This story that has just been sitting on my desktop for years. It is kind of inspired by several different stories where people can affect the stories, and by my frequent musings about how a story could be different if one detail was changed. It is the first of a series—I hope! :) So, let me know what you think, but constructive criticism only please! (Oh, and Fabula Figetrix is Latin for Story Fixer.)
Chapter 1
Discovery
My name is Beth. I am the owner and manager of special store in a town. I have practically every book, move, and every other form of stories, ever written for sale in my store, and I never run out of stock, but that's not why it's special. The name of the store says it all. Happy Everendings.
There's also something special about this town. Works of fiction in this town have a habit of changing their stories. Well, it's not the story, per say, that they change, but one day you might pick up Pride and Prejudice and find that Elizabeth has accepted Mr. Collins' proposal, or Mr. Darcy never explained to Elizabeth about his sister and Wickham. This is where my special store comes in.
When I was a child, my mother and father read me books all the time. I learned to read at a very young age, and I've been reading ever since. About the age of thirteen, I discovered something odd as I was reading one of my favorite books, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
I had just gotten to the part where Edmund had finished his conversation with the White Witch (which was nothing like I remembered it being), and his sister Lucy had found him again. She asked him what he had been doing, and instead of saying he had done nothing, he said that he had talked to a lady with jet black hair and very red lips, who called herself queen. Lucy gasped. "You've met the White Witch," she exclaimed. "Who?" Edmund asked. Lucy proceeded to explain who the White Witch was to her brother. Then, they hurried back through the wardrobe to find Peter and Susan.
I paused and thought for a moment. What had happened? I continued reading to see if I had just never noticed that part before. However, things got stranger as the book went on.
Peter and Susan came to Narnia with Edmund and Lucy. Lucy suggested they go find Mr. Tumnus, and all eagerly agreed. They found Mr. Tumnus' house all intact, and Tumnus was inside drinking tea.
I knew something was wrong with the book. I decided to write down what I remembered happening in the book and the then read the rest of the book to see if it ever got back on track. It never did.
I couldn't believe the book had changed! I figured out that for some reason, Edmund was nice. He was not a traitor. It was a seemingly small thing, and one that readers often took for granted, but it changed the story significantly.
I knew I needed some help with this. Therefore, I went to find my mother. She explained to me that I was adopted. I gasped and asked her why she had never told me before. She said that it was because she and my father found me in a basket in the forest with a note saying I must never be told who was until I saw a book change. She went on to explain that there was another letter, and they had no idea what it meant, so they just put the letter away and forgot about it.
I asked her who I was, at which she went to her bedroom, and then returned with the letter I was given as a baby. She told me to read it. I obeyed.
My Dearest Bethanney,
You are my sunshine and my joy. Unfortunately, my situation does not allow me to keep you. As I am writing this your father, whom I loved very much, but was never able to marry, was killed in battle two days ago. We are in the midst of a war, and even the women are fighting in this great hour of need. Our race is being erased from history; we have no choice but to fight.
Oh, but the days of our glory were magnificent! We are the Fabula Figetors (though a female is usually referred to as a Figetrix).
You see, stories are funny things. They feed off of people's minds and their thoughts about them, and when people think about various ways they could end, or begin, or happen in between, they make those changes in their stories.
This can be a very bad thing because stories are not intelligent, and if they are not fixed and put back the way they should be, they will change so many times that they will forget what they were originally supposed to tell. This is where we come in.
Each Figetor, or Figetrix, has the ability to fix these stories that have gone awry. We do this by entering the story and prompting the characters to make the right decisions, or making sure they get to where they need to be on time.
It usually takes many years of training before one of us can become a true master at changing stories. The key is to have a good memory, so that no matter how many ways, or how many times the story is messed up, we can always make it go back to the way it is supposed to be. Also, a Figetor must never be seen or noticed by the characters in the book. If a Figetor is seen by other characters, the Figetor risks becoming a part of the story, and he is trapped there forever—or at least until the end of the story. He must always do his nudgings and promptings by putting objects in characters' paths, or sending anonymous letters to characters, so planting ideas in their heads. If a Figetor happens to be seen by a main character, he can quickly exit the story and wait until the character moves on. If a Figetor is seen by a lesser character, he can quickly hide somewhere in the setting of the story and wait until the character moves on. Main characters are always more curious, and it will affect even the Figetor's ability to fix the story if he gets too involved with a main character.
Well, that is all I have time for now, my dearest daughter. I wish I could keep you, but I know that would be selfish, for I would be taking you to your doom. No, I am giving you up in hopes that you can find a new life and maybe begin to help some people. But do be careful. Humans are very fearful of us, for they do not understand that we can only alter people's lives in stories—not real life.
Oh, one more thing before I go. In order to enter a story, you must find your word. This word can also be used to exit the story at any time. (It can also be turned into an adjective inside the story to help you move objects in the story.) No one can find this word for you. You must find it on your own. It will come to you; all you have to do is wait. Very few people have the same word. Say your word when you are ready to enter, and you will find yourself in the story. And don't worry about blending in. You will automatically be outfitted in the proper fashion for that story.
Good luck, my young Fabula Figetrix! I love you!
~Your Mother, Yvaine
I looked up at my mother. She smiled and pulled me into an embrace. I hugged her back.
When she let go, I asked her if I might practice so I could fix my book. She said I could and that I could use some of her old short stories she wrote in college. She assured me that she didn't care if they were forever messed up. I thanked as I jumped up and down. Smiling, she went to get her short stories. When she returned, I thanked her and hugged her. Then, I hurried off to my room to try to find my word.
It was several weeks before my word came to me. I was reading my mother's short stories for the thousandth time, when I thought, "These are magnificent! Why would she not care about these?" That's when it hit me. Magnificent! That was my word. Magnificent!
A grin spread across my face as I began to jump up and down. "Magnificent!" I exclaimed. Suddenly, I found myself in a dark wood with a dress and a corset. I heard a wagon not far off, and I heard a girl scream. I ran to the edge of the wood, and I saw before me a scene straight from my mother's short story. I gasped. I had done it! I silently screamed with joy. I watched to see if something was amiss. Sure enough, I found that the girl was not putting up a fight as the man from the wagon was trying to kidnap her.
"How can I fix this?" I thought. "I can't go in there and fight for her because then I'll alter the story too much like my birth mom warned me about. No, I have to find a way to get her to fight, but without her noticing me." I thought for a long time—too long! The wagon had already gone away before I came up with a decent plan. "Blast!" I whispered. "Well, this is just magnificent!"
At that, I found myself in my room, in my own clothes. I sighed. How was I going to fix this? I read the rest of the story and compared it to my notes. It was definitely not the happy ending my mother had written before. I wondered how far back the changes started, so I decided to read from the beginning and find out.
It happened that the main character had received some news she should not have, which made her stop fighting. I wondered if I could jump back into the story before she received the news so I could prevent her from finding out the news. I decided there was nothing to lose, so I shouted, "Magnificent!"
I was standing in a tavern, again in my same dress. I saw the guy who told the main character the news that made her despair and knew I must stop him. I looked around for anything I could use and I saw an empty beer glass. Grabbing it from the table, I knelt down and slid it across the floor. The man tripped on it, which sent him sprawling. I peeked around the booth, behind which I had knelt, to see the main girl get to her feet and quickly exit. "Magnificent!" I smiled.
When I was back in my room, I read the story. "And suddenly, an empty beer glass came out of nowhere…," I read. I compared it to my notes on the correct story. He tripped over an empty beer glass in my notes, which sent him sprawling. I smiled. "And to think, that was me that sent that beer glass across the floor," I thought proudly.
I continued to practice on my mother's short stories for several years. Then, on my eighteenth birthday, I decided to try and fix my copy of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. I knew it was going to be a hard one to fix because I had to make Edmund be a traitor, and how do you make someone be a traitor?
I decided to write out the entire story as I remembered it, that way I could make sure I was putting it back the way it was supposed to be. Then, I read my messed up copy.
I discovered it was an incident early on in Edmund's life that had been altered. His family had reacted a different way. I had to make sure his family reacted the way they were supposed to so he would become a traitor.
I decided to hang around until his meeting with the White Witch just to make sure he said the right things. He did. He told her about his sister and Mr. Tumnus, and all about Peter and Susan. I whispered, "Magnificent," and was transported back to my room. I finished reading the rest of the book and smiled. I had done it!
