There comes a time in every girl's youth when she decides to embark upon a journey of self discovery to find out who she truly is and what her purpose in life may be. Even the most affluent and privileged teens feel the need to seek out meaning despite (or perhaps because of) their lack of experience in the real world. Lily was no exception. The day after she turned twenty, she found herself overwhelmed by a dismal emptiness that was slowly taking over her very consciousness, eating away at the fabric of her soul like some sort of conceptual parasite. She did not know why she felt this way, and could not say for certain if it was the result of her entrance into adulthood or just another spell of teenage angst. Perhaps the sentiment stemmed from the fact that this milestone had already been reached when she had nothing to show for it. She hadn't accomplished much in two decades, and did not feel worthy of the title "adult".
It wasn't like she expected to become a different person after her birthday: she knew better than that. Most people accomplished very little in their lifetime, even after the age of twenty. Despite this knowledge, she was frustrated by the fact that she had not yet discovered who she truly was, nor what she was destined to accomplish (assuming she could be of any use at all). She did not expect to be a prodigy like her mother, nor did she expect to have the next eighty years of her life planned out- also like her mother- but she at least wanted some idea of what her existence was building up to. For as long as she could remember, she had been known as her mother's daughter, and she was proud of this fact even now, but it was starting to feel like that was all she would ever amount to. She was just a footnote on the page of an otherwise excellent lineage.
It was true that her mother in particular was quite extraordinary, accomplishing feats that Lily could only dream of (and would certainly never attempt on her own), but it wasn't necessary (or possible) to outshine her in order to feel validated. Lily would be content with a less impressive destiny, as long as she was able to figure out what she was striving for. If she formed an identity of her own, she would not simply be the child of her mother, but also a person with self-actualization and the like. This was her quest, and now, at the age of twenty, she was ready to begin her journey.
The only trouble was, she didn't know where to start. How does one find their true purpose? Theoretically, they would stumble upon it by accident, but if Lily was still wandering about idly after two decades, she would have to help things along. It was time to make her own luck, and that meant she would have to find a starting point for her spirit quest.
It is said that they key to the future lies in the past, and Lily must have taken these vague and only somewhat accurate words to heart, for she summoned memories of her childhood to see if there was anything that might help her discover the reason she was alive. Somehow, she got to thinking about The Land Before Time. To say that the film had defined her childhood would be an understatement, and that statement wasn't simply influenced by the arrogance born from nostalgia. No, Lily had felt a connection with the movie that was quite tangible and unique. Unlike most children who grew up with The Land Before Time, Lily had the distinct perspective of a dinosaur-child watching a film about dinosaur-children. On top of that, she was not a purebred dinosaur, but an amalgamation of stegosaurus, triceratops, and yes, Homo sapiens. She had much in common with the characters she so admired, as they were not actual dinosaurs themselves, but hybrids born of the imagination. They were not literal hybrids like Lily, of course, but what else would you call prehistoric animals created by the minds of human artists? Dinosaurs, pure and true, had been lost to the ages, and now only existed in their altered forms. Some interpretations were more accurate than others, but none could ever attain perfection. There was no true dinosaur in modern times, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Losing dinosaurs was akin to shedding hair: the replacements may not be the same, but they served their purpose, nonetheless.
Then again, loss of any kind was tragic. Lily's past was speckled with moments she would like to forget, but in general, the feeling of missing out on something that could have remained under different circumstances was not a pleasant sensation. Lily was not immune to the sorrow caused by change and decay, and she feared abstract concepts relating to these ideas more than she cared to admit.
Lily's worries collided with her nostalgia when she became aware of a loss she never knew she had been a part of, one originating in the movie she felt such fondness towards. After a bit of research, she discovered that a good ten minutes of footage had been cut from The Land Before Time prior to its release, and the only remnants of these scenes were scattered through bits of media and trailers. Determined to find the lost footage in its entirety, she searched every corner of the Internet, but was unable to piece together anything significant.
Hope was reignited when she brought up her situation in idle conversation while organizing files in the presence of a dragon. She wasn't keen to spend time with this magical creature, as the dragon bore a fierce grudge against Lily's mother, but when she mentioned her quest, everything changed. The dragon froze in place, then turned towards her slowly.
"You care . . ."
"Care?" she echoed, batting her eyes.
"You care about the lost footage," the dragon elaborated, "You want to find it."
"Yes? . . ."
"How long have you been looking?"
"Hours, but I just started."
The dragon's eyes went wide.
"And you haven't given up yet?"
"I'm running into a lot of dead ends, but if you know how to find the footage, I'd be glad to-"
Suddenly, the dragon wrapped her tail around Lily's waist and dropped her in a chair before hopping over the back of a couch to sit down and start a real discussion. She stared into her eyes, which Lily knew was unusual for this particular dragon.
"Lily, I've been searching for the lost footage for years."
"Have you found it?"
"Not all of it, but a lot. And I've been piecing the film together like a mystery, searching for clues no one else has noticed."
Lily wagged her tail.
"Great! Can I see?"
The dragon's expression changed. Lily wasn't sure what emotion she trying to convey, exactly, and wondered if this was what the dragon felt like most of the time. She decided it would be rude to ask.
"Lily, I can see the narration. I know what you're thinking."
When she winced, the dragon shook her head.
"No, I don't mean it in a bad way. To answer your question, I often can't read people- maybe more than I realize- but it's not set in stone. You can't see the world through my eyes, nor I through yours, so the best we can do is observe the patterns and assume that the most frequent reaction is the norm. It's not always accurate, but mathematically, it makes sense. That's why I was under the impression that no person on your end of the spectrum- that is to say, off it- would care about what I was trying to accomplish."
Lily cocked her head.
"Well, I think a great deal of people devote their time to personal dreams . . ."
"Yes, but this is no ordinary dream, and I don't dedicate myself to it in the same way others might. I'm obsessive, thorough, and so deeply invested in finding the lost footage that you might think me insane, which by all means, I am."
The dragon fixed her eyes on a random area of the floor.
"I didn't want to ask anyone for help, because I was certain they'd laugh at me. There are others who have dedicated their time to this pursuit, but I assumed they were people like me. Us ND's, we can't do this alone. We need NT's like you to see what we can't see, just as we see the areas you implicitly ignore. We're like rods and cones: our functions are similar, but what we pick up is vastly different."
Lily nodded.
"I think I see what you mean. Does this mean you'll help me?"
"It's more the other way around, if you're up to it. I must warn you: it will be dangerous."
Lily blinked.
"Dangerous?"
The dragon pulled a book out of thin air. When she opened it, Lily realized it wasn't a book at all, but a doorway to another world hidden under a fairly banal cover. The dragon held up the rectangular window, revealing a universe Lily recognized.
"That's The Land Before Time . . ." she whispered in awe.
"The universe of the film. Before I gathered fictional characters in a multicanon metropolis, I preserved a collection of works that had been censored or otherwise edited in a secret library. Of these works, this particular film became the one I cared about the most. I carried the book with me, obsessed with restoring the original version, but as time went on, I realized that I was alone in my endeavors, not because I was the only one trying, but because my dream was some fringe pipe dream, and the world as a whole could care less about whether I succeeded or failed."
Lily twisted her lips.
"How could you possibly fail? Weren't you omnipotent at one point?"
The dragon folded her ears and frowned.
"Lily, if I fixed every movie before it was tampered with, there would be no existing works that deviated from the artist's vision. It's not moral to guarantee a world without obstacles. I'd rather fix a mistake than prevent it entirely."
Lily frowned with puzzlement.
"That almost makes sense, but I'm not sure it's one hundred percent logical."
"Hardly anything is. I'm aware that it sounds like a cheap dismissal of your concerns, but think of it this way: in seeking out what we've lost, we are being blessed with an opportunity. This is an adventure, Lily, as well as a burden. It is now up to us to find these lost scenes and restore what was denied to pop culture. Along the way, we'll discover our own purpose. This is what you were hoping for: a chance to prove yourself. The pain of loss is but a conflict we must resolve, and when we do, the filmic canon will be just a little better for it."
Lily nodded.
"That sounds horribly convoluted, but I'm interested. How do we start?"
The dragon set down her book, then made it grow. The doorway was now large enough for Lily to fit through.
"You want me to go inside?"
"Yes. Only one may venture through, and if you fail, there are no second chances. I'd have done it myself, but I don't trust in my ability to pull this off. Instead, I will guide you through the story as it happens, and when you have ensured that everything occurs as it should have in the deleted scenes, the uncut film will become the true canon."
Lily nodded.
"So what's the danger?"
"If you interfere with the story in any way, the pure, uncut world contained in this book will be altered. Should this occur, my failsafe mechanism will destroy the book. We'll forever lose the cut scenes . . . Oh, and you'll be destroyed with them."
Lily blinked.
"Okay, so you want me to go into this world, see what happens, and avoid changing anything since doing so would kill me?"
"And destroy the canon in the process. But yes."
"This seems really complicated. Are you sure you can't just use your dragon powers to bring back the uncut film?"
"What satisfaction is there in winning a game of chess if you simply slap your opponent's pieces off the board?"
"So I'm risking my life for your ego?"
"No, for the sake of fairness. A world without challenges is robbed of the sweetest human feature: the ability to care."
"Neither of us is fully human . . ."
"I mean it in the philosophical sense. My point being: this is the moment you face a new struggle, and with a little luck, you'll evolve as a person. The greater the pain, the greater the victory."
Lily nodded.
"Okay. I'll do it."
"Should we ask your mother first?"
Lily winced. The dragon shrugged noncommittally.
"I don't particularly care for her, but I figured I should ask because this feels like the kind of thing that could get us both in trouble."
Lily stared at the doorway that connected the two worlds. The dragon was right. What would Lily's mother think of this expedition into unfamiliar territory? The last time she'd run away, she had narrowly avoided disaster, and at great cost. But this time, she wasn't endangering anyone other than herself. There was no way of stopping her once she crossed the border. For once, she was completely and utterly independent. Regardless of the danger that lay ahead, this was what she wanted. Her mother had been protecting her ever since she was born, perhaps shielding her more than was necessary, and while Lily understood that her actions were carried out because of love, sometimes she needed to be shown that she underestimated the resilience of her daughter. All Lily needed was a chance, and she wouldn't get that chance if she warned her mother. She didn't feel comfortable deceiving the people she loved, but if the ends justified the means . . . Well, it was still pretty dishonest. Could she really lie to the woman who had shown her so much love through the years? Did she have an obligation to follow her heart or listen to the sensible side of her reasoning that told her this was a bad idea? What was the best possible solution?
"We'll tell her once it's done."
And just like that, she ventured into the world of her childhood.