Shh…we’re coming back with someone as white as snow and hair as black as the night.
Actually while stuck in this dark forest, I have been transitioned down other pathways that have lead to, as we say in my home, succinct opportunities.
The darkness can be a comforting and addicting thing. I found myself wrapped in a thick blanket so warm and penetrating that while I wanted to break free my consciousness would not allow me. It was safe and away from Tulu Xan’s curse, but at the same time this was part of it. My thoughts floated through my head, never acting or reacting, simply an stream of consciousness that would meander in any direction. They twinkled around in an orbit that did not follow any well-routed elliptical orbit. The gravity had fallen and my thoughts were left to their own random devices. One single idea surfaced in the blackness, a shape. A red shape tantalizing me with a desire to embrace the colors missing from the silent cocoon. Zooming by the red shape were ideas from the blue planet about what it represented-sin, appetite, knowledge, deadly chemicals. These ideas led to stories and one stood out amongst the rest: white as snow, as red as blood, as black as the wood.
When one ventures into death, they usually experience a tunnel feeling. Being pulled into Earth’s canon imagination was similar to that feeling, except instead if my whole being going through a tunnel I went through piece by piece. I slowly started to fade away as if I were jumping planes and Tulu Xan’s triumphantly enraged grin glowered at me the entire time. The last memory I captured of the Muse Cross Dimension University plane was of the tree I had been sitting under, the scorned copy of My Darkening Heart, and a happy yet cross copyright god. Tulu Xan blurred in my vision. Her head was bent forward with her antlers pointed in my direction as if she was going to charge my translucence. With the last spark of my power, I fired an energy blast in her direction. Hopefully, it was strong enough to at least singe her robes.
Cursed, drained, and fading away I relinquished myself to the throes of imagination and, of course, then there was only darkness.
Tulu Xan howled in Staris trying to undo my redo of her curse. Her temper tantrum was like an author too attached to her writing and unwilling to listen to any constructive criticism. How could this sort of creature sprung from the Infinite Guardian’s imagination? How could she be responsible for a place that was the equivalent of the real Universe? I guess all types have great power, but I question if they can bear the responsibility. The powerful Staris language was not enough to override my fledgling powers. In all honesty, I was surprised Tulu Xan could not counter my curse. It made me think that in some small way a higher being was watching me.
The scream of a thousand demons sinking slowly into black hole scorched the air. Tulu Xan flew at me, her anger flaming from the tip of her antlers to the sharpest point on her hoof.
“How dare you!” she raged. “You had no right to change my word!”
She stopped at the edge of my personal shield, pounding her fists on the solidified energy, most likely trying to wring my neck. A gust of orange magic blew over my encasement, enshrouding me deeper into the curse. I felt the tug of Earth’s creative entreaties to the muse realm flowing through me. Though I had access to them as part of my heritage, I had long denied and ignored them, but these entreaties were akin to prayers and they washed over me to the point where I could hardly abide. Humans begging for inspiration and seeking to replicate creation according to their own selfish whims and desires. Were they always so self-centered? Were all their stories like this? Yet other entreaties poured in, kinder and gentler seeking to influence the blue planet for the better. These stories were hopeful and I tacked onto these ideas as the curse pulled me into Earth’s canon imagination.
Tula Xan stepped back. “The muse has teeth. What is this?” She reclaimed her ground, stepping forward to observe me. “Powerful, yes, but not enough to stop me.”
I was cursed, doomed, tired of her love for the dramatics, and I had nothing left to lose. No matter what I did I was going to be stuck in the human canon imagination, so I might as well go out with bang. That would be the romantic thing to do.
“No not as powerful, but enough to rewrite the curse.”
Her eyes snapped up. “What? Impossible!”
“Copyright gods know little of that word since in the imagination nothing is impossible, ” I snarled.
“Yes, yes, and rude, and intolerable.” I unleashed another shock field and slammed Tula Xan into the tree. “Send me to the canon imagination. I cannot stop that, but I counter the curse! I will not suffer the indignity of bad ideas. I will live out my days in the good and the bad. Whatever the humans create, I will experience and one day I will escape.”
“TO THE EARTH’S CANON IMAGINATION, CALLISTO MAVEN. TO THE IMAGINATION WHERE YOU SHALL RESIDE, BE ALONE, AND EXPERIENCE EVERY BAD IDEA TO EVER BE REALIZED. NEVER SHALL YOU ESCAPE!” Tulu Xan commanded.
The orange and violet balls surrounded me, circling in and out like a satellite orbiting a star and to the tune of my heartbeat. Tulu Xan’s power scoured my body and marked me with her curse. Unbidden, my own powers came to my defenses; my powers as the daughter of the Nine Circle and Keeper of the Sacred Alphabet. To make my own impression, I allowed my eyes to glow and released a shock field that sent the balls reeling.
“No,” she stated, looking cool despite the sparks flying off her body. “What’s said is said. Time to bear the repercussions, muse child. An insult is an insult and I want what is mine.”
She turned from me and pointed her finger to the sky in a manner I recognized all too well from climatic scenes and doomsday plots. She was conjuring the curse from scratch for dramatic effect. I admit I felt sort of flattered that a copyright god felt the need to demonstrate her powers to me, a less than well-known muse. Was she so easily offended that it drove her to insecurity? One could say that even thinking a copyright god had flaws was sacrilege, but did not the Infinite Guardian create them from her own imagination? Isn’t the Infinite Guardian of the same stuff as higher order beings, except charged and blessed with a divine mantle? What I am getting at is that in all her wisdom, the Infinite Guardian has as many flaws as any other being. It is only logical that her creations would be the same.
Small bound balls of violet and orange light bit and snarled in the air. They popped around Tulu Xan, licking her robes like a canine kissing meat drippings. She spoke words, which I assumed were a spell, under her breath. I recognized a few syllables of the Staris language, of course she was fluent. Scared and indignant as I was, realizing she was cursing me in one of the most powerful languages in real creation was flattering in a way. I was doomed.