//------------------------------// // Prologue - Dreams and Reality // Story: Everything You've Ever Wished For..........Right? // by Mystic Weaver //------------------------------// Everything You've Ever Wished For..........Right? I suppose, young one, I should start at the beginning of his story. Like all grand tales, the hero never knows of the part they will come to play, and neither did he. It all started with a dream, made into reality. Prologue Dreams and Reality At the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat, Sam jolted awake. Still half asleep, and momentarily forgetting where he was, he briefly wondered what cruel monster would interrupt his rather spectacular dream of fighting off a giant avocado demon with his flaming chair of righteousness. Blinking slowly, his vision steadily coming back into focus, he rubbed the crust from his eyes and looked at the heartless monster before him. Except, it wasn't a monster. Looking at the middle aged woman standing on the other side of the counter, his brain still didn't register what he was seeing at first (as it wasn't something that happened all to frequently). She was holding what appeared to be two books in her hands and continued giving him a rather unnecessary look of scorn and impatience. He could clearly hear what sounded like a foot being fervently tapped against the hardwood floor. Eventually, the cogs in his brain finally kicked in to overdrive as he stood straight up and put on a polite and apologetic smile. "Sorry about that miss," he quickly stifled a yawn, "bit of a, heh, slow day." The woman raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh, may I pay for my books now?" she replied in a patronizingly curt tone. "Right, of course." He quickly took her books, scanned them, taking her money and giving her the appropriate change; placing them in a bag while tearing off the receipt, he gave her both items back. With a strained smile he said "Sorry about the delay, thank you for shopping at Unlimited Pages, have a great day Mam." Rolling her eyes the woman briskly walked away without another word. Letting go of the forced smile, Sam slumped back into his chair. He quickly looked around the store, hoping the manager hadn't seen that little display, but breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her on the other side of the store chewing out the new kid for coming to work stoned. He couldn't exactly blame the guy, he was young, and stupid, and probably felt a bookstore was the dullest place to work in the world; so it was only natural that he felt the only way to get through the day was to be high. In fact, scanning the rest of the store Sam noticed only three, possibly four customers that were there at all. One was a man in his early thirties; their standard window shopper, only there to look at the covers but never actually buy anything. The second was an elderly woman dragging what looked to be her grandson around extolling the virtues of books compared to those devil machine pads of his (Sam assumed she met tablets). He pitied the kid, as he looked like he would rather eat a million cans of fried spinach than be there. The last person he could see however, was a frequent customer. A rather attractive (he thought so anyway) woman in her early to mid twenties with auburn hair tied up into a ponytail. She wore petite red rimmed glasses and ear buds connected to an iPod as she read a thick book in one of the guest chairs. She would come by three to four times a week in the afternoons to peruse the shelves, sit down, and read the ones she picked out and usually buy multiple books including the ones she had already read. Sam didn't know her name, but had made a game of trying to guess it. Currently he was going with "Ashley". Deciding that he'd had enough of people watching, he picked up the book he had fallen asleep reading and continued where he left off. It was a story about a woman who had been left to die by her parents as a child and forced into slavery; she was then rescued and taken in by a rather taciturn elderly man, who she later found out was a powerful sorcerer. Though refusing to do so at first, after years of pleading with the old man, he finally agreed to teach her the ways of the arcane. Sam had just gotten to the part where the two were attacked by a vengeful necromancer seeking penance for a perceived slight the old man committed in his youth. The scene was thrilling so far. Sam briefly wondered why he had fallen asleep at such a climactic moment. Unlike his drugged out co-worker (and probably half the country) Sam had always loved books from a young age. While they weren't his only interest (he loved video games as much as any other nerd) they were often times cheaper than other hobbies; and coming from a somewhat poor family, that was a huge bonus. People he had known before (as well as certain customers) often joked that print was a dying art and that digital media had and would continue to make it obsolete. In those scenarios though Sam would often be the first to point out that books didn't cost as much as a tablet; making it easier for poorer people as well as poorer countries to have an opportunity to enjoy, grow and learn from them. He would also point out that books never lost their charge, especially right in the middle of a climactic battle that ended with the combatants falling off a cliff next to a waterfall; or when you finally got to learn whether Gandalf ever casted anything but light spells. After a rather large yawn interrupted his train of thought, he recalled why he had been so tired today. He had spent hours last night in line for the latest game in a fantasy franchise he adored. A franchise that happened to be inspired (in part) by the very series of books the one he was reading came from. Sam hadn't actually gotten a chance to play it, but he was looking forward to getting home so he could dive right in. A coquettish laugh interrupted another yawn, "I always thought that book was one of the more exciting ones in the series," Startled, Sam quickly looked up at the new intruder to his space, though this one was far and away more pleasant to deal with. "though I suppose what's interesting for me isn't always the same for everyone." The girl he referred to as "Ashley" continued, holding a handful of books ranging from science textbooks, to advanced poetry, to high fantasy novels. "Uh, I...wait, what?" he responded with as much deftness as he could deliver. "Your book? It's one of my favorites. Though I have to admit they might of spent a little too long talking about the technical side of the magic system instead of just getting to the action but" she held up one of the science books she had, "I suppose I'm one to talk huh?" She ended her rambling with a smile. Tilting his head and blinking like a dog who's been asked what the answer to life the universe and everything was, his brain eventually caught up with reality. "Oh uh, right. Well I've always loved it when fantasy stories take the time to focus on the magic side of things instead of just knights and swordplay. Anyone can go out, buy a sword and learn to use it if they really want to, but Magic?" His eyes grew brighter as his speech quickened, "Magic is something that none of us can see or experience (despite what some charlatans might say). It's a force that if we had, the world would be a much more remarkable a place to live in! In fact, I've always wished I had....." He stopped himself, as he realized he was ranting; and getting dangerously close to revealing to a perfect stranger his deepest wish. Loudly clearing his throat, and pointedly ignoring the baffled look on "Ashley's" face he hurriedly grabbed all her books, scanned them as fast as possible, taking her money and giving her receipt saying "Thank you for shopping at Unlimited Pages, have a wonderful day." Giving him a wide eyed, thoroughly shocked look, she awkwardly stood there a moment and with a small wave, walked away quickly; "Uh, you too. H-hope you like the book?" she said, her pace slowly increasing until she practically ran out of the store. As counter met head, Sam mumbled "This is why I don't talk to people." Trudging down the busy street that led to his home, Sam briefly wondered why he needed a mouth when his was obviously defective. There was a very good reason he avoided most close relationships. Not because he hated people. Well, not most people anyway. The world was far too big for everyone to be kind, cordial and fair; it was just that he didn't really like to reveal too much about himself. His, beliefs, shall we say, often times colored how he acted around other people. When he was younger he had made it very clear his...........opinions, on how the world should be, why it should work like that and what could be used to do it; but as more and more people ridiculed him for it, over the years, he had learned to alter how and what he spoke to other people (even if his mouth occasionally disobeyed him). When he was in his late teens and early twenties because of constantly having to hide how he really felt, he had become bit cynical because of it; but you couldn't go through your entire life hating everything (the world was already chock full of people like that), and after twenty eight years of living, he found he much preferred looking on the positive side of things again. Though there were the rare occasions when his old self came back in full force, (usually when dealing with other cynics). For some reason though, even in instances where other people felt they were persecuted or wronged in some way or another they would became socially awkward; he never did. He knew how to talk to people, how to deal with them; he could even carry on interesting conversations that would go back and forth and keep everyone's attention. On the outside, many would say (and had said) that he was a completely kind and charming individual, many over the years having tried to become his friend; but due to his experience dealing with people finding more about him and his wishes, he never let them get too close. There was always a disconnect with what he said he felt, and what he actually felt. He was snapped out of his thoughts as he jumped, hearing a loud crash followed by someone shouting. Looking over towards the disturbance, he could see the building that had been under construction for almost a year now (judging by the current shape, he guessed it was to be a McDonald's or some other fast food place). Focusing on the yelling, he could see that someone had driven a bulldozer right through the safety fence and over the sidewalk. Rolling his eyes and silently pondering how fired the driver probably was, he continued on his way to his apartment. It wasn't the fanciest place, but it was fairly decent for someone working full time at a brick and mortar bookstore. It had all the things he really needed, bedroom, bathroom, a decent television and computer; as well as plenty of wall space for his bookshelves to store his myriad of books (mostly fantasy). As he closed the door to his place, setting his book in it's appropriate spot on the shelf, he passed by an object leaning against one of the bookcases. Looking at it, he smiled. It was easily one of his most treasured possessions, though he would be hard pressed to explain to someone why. Picking it up, he once again marveled at it. To anyone else, it was nothing more than a simple staff. But to him, it was a work of art. It was made of eastern hardwood with a dark walnut finish. Down in the middle of the staff, the wood twisted before straightening out towards the bottom. A black leather grip that served as a handhold was near the top; above the grip, copper wiring that served no function come out and wrapped its way around the staff. Embedded in epoxy at the top, was a simple calcite crystal that completed its simple look. Sam had found it in an antique shop that he just happened to visit on one of his days off. The owner had charged him seventy five dollars for it, saying he didn't even remember having the damn thing in the first place. As far as Sam was concerned, it was a steal. Ever since, he treated it with the utmost care and love. Deciding that every good wizard staff needed a name, Sam had racked his brain every so often to come up with a good one, but none of the ones he spit-balled sounded right to his ear. Bringing the end of the staff down to the ground, he pretended that the ground shook, imagining that it briefly stunned a giant manticore before taking the opportunity to aim the staff at his head and shooting a burst of brilliant blue lightning at the monstrosity. Chuckling at his own antics, he placed the staff back in it's place, and proceeded to collapse in his TV chair. Peeking at his computer, and at the brand new unopened game waiting to be installed and played, he decided he was far to exhausted to play it right now. He'd dive into it tomorrow (it being a Saturday and a day off from work) when he'd be able to play it all day long. Picking up the remote, he turned on his television and opened up Netflix. Overall, today had been an off day for him, so he needed something that could boost his spirits. Grinning, he queued up exactly what had always managed to do just that. He'd discovered the show six years ago. At first he didn't even know it existed; but after browsing some random forum posts, he saw humorous Gifs of the characters in the titular program. Skeptical, as he didn't really seem to be the intended target audience, he gave it a shot anyway. What he found, completely took him aback. The show seemed to tickle every single interest he had. It took place in a magical world that was rich with classic fantasy elements that he had grown to love. Populated with familiar creatures such as dragons, minotaurs, hydras, manticores, chimeras, to unfamiliar ones like wolves made of wood animated by some unknown dark magic; as well as sentient insectoid creatures who could take on the forms of others to drain them of their energy. Not to mention cragadiles (what ever those were). The monsters though were just the beginning. The kingdom the story took place in was ruled by two sisters; demigoddesses who controlled the very heavens themselves. The very first episode in fact, told the story of the betrayal of one of the sisters and her ultimate return for revenge. Ultimately, she reconciled with her estranged sister and began to make amends for the sins of her past. The villains were just as fascinating, from the power hungry ruler of parasitic insects, to a spirit who could rip apart the very fabric of reality and sow chaos and destruction wherever he went; they were always a treat to see rise to power and eventually defeated by the heroes of the story. All of that could absolutely have been enough for him, but that wasn't what had initially drawn him in to the show; and is not what kept him coming back week after week. It was the very first character that the show introduces to the audience. The main character of the show, the one who's adventures the audience follows throughout all of the current seasons, was a wizard. And not just any old wizard, one of the most powerful wizards in their entire world. The show begins with her predicting the return of the fallen sister, and eventually leads to her gathering new friends along the way to defeat the threat to the kingdom. Right away the character had grabbed him. From her initial belief that she didn't want nor care to have any friends whatsoever, to her adorable quirkiness and socially awkward behavior; not to mention her obsession with books that sometimes bordered on creepy. It was the type of character he could relate to, (and sometimes wished he could be). The shows main theme was also something that was very rare, not only in fantasy, but stories in general these days. Above all, the show championed camaraderie and friendship, believing that it could overcome any obstacle, tackle any foe, and bring peace and harmony back to the world. The message the show championed had grabbed his jaded mind and gave him a fantasy story that wasn't dark, or depressing and always, by the end of each episode, managed to put a smile on his face. With a contented sigh, he queued up a random episode, and sat back to enjoy his favorite show. Placing his depleted bowl of cereal in the sink, Sam stretched his arms, making several popping noises. With a satisfied groan he briefly contemplated his upcoming thirties. Choosing not to go down that particular road at the moment, he walked over to his computer and sat down with an excited air. He'd waited for this game to come out for a while now. While it was based on one of his favorite book series, it didn't have any of the same characters or plot, choosing instead to focus more the world of the novels to create an original story. Which he ultimately preferred, as it gave them more creative freedom with the license. After waiting what he was sure was an eternity squared (but was probably more likely to be 30 minutes or so) the installation process completed and he could finally dive into the game. Hearing the opening theme and seeing the title screen sent goosebumps all over his skin. This is gonna be good. After getting through the title screen and menus, it was finally time to create a character, starting with his class. Glancing over to his beloved staff he smirked. As if there was any doubt. Your other standard character classes were fine....he supposed, but none of them ever interested him. Warriors or knights were just armored strongmen who swung around a sharp piece of metal. Assassins, thieves and hunters were the same, just with the added option of using bows as well. Priests, clerics and paladins were out too, as he felt maces and hammers were just silly. They all lacked that one thing Sam was fascinated with more than anything else in the world. The one thing that, since he was a child, had always dreamed of being able to use, experience or even just see. Magic Since he was a young boy, his role models had always been fictional spell-casters. Intelligent mages who could translate their knowledge into a real world force that could be shaped, molded and weaved into powerful spells. Sam had never been all that strong as a kid (or now). Often picked on and bullied in the playground because he preferred to spend his time reading rather than running around like an idiot, the idea that he could use his smarts and quick thinking to conjure the forces of the arcane to defend himself or others was a powerful thought. When he got older, and he got to the age where other kids were expected to give up on the fanciful ideas of magic and fantasy, he never did. He wasn't delusional though. He knew full well that magic and sorcery existed only in the realms of fiction, but that never mattered to him. Being introverted and solitary by nature, he often spent his times alone coming up with scenarios involving heroism at the hands of a powerful sorcerer, himself. Finishing picking his class and customizing the look of his new character, it was time to pick a name for him. Without even a second thought, he typed in his go to name for all games he played, Mythrin Arcacia. All of the times he imagined himself as a talented wizard, for some reason he always gave himself this name. For the life of him, he couldn't remember where or when that started. He had just always used that name for his ideal alternate persona. Finished creating his new character, Sam dove right into what he was sure was going to be a great game. With a furrowed brow Sam watched the credits roll by. It was well past midnight, with the only light coming from the glowing computer screen. It......had been a good game. He supposed. Objectively speaking, it had even been a fantastic game. However, as the credits ended and the game returned to the title screen, only one thought dominated his mind. He absolutely hated this game The game-play, was phenomenal. The characters, were intricate and deep and were positively likable beyond any doubt. The story had been unbelievably complex, worthy of being a movie script, tackling deep philosophical and hard issues, never letting you go until the very end. And he loathed, every. Single. Solitary. Moment of it. Yes, impartially speaking, the story was a spectacular fantasy. But it had undeniably everything that he hated about his beloved genre. The world, the plot, everything was so unbelievably depressing. Every plot twist, every moment, every single, solitary turn the story or the world took was heartrendingly dismal and bleak. And by the conclusion of the story it all ends in one final gut wrenching tragedy that tears your heart out, and sends it into the wood chipper. He was fine with adversity. In fiction, every hero needs a tragic back-story. They need to have some challenge or great task to overcome. A test of will, a summit they need to climb, fears that have to be faced. All heroes need to struggle, they need to face down their demons (be they figurative or literal) and go up against the impossible. Ultimately though, those hardships need to be worth it. There has to be some point, an ultimate goal to reach, whether they know it at the time or not. They need a happy end to things or else all their pain, all their suffering, all the things they lost would be for nothing. Happy endings where the hero rides off into the sunset wasn't popular now a days. He understood that. Many considered it by the books or cliche. Calling it sappy and uninteresting. He could get it. Watch the same kind of ending enough times and you long for anything edgy or different. But he felt that going down that path was the antithesis of what fantasy was meant to be. To him, the whole point of fantasy was that hardships were bound to happen, That out of no where, when the harshness of reality comes crashing down; and the darkness closes in, to burn the world around you to ashes, A phoenix shall rise from them, and strike down the darkness instead, giving back to the world, that which it had thought lost. Magic Hope that the world isn't as black as it is, hope for the impossible to happen; that was why Sam got into fantasy in the first place, that was why the idea of a wizard coming in and eradicating the evils of the world had been so compelling for him; and it was because of those wishes, those beliefs, that he had been laughed at and ridiculed. Just because he believed magic could save the world. At the end of the day, as far as he cared, the wish to make the world a better place should never be seen as trite or old fashioned. It should be something celebrated and shared by all individuals, be they reader, gamer or just your average person. Taking the disc out of the tray of his computer, Sam placed the game gently back in it's box. And proceeded to violently hurl it in the nearest dumpster outside of his apartment. Sitting back in his TV chair he queued up his favorite show. A show that knew and understood the real power of magic, optimism, friendship, and happy endings. Mornings are usually the most difficult part of anyone's day. Dreams being what they are, they're often times far more interesting than the monotonous day you were likely to have at work. So when Sam's phone started blaring at him, telling him that he should probably wake up now and abandon his rematch with the avocado demon of death, he quickly contemplated the density of his phone and whether it would shatter the glass of his window, or just bounce back hitting him in the face. While his calculations said both would probably break, the number he calculated for the cost of replacing both items caused him to shuttle the project entirely. Realizing that he was doing math so early in the morning that he hadn't even had his daily fix of coffee, he begrudgingly rolled out of bed and began his morning routine. After drinking his poison, and eating a cereal he decided had far too much sugar that was safe for regular humans to consume, he left his apartment and made his way to work. The sun was out in full force, but not in an unpleasant way. Enjoying the amiable breeze, Sam wound his way through his usual route to the Unlimited Pages bookstore. In spite of his cup of coffee, his eyes were still a little heavy from staying up so late playing.....that game. Snapping to attention as a loud clattering noise overtook the street, Sam glanced to his right across the road and was only mildly surprised when he saw a bunch of rebar littered on the other-side's sidewalk. Seeing two construction workers almost coming to blows, the one who seemed to be the superior swore that if something like this ever happened again, he'd finish the job by shoving the rebar so far up the other ones......place......he could use him for the drywall reinforcement . Continuing on his way shaking his head, Sam wondered if that site had ever even seen one safety inspector. Sitting in his usual spot at the counter, Sam sat staring wide eyed at the inconceivable sight that had presented itself to him. The store was, for the first time in all the years he'd worked here, full to bursting with ravenous customers each pushing the other to be first in line. All of them, he noticed, were in between their late teens and early thirties. Studying the long line before him, he noticed they were all carrying the same type of books. Looking more closely at the book the first customer in line brought he was astonished to see a book from his favorite series of novels. The ones that game had been........................... With a suspicious glare he warily asked, "If you don't mind me asking sir, what made you pick this particular book?" afraid he already knew the answer. With a blissfully unaware smile, and obviously not noticing the death glare he was receiving, he jovially replied "This series is based on this awesome new game that just came out. After I played it, I had to go and see if the books where just as good! But I have a feeling they won't live up to it. I mean, how can a book live up to that?" If looks could kill, they'd have to ban Sam's eyes as a global threat to mankind. Five excruciating hours later, the multitude of customers had dwindled down to it's usual four or five. The only noise in the store aside from the occasional shuffling of books, was the repeated banging of Sam's head on the hardwood counter. That damn game had to go and ruin one his favorite series. If he had to hear another person say how incredible that piece of gutter trash passed off as a video game was, he'd keep banging head on this counter until nothing but a mushy pulp remained. Before he could start with the formula that would determine how long that would take, a polite cough interrupted him. "Um, are you.....are you okay?" a familiar voice tentatively asked. "Oh, just contemplating whether or not the fall of mankind is imminent. Other than that? Pretty good, all things considered. You?" he mumbled against the counter. "Oh, well, uh, hah, p-pretty good also.....as well! Or umm, ya......I'm good." a shaky voice responded. Not expecting such a response (and recognizing the voice) he glanced up and saw the Unlimited Pages most loyal patron, "Ashley" (or whatever her real name was). Realizing he had a customer on his hands; as well as remembering their last encounter, he awkwardly jumped to his feet. She was nervously biting her lip and was pointedly looking anywhere but him. "h-heh, sorry about that," running a hand through his hair, seeing her he continued, "bit of a demoralizing day." Brightening up she looked him in the eyes and smiled, though blood seemed to rush to her head and quickly looked down and started biting her lip again. Not sure how to salvage an obviously scared customer, he quickly went back into his old routine. "So, can I check out something for you?" Startled, she looked up at him, her face redder than before, "C-check out who!?" Befuddled, he tilted his head and and repeated himself "I was just asking if you had a book you wanted to check out." Face met hand as she mumbled to her self "what the hell are you doing to me brain?" As quick as a humming bird, she handed him the book and the money to pay for it. Treating her as a scared, cornered animal, Sam slowly reached forward and took the book and money; as he was Scanning the book and tallying how much it would be, she blurted out "I actually already have this book!" Stopping what he was doing, he looked at her. She was stock still and didn't seem to be breathing. "Uh, you already have this book?" he queried, He received a rapid nod followed by a squeak probably meant to be words, "I-its my favorite." Looking at the book and once again tilting his head at her, "Sooo if you already have it than, you're what........buying for someone else?" She started to shake her head but than seemed to remember something and gave him another rapid nod. Raising his eyebrows he slowly nodded head his own head, "C-cool, so, uh your change is going to be $5.43. Here you go, thank you for shopping at Unlimited Pages." He finished with an uncertain smile. Taking the book and holding it against her chest like battle armor, she gave him an uncertain smile of her own. "Thank you, I.....yes thank you, goodbye." She finished as she scurried out the door. Sam stared at the door, wondering if this day was going to get any weirder. Before he could contemplate this however, thirty seconds later, the store doors opened again and in walked the very subject of his consternation. She was holding something behind her back and seemed a lot more calm and collected. With a deep breath and a firm nod she presented the item behind her back to him. "This is for you." she said resolutely. The item in in question, was one of those pre-made gift boxes. It was blue with a beautiful gold ribbon surrounding it. Alternating between staring at her and the present, he figured out that he'd spent to long staring, as he noticed she was starting to sweat a little. Slowly reaching out, he took the gift and held it in his hands, taking note that it seemed as if he'd taken a great weight of her back. Wondering in the back of his head if this was some bizarre gag or prank, he untied the gold ribbon and opened the box. The contents of which he hadn't expected. It was the book. The very book she had bought not even a minute ago. Both eyebrows shot up as he, for the first time actually looked at the book she had purchased. It was perhaps one of the most gorgeous books he'd ever seen. It was astoundingly thick, so much so, that it seemed as if it should be far heavier than it felt, being thicker than even the most complete dictionaries. It had a leather hardback cover that was a deep blue, with gold trimmed letters for the title (in a language he couldn't read) and gilded pages that gave off a brilliant golden reflection. He also noticed it had a purple ribbon book mark as well. Looking at the cover of the book, the sparkling golden letters surrounded a shiny deep lavender magic circle. How I had I not noticed this book before? He asked himself. Thinking back, he couldn't recall what the book looked like when he scanned it, in fact, he couldn't even remember the store stocking anything like this. "....magic." Ripped from his revelry, he looked at the giver of such an astonishing gift, "What?" With a mysterious smile, she continued. "Magic. The way you talked about it with such.......fervor, such excitement and passion," with a melancholic smile she continued, "I haven't heard anyone talk like that about magic in a long, long time." With an owlish stare Sam hesitantly responded "Most don't talk about it at all...." An inscrutable laugh was her response "Maybe not here." Even more perplexed than when all this began, Sam just gazed at the book wondering what it was as he started to open it. As he did, he felt his hair on the back of his neck stand on end before a cry made him snap it shut once more. "Wait!" the gift giver exclaimed. Startled at the intensity of her voice he backed up a smidgen. Looking rather embarrassed at her outburst, she made a polite cough and tried to smile. " I mean........don't read it now. Later. When you get there." eyes going wide she quickly blurted "HOME!! Ha, Ha, w-when you get home, i-is what I meant!" With and almost manic grin, she turned and walked robotically away towards the door shouting as she left "W-Well I have to go walk the time, see you next dog!!" "Wait!!" He yelled back, reaching towards the door trying to stop her, but it was to late, she was long gone. Slowly he put his arm down and rested his hand on the lovely tome. Still staring at the door. "I wanted to ask if your name was Ashley." Collapsing in his chair, he contemplated what in Gods name had just happened. Sam sat in his chair at home. He carefully examined the strange book he'd received, twisting it this way and that, but he couldn't find the bar code anywhere on it, or even that weird sticky stuff that's left behind after you rip it off. He put it on his lap, thinking back to his bizarre encounter. While he was no idiot when it came to social interactions, for the life of him he couldn't pin down what the hell any of that was. Was she flirting with me? He pondered, but quickly dismissed the idea. Despite preconceptions about nerds, he was fairly in shape. Walking to and from work every day helped counter his sedentary lifestyle, (though he was by no means shape or form an "athlete"). His looks were apparently good too, or so he'd been told before. (He never saw what the appeal in his looks were, nor did he care to try). So being in the rare class of "pretty" nerds apparently held some cache, and as such, he had been hit on a few times before. And none of those times were anything like this. The entire encounter had just felt........off. Shaking loose his jumbling thoughts, he put that mystery to bed for now. Focusing once again the book in his lap he reached forward to open it. When he grabbed the cover to lift it however, his entire body froze. An unsettling chill rushed up his hand, going through his arm and than all throughout his body. He felt a strange foreboding penetrate the room, and an ever so subtle wrongness with what he was about to do. with Quickly pulling his hand back, the foreign feeling vanished as if it had never been there at all. Wiping the the sudden sweat from his forehead, he slowly got up, walked over to one of his bookshelves and placed the tome on an empty part of it. Walking away shaking his head he muttered, "I'm losing my mind." A few days later, his abusive friend of a phone began it's morning routine of victimizing the poor dreamer. Sam sighed, he at least got to defeat the giant avocado this time, but was rudely interrupted during the Kumquat Kings party thrown in his honor. With as much grace as he could muster, he plopped out of his bed onto the floor and began getting ready for work. As he was leaving he passed by his staff. Picking it up, he smirked as he remembered blowing up the avocado demons head with a blue ball of fire. Quickly reenacting that scene with it, he placed it back in its spot when he was done. As he passed by the bookshelf however, he stopped and looked at the gift he'd received a few days ago. He hadn't seen "Ashley" since, and he looked for her each day. He also hadn't tried to open the book again. Every time he even thought about it, the memory of that unsettling feeling came back, and he always decided not to even try. Giving the book one last glance, he headed out and locked the door behind him. As Sam made his way through the, by now, well worn path to work, he prayed to any spirit, deity or flying pasta monster that might be listening that there wouldn't be anymore rabid fans of that trash that must not be named at work today. As he wondered what a pasta god would sound like, or if it would answer any prayers that weren't Alfredo based, his train of thought was halted. Looking at the other side of the street, he could see a woman standing next to the construction site. She was wearing ear buds and bobbing heard head as she read a book she was carrying. Squinting Sam could see she had auburn hair, tied into a ponytail, and wearing red rimmed glasses. Taken aback, Sam collected himself as he raised his hand and shouted "Ashley!" When no response came he slapped his forehead, hard. Ears burning, he muttered sarcastically "Great job calling a girl by a name you made up for up for her. Your a freakin' genius, you idiot!" Before he could decide how to get her attention however, his world stopped. Across the street, a shadow had descended upon the unsuspecting woman. Hearing a loud noise from above, Sam Looked up, and his blood ran as cold as ice. A giant steel girder was dangling from a crane, with one of the cables holding it up having already snapped. Without thinking, Sam bolted forward, racing across the street. His lungs burned, struggling to breath as he simultaneously tried to get enough oxygen to fuel his dash, and scream any words he could think of to get her attention. A loud honking followed by a screeching sound came as he felt his world tumble from underneath him. His vision dazed, he looked up as finally "Ashley" looked in his direction. He looked up, as the final cable holding The Sword of Damocles snapped. All of time seemed to slow down. Sam struggled on the ground as he desperately tried to get up, while frantically pointing her in the direction of her incoming demise. Finally, she looked up. And Time sped up again. Sam sat at the checkout counter in the Unlimited Pages bookstore. No customers were there, but he wouldn't notice if there were anyway. Head buried in his hands, he fought violently to stop the shaking. Every time he thought back to the day before yesterday, his trembling doubled. It was the scream. That was the worst part. As long as he lived, he.............he would never be able to forget that scream. He doubled over fighting back the urge to vomit. The manager walked over, putting her hand on his shoulder she spoke softly, "maybe you should go home and get some rest. Take the next week off." Not responding, he staggered to his feet and gave what could be interpreted as a vague nod. Using the wall as support, he made his way to the door and left. Like a dazed and confused zombie, he haltingly made his way home. Without realizing what he was doing however, he once again found himself in front of the now shut down construction site. Looking down, he could see the faded blood stains the workers had probably tried desperately to wash off. As his trembling redoubled, he sat down and pulled his knees into a tight ball, fighting desperately against the urge to vomit as he stared at the grisly mark. She had survived. Somehow, someway, she had survived. Barely. After the.........scream, Sam rushed over to her, vision still spinning after his run in with the car. The steel girder had pinned her legs underneath it. And miraculously (though Sam didn't think so) she was still conscious. Her hair was messy and her glasses were still on her though they were cracked. Coughing up blood she blearily looked around her till she saw Sam, and smiled. "h-hey the-" loud coughing sounds interrupted her. Swallowing what was most likely her own blood she continued, "hey t-there." Tears streaming down his face, and trying with every fiber of his being not to throw up at the sight, he forced on the best possible smile he could, as he breathily replied, "H-hey yourse-" a sob escaped his throat as he swallowed his currently dry throat,"Hey yourself." Her smile brightened before looking around. "well, I-" she took a tumultuous breath and sighed, "I certainly didn't plan for this," she said with a feeble laugh. Another strangled sob as Sam tried desperately to think of something to say. Grabbing her bloodied hand, he gently placed it between both of his and said with a very forced casual banter, "You know, all this time I've never know your name. Y-you came to the store practically every day and yet I never found it out. In-" swallowing again, "In fact I had made a little game of it. Every day I'd come up with a new name for you. First it was Christie, than Sarah, followed by Felecia and Mary, then Alexandra and so on and so on. C-currently, I had settled on Ashley." Looking up, despite how mangled she looked, she practically glowed. Giving an unusually pain free laugh she said with a smile "that's a beautiful name......" her eyes started to drift closed. Panicked, Sam shook her, saying "no no no no! You h-have to stay awake, alright! I mean-" Looking around frantically he continued "I mean I never..........got to find out! What's your real name? Bet it isn't as good as Ashley, right!?" As she lost her fight with consciousness, and her eyes drifted closed with a smile on her face she mumbled, " My name....is....Harm-" and finally passed out. Trembling to his very core, Sam started to move his hand haltingly up to her neck. Pushing two of his fingers to her throat and closing his eyes he waited. And for the longest two seconds of his entire life, he made another prayer to whoever would listen, that he would feel a heartbeat.........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................thump-thump........................thump-thump..............................thump-thump. With a strangled cry of relief mixed with a wet sob, he put his forehead to hers and cried harder than he'd ever had in his entire life. Shortly afterwards, the paramedics and fire department arrived; the driver had who had hit Sam having called 911. The next several hours where a blur. He remembered them cutting the girder off what was left of her legs. He recalled following the paramedics, asking if she was going to be okay. Responding that the injuries looked worse they were, and despite appearances, she hadn't lost too much blood, they said as long as they got her to the hospital in time she would most likely survive (though probably without being able to use her legs anymore). Trying to climb into the ambulance with her they said that unless he was family he'd have to stay and let them do their jobs. Reluctantly, he complied. He vaguely remembered being questioned by the police, telling them what happened, and them asking if he wanted to press charges against the driver that hit him. Replying with a vehement no, they went to question other witnesses and cordon off the area. The day after that had almost been as bad as the last. Sam spent hours upon hours looking for the hospital that they had taken her to. But every single one of them told him that there was no one that matched her physical description and injuries. The third hospital he went to offered to look her up in their database to see if other hospitals had a patient matching his description of her; however, when they said that there was no place in the entire city that had a patient like that, Sam began shouting at them, demanding to know how in the hell they could just lose a patient. After that, he was encouraged to leave the premises by multiple security guards (many of whom could take quite a punch). After that, he continued to visit every hospital in the city; and with each one giving him the same answers, he began to fear the worst. Beginning to believe she might have......................... Defeated, he had trudged back home, and collapsed into his bed. His dream that night was incredibly vivid. He was back on the street were it happened. Everything was the same. The Falling girder, the blood curdling scream, all of it. This time however, he was fast enough to get to her in time, pushing her out of the way before the beam pinned his legs instead. The next morning, he woke with a smile, which quickly faded when he realized it had only been a dream. Slowly closing the door to his apartment, his shakes having subsided, he shambled over to his TV chair and collapsed in it. Shutting his eyes, all he could hear was that petrifying scream. Gripping the chair he violently shook his head and tried to put his mind on anything but the accident. Looking around he saw his TV remote. Hoping it would boost his wavering spirits, he opened his Netflix queue and popped on a random episode of his favorite show. The story of this episode centered around the once fallen Night goddess sister. In it, it's revealed that she had created a parasitic nightmare monster to infect her own dreams and give herself nightmares; to punish herself for her past transgressions. The demon however, escaped her own dreams and started to affect her own citizens, only adding to the demigoddesses pain and guilt. Ultimately, after an epic battle in the ever-shifting dream world, the heroes discover that the only way to defeat the nightmare demon is to get the goddess to forgive herself. Not willing to do so at first, as she felt she wasn't worthy of forgiveness, her friends convinced her that she was in fact worthy as they, and all of the kingdom, had long ago forgiven her; knowing full well she wasn't the monster she had once been. As the credits rolled, Sam shut off the television. Forgiving yourself Is that what I need to do? he thought. He thought back to the episode he'd just watched. While he wasn't quite at the point of wanting to summon a demon to torment him for the rest of his life, he still felt responsible for what happened. He knew there was no rational reason to feel this way. He had done all he could to try and save her. But that was the point. He had wanted to help her, to rescue her; to stop the tragedy before it even happened. Gritting his teeth, he thought back to that moment of truth. Seeing that tower of steel crush down upon her, seeing all the blood, the look on her face, all of it; and all he could do was hold her hand, and hope everything would be okay. Pounding his fist against his knee, a trickle of blood fell from his mouth as his teeth clamped on his bottom lip. I was powerless! I couldn't do anything! I had to sit there and watch as I lied through my teeth to a dying girl, pretending that everything was going to be okay! His wave of rage and surge of adrenaline slowly faded. Loosening his fist, he slowly put his head back against the chair. Drained, he absentmindedly scanned his book shelves, and the myriad of novels they contained. They all told stories of heroism. Tales of people who suffer through tragedy and come out all the stronger for it. Overcoming great peril and sorrow, they eventually use there power to vanquish the darkness and put right all the things that had gone wrong. Standing up, he slowly walked over and ran his hand across the spines of his collection. For all the similarities these stories had, there was one thing that, above all else, that was the same. The one thing that bound them together. A power that that would always arrive to save the day. Magic Walking over to his staff, he held it gingerly and gazed at it. He'd thought about it. Dreamed about it. Wished for it. All his life, he had molded himself in the belief that if magic existed, the world could be made into a better place. A place where there was no grief, no strife; and everyone had a bright shining smile on their faces, living blissfully unaware that there had ever existed a time when the world was any dimmer than the shinning utopia they had known all their lives. A deep sigh escaped his lips. If he'd had magic, if he was a powerful sorcerer, right now a bright faced innocent young woman would be walking home, reading the latest book in her favorite fantasy series. Closing his eyes, placing both hands on his staff and putting the crystal against his head, he made a wish. A wish that had been made by him countless times in his life; but for the first time, this desire came from somewhere deep inside his soul. His heart, mind and body cried out together in unison for the first time, and made what was quite possibly, the most powerful wish this world had ever seen. I wish I had magic. As Sam held the crystal against his forehead, he heard a strange noise. Opening his eyes, he looked around his apartment. Not seeing anything, he almost dismissed it. Moving to put the staff back in it's place; he then heard the same noise again, though this time, he recognized the sound........it was a voice. Looking towards the point of origin, he was shocked to discover that the source of the sound of the voice was coming from the staff itself. It was very faint, but the sound of a strangely familiar voice spoke to him. The time has come Briefly wondering if the past few days had finally made him snap, he leaned an ear forward to try to make out what it was saying, I call out to you unnamed staff; Bring to our world, the one with the will, to change it. The only word he could make out was staff. Before he could lean in further to try and hear more however, the crystal in the staff started glowing a flaming bright yellowish orange, as it started shaking violently. Tightening his grip on it, Sam struggled to hold on; as it flailed him about, sending books flying, breaking his electronics and toppling his shelves. The whole of the staff started crackling with a sparkling blue electricity as his body started to glow the same color before Sam felt himself being stretch and twisted, than everything went black. The apartment went still. Bookcases, a television, as well as countless books were scattered everywhere; waiting for the apartments owner to clean the mess up. But he never would. The stars twinkled in the night sky as they continued watch over all of creation. The pale blank moon cast it's loving light across the denizens of the world as they slumbered, trying to silently assure them that everything would be all right. A cool gently wafting breeze made it's way through the dormant farming town. All was silent and peaceful; in fact it was easily, the most spectacular night the tiny village had seen in years. And Bronzed Berry absolutely hated it. The pony in question bore a coat of deep navy blue with a fading yellow mane. He was average in height, and despite his slowly advancing age, he bore muscles that only came from countless years toiling on a berry farm. As Bronze berry walked through the middle of town with his trusty rake draped across his back (the one he used for picking up the berry's he our any of his family members trampled on). The metal part of the tool next to the cutie mark of his namesake kept scratching at him but he had long ago learned to ignore it. He eventually reached the end of the road. Groaning, he begrudgingly turned around, and once again made his slow march through town. He knew he had no right to complain. Complainers were a waste of everyone's time, and there was never any room for it on a farm. Keeping that in mind though, he still lamented is current fate. Sure, it may have "technically" been his turn for the night watch; and of course he knew it was one of the most important rotating duties of the townsfolk. The world was a cruel, and harsh place to live in. And at no time was it any more dangerous than at night; under the cover of darkness, night was the perfect chance for a whole manner of horrors and monstrosities to attack a completely unsuspecting village. Of course, he knew and understood all of that. Of course, OF COURSE. But it didn't stop him from loathing it. Bronzed Berry was an Earth pony, a farmer. The only thing he had ever been good at, was making the best berries in all of Equis. An undeniable fact he couldn't be prouder of. The last thing he wanted to do was become a soldier and go off to join those winged birds in the shape of ponies. He had never even really been in a fight, and wouldn't have the slightest clue on what to do or how he'd react. With another agitated grunt, he looked towards the sky. The moon was still in it's zenith, which meant it would be hours before the Unicorn tribe lowered it and he could get some much deserved rest. Damn spike head's. Can't they cut me some slack, and hurry dawn up already? Before he could rant about the uselessness of unicorns however, his hooves were kicked out from under him as, with a deafening CRACK, a searing streak of energetic blue lightning came striking down from the cloudless sky a few feet behind him, sending him, and a cloud of rubble flying forwards. Coughing up dust and shaking dirt and pebbles out of his mane, Bronzed Berry fought against the pounding of his head and the loud ringing in his ears. Slowly standing up, he tried to peer through the cloud of dust to see what had sent him flying farther than a farmers hoof to a varmints face. Seeing a bright blue pulsating glow, Bronzed squinted as the dust cleared. Where the lightning had struck, in its place, floating a few feet from the ground was a giant.......well........a giant flaming ball of fire. Hesitantly, Bronzed carefully got as close as he dared for fear of being reduced to ashes. The golden orb of fire flickered and shifted, twisting and expanding than slowly receding almost as if were alive, as if it was.......breathing. Slowly, the the fire shifted from a blinding gold, to a cool comforting blue. As it did, it started to contract, almost seeming to sigh as it gently began to change shape. After finishing its bizarre metamorphosis, an azure figure, glowing dimly before the light started to fade and in it's place, stood a creature the likes of which, Bronzed nor this entire world had ever seen before. Bronzed gawked at the strange being before him. His brain almost seemed to be working on automatic as it studied the creature. It looked hairless. Mostly hairless anyway. It seemed to have very small patches of fine brown fur on its arms and......claws, as well as a big tuft of brown fur on top. The parts of its skin that weren't covered with fur had a light peach quality to it. It seamed lean in musculature but still generally fit. Then Bronze's brain took note of something else. It wasn't naked. The creature was wearing clothes, and not just any clothes either. It looked like something those hoity toity pointy heads would wear to compensate for their lack of a backbone. It was a deep black robe that almost blended into the dark of night. Trimmed across the edge of the sleeves, skirt and pulled back hood were what resembled billowing golden flames, that out of the corner of your eyes, one might say were moving. Flowing from the flames were intricate patterns that ran all around the robe and resembled the azure color the orb of fire had briefly taken before disappearing. A dark blue belt held the robe tight, its design resembling that of a electricity making its way around the waist to the buckle bearing a curious star that had a circle running around it. On the left side of the belt, a large deep blue tome with fancy inscriptions was strapped to its hip. Transitioning from clothing, the farmer shifted his gaze to the object in the creatures right claw. It was a staff, made out of some type of dark wood with a twist near the middle. Above some kind of black material (that seemed to be currently functioning as a claw hold), the very tip of the staff had a simple yellow crystal embedded in it. Bronzed Berry's brain, despite having only been used solely for the purpose of growing and harvesting berries of all kinds up until now, processed all this information in a matter of seconds. During his introspective research, the being before him was frantically looking around. Darting its head this way and that, its bright purple eyes taking in everything, from the buildings around him, the small crater he was in, to his staff and the strange clothes he was wearing. Then, unfortunately, his gaze fell upon Bronzed Berry. As it did, its jaw went slack and its eyes went as wide as they possibly could. The following minute, nothing made the slightest peep. If someone at that particular moment dropped a pin, anyone around would have shouted at them to keep it down. As the two contradictory beings stood stone still gawking at each other, they proceeded to have, what many experts and historians still to this very day agree, to be the single most important, world changing, staring contest of all time. Seeming to recover first, the creature straightened its self out. Looking incredibly unsure how to proceed, it reached its left claw towards Bronzed Berry and said "Hello?" That being the proverbial final piece of wood holding the barn up, it was pulled out, and it all came crashing down. A loud, almost feminine scream pierced the night as whatever spell had held him in place for so long broke and Bronzed Berry fled like his flank was on fire and his life depended on it (which as far as was concerned, it probably was). Crashing through an empty fruit stand, the farmer dropped his forgotten rake, leaving it in the shambled remains of the cart. Not that he even noticed, the farmer turned Night Watch had only one thing on his mind. The bell Feeling what he was sure were that claws of that terrifying lightning-fire demon, his speed doubled as he made his way to the middle of the village where the towns Emergency Bell lay. The rest of his mind was a panic induced haze. So he focused on the one thing that mattered. His duty. He had to warn the town, he had to get them to rally against this denizen of Tartarus and drive it back from whence it came. If he didn't make it to the bell, the town he'd lived in all his life......would be destroyed. Ducking and dodging the stones being thrown at him, Sam sprinted as fast as he could away from the town, glancing only briefly at the glowing horde composed of torches, angry shouting, and pitch forks behind him. Seeing a forest up ahead, he veered to the right and dove into the wooded trees, continuing his marathon for another ten minutes, before realizing that the dull roaring of the mob had long since disappeared. Gasping for air, he slowed his sprint to a brisk jog, then a walk, followed by him collapsing against a nearby tree. Feebly, he folded himself into a ball and held his staff against himself like a shield, almost instinctively hoping it would protect him somehow. That guy was a..............they all were.........and they almost....... He looked around, What happened to me? Why did my staff glow like that? And WHY AM I WEARING A FREAKING ROBE!!! The question of where he was however, never entered his mind. Sam had never really been that slow on the uptake. Judging by what he had seen, he was in......................closing his eyes, he felt the pain in his legs, the burning of his lungs, and his body shaking from near exhaustion. Just to be safe though he pinched his cheeks, HARD. I'm not having a nightmare. Opening his eyes, he put his hand on the dirt ground next to him, testing the solidity of it. It was as solid as a rock. Tearing off a piece of bark from the tree he had his back against, he tried chewing on it only to spit it out at the expected taste of wood and splinters. I'm not crazy either. Though confirming that didn't ease him in the slightest. If this wasn't some surreal nightmare and he hadn't finally boarded the last bus to cuckoo town, then that left only one, inescapable truth. He was in a fantasy world that couldn't be real. In a land that shouldn't exist. In a world populated by sentient creatures of all shapes and sizes. A world governed by magic. Somehow.... Someway.... He was in his favorite show. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic He looked up at through the leaves and branches at the starry sky peaking through. "I'm in Equestria."