Writer´s Karma E-Book

Julia Leilani

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: The Writer´s Duology
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 357

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Paulo Swan is a conflicted writer. One day, he stepps foot into Lorian bookstore. After that, mysterious things start to happen. But the most peculiar is when his doorbell rings. No one is there, and he is no longer in York. He is in his fictional world Wilox. He is told that the only way to return to his world is if he knows the correct answer to why his story matters so much to him. Otherwise, he will remain trapped in his own work forever.

Leseprobe

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental, the product of the author’s imagination, or used fictionally.

WRITER'S KARMA

First edition 17 December, 2023

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1 New beginnings

Chapter 2 The inspiration hunt

Chapter 3 Writer meets world

Chapter 4 The runaway

Chapter 5 Two tablespoons of magic

Chapter 6 Writer’s block

Chapter 7 Mr. Very Sorry

Chapter 8 How well do you know your characters, and how well do they know you?

Chapter 9 Love

Chapter 10 The late truth

Chapter 11 Hidden thorns

Chapter 12 The full moon

Chapter 13 The Collector

Chapter 14 The cruel morning

Chapter 15 Welcome to The Market!

Chapter 16 How much does a wish cost?

Chapter 17 Hallow River

Chapter 18 The cloud

Chapter 19 Gifts and sacrifices

Chapter 20 The hidden key that reflections keep

Chapter 21 The song

Chapter 22 The coincidental dream

Chapter 23 There are papers everywhere!

Chapter 24 The three important words

Chapter 25 Anything can happen in a bookstore

Chapter 26 Shelter from the storm

Authors last words

Now, to the well deserved thanks

About the author

Prologue

In the lively fictional country of Wilox, none of the inhabitants knew they were part of the same book.

They lived their lives just like anyone else.

That would change later on, because soon their special visitor would arrive.

In real life, in York, 1999, on August 14th, Paulo Swan stepped into a bookstore and bought a pen and a spiral notebook. The store owner smiled enigmatically at him.

The man's smile stayed in Paulo’s memory as he walked home.

The minute he left the shop, he had a peculiar feeling that something was about to happen, but he had no idea what, but it was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not.

Chapter 1

New beginnings

Paulo Swan wrote an affirmation in his notebook: "I am more than just a teacher." He had read on the internet that affirmations could help him believe in himself again. But so far he felt nothing. The truth was he did not know who he was if he couldn't be a teacher. Being a teacher had been his identity.

He had been happy being a history teacher at Whalebrook´s, but the principal had taken away his happy life by firing him for something he hadn't done. Paulo had been unemployed for four weeks now. Money was starting to get scarce, and he had to figure something out soon.

A part of him wondered if this was the time when he could finally follow his childhood dream, and maybe make it come true. Or were dreams just dreams and only a waste of time?

It had been his dream ever since he was a small child to become an author. But that would not bring money to the table. He walked out of his room to the hall and studied himself in the round mirror.

Next month, on October 14th, he would turn thirty years old. His thick, pursed lips expressed exhaustion from not sleeping well. His curly brown hair hung slightly over his almond colored eyes, and he could barely see anything. He was dressed in a black sweatshirt and baggy jeans.

Stepping away from the mirror, he slumped down on a chair. He liked teaching kids history. It was stressful but also fun. The kids didn't always listen during class, and they passed secret notes instead. Sometimes they even threw erasers at him. But at heart, Paulo liked the kids and their wild natures. He knew they had good hearts and that had been why he wanted to stay. He wanted to watch and see how they would change over the years. That was really what being a teacher meant to him.

I know getting fired hasn't been easy on me, but I’m tired of Miss Blake’s snide remarks and bad temper! Ever since day one, she seems to have been plotting against me.

It’s a cruel world and I’m just a man trying to find a place in this world. And it is so difficult!

Habitually, he touched the right side of his nose, where his little pink birthmark was. Before, he used to feel insecure about the birthmark, but he didn’t try to hide it anymore.

Now he embraced it as part of himself.

Dressing warmly in an elegant woollen cloak, he put on his shoes, tied a thick scarf around his neck, and went outside to clear his head.

Outside the morning sun shone brightly. His legs began to shiver from the chilly air. Birds were singing in the colorful trees. The leaves crunched underneath Paulo’s shoes as he walked on the asphalt surrounding his apartment building. He continued following a downhill path, leading him to his favorite spot by the lake.

The lake was beautiful and sparkling with life. He could hear voices from people further away and the screams and laughter of children. He remembered all too well how he lost his job. Not a day went by when he wasn't thinking about it. The memory felt like a sour, bitter taste in his mouth, which he couldn't get rid of.

Flashback from four weeks ago

He and his girlfriend had been alone in the teacher's office.

"You know we shouldn't be doing this," he said, with one arm wrapped around her and the other touching her rosy cheek. She looked into his eyes with warmth. She was three summers younger than him.

"Why not?" she asked, smiling. Her strawberry blonde hair was shining in the sunlight coming from the windows. Her face was the shape of a heart and her makeup looked natural. Paulo detected the scent of her lip balm and felt the light touch of her lips on his.

It felt like his heart stopped for a second. Then it was beating like crazy.

He pulled away for a second time and said," Um… Christie… If we get caught doing this, you know we could get fired, don’t you?" But honestly, all he cared about was being with her. He knew that it was daunting, but he had fallen for her. They had been together a few months.

”Oh, come on Paulo, just relax and enjoy some student-free time," Christie said as she ran her fingers through his smooth hair. She leaned over, and his lips met hers once again, and his pulse quickened. Suddenly, there were two sharp knocks at the door. The door swung open, and in walked Principal, Anette Blake and caught Paulo in the act of kissing Christie. She had a shocked look on her face and blurted out the words:

"What is going on here?”

At the same time, she stared at Paulo who looked very appalled. The principal seemed to think that Paulo was the guilty one for being intimate with Christie.

Paulo’s heart was beating fast, and Christie fidgeted with her shirt sleeve. Miss Blake pushed her glasses up her sharp nose.

"What were you thinking? Kissing a teacher! Teachers don't kiss at school you should know that! It says in the employee handbook that teachers are strictly not allowed to have relationships with other teachers!"

"It's not what it looked like. We were just…" Paulo said.

"So, the rumours I heard from the other teachers are true.

You are dating?" Miss Blake said.

She gazed at them with an icy look for a moment.

Her red hair was tied into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She was the kind of person it was hard to guess her age. She looked like she could have been thirty or forty years old. But her real age was fifty. She had the most elegant clothes; a long-sleeved dark shirt with a purple scarf tied into two knots. Her legs were clad in fake black leather pants.

”And you Paulo, have also been accused of helping a student cheat on a math test recently.” Miss Blake said sharply. ”Twice actually.”

”But it’s not true!” he said, trembling on his words.

"I guess I have no other choice than to fire you, Mr. Swan!”

Paulo gave Christie a pleading look and she turned to the principal.

”Please don’t fire him!” Christie exclaimed.

Anette didn't answer, she just looked at them and left the room.

A moment later she came back with a large pile of papers and dumped them on Christie's worktable.

"This is the 7th grader's math test. I want you to correct all of them by tomorrow."

”Paulo didn’t help any student cheat, he would never do that!”

So, do you want me to fire you too Miss Falls?” Miss Blake said with an icy tone.

Christie was about to open her mouth to say something when Paulo mouthed to her: ”No, don’t let her fire you.”

Paulo shook his head in alarm.

"No, Miss Blake. I don't want to get fired," she said. There was a pause, then something changed in the principal's eyes. She no longer seemed to looked so strict, and her facial expression appeared to soften.

Putting her hand on her chin she said, "I remember when I was in my late twenties Miss Falls. A lot has changed since then.”

”You know, Miss. Falls, it doesn't bring me any pleasure to fire Mr. Swan."

Paulo could see on the principal’s face, that actually it did give her joy to fire him. The principal's eyes lit up and she even smiled. "I'm only following the rules. ”Okay out with you Mr. Swan!”

Christie's bright eyes signaled to him: "Don’t go.”

Paulo hid his face and shuffled out of the room, not giving Christie a last glance. He walked sadly back home to his small apartment, with bad blood for principal Anette running through his veins.

Paulo would never see his students again, and it was all because of the stupid Pinocchio lying principal. Surely, the principal had to pay the price of karma someday.

Back to the present moment

He sighed deeply: Maybe it's for the best Paulo. Jobs come and go, and I need a fresh start anyway.

He repeated the same sentences to make himself feel better; he sort of relied on it. He was an overthinker. Paulo would often try to solve problems in his head that people would say were impossible to solve, or not even important.

His girlfriend Christie was the opposite of Paulo, and just went with the flow of life.

Behind him, Paulo could hear murmurs from an old man walking and talking with a teenager. Paulo glanced behind his shoulder. The teenager looked bored with the older man's ramblings.

Wonder if I'm going to be like that when I get old.

He considered it for a short while, then brushed it off.

He strolled along the lake and stopped halfway to sit down on a nearby bench. There he sat and tried to figure out a way to get a new job. But his mind was blank.

Then, a daring thought came to him: What if he followed his childhood dream and became an author? He could continue with the story he started writing a year ago.

What was that story called again? Right: The Mysterious Amulet In The Car.” Paulo crinkled his nose.

He wasn’t satisfied with the title.

Being an author wouldn't give him the money he needed, but it might be the only chance to give him peace of mind.

He had been writing all his life: journaling, writing poems and short stories, and every time he wrote he felt closer to his truest self. It was as if writing made him feel grounded, in contact with his feelings and it gave him a sense of control over his own life. He would pick events from his real life and write them into fiction and turn real-life people into characters. Whatever life threw on him he had his writing, and it was the only therapy he needed. Paulo concluded in his mind that he would write a book. It didn't matter how it went, he was doing it for himself.

He closed his eyes.

Maybe I could find a nice café to write in? But he quickly changed his mind. No, I need to save my money.

Money was something he had very little of. His parents, on the other hand, had a lot of it. But they weren’t the generous type to share.

His money-spending parents were away in Mallorca on one of their long vacations. It was September, and his parents would be back in England a month from now.

Paulo didn't want them to find out that he had been fired and was poor. Just thinking about it made his stomach feel tight.

Would my parents even understand?

They wouldn't understand.

Paulo slowly opened his eyes. The foliage surrounding had a golden hue of autumn to it. The lake in front of him mirrored the mighty hanging trees above him. When Paulo was a fearless little boy, he used to refer to the lake as nature's mirror. He laughed at that. The orange sun was starting to set, and he seemed to be the only person left in the area. Walking home he whistled softly to himself.

When he was home again he was stuck with the memory of when he was fired. That meant him lying on his sofa, listening to music to distract him from the bad memory.

His phone buzzed; it was a text from Christie: It said, "Hi Paulo, can you call me?" He responded with, "I'm busy." A new text from Christie, "I miss you. Work is empty here without you." and he responded with, "I miss you too."

Another message: "Can you come? I'm on my break."

"Sorry. I'm busy"

"Look, I know you're still upset after Miss Blake fired you.

I have tried to get her to change her mind, but she won’t listen to me, no matter what I do.

And please stop shutting me out and answer when I call you. I know you are hurt, but I can’t be there for you if you don’t let me in.”

He reread the last message from Christie several times, muted his phone, and put it down on the table.

Since he lost his job, his relationship with Christie had hit an early downhill. He had felt very proud and happy when he was a teacher. He knew the kids so well, and most of them liked him. And he loved meeting the children’s parents usually.

And then this was all taken away from him, just like that.

It made him feel a deep sadness he had never experienced before. Being upset had taken all his energy, and he didn’t want Christie to see him like that. It was best for them both, to not see each other for a while. He said nothing to her, did nothing. And that nothing did a lot to her heart.

When she called him, his many excuses took the best of him. His excuses were: He couldn’t see Christie because he was feeling miserable, lost with no direction. Paulo wasn’t sure if Christie would understand and accept this anxious part of him.

Chapter 2

The inspiration hunt

The next day, Paulo woke up early. Stepping into the kitchen in his pajamas, he made a nutritious breakfast consisting of two eggs and an avocado toast. He gulped it down quickly, then washed the dishes while listening to "Come Together.” by The Beatles." He was smiling, it was a new day, which meant new possibilities. Paulo put on his clothes in his bedroom and headed to the living room.

He was determined to start his early authorship today.

Everything was set up on the living room table; his writing pencils, and notebook. All the items he had bought from Lorian Green’s bookshop. Paulo would always go there to purchase bookmarks and pencils. He was an exceedingly popular customer there. The last time he had been there was a day after he was fired.

Before he could get to work, he had to find some inspiration again. Some people seemed to just have it and did not have to seek it. Without Christie, his inspiration had died out.

Where should I go to find inspiration? Then he knew.

The art gallery.

Paulo had once been a painter before he started teaching history in school. Surely, he would find inspiration there.

Through the windows, he saw that it was raining. Putting on his rain jacket and wellies, he grabbed an umbrella, and opened the door. The weather forecast had said there would be only light rain, but that was not what was happening. It was pouring outside when he went out! The heavy rain splattered loudly on the asphalt; the ground flooded with water. Looking up, Paulo saw dark clouds hovering over him ominously. This was not going to stop him. He had decided to go to the art gallery and so he would!

He walked down the asphalt sidewalk. Suddenly, he heard an approaching car. Too late, the car drove beside him and drenched him with water. His hair, socks and pants were soaking with water and his face dripped.

"Oh, really now!" It felt almost as if someone was deliberately trying to stop Paulo to get to the art gallery!

The next minutes getting to the nearest bus stop were a joke. He was splashed by nearly every car. Still, he continued walking on the sidewalk. Now, he could see the bus stop.

"Finally!" he ran up to the bus shelter over the street and exhaled. He made a quick bolt for the dry bench surrounded by a glass cupola and sat down.

"Meow." he saw an orange cat watching Paulo while it was licking its paw thoroughly. The cat stared at him with unblinking brown eyes. Its fur seemed to be perfectly dry despite the weather.

Well, that's an odd sight. I didn't expect a cat to be out in this kind of weather!

"What are you doing here?" he asked softly.

"Meow." Paulo bent over to pet the cat’s long fur, but the cat moved to the other side of the bench.

He dried off his hand on the bench and put his hand lightly on the cat's head. "Oou." the cat responded, and then started purring when he scratched its ears.

"You must have come here before it started raining."

Paulo looked up to read the digital timetable for the bus. It said: Bus 5a was delayed due to traffic. "You got to be kidding me!"

"Meow!"

"Yes. Oh well, I guess we're in this together." The cat looked at him with blank eyes.

Thirty minutes passed and there was no bus. One hour passed, and still no bus. The digital timetable still said that it was delayed.

The rain smattered down on the glass cupola.

Impatiently, Paulo stood up. The cat sat there perfectly still.

"Well, I guess this is it then, my friend. It was a pleasure meeting you."

The cat yawned.

"Maybe we will meet again." The cat twitched its ears back and Paulo stepped out from the glass copula.

He had decided to walk to the art gallery, instead of taking the bus. After he had walked for about a hundred meters, he saw a glimpse of the bus approaching from behind and running at full speed back to the bus stop, he barely made it. The cat was still there, acknowledging his every move.

Banging on the bus door, he exclaimed as loudly as he could, breathing heavily: "Please open!" The door did open, and as he walked in, he gave the bus driver a thankful smile. The only seat available was the one next to an older man with a black Labrador. The dog growled at Paulo, probably because his hands had cat hair on them.

When it was time to get off the bus, the man with the

Labrador got off as well.

It had stopped raining, and the sun was peeking out from the gray clouds. He walked the rest of the way to the art gallery.

"What a sight!"

The building seemed bigger than he remembered and the sun was shining its golden rays upon it. The art museum's doors in the middle cast a light blue shine. In front of the building, Paulo could see a white stone statue standing on a tall brown pillar.

He walked over the stone floor to a small lit-up fountain shooting rays of water.

The art museum closed at four o’clock, which gave him only one hour to look around. Paulo walked in through the entrance and up to the reception table and paid 5.82 pounds for entry. He strode around from room to room, admiring all the paintings. To him, art expressed every emotion in many diverse ways. When he looked at each painting, he believed he could look into the very essence of the artist.

The rooms were spacious and contained all sorts of art.

Paulo found cubism, realism, futurism, portrait paintings, and fantasy art. There were four paintings that really spoke to him. The first one showed an orange cat looking into his very soul. The second was a man sitting in a tree, dangling a hay straw in his mouth. The third was a witch with a flower hat standing next to a girl with golden hair. The fourth painting portrayed squirrels watching the full moon.

Paulo took pictures of all four paintings with his Polaroid camera.

As he strode towards the exit, he bumped into a woman.

"Paulo! Long time no see!" The woman exclaimed. It was his friend Fiona from art school, before he decided he wanted to teach history.

"Fiona! Nice to see you! How have you been? Still working at the library?" he asked.

"I’m good, thank you. That’s right, I’m still working there.

How are you, Paulo?" Fiona radiated confidence. She was dressed in a knee-length purple dress; her ponytail was styled and on her earlobes hung drop earrings.

"I’m doing okay." he said but then changed the subject:

"Wow you are all dressed up! Do you have a date with someone? Who’s the lucky guy or girl?"

"No! I just wanted to dress up for me. You know women can do that too." Fiona said.

"Of course!"

"Good. Anyway, are those students of yours treating you well?"

"I quit." he said, shortly.

"You quit? Why?"

"Well, I got fired."

"What? You?!" Fiona laughed a nervous laugh. "That is absurd! Tell me everything."

She accompanied Paulo back home on the bus.

"So, Christie is the reason you actually got fired?" Fiona exclaimed.

"Yes. But I don't want to talk about it more, okay?" he said with a sour voice, completely unaware of his tone.

At the next stop, Fiona went off the bus.

He felt guilty for taking his emotions out on her.

When Paulo stepped off the bus, it was dark already.

The cat was still there! It looked like a red fur ball laying on the same bench under the glass cupola. He walked up to it slowly, and the cat opened its eyes.

"Mrroww."

"You poor thing. Where is your owner?"

"Meow."

The cat sounded like it was complaining. Paulo checked for a collar; he hadn't noticed before if it had one. It did have one; it was light blue with a bell, and in the middle was a small silver container. He opened the container and pulled out a little piece of paper, it said; "Belongs to…...."

"Belongs to no one? Why would anyone write that on their cat’s collar?"

Suddenly, there was tension in the air. His fingertips tingled, almost electrically. A powerful invisible vibration made his ears ring. A pen fell out from his jeans pocket, and rolled its way over to his black shoes.

He couldn’t remember bringing a pen with him. The cat looked at him impatiently, as if it was waiting for him to pick up the pen. Paulo glanced down at the pen; it was a dark green graphite pen. He had never seen it before. He picked it up, and when he held it in his hand it vibrated mysteriously. He almost jumped when the pen quickly lifted itself up in the air. It rose from his hand on its own!

His eyes widened. He watched as the pen moved towards the unraveled paper that lay on the bench next to the cat. It seemed to move of its own accord, in swirly movements that could only be described as dancing. It wrote: ”Name: Flurry. She belongs to Paulo Swan on Brookland Street 14.”

The pen jumped back into his hand, and disappeared leaving a puff of purple smoke. Paulo stared at the palm of his sweaty hand.

What did I just witness? A moving pen that signed my name and address without my consent, and then it just disappeared into thin air?

The cat looked pleased, jumped off the bench, and pushed its head against his legs, purring.

Did I only imagine this? I must have!

He repeated the question like a mantra. Just to be sure, he looked at the cat's collar again, but it was gone. The paper and the magic pen that had signed the note were also gone.

He couldn’t explain it, the cat had a collar before, he was sure of it! Or had he imagined that too? Paulo shrugged his shoulders, and tried to repress\ what he had just seen. It didn’t seem to make any sense anyway. He pet the cat one more time and began walking home. What he didn't know was that the cat was following him. As he reached the main entrance the cat rushed to the door. Waiting for him to open it.

"How did you get here?" The cat looked at him with unblinking eyes and put its furry paw on the glass door.

"No. What will your owner think if I let you in?"

"Meow! Meow! Meow!”

"No. I’m sorry, you can’t!" Paulo tried to shoo it away but to no avail; the cat stayed perfectly still.

"You do realise that I can get accused of catnapping?"

The cat merely tilted its head to one side.

Paulo sighed, chased the cat away, then tried opening the door smoothly, without letting the cat in. But of course, the cat ran in. He chased the cat up the stairs. He could imagine the neighbours disapproving faces. Cats were not allowed in the building. He could see the cat running just above him now, its mocking tail waving from side to side.

When he reached the top floor, he saw the cat standing in front of his door.

"How did you know which door I lived in?”

The cat just meowed at him.

"Sorry, I can’t let you in!” But the cat continued mewing and wouldn't stop. Soon, the neighbors were going to start wondering about all the noise. This cat was stubborn and wanted its way. In a way, it reminded Paulo of himself.

"Okay! Just stay quiet." he whispered.

As he unlocked the door, and opened it, Flurry rushed right in. Paulo had some cat food left in the cupboards, from when Christie’s cats: Lula and Roar would come over. Flurry ate with a great appetite like she had not eaten for days, she put the tip of her paw in the water bowl and then lapped at it. Paulo walked into the living room and sat down on his sofa with his computer and checked if there were any missing cats in York. It didn't appear that anyone was looking for this cat. Curiously, Flurry jumped up to the computer, sniffed it and stepped over the keyboard.

"Computers are not for cats!" Flurry looked at him with innocent eyes.

Paulo decided he would keep the cat for now: well, until he found the owner. Flurry purred and jumped up on the red pillow resting on the sofa; she looked like nobility, trying to find the right resting position and stretched out one of her furry paws. Paulo went to his room to read, and then fell sound asleep.

The next day, he decided to write in his notebook, which he had bought at Lorian Green’s bookstore. He used this book for brainstorming.

Grabbing his pen, he began writing. The pictures he had taken with his Polaroid camera lay on the table in front of him. Flurry sat next to him watching the pen with great interest, she knocked it over three times. He wrote:

Prologue:

One crisp winter day in the country of Wilox, a wizard named Welven found a mirror lying outside his door. Welven had no clue how it got there. To him, it looked just like any ordinary mirror.

He held up the mirror in his hands and it started to communicate with him. The mirror wrote on its glass in smudgy letters: ”What is it you wish wizard Welven?”

The wizard could sense with his sensing abilities that this mirror couldn't be trusted. It was The Ancient Mirror. This mirror trapped magical beings after it had made their wishes come true.

"I wish for nothing." Welven told the mirror.

"All you have to do is close your eyes, imagine what you want, and you will have it."

"No thank you."

A spiral appeared on the mirror. It began spinning, then faster and faster, so fast that the wizard fell into hypnosis.

The mirror wrote the same question again: ”What is it you wish wizard Welven?”

"I want The Creator of Wilox to come and see what he has done with his creation. This mirror will be the end of us all! Storm will be the end of us all!” Welven said, hypnotized.

"As you wish!” The mirror drew a smirky smiley on its glass. ”Storm will be most grateful to know that The Creator is coming to Wilox.”

Chapter 1

Wilox 1979

It was a frosty and teeth shattering night when Rosa Bell’s parents went missing. Her small ears were red, her short hair stale, and her jacket was too big for her. Five year old Rosa looked at the woman carrying her in her arms with wide eyes.

It hurt from the back of her left shoulder and she could feel something warm and runny making her jacket wet. Tears flooded down her eyes and she was screaming; "Where did mum and dad go?”, kicking and kicking with her feet. Rosa didn’t recognise the woman that was carrying her. To her left was another woman, it was her aunt Denisia.

The two women whispered and talked with troubled voices to each other while they walked.

”Erica, you did the best you could do. You saved my dear little Rosa.” Aunt Denisia said.

”But I couldn’t save her parents…” Erica sighed deeply.

”You should not put that weight on you! We have gone through this already. You did your best and Rosa is alive!” She nodded with her head at Rosa.

”Listen, I know that my brother chose you to be Rosa’s godmother," Denisia said to Erica. ”But I still think Rosa should stay with me for a few days. I am her aunt. As you can see she is bleeding. I will clean and heal the wounds from the accident.”

Erica nodded. ”Okay but I will pick her up in two weeks.”

Little Rosa cried even more. Erica rocked her back and forth in her arms: ”Sshh, Sshh, it's going to be okay.” I’m your godmother, Erica, and I will take care of you soon. Rosa looked at aunt Denisia and cried harder.

Pushing her hair back against the wind, Erica said:” Look what I found in her parents car after the accident!” Erica grabbed for something in her pocket and held up an amulet. A gold amulet with freshwater pearls adorning it.

”Give it to Rosa, it was her mother’s favorite, she wore it on her wedding.” Aunt Denisia said with a sad voice. ”And don’t worry, it’s not one of Storm’s cursed amulets. This one is good. Her mother and father’s wizard friend gave it to her. And I know she wanted Rosa to have it.” Denisia said.

”I believe you. I don’t believe this amulet is cursed either.” Erica took a deep breath: ”Okay I will give it to her.” Erica said, marvelling at the amulet.

”Good!” Denisia said.

Erica placed Rosa gently on the ground. The little girl was shivering. ”Oh, my dear, let's get you warm, it’s freezing outside!

We have to move quickly to my house.” Denisia said, and they walked to her house. Erica watched as they left.

"What about Mum and Dad?” Rosa asked on the way. A tear fell from the little girl’s eye and more spilled down her cheeks.

"Oh, don't you cry!" the woman said, embracing her. The crying didn't stop: the little girl was devastated. They didn’t know how to stop the crying. Then something changed in the little girl's eyes, a glint of hope: "What if they are on a secret mission? And that is why they aren't here now." the girl said.

"What if they are," Denisia said encouragingly, but didn't quite understand the girl's sudden change of thought.

Dropping his pen on the table, Paulo smiled at what he had accomplished so far. He had created all the characters for his story based on people from his real life.

Principal Anette Blake would be the witch Erica Row,

Rosa’s godmother. Miss Blake reminded him of a witch, with her evil laughter. Not to mention the wickedness of having him fired. He could tell that she did not have any problem with him gone, and that made him despise her.

Anette only seemed to care about herself. He decided to give the principal two roles in his book. That was what she seemed to be; a two-sided person. She was also going to be Aunt Denisia; the main character's aunt. She could be bubbly and intense, and that reminded Paulo of how Miss Blake could be at the school café. He frequently bumped into her at the grocery store, and she was always up for long conversations.

Then there would be the evil magician's group: Storm, who would represent his old bullies from grade school.

They were after "The Ancient Mirror" so they could visualise the fictional world Wilox, without the current king and become the new rulers. Their spirit animals would be the vicious Were-Squirrels.

Christie, from real life would be Rosa Bell. A new witch to be, and her spirit animal would be an orange cat. His fictional character Rosa was a kind and adventurous woman. That matched Christie very well.

Paulo would be the king: Elliot Blue. The best version of himself. Handsome of course, but not arrogant in any way.

He would help Rosa Bell with finding her parents. Lorian Green the book shop owner would be Doctor Lori, a friend of Rosa's godmother, and Lorian would also be a wizard named Welven. He wrote this all down along with landscape ideas in his notebook. He was off to a good start, but he wasn't finished with the whole plot yet. And what was the title going to be?

Chapter 3

Writer meets world

Paulo had been sitting indoors on the sofa for almost the entire day. Drowsiness made his thinking slow and his body was cold from not moving enough. He needed some fresh air. After putting on his jacket, shoes, and his green scarf that Christie had made him he was ready to go out.

Snow fell on him from the sticky pine needle trees. His ears were turning red from the cold, so he put his hood on.

The snow looked like pixie dust and landed on two strangers who stood just outside. A short girl and an older woman stood where the children's hopscotch used to be.

Now it was covered in thick snow.

How can it be winter when it was still autumn? What is going on? And what are these people doing here?

He took a closer look at the strangers, these total strangers.

But they did look like his fictional characters, Rosa Bell and Lady Denisia!

What a coincidence! No, it can’t be…

The older lady and the child were having a conversation.

But he only heard murmurs.

"Good God!" Paulo exclaimed expecting the girl and the older woman to hear him, but they didn't seem to notice him at all: His mind felt baffled, he walked up to the woman and the child, but they didn't seem to see him.

Their appearances were too accurate for his writing descriptions not to be true. His heart was beating fast, and he felt slightly faint and queasy. What exactly was happening he didn't know. He covered his open mouth. He was shaking, he didn't like things he couldn't understand.

This didn’t even have a plausible explanation to it!

Rosa and her aunt Denisia walked towards a snowy hill.

He could have sworn the hill wasn't there before. He stared in the direction the girl and the woman were heading.

Taking a deep breath, he closed the top button of his jacket and started to follow what seemed to be his fictional characters. They had now reached the top of the hill and went downwards to the other side of the hill. Slowly he walked after them, then quickened his pace. He heard a low thud. The noise came from the pine trees above him.

Paulo looked up with wide eyes. The trees on the other side of the hill were melting, all the snow was melting.

"What the hell is happening?!" Walking down the hill he witnessed something he would never forget. The trees around him turned green. The process continued: the leaves on the trees turned bright red, yellow and orange.

Then the leaves fell off. All this happened in slow flashes: the trees changed into different seasons. The procedure repeated itself several times until it stopped. Looking around he saw that his whole surroundings had turned to early summer.

The nightingale was singing sweetly along with the blackbirds. The capacious forest around him was covered with flowers; voluminous red roses tall as sunflowers peeked down over oak trees. Looking down, he saw even more flowers; purple and white dandelions swaying in the light breeze.

This was the scenery Paulo had written in the back of his notebook. It had been one of his ideas for possible environmental descriptions. Paulo hadn't been sure he would use it but now he was sure. Looks even better than in my head!

A white light emerged from the trees, surrounding him. It blinded him and when he opened his eyes again he found himself inside a small dark room.

"Welcome Paulo Swan." said a thick voice coming out of nowhere.

"Hello?" But there was no answer.

The sudden change of environment startled him; He wrapped his hands around his legs and felt his pulse beating in his ears. He was in a cottage. When he stood up, he realised the floor felt like he was walking on paper. He heard the sound of rustling paper and felt the smell of fresh paper. A chill ran down his spine as he looked up; the roof was crashing over him, paper swirling down on him, covering him. As he took away one piece of paper at a time the scenery changed.

Through his closed eyes, he saw black and white spirals dancing around. When the spirals dispersed, and he opened his eyes, he saw something else. A dark blue sky and a green misty forest. He was in Emuna Woods, the mystical forest in Wilox.

Paulo felt a soft cushion under him; he appeared to be sitting in the backseat of a car. Next to him lay a golden amulet. He didn’t think much of the amulet though, he just wanted to get out.

What the hell am I doing here?! And who are these people?

In the front seat was a silhouette of a man and a woman.

The woman appeared to be driving. Paulo screamed.

"How did I get here!? Who the hell are you!?" He felt a big lump in his throat. The woman and the man gave no response.

Sweat dripped down his face, neck and back. "Let me out of here!" No one answered, instead the silhouetted woman and man spoke to each other in low murmurs. He could only see their backs. He attempted to touch the man lightly on his shoulder, but he quickly drew his hand back as fast as he possibly could.

"My gosh, you got to be bloody kidding me!" Paulo screamed.

The man’s arm was made of paper!

"Let me out now!" he shouted. ”Let me out!”

The woman’s ears were made of white liquid and on them hung earrings. The earnings glowed with a blue shine. Her eyes were made of the same liquid, but they were formed into poor representations of human eyes. Her lips were thin threads made of liquid. The man sitting next to the woman was made of the same substance too: silhouettes and liquid, it was the same with their nostrils. They couldn't hear, see, smell or even feel it seemed.

Shrieking at the sight, Paulo attempted to open the door, even though he knew it was dangerous to do so. But it might be the only way to survive. He pulled and pulled but couldn't open the car door. He pressed his whole body weight on the door. He tried to break the windows with his fists, to no avail. The windows and the whole car were made of paper as hard as diamond.

"Let me out! Let me out!" he screamed.

There was a loud crash as the windshield shattered, and shards of broken glass flew into the car. The man and the woman reached out their hands and produced two shields out of thin air to protect themselves with. The man and woman seemed to be fighting a gang of gray-cloaked people that apparently had chased after them on the road.

They couldn’t be human; they didn’t seem to ever grow tired of running.

Blue energy radiated from the couple’s hands, which turned into small ocean waves, making their way out the cracked part of the windshield, growing bigger until it devoured the gray-cloaked people. But just for a short while.