Marigold Fairweather was facing an enigma. She had fallen asleep at her writing desk yesterday night, only to wake up again the next morning in a place that most certainly was not her desk. It was a meadow, the tall reeds swaying in the slight breeze and the sun shining brightly on the grass, making everything look soft and golden.

Well, this was an improvement from her gloomy apartment, that’s for sure.

She got to her feet and looked around, pulling a leaf out of her messy golden-brown hair. The slight breeze blew her unruly curls into her face.

How had she come to this place, she wondered? There was something strangely familiar about it, and yet something that seemed completely different from every other place she’d ever known. There was a sort of feeling in the air that she couldn’t quite place. It was a different atmosphere from her little flat in London where she spent her days cooped up from morning to evening, writing fantasy novels. 

This field felt freer than any place she’d ever been to in London. Lighter almost. Magical. The wind whispered her name as she waded through the tall grass, calling her forward. At the edge of the meadow was a dark mass of gnarled trees, their bare skeleton hands tangled with weeds and thorny vines. Their long fingers reached out, trying to stretch out over the golden warmth of the meadow as if wanting to snatch away the sunlight.

Something in this place felt so close to Marigold’s heart, like she’d been here before. Like every blade of grass and ray of sunshine held part of Marigold inside of it.

Something caught her eye in her peripheral vision; a piece of paper fluttered down from the clear blue sky. Marigold wandered towards the paper, plucking it from the air as a gentle breeze sent it floating towards her. She held it in her hands carefully, feeling that it was of some significance.

The paper had been slightly crumpled, like it had been ripped from a book. Marigold skimmed the words, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she read down the page. The words described the scene around her.

Birds flitted through the sky and sunlight shone down on the golden meadow. The grass appeared soft to the touch, like the fabric of a warm blanket one would wrap around themselves in the wintertime. The very air of the place seemed bursting with life and magic.

Marigold suddenly heard the clear chirping of a sparrow as it flitted through the blue. The grass around Marigold’s feet felt gentler as it rubbed across her legs. And although Marigold had felt some sort of magic in the air before, it seemed enhanced now, like the whole world was buzzing with it. She felt that if she stayed here long enough she would suddenly develop the powers of flight or invisibility, or perhaps she would sprout wings and turn into some sort of fairy. That was the feeling one got from being in that place.

She read on.

Luna walked through the grass, but she wasn’t focused on the warm world around her. Her eyes were drawn to the dark forest at the edge of the meadow, where the tall black trees called her name. The magic in the air was different there. It was colder and less friendly, but somehow that drew Luna in even more.

Marigold stopped reading. She suddenly realized where she was. She knew why this place felt so familiar, why it felt like she was a part of it herself.

Somehow, Marigold had fallen into her own story. This paper was a page from her book, the one she’d fallen asleep writing last night. The meadow and the forest were all created by her, down to the last blade of golden grass and the last dark leaf. How she’d gotten here, she still had no idea.

She looked up from the paper. Across the clearing, she saw a young girl with dark brown, nearly black hair that fell past her shoulders. She was wearing a beautiful blue dress. She looked eleven or twelve years old, although it was hard to tell from this distance. She walked towards the line of trees at the meadow’s edge. Although Marigold had never seen this girl, she immediately knew exactly who she was.

Luna was like the daughter that Marigold didn’t have. She had written her into the story as a version of her younger self. Luna looked just how Marigold had imagined, from her wavy dark hair to her tan, freckled skin. That made sense, she thought, because Marigold was the one who imagined her into existence.

Marigold thought it strange that she hadn’t noticed Luna before. It seemed like she’d only appeared once Marigold had read about her from the page. And still, Luna didn’t even notice that Marigold was there! Her gaze was fixed on the line of trees ahead as she made her way towards them. 

Marigold remembered this part of the story. This was almost halfway through the book, when Luna, the protagonist, was making her way into the Dark Forest to face the antagonist, an evil dragon named Nyx. She was Marigold’s least favorite character. Marigold was the kind of author who put all the good they saw in the world into some characters and all the bad they saw into others. Nyx the Dragon was one of the latter.

Marigold started speed walking towards Luna, hoping to reach her before she entered the woods. You see, Marigold hadn’t finished writing the book yet. She was stuck on the ending like authors so often are. She had to warn her character that the story wasn’t finished yet, and she had no clue how Luna was going to make it out of the forest alive.

“Luna!” Marigold called as she got closer to her.

The younger girl stopped and spun around in surprise.

Her eyes widened as she took in Marigold’s modern clothes and familiar face.

“Are you… you’re the author aren’t you?” Luna said in shock, “You aren’t supposed to be here!”

Marigold was surprised that Luna recognized her so quickly, but as she thought about it it made more sense. Marigold had created this entire world and all of it was a part of her, it only made sense that the people in this world would recognize her.

“I don’t know how I got here but it’s a good thing I did,” Marigold said breathless, slowing down as she reached the younger girl, “I have to warn you, the ending isn’t finished yet. I don’t even know if you’ll be able to get out of the forest. It’s not worth the risk!”

Luna blinked. 

“You of all people should want me to go into the forest! If I don’t then there’s no story at all! If I go in, there’s at least some chance of the story ending happily,” Luna said.

Marigold sighed and continued, “But if I’m stuck in here then the story can’t finish! If you go in there now, you’ll find Nyx alright but you’ll never be able to escape her because I haven’t figured out how to yet!” 

Luna groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“You’re right. This is why the author is never supposed to be in the book. Nothing good ever comes of it!”

Marigold contemplated those words momentarily, wondering if waking up in their own stories was common for authors. She also wondered if the characters were aware that they were in books. Luna certainly didn’t seem as shocked as she should have been to find out that her whole life was simply pages in a story, and that Marigold was the author.

Before she had much time to think about it, Marigold saw another piece of paper fluttering from the sky. The wind carried it to the two of them like a postman delivering a letter. Marigold plucked it from the air and read it before Luna could stop her.

Luna ventured through the Dark Forest, in the heart of which the dragon resided, waiting for her. The sunlight barely managed to poke through the gnarled mass of branches above her. The little light that did make it through was colder and less hopeful than the sunlight out in the meadow. The air grew heavier and heavier as she continued walking like it was weighed down by the darkness around her.

Marigold looked up from the page just in time to see the blue of Luna’s dress disappear among the trees. She kicked herself as she remembered that whenever she read from one of the pages, the words seemed to come true. She had no choice but to follow Luna now as she made her way towards the greatest danger she could face. As the author, Marigold felt that it was her duty to help her characters. And in this situation, she also felt that she was the only one who could help her characters. If she could find some way to write the ending from inside the story, she could save Luna from the Dragon.

So, without wasting another second, Marigold walked into the Dark Forest, into the clutches of the skeleton trees.

“Luna!” she called, as it was too dark to see very far.

“Over here!” A voice called from a little ways away.

Marigold hurried in the direction of the voice until she found Luna. She was regretting writing the Dark Forest to be so, well, dark. Dark and gloomy and creepy. Why did she do that again? She wasn’t sure.

“I’m so sorry! I don’t know why reading the pages triggers the events!” Marigold said sadly, realizing she’d inadvertently sealed their fate with her reading.

“Once the page is read, it can’t be changed,” Luna shrugs, “I guess it’s because the reader doesn’t have to wonder what happens anymore.”

She had a determined look on her face, like a sense of duty. In the story, Luna had been tasked with defeating Nyx, along with several other teammates. Nyx had killed some of them, and the rest had given up. Only Luna persevered.

Marigold wished she hadn’t written Luna as quite so brave.

“If you’re going, I guess I have to go too then,” Marigold sighed.

Luna started to object, but Marigold cut her off, “No, I really need to. I think I might be able to change the story, and figure out the ending. It’s worth a shot.”

And so, the two set off. Author and character, side by side. The air felt like a heavy blanket surrounding them, and it only got heavier the further they went. The trees got denser if possible, and the air got colder. The wind that had seemed to whisper Marigold’s name since she’d first arrived sounded less like a friend and more like an eerie calling, luring her into a trap. The two of them walked in silence, feeling that no words could come out right in this dark place.

It felt like an eternity walking that shadowed pathway, but in reality, it was only around ten minutes before they stopped. The two of them felt the unmistakable feeling of being watched.

Marigold had always wondered why people could tell when someone’s eyes were on them, but there was no doubt about it. Someone, or something, was watching them.

“Who’s there?” Luna called out boldly. Marigold was impressed by how steady she was able to keep her voice. 

There was no answer, but Luna and Marigold both thought they saw something move in the shadows. Whether it was real or just their fear playing tricks on them, they didn’t know. Something rustled in the distance and they both spun around.

There was nothing but eerie silence and darkness.

Something light caught Marigold’s eye in the sea of blackness. A page fluttered down from the sky. She didn’t grab it this time. The cold breeze carried it to her feet, but she looked away before she could read the words.

“Should I read it?” She asked Luna.

“Might as well,” Luna said, “The story has to go somewhere. We can’t just stand here, staring into the darkness forever.”

Marigold nodded and carefully picked up the paper at her feet, brushing the dirt from the surface. Feeling a sense of dread rise within her, she read the printed words.

Staring into the darkness, Luna couldn’t make out a single thing. She thought she sensed something looking back at her between the trees, but it was impossible to tell. Just as she turned to continue walking, a voice cut through the silence like a knife.

Marigold shivered as she read the words. She looked over to see Luna turning to walk away, and suddenly they heard it.

A deep, sinuous voice, eerily smooth and calming, rang through the air.

“Welcome, friends,” It said, the voice rich and enchanting. Beneath the voice’s deceptive tranquility, Marigold and Luna could sense undercurrents of malice.

The two of them looked around slowly, searching for the source of the voice, but found nothing.

“Who’s there?” Luna called out once more. The response was a deep, bone-chilling chuckle that immediately filled them with a great sense of uneasiness. It was the laughter of someone who was toying with their prey.

“You know who I am,” the voice said, a hint of dark amusement laced through its words, “You’ve been looking for me.”

“Nyx?” Marigold said shakily, causing another laugh from the voice.

“Now, here is something I never expected to see. Marigold Fairweather, afraid of her own dragon. What are you doing here?” The voice mused, almost mockingly.

“I- I don’t really know. I don’t know how I got here,” Marigold stammered.

Right after the words left her mouth, a shape appeared from the shadows. It was a huge, snakelike dragon, crawling close to the ground so its eyes were level with Marigold’s. Her armor-like scales were as dark as the shadows behind her. If it wasn’t for their shimmering quality, they would’ve been nearly invisible to see in the blackness of the forest. The dragon’s eyes shone bright orange, like pieces of amber concealing little flames.

“That’s the question we’re all asking ourselves, isn’t it? Why are we here? How did we get here?” the dragon says in its eerily soothing tone.

“Of course, I already know the answer,” she continued, “I’m in this forest because you put me here. I’m here to do whatever you tell me to, and that’s how the story works,” Nyx said with an almost bitter edge to her voice.

“You, Marigold Fairweather, don’t realize how much power you have. You dictate everything that happens to every single person in this entire world, do you realize that?” Nyx said in an overdramatic voice as she laughed, “And you still think I’m the villain in this story?”

Marigold stood frozen, rather caught offguard by Nyx’s accusation, while Luna turned to meet the dragon’s fiery gaze with a determined glare.

“Of course you’re the villain,” Luna spat, her voice cold and her fists clenched at her side, “You don’t do anything but destroy! You killed so many innocent people” She said, her voice shaking slightly for the first time.

Nyx chuckled darkly, sending shivers down Marigold’s spine. “Did I, little girl?” The dragon’s eyes sparkled with cruel amusement, “or did she?” The dragon gestured mockinly towards Marigold, who felt a knot in her stomach tighten.

Marigold struggled to respond as her guilt weighed heavily upon her. Luna, too, seemed at a loss, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly as she fought for an answer to Nyx’s words.

“You still think of the author as the hero of the story, don’t you?” Nyx’s laughter echoes through the forest, colder than the breeze which raised goosebumps on Marigold’s arms. “But don’t you see? Every bad thing that happens in the world is her fault! We’re all just characters in her story, pawns for her to manipulate and endanger.”

Luna’s confidence wavered at her words, uncertainty beginning to flicker in her eyes. Marigold felt a surge of panic.

“Listen Luna,” Marigold implored softly, “Every challenge I wrote for you was supposed to lead you forward, not hurt you! I was trying to get you to the happy ending! You’ve gotta trust me!”

Nyx’s familiar cold laughter cut through Marigold’s defense, “How can you claim that when you haven’t even written the ending yet?” The dragon’s words struck Marigold hard.

“Luna, please,” Marigold pleaded, a slight tremor to her voice, “I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t realize that my writing actually had consequences. I really am sorry about that, I promise.”

Luna’s gaze shifted uncertainly between Marigold and Nyx, torn between belief and doubt. Marigold anxiously held her breath as she waited for a response.

“Right,” Luna said, her voice beginning to gain some confidence as she turned to face the dragon, “Marigold didn't mean to hurt people. But you, you actually did. You’re the one who really wants people to suffer, Nyx. Not her.”

Nyx’s smirk only widened, a gesture filled with malice. “Perhaps,” she conceded with a small chuckle, “But that’s because Marigold shaped me this way. I’m only what she made me to be.”

Marigold’s frustration flared as she looked at the dragon.

“You keep saying that you’re victim here, but you just continue hurting people. If I’m the one ‘shaping’ you or whatever, why not just stop?” She demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

Nyx's eyes glinted with a dangerous glimmer as she countered, “My dear Marigold, you misunderstand me. You wrote me this way. I can hardly alter my very identity, can I? So tell me then, why should I release you, two foolish mortals who ventured here without a plan?”

Marigold exchanged a helpless glance with Luna. Panic surged within her, a tumult of guilt and fear. She had failed to foresee the consequences of her creation, and now she stood here powerless. 

“You can’t just kill us, Nyx,” Marigold insisted, hiding the uncertainty in her voice with a layer of false confidence, “Without a resolution, you’re whole story is kind of just… incomplete,” 

Nyx scoffed, her tone laced with bitterness. “You underestimate me, Marigold. I reject closure. I desire chaos, a realm where victory is eternally mine. And for that, I'm afraid, you and your companion must be eliminated.”

Before Marigold or Luna could react, Nyx lunged towards them, and the already shadowed world was cast into darkness.

…

Marigold puts down her pen with a sigh. She checks her phone for the time, and the glowing screen reads 7:34. Rubbing her eyes, she glances out the window of her little London flat. Storm clouds have already gathered outside. Raindrops trickle down the window as if the sky was crying.

She covers her mouth as she yawns, mentally exhausted from writing all day. Her stories always took a dark turn when she was tired. She would figure out the real ending tomorrow. She couldn’t actually end the story with her two main characters dying. 

She sighs. Every day is the same. If only she could actually escape into her stories instead of just writing about them, her life might be much more exciting.

The End