If any one had asked Kieran Doyle what he had thought of his world famous novel, he would say it was trash.
Utter trash.
Not because of the story, no. Kieran knew it had a good story, that was why it had gotten famous in the first place. The real reason it was 'utter trash' to him was because of the ending.
Yes. The ending. He had wished to change it so badly but he couldn't, now that it had gotten famous he couldn't change anything.
"Mr. Kieran we're here." Kieran got out of his mind and finally focused back into reality. He took a sip of his water bottle and got out of the car.
He was here to sign his books and the moment he got out he saw a long line of people stretching from the inside of the library all the way to the side walk.
He inwardly sighed to himself as he knew this would be a long day. He entered the library and sat down in front of a table while waiting for security to let the fans in.
Once they did, the fans came rushing and the first one reached the table. Kieran sighed once again and put on a facade of a happy author.
————
"Yes! See you later." I finally said goodbyes to the last person. It was around 2 AM and my energy reserves we're completely dried up.
'Never doing that again.' I comforted myself with the idea of relaxing at home and doing absolutely nothing the whole day.
With that idea empowering me, I got up and stretched before making calling my driver. I was going to have to wait a good 20 minutes for the car to arrive so I just opened up a web novel app on my phone and navigated to my novel's page.
It was titled 'Race to World Protection' and had 50 million views and 757 chapters. His novel was rated 4.8 out of 5 stars, ranked #2 in overall web novel rankings and #1 in the fantasy genre.
The novel was about a teenager named Keith Adams who was your typical perfect protagonist who had a system and had to survive in a world where there was impending doom because of 'The Cleansing' which happened a decades ago in which dungeons, monsters and new pieces of land growing onto the planet. Keith Adams would go to 'The Bastion' an academy built on raising future protectors who would stop the country from falling into chaos.
From the point of view of a reader this book was perfect. I had no idea why they thought it was perfect though. After all… everybody died at the end of the novel.
Even though everybody died at the end of the novel they made up some bullshit about how this ending showed how not everything had a good ending. Some life lesson type of shit. I regretted typing up the end.
I shouldn't have done it, but it felt as if it was something I had to do. It was like I was being controlled. And that is exactly why I hate my novel.
The ending was a byproduct of something or someone who had their own goals. While I could argue that since the most of the novel was written by me, I was still the 'official author'. But no, having no control on the novel you spent most time writing felt like shit.
How I really want to change the ending. It was toture. I sighed and stopped myself from devolving into a pointless state of regret. Regret wasn't going to change anything.
My driver had arrived. I picked up my water bottle and got into the car and closed my eyes as the car drove in the endless night.
————
"Mr. Kieran we're here." I got up groggily and thanked the driver before making my way into my bedroom and letting myself flop onto the bed.
I closed my eyes once again and went back to sleep. Instead of the usual sweet dreams I had, the dream I was having too place in a dark abyss.
'Where am I?' I didn't know what type of dream this was. But since this was a dream, nothing bad should happen… right?
"You dwell in my domain Kieran." A sound came from behind me and I instantly turned behind me to see a tall and imposing figure. The figure was dressed in flowing robes of midnight blue, their face was hidden behind a hood, their eyes glowed with a supernatural light and they carried a large leather bound book and quill.
"Who are you?" I asked a bit creeped out but the figure didn't answer me and just continued speaking.
"Regret, young Kieran Doyle, is a common feeling among authors. To see your creations come to an end, to watch their stories come to a close, it can be a heavy burden."
Without stopping the figure continued, "But what if I told you that it did not have to be so? That you could change the ending, to rewrite the tale as you see fit?"
"I have taken an interest in your writing, for I see in you a rare talent and a deep understanding of the world of stories. And so, I offer you this gift: reincarnation, without the loss of your soul, so that you may live within the world of your own creation, and shape it to your will. Will you accept it?"
"I asked you a question, who are you?" While I was a bit overwhelmed and this should be a dream, something told me this wasn't merely dream."
"Who am I, you ask? I am the Scribe, the chronicler of tales, the keeper of stories. I am the one who offers you this gift, the chance to live within the world of your own creation. I am the one who sees in you a rare talent and a deep understanding of the world of stories. And I am the one who believes that you have the potential to create something truly great. So, young Kieran Doyle, will you accept this gift I offer you?"
This 'scribe' person seemed to be a figure who spoke cryptically, they only repeated what they said before. It was like an automation of some kind. Maybe this was the person who had done something to the end of novel.
As if reading his mind the 'Scribe' said. "Ah, young Kieran Doyle, I see that someone has filled your head with false accusations. No, I am not the one who manipulated you to write that tragic ending. But I must confess, there is another, one who calls themselves the Ink-weaver, but their motivations are not as pure as mine. This imposter seeks to control the stories, to bend them to their will, for their own selfish interests. I offer you this gift, not to control or manipulate you, but to help you reach your full potential as a writer, to shape your tale as you see fit. So, will you accept this gift I offer you, and reject the manipulations of the false Scribe?
I took some time to consider. While this person might be the one who changed the ending of my novel, it probably wasn't. I would choose to trust this person.
"I accept."
"Excellent, young Kieran Doyle," the Scribe says, a glint in their eye. "You have shown wisdom beyond your years. I shall now send you to the world of your tale, where you will live out the story as both observer and participant. You will be able to shape your tale as you see fit, but be warned, the false scribe may seek to thwart your efforts. Use your gifts wisely, and remember that the pen is truly mightier than the sword."
And just like that.
Kieran awoke.