doubt, she’d see his welling eyes. “You have been my everything for a long time. You’re just too selfish to see or care about anything other than yourself.”
“I just want you to be original…” Em began.
“You only want that because it benefits you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Don’t lie to me!” Gair reeled on her again, eyes aflame.
Em stumbled back, heart sinking.
“You’re so determined to change this story that you won’t even try to enjoy anything you already have!” Gair shouted. “You won’t even take the time to acknowledge me unless you get something out of it from me.”
“Gair, that’s not…”
“Just stop, Em. Please.” He slumped, wiping the tears from his cheeks.
Gair marched toward the tavern doors, seconds away from disappearing into the crowds inside.
For a brief second, he glanced back at her, a shadow of regret casting across his face.
“You can do whatever you want to your story, just from now on, keep me out of it.”
Shit. Em’s knees locked in place. She should’ve run in after him. Apologized. Begged for forgiveness. Maybe even kissed him and asked for a second chance. Instead, she just stood there staring at the swaying tavern doors as he left, throat clenching with all the things she wished she could’ve said.
“Would you like me to delete Gair’s character from the plotline?” Inky asked cheerfully, startling her.
“What?” Em pried open her journal, the glittery pen caught between the binding. “Fuck. No, don’t do that.”
“Alright,” Inky sang, oblivious to her panic. “How about I reset the scene so you can revise the argument to your favor?”
Temptation pricked at Em for a brief second, but she bottled it away.
“No, leave it.” Em let out a regretful, deep breath. “He’ll be okay once he cools off.”
I hope.
“Would you like to assess and discuss the emotional discourse you are processing right now as a rejected protagonist?” Inky asked.
“Hell, no.”
“What can I do to assist you then?” Inky sang out brightly. “Your confidence levels are sinking rapidly, alerting me you’re on track to fall into a state of imposter syndrome, which may affect the results of your writing over the next few sequences.”
“I need you to tell me the best location to pick up some more Secondary Characters.” Em said. “Having a mentor would honestly be nice again. Let alone some fresh eyes and opinions to lighten the mood of the party.”
“According to my calculations, the Larian Community College of Secondary Characters is about a day’s journey away from your location in Mercer Village,” Inky said. “Would you like me to plot a course for your party?”
“Sure.” Em begrudgingly went to find the others inside the Long Rest Tavern and Inn.
The door clicked shut behind her, and instant silence swept across the room. Everyone’s suspicious stares locked on her. Even the Tiefling bard’s fingers hovered mid-pluck over her lute.
“Hey!” The bartender, Rex, pointed accusingly at her from across the dining room. “We don’t serve your kind in here.”
“Excuse me?” Em blinked, checking to make sure no one else had slipped in behind her.
“You heard me,” the gruff bartender, who’d served her the margarita not more than a few nights ago, said. “We’re a protagonist and guild party tavern only. We don’t serve villains.”
“Except, I’m not a villain,” Em argued, wrinkling her nose. “I’m a Main Character. See? My eyes are green. I’m literally a Chosen One.”
“It’s okay, she’s with me!” Sasha jumped to her feet from her seat in the middle of the room, revealing where the others huddled together while nursing mugs of ale.
“I don’t care who she’s with, she’s not allowed in here,” Rex snapped. “I don’t make the rules. Nor can I change them.”
I can change them. Em’s fingers itched to grab Inky and rewrite the awkward sequence.
Nearby barbarians and paladins rested their hands on their weapon hilts, suspicious eyes narrowing.
I could undo all of this.
Roden’s violet glare challenged her across the tavern. Like he was just waiting for her to prove him right—that she’d change the smallest thing to her advantage. That she would be as selfish as he expected her to be.
“She’s not a villain,” Sasha argued on, deepening Em’s simmering guilt.
“Don’t worry about it,” Em tried.
“If she’s disrupted an adventure or did anything to harm a fellow party member, she’s a villain enough in these parts,” Rex interrupted. “And like I said, I can’t change the guild rules.”
“Alright.” Em reddened under the weight of everyone’s expectant stares. She held her hands up in defeat. “I’ll see myself out.”