A Tale That Dawned [Book 4 of Selvina's Tale series]

Chapter 30: End of Wonderland

Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong.

The Writer frantically scratched his quill across the page, jotting down precise orders that could not be ignored. And yet, they were not followed. What was worse, whatever he wrote vanished away within seconds. Controlling the actions of any being by writing into their Life Story also sapped him of energy and spirit but he didn't feel any weaker.

"I've written into this book enough to kill me," he muttered to himself, his eyes darting all over and his mind struggling to come up with a conclusion. "Why do I yet live and why does the writing disappear?"

The Writer took a step back from the open book resting on his desk and pondered deeply. His subject, the Black Knight, was not obeying him. Yet, how could he when the orders could not be given? Something was preventing his ink from remaining on the page. He had tried writing on other pages within the book but they all yielded the same results. It was not the book banishing his ink.

Gazing down at the pages, The Writer read the book's final entry.

So strong. I run from them, all those beasts and creatures watching me struggle. Curse them all. Kill them all. I must find Selvina. The magic is ever so strong. I can barely move. I enter the skull. I see the lid. I can sense the portal below. I can sense Selvina's presence. I must find Selvina. She was here. She may yet still be. I must find her. I must find Selvina.

I crack the lid apart with my sword. It crumbles easily. I must find Selvina. The magic is so strong. I feel it seeping through my armour. It holds me. It wants me. I must find Selvina. Blue light. It leads far below. I cannot see the bottom. I feel strange. The magic is clinging, grabbing, stabbing, piercing, clawing. I leap. I must find Selvina.

"That must be it, then," The Writer said, his lips pursing tightly and his eyes narrowing. "Wonderland. I should have known."

In ages past, Wonderland had been created by the gods as a land of experiments and trials. When the elemental gods had been young they practiced their gifts of creation in a land set apart from the rest. If something went wrong, the rest of their precious world would be unaffected. In the end, when they felt skilled enough to create what would become Faeryum and the rest of the world, they buried their spare world beneath the real one. The world of mistakes, abominations, chaos, and utter nonsense was left behind to fend for itself. Over time, a measure of control was established, though it continued to be a pale shadow of the real world, something forever foreign, exotic, and dream-like. Wonderland beings had no books in The Writer's halls, their Life Stories hidden elsewhere in their own world. The world within a world was closed off to The Writer, beyond his control and safe, at least from him.

But now the Black Knight was there.

The Writer was mostly displeased with the news but all was not lost. Once the Black Knight reduced Wonderland to ash, it would return. Once it did, its orders could be given.

The Writer grinned, walking out of his study and down the passages to the Hall of Life, where his innumerable bookshelves held the Life Story of each and every sentient being in all of Faeryum. Even for him it was impossible to glance at them all, let alone read them. Many lives would begin and end without him ever knowing they had ever existed. The Writer, powerful as he was, was no god, though he was certain even they would have difficulty reading everyone's lives. No being could be so omnipotent, could they?

He walked a path he had walked often and stopped before a favorite book of his, gazing down at the pages. His smile widened. There she was. After all this searching, he had finally found her.

Selvina.

Not of this world, Selvina had no Life Story in his hall and thus hers could not be read. The Writer could only read about how her life affected those of others. He had read a mention of her in the bounty hunter Artemian's Life Story. He had then read several other mentions of her in others. Knowing that he could not search every book in the hall, he focused on the stories of Faeryum's most influential figures. King Midas had seen her but at the time The Writer had not been searching for her. King Charming or Sultan Ali Baba had seen nothing. He had not chosen to read King Arthur's Life Story for Selvina had taken a ship west from Midae, taking her away from Avalon, and thus making her chances of seeing him nonexistent.