Okay, let's get real.
This was strange—but also sort of amazing.
I was in my own book. My universe. All I saw around me, from the sunny hills to the quiet whisper of the trees, belonged to me—created by me in a flurry of caffeine-fueled brilliance. I could actually hear the voice of 2 AM-me, clacking away frantically, shouting, "This is going to be an amazing plot twist!"
And now I was experiencing it. My characters? Not yet. But I was.
I sprang to my feet—well, I attempted to, but almost fell over my tunic. Seriously, who came up with this? It was a glorified pillowcase. But nonetheless, I was too occupied to worry about it. I was in my book, and I had a golden chance to sabotage my own story.
With all the excitement of somebody who has just realized they can make the laws of the universe warp to their command (or at least, their narrative), I began strolling around, observing the landscape as if on a holiday tour of my own fantasy.
The trees were. honestly, a bit too grand. Like, someone needs to dial it back on the mystical feels. I hadn't intended for them to have glittery leaves, but now that I was here, I decided it was my duty to appreciate them.
I spun around in a slow circle, looking over the things I'd made. There was the forest where the hero would eventually have his defining battle with the villain. There, in the distance, the ruins of an ancient temple where I'd—at least in my head—planned a spectacular showdown. And way off, over the hills, was a kingdom I'd designed to be a kingdom of hope, a shining beacon of light that would eventually. yeah, probably fall to ruin.
As I gazed in awe at all of it, a realization struck me. If this was my universe, then I must have some sort of power, mustn't I? I mean, I wrote magic into it. Why wouldn't I be able to use it?
I concentrated, picturing that familiar rush of energy I'd created for my characters. You know, that moment when they finally receive their powers after some particularly dramatic scene where they're going to die and then—poof—plot armor.
Nothing.
"Come on," I grumbled. "This is my book. I should have something."
So, I attempted it again. I pictured something that I'd done in a twist in the plot—like, perhaps I had accidentally granted my main character the power to control shadows. Dark magic! Oooo. Scary. Awesome. So awesome.
"Shadow manipulation," I murmured under my breath, rolling my hands around in the air like I was casting magic. If I could picture it, it had to work, right?
And then. something did happen.
There was a chill in the air.
The ground beneath me shivered.
And suddenly, the shadows around me came alive—writhing like they had a mind of their own.
I froze.
"What the actual—"
Before I could think, the shadows wrapped around my ankles, rising up my legs like a puff of smoke. They felt. strange. Dark. Alien. Like they were pulling on my very essence, racing my heart. I tried to move back, but the shadows kept pace with me, coiling around my arms, suspending me in mid-air in a soft but unnerving grip.
Not what I was thinking.
This was. darker than I'd expected. Much darker.
I tried to breathe. This wasn't supposed to be. I'd given the hero these powers, not me.
"Uh… I didn't ask for this," I said, flailing a little bit, hoping the shadows would just chill already. "Can I. cancel this power? Please?"
The shadows didn't hear me. They just swirled around me, stroking my skin like a thousand fingers.
"Okay, okay!" I raised my hands. "I understand. I'm strong now. But can we tone it down a notch? Perhaps add some sparkles or glitter? You know, make it not so creepy?"
The shadows didn't listen. They hissed like a hundred whispers, and a chill of cold, odd energy washed through my body, like the darkness was an extension of me.
.Well. This was not planned.
"I suppose I'm the bad guy now," I told nobody in general. "Terrific. Just terrific. I always wanted to be the 'reluctant dark queen' of my own fairy tale. Now, I can officially cross that off my list."
I squirmed my fingers, attempting to get some kind of control back. The darkness receded gradually, curling around me like a slow smoke ring.
And then, after a second, the blackness cleared. I was standing in the middle of the field, slightly stunned, but also. sort of powerful? Certainly not how I pictured my first day as a heroine going.
"Okay, well," I huffed. "At least now I know what I'm dealing with. I have dark powers. I didn't think it would be so on-the-nose, but. sure. Let's go with that.
I heard a rustling in the distance. Someone was approaching. Someone significant. And I had no idea if I was ready to deal with them, let alone with a brand new, dark power and with no clue what the heck I was doing about it.
One thing was certain: If I was going to play around with my own plot, I'd have to be much more careful about what I inadvertently wrote into the story. Because now? The hero-villain line was a whole lot foggier than I'd ever intended.