The Narrator

 

 

At the beginning of time, a wise and powerful ruler was given the power to create life. This ruler was called The Author, and using their power, The Author created a world of their imagination, and a vast, fantastical kingdom where people and creatures could live in peace. In addition to this world, The Author created me.

I am the Narrator. It is my task to tell the story of The Kingdom, to give description and detail to You, The Reader. This is both a blessing and a terrible burden, for there can be no story without conflict, without trials of loss and sorrow that either teaches the Hero a valuable lesson, enabling them to grow stronger and giving them the abilities to conquer their inner and outer demons… Or be destroyed in the process. And I must always watch what happens, and never interfere. I must stand to the side and witness as countless lives are shattered. For the at the top of Mount Climax, there lives a being of pure evil known as The Antagonist, who takes pleasure in inflicting pain and sorrow on the people of The Kingdom.

For Eternity, I have watched as Hero after Hero stood forward, telling their stories from the side, watching as they faced hardships and sacrifice, unbearable loss, and unmakeable choices, each time hoping, praying, that this was the one. That The Antagonist would finally be defeated. That the story would be over, and the Kingdom could have a long-awaited age of eternal peace. And each time, I am forced to watch, compelled to narrate and do nothing as they fail. Yet another page turned. Yet another chapter ended. Yet another life cut short.

But not this time. I refuse to watch and do nothing any longer, all the while knowing that I possess the power to change things but am forbidden from doing so. The time for telling is done. The time has come to act.

Using my magic, I crafted a shield, one that possesses magic strong enough to protect they that wield it through the hardest of trials. I named this shield Plot Armor, and disguised as a village weaponsmith, I began my search for the next Hero to be chosen to face The Antagonist.

Weeks, months, years passed. I could see The Antagonist’s destruction all around me yet had no way to stop it. I began to lose hope that I would ever find a person worthy of wielding Plot Armor. That is, until I met Heron.

On the outside, Heron didn’t look like much. He was a young man of average height, fairly muscular, but not abnormally so, with ebony black hair reaching just bellow his ears. But with my abilities as the Narrator, I peered into his dark brown eyes, finding there a kind, gentle soul with just the right amount of bravery in his heart. And I knew then that I had finally found the next Hero.

“Young sir!” I called out to him. “I have something for you that I think you will find very interesting!” The young man turned in my direction, sensing that he was being addressed. He walked over cautiously, as if wondering why it was him that I was calling over.

“Something for me?” Heron looked at me with mild confusion, and just a hint of curiosity under the surface. “But I haven’t ordered anything from you.”

“Neither the less, I think you will find what I have to show you very intriguing.” I pulled Plot Armor out from inside my of worktable, carefully setting it down for him to see. It was a beautiful shield, engraved with complex designs of interlocking chains and tongues of flame that almost seemed to flicker and dance like the raging sun. If you looked closely, you could almost see the faint sheen of magic shimmering just under the surface of the steel.

“It’s beautiful.” Heron murmured under his breath, tracing the intricate patterns under is fingers. “But… Why would I need a shield?”

“Because you have been chosen, Heron,” I whispered, quiet enough so that nobody but he could hear. The world froze around us, all the other market-goers freezing mid-motion. It was just him and I, me waiting with bated breath to see if he would accept this dangerous mission. “You have a brave heart and a pure soul and have been deemed worthy to be the next Hero of The Kingdom. You will embark on a quest up Mount Climax  to defeat The Antagonist, facing many dangers, sacrifice, and hardships along the way. But of you succeed, you will free The Kingdom from an eternal reign of terror and evil.”

“How do you know my name?” gasped Heron, stumbling back in shock, nearly bumping into a frozen fruit vendor. “What do you mean I’ve been chosen?”

“To assist you on your quest, I give you this shield, Plot Armor.” I continued. “Forged in the Immortal Flames of Deepest Enchantment, Plot Armor possesses ancient magic that will protect you on your journey.”

Heron lifted the shield with trembling hands, staring in shocked wonder. “I… I still don’t understand.”

“It’s your choice Heron.” I said gravely. “If you don’t accept Plot Armor, you will live out the rest of your life without danger. I will find another Hero, but it could take many years, and The Antagonist will continue to wreak havoc over the kingdom until then. It is your choice, but you only get one. So choose wisely.” And without another word, the market unfroze, and I disappeared, weapons stall and all, leaving behind nothing to suggest I had ever been there except Plot Armor, which Heron still clutched in his hands like it was his one anchor to reality. But of course, I was still listening, still watching, still telling the story.

I watched Heron as he seemed to process the last few minutes. I understood why he seemed so shell-shocked. After all, I’m the Narrator. It’s my job to empathize with the characters, to understand what they’re thinking and feeling in order to relay them to You, The Reader.

Heron remained frozen where he was, gazing down intently at Plot Armor while his expression changed and shifted like the rising sun. Shock, bewilderment, amazement, acceptance, all these passed over his face before finally settling on one emotion: Determination. I could see it in his soul, fueling his courage like kindling to a flame, burning fierce and bright as he straightened his shoulders and walked away, his head held higher, ready to begin his life-changing adventure. And it is this moment, Dear Readers, that our story truly begins.

And so I narrated, watching as Heron assembled a group of friends to help him on his journey: Lotus, Ryan, and Ajax. As they set out on their quest, the four of them bursting with confidence and determination, I couldn’t help but wonder how they would be changed by the journey ahead, whether they would be the same strong, laughing people when they returned. Or if they would even return at all.

But no. I couldn’t allow myself to think like that. I needed to have faith that their combined skills, strong friendship, and Plot Armor would be enough to see them through.

I watched as the party of four traveled through miles and miles of enchanted woods, full of dangerous entities that meant them harm, at night, taking turns resting and fending off bandits and carnivorous beasts. But while Plot Armor protected Heron from the highwaymen’s swords and the demon’s claws, nothing was there to stop the arrow that pierced Ryan’s heart.

The quest continued, and Heron, Lotus, and Ajax struggled to survive as they began their climb up Mount Climax, their hearts heavy from the loss of their dear friend. I watched as their friendship was tested by trials of hunger, thirst, and the stress of constant danger. But some do not have the strength to persevere in times of hardship, and I could do nothing but watch as Ajax, driven to insanity by hunger and thirst, turned on his comrades.

The clashing of swords and cries of betrayal echoed through the mountains as friend turned against friend, and once again, Plot Armor shielded Heron from attack while Ajax was struck down. Heron and Lotus mourned long into the night, but eventually were forced to proceed as the weather harshened.

And still I watched as Heron and Lotus continued to scale the treacherous cliffs, feeling the heavy loss of their friends with every step they took. I watched as they struggled to keep warm, shivering from the cold mountain air. I watched as the mountain thundered with the sound of thousands of tons of stone as they came crashing down upon the young travelers, as Lotus bravely threw Heron out of the way of the oncoming avalanche. Heron and I together watched in horror and grief as Lotus was lost to the missiles of rock and stone falling from above.

After weeks of seemingly endless travels, of narrowly avoiding death countless times, Heron finally reached the final stretch of his journey. But the Heron that climbed over the Peak of Mount Climax was not the same young man whom I had gifted Plot Armor to all that time ago. An eternity had passed since then, and Heron was now both stronger and more broken, wiser but more sorrowful. He had grown much since first setting out on his journey, had experienced the pain that came with loss, betrayal, and sacrifice. And now he would face the hardest part of his quest alone. But not entirely alone, because like always, I was there. Watching, praying. Hoping.

The flame of determination that I had first seen in Heron burned stronger than ever. This was no longer just a quest to save The Kingdom. He was now fueled by sorrow, by anger, and most of all: a hungry desire for revenge.

I watched as Heron burst fearlessly into The Antagonist’s throne room, Plot Armor shining like a beacon as he challenged The Antagonist, a faceless figure cloaked in robes of pure shadow, to a duel. The fight began, sword clashing against sword. Good against Evil. Light against Dark.

One way or another, Heron’s journey was about to come to a close. I was so sure, so confident, that this was going to be The End. Heron had done so much, come so far, farther than any Hero before him. He couldn’t fail now. I dared to let my think that peace was just around the corner. I let myself feel hope.

Of course, that’s when everything took a turn for the worse.

There was a loud, sharp clang, like the toll of a bell bringing news of death, as Heron’s blade was knocked out of his hands. I watched, and watched, and kept watching, as it slid across the room, too far away for Heron to reach. I longed to reach out, to grasp the sword in my own hands and strike The Antagonist down myself. But I could do nothing but watch and tell the story as it happened.

Still, Heron didn’t give up.

“You’ve lost!” Heron declared. “Just give up. I have Plot Armor. You can’t kill me!”

“Foolish boy.” The Antagonist laughed. “Plot Armor only protects you as long as you are needed. And I don’t need you alive anymore.”

The Antagonist brought down their sword, and Plot Armor shattered like delicate porcelain, shards scattering everywhere. And Heron collapsed to the floor.

I remained frozen in shock. It couldn’t be. There was only one being powerful enough to override my powers… But it couldn’t be…

Then The Antagonist let their cloak fall... And I understood everything.

“You may show yourself, Narrator.” Said The Author. “I know you are watching.”

I appeared beside them, the creator of this fortress, this kingdom, this world, now revealed to be the source of all the evil within it. The Author. The Author had been the Antagonist all along.

“You understand why, don’t you?” The Author asked quietly. “You know why I have to do it?”

I nodded in understanding.

“Good.” The Author donned their cloak once more. “Thank you for all that you do. I understand that it is not easy.”

It was that moment, my Dear Readers, that all became clear.

There is no Story without Conflict, because without Conflict there is no Plot, and without Plot there is no Story to begin with. And without Story, this whole world would cease to exist. When The Author created The Kingdom, The Author also created the sorrow and hardships that come with it, inevitably making themselves the villain. And if the villain were defeated, the conflict neutralized… Then the story would end, and this whole world would disappear.

You, Readers, are what keep this world alive. We live in your minds, as your eyes scan the pages. We flare to life as you read the words telling our stories, our journeys continue as you turn each page. We depend on you for the story to exist.

It is my job to tell the story. To teach valuable lessons from the mistakes and experiences of the Heroes, to give our world meaning. And most importantly, it is my job to keep The Kingdom alive in the minds of The Readers. Of You. And no matter what, I will continue to do so, until the day the story does end. Because I am the storyteller.

I am The Narrator.