Chapter 23 Development #2
“And don’t come back!” someone else in the tavern shouted. She made sure to flip off their general direction.
Em scurried out of the Long Rest Tavern, struggling to find air to breathe.
The heat of everyone’s glares was imprinted into her mind as she collapsed back on the steps.
Rex’s accusation of her becoming a villain drilled into her.
Except, all she’d done was steal back her trope-filled story from Stephanie.
There was no way in all of Novella where becoming her own Great Author would qualify her as an antagonist suddenly.
Em pulled Inky back out, twirling the pen in thought. “Am I the villain now?”
“According to my calculations, you are still the Main Character of this story,” the pen responded happily.
Thank Novella. Em let out a sigh of relief.
“However,” Inky sang on. “You are on track to reach a developmental breaking point if you don’t return the quest to its proper plotline. The predestined ending cannot be changed, and the story’s consequences will begin to harm you if you get in its way.”
“Can I change that?” Em’s throat clenched.
“Not unless you’d like to rewrite and erase some previous interactions.
While you are considered the current author of this plotline, you are unable to go against the predetermined timeline for this book unless you partake in major revisions,” Inky said cheerfully.
“Which, unfortunately, would affect you as much as it would your Side Characters.”
Em chewed her lip until it split. Salty blood filled her mouth.
Temptation to erase everything crept into her. Except, she knew if she got rid of the previous tropes she’d endured, the purpose of her stealing her story back fell flat. She was at a standstill.
Shit.
“Inky, do you have access to the timeline of upcoming scenes?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, I cannot disclose that information to anyone other than the Great Author Stephanie Sawyer,” Inky sang, much to her demise. “The planning documentation for this story is kept in a locked, undisclosed tab that I do not have access to.”
“So, I can’t change the end of this shitty story?” Em demanded.
“You cannot. The prophecy is set,” Inky said. “However, you can alter the course it takes to get to the climax. If you’d like, I can give recommendations on original sequences and tensions to undertake to strengthen the ultimate resolve of the novel.”
Okay, I can do this. Em blew out a puff of air. I can work with this.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Sasha’s voice cut in.
The dryad towered over Em, arms crossed, and eyebrows knit together with concern.
Her amber eyes were clouded over, alerting Em that the dryad had succeeded in downing a stiff drink or two.
She let out a squeaky hiccup. “Need me to kill Rex for insulting you?”
“No, it’s fine. “Em cracked a weak smile as her friend dropped onto the creaky step beside her. She slipped Inky back into her journal. “I’m just lost in thought.”
“Well, Author Em… how do you want your story to go?” Sasha slapped her on the back, hiccupping again. “You actually flipping did it! You genius human girl you; you proved me wrong and outsmarted a Great Author. What’s the first thing on your agenda as a newborn goddess?”
“Oh, I’m not…”
“Don’t undermine yourself.” Sasha clicked her tongue in warning. “That’s cliché.”
“Fine,” Em huffed.
“Make the pen thing do something,” the dryad slurred. “Let’s test out your new powers as an author, huh? See what your limitations are now that you’re the boss?”
Em thought of how she’d teleported her party into various locations and that whatever she wrote or erased within her book happened at will. Grinning, she doodled a small rain cloud with a few droplets along the margins of her journal.
In a flash, a cumulus boiled into the sky overhead.
Gloominess stretched across the heavens.
With a few light plucks on the cracked streets, rain began to fall.
The faintest roll of gentle thunder swept over Mercer Village.
Nearby pedestrians and merchants let out complaints before scuffling inside various shops or homes.
Em couldn’t help but laugh. She craned her neck toward the humid skies, letting the cool droplets flick across her cheeks and run along the underside of her chin.
“See what I mean?” Sasha motioned to the altered climate around them. “A literal goddess.”
“I don’t know if I want this kind of power.” Em shuddered, snapping the journal shut.
“Why not?”
“What if I chose something… wrong?” Em grit her teeth. “What if I write something that hurts someone else?”
“Sweetheart, people are gonna get hurt. It’s a story.
It happens. Especially, hopefully, for the wimpy necromancer and his stupid orcs,” Sasha said, waving Em’s concerns away.
Her drunken confidence helped soothe out some of the anxiety welling in Em’s chest. “Besides, if you stay grounded and make decisions based on everyone else’s consent, nothing will go wrong. ”
“I hope you’re right,” Em said.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Inky called out, muffled between the pages. “But it appears, according to my recent informational input on our current scenario, that we are under attack.”
If on cue, a blood-chilling scream cut through the air.