DISCLAIMER: The author's imagination and passion are the only sources of inspiration for this novel, which is a work of dedication. Parallels between these pages and the past or present may be apparent to some readers, but they are completely coincidental. You are free to interpret this art anyway you see fit, and it is meant for your enjoyment.
The world above turned into a battlefield of static and ink as Samantha disappeared into the library's depths. Once a thriving center of study, the Academy was now a decaying stronghold of reality encircled by an emptiness.
The smell of burning paper filled the air outside in the courtyard. Dyierrean and Giywon were just hanging on. Their hands were burned where they held the Editor's burning, ink-stained robes as they engaged in a physical and spiritual conflict.
"You are fighting for a draft that has already been discarded," the editor scoffed. Even when Dyierrean's violet flames licked at his throat, his expression remained composed. "Look at your students. They are fading. They were never meant to be more than background noise."
"Then listen to the noise!" yelled Eyldion.
The "Side-Characters"—the common-born students, the disgraced knights, and the marketplace orphans Samantha had dragged into the light—leaped into action from the balconies and the broken windows.
They lacked Giywon's or Dyierrean's "Main Character" magic, but they did have Collective Narrative, which the Editor had overlooked. Their stories were important, as Samantha had taught them.
"Formation Alpha!" Eyldion gave the order.
The Editor was not directly attacked by the students. Rather, they raised their magical pens and formed a circle around the courtyard. They started writing. On the Academy's actual stones, not in the air. They penned their names. Their dreams were written down. They wrote down the names of their beloved siblings as well as the recipes for the bread they prepared.
The Editor's golden ink started to falter. At the gates, the white emptiness shrank. The side-characters were producing "Static"—noise that was difficult for the Editor's quill to replace—by claiming their own existence.
Eyldion said, "Keep writing!" as his own arm began to flicker. "If we stay visible, he can't delete the scene!"
Samantha climbed a spiral stairway that appeared to be composed of solidified shadows, deep beneath the library. The white humming of the nothingness subsided as she descended, to be replaced by a deep, old quiet.
She came to a huge petrified wood door. It wasn't secured. She touched it, and it opened to reveal a modest little study. With a wooden desk, an antiquated typewriter, and thousands of crumpled balls of paper scattered across the floor, it resembled a writer's room from the present era.
A woman who bore no resemblance to the Editor sat in the chair. She was elderly, with eyes full of the sorrow of a thousand tragic endings and a kind, weary face.
"You're the Original Author," Samantha muttered.
The elderly woman added, "I am the one who dreamt this world into being," in a voice that sounded like autumn leaves rustling. "But I grew old, and I let my 'Editor' take over. I wanted the story to be perfect. I didn't realize that to him, 'perfect' meant predictable."
Samantha moved over to the desk. She noticed the "Original Script" of the Summer Gala in the middle of the paper. She saw the line where she was meant to die and her own name, Reinn Hylde.
"He's deleting everyone, ma'am," Samantha stated in a broken voice. "Giywon, Dyierrean, my brother... they're fading because they're protecting me."
The author stated, "The Editor believes the story is about the ending," gesturing to a stack of rumpled papers. "But the story is about the characters. You, Samantha, are the first character who ever talked back to the pen. You didn't just change the plot; you changed the genre."
She got up and gave her a basic little inkwell. It was a deep, honest darkness instead of glowing with golden brightness.
"This is the Ink of Free Will," she declared. "The Editor's quill can only write what must happen. This ink writes what can happen. But be warned: if you use it, you are no longer a character in a book. You will be responsible for every heartbeat, every storm, and every tear in this world. You will become its guardian."
The inkwell was taken by Samantha. It was heavier than a mountain.
"I just wanted a quiet life," she sobbed while laughing.
"The quietest lives are often the hardest to write," the author retorted. "Go now. Your dragon and your wolf are almost at their final line."
Samantha started to walk away, but she stopped herself. She gave the author a look. "What happens to you if I change the ending?"
The elderly woman grinned as her body started to transform into a gentle, white glow. "I finally get to read something I haven't written myself. I've been waiting for a long time for a good sequel."
The situation was bad back in the courtyard. Dyierrean was a torso of violet vapor, still holding the Editor's arm, and his legs had entirely disappeared. Giywon's face was coated in the grey ash of erasure, and his golden aura had faded to a dim flicker.
The Editor held up his Phoenix Quill. "Enough of this rebellion. EXTERMINATUS."
The quill started to fall, a line of golden light that would eventually blot out the Academy.
"STOP."
The word was not derived from a spell. It originated in the air.
Samantha emerged from the library. Her flickering had stopped. She was stronger than the rocks under her feet. She had a plain quill dipped in the Ink of Free Will in her hand.
She didn't strike. All she had to do was move to the middle of the courtyard and draw a single, strong line between the Editor and her warriors.
The line was not glowing. The Editor's gold light was unable to penetrate the vast, permanent gap that remained black.
"The story is over, Editor," Samantha declared, a calm, chilling authority burning in her gaze. "I'm taking over the revisions."
Horrified, the Editor gazed at the black line. "That ink... It's forbidden! You're destroying the narrative!"
"No," Samantha said as she approached Giywon and Dyierrean, instantly cementing them with her touch. "I'm finishing the first draft. And the first thing I'm doing is deleting you."