Once upon a time, there was absolutely nothing.
There was no speck of dust, no gasp of air, not even a you of whom to speak.
When a person gazes into the clear night sky, they are met with a starscape amongst the space, the glimmering lights a window into a void full of potential.
When a person bikes through the fog, their path is occluded, but they press on, confidently venturing into the unknown.
When a person ignites the log of a hearth, they release its tale to the world, letting it float across their soul, cherishing its story and honoring its passing with respect in each breath.
As yet, there was no sky. There was no fog. There was no hearth.
All these things could only exist on a stage. There was, of course, no stage.
And then there was.
And then
there was.
Ess awoke from the dream with a start. She’d long had the peculiar habit of napping in the shade of her work table. This wasn’t the first time it had led her to some unfortunate pain to the noggin. She feared she might be developing a bump there, but her hut had no mirror and she hardly left it frequently enough to check in a river.
The young goblin girl had been having dreams like this for a while, now. A soundless voice speaking to her, offering her the only hint of reality within an otherwise blank expanse. Ess had always felt frail and miniscule beneath the jaws of the world around her, but when she dreamed, she felt smaller than ever. In fact, she felt so small, she figured she might not exist at all.
Her dream today was different. Today, she felt real.
The trouble with reality is that it is, simply put, all too real.
And so was Ess’s headache. All this thought about her dreams was making her vision spin (though she could have accounted that just as accurately to vertigo from peeling herself off her carpet’s comfort). She decided not to dedicate another sentence to the subject; she had more important things to occupy herself with.
Such… as…
One of her many interests!
Okay, fine. Ess had one interest. But it was a most interesting one, she would tell herself. And then nudge herself in the side, because, haha, get it? She’d nod with a smirk: Yes. She did get it.
Ess was somewhat lonely.
With nobody around to share her time with, save her cat (who could sleep through, quite literally, anything), she had taken to reading. The previous owners of this single-room shelter, who’d abandoned the place long before Ess settled herself in, had left plenty of books, and she found them rather fascinating. They largely comprised tomes on herbal majyyks and potion brewing, and she would have been more than content browsing the recipes and alchemy within; she had, naturally, began experimenting with the art herself not long after picking up Encyclopaedia on the Gath’ring of Fine Fermentation Ingrad’yents.
But there was a particularly distinct volume that had caught her eye and captured her attention like no other.
The Girl Who Knew the World.
This was a fictional tale.
Ess loved it.