Chapter 36: The Truth About the Author

Telemain attended Cruella's meager funeral. The woman in the extravagant furs was hidden in a plain pine box. Mendanbar was there, but he only said a few words and read from Ezekiel 33 about how God does not delight in the death of the wicked and desires all wicked men to turn from their wicked ways. He spent most of that time making eye contact with the Dark One, but that was probably because he was one of the only guests there.

Afterwards, Telemain went up to the Dark One. "Well, I suppose you're breathing easier," the Dark One said to him.

"Hardly," Telemain answered.

"Well, are you here to warn me?"

"I already did, so I wouldn't tell you anything you don't already know."

"True. So, what is it?"

"I want you to occupy yourself with something unrelated to the author business, take over your darn shop for your afternoon, I don't care."

"Why should I?"

"I need to use your cabin, please. It's time for me to catch up with my former colleague."

"Well, lucky for you, I do have a personal matter I need to see to. So, the cabin is all yours for the afternoon."

"Excellent. Thank you."

"Though I'll warn you, he may not be in any position to talk. He was rather close to Cruella."

"He will. I will see to it."

The Tramp found Emma in the morning at the Sheriff's office. She was talking to Regina about a girl who was Emma's friend whose destiny was intertwined with hers. Regina somehow understood. "Our actions are our own, but fate pushes us, and maybe it's time we pushed back. I have to go to New York to rescue Robin from my insane sister, and you have to find this girl to redeem your parents and show Gold he's wrong about you, that he can't change you. What do you say we help each other?"

"What, like a road trip?" Emma asked.

"Well, if you want to call it that."

"I'm OK, Regina. I don't need a babysitter."

"Well, maybe, I need you. You lived in New York; I've barely been out of Storybrooke. How about it, Swan? How about we make this the day we both push fate?"

Emma didn't say anything for a while but then threw up her hands. "Whatever. I'm in."

The Tramp decided to use this opportunity. "Excuse me, ma'am, I couldn't help overhearing, and I wish to ask if I could possibly accompany you."

"Aren't you that beggar?" she asked.

"I prefer Tramp. There's a lady out there who's lost, once under Cruella's control, and I wish to bring her back. Whatever you're doing, I'm gonna stay out of your way. I just need to bum a ride."

"I don't know if I have enough room in my car for everybody, but I suppose maybe Regina or I can make a spell to create more space if we have to."

Regina pulled Emma aside and said softly, "I'm not sure that's a good idea. He's not really a man; he's a dog."

"What?"

"He was transformed into with the first curse. I found him in the woods, and he told me he wanted to be left alone. What could he find out there?"

"I have a hard time believing that."

"Oh, by the way," the Tramp spoke up, "what did you mean fate is like my mother?"

"What?" Regina asked.

"Wait, you humans tell 'your mama' jokes, right? Should I be insulted?"

"I wasn't talking about your mother! I don't know a thing about her!"

"Well, granted, I came in the middle of the conversation, but I plainly heard you say, 'Isn't fate a—?'"

"OH!" Regina actually blushed and turned away laughing hard. Then she calmed down, turned back and said, "I wasn't . . . I didn't know you were there. No offense. I didn't mean to disrespect you or your mother."

"Yeah, for your information, she was really nice. She just tended to be overprotective sometimes."

"That's what I meant. Fate is . . . overprotective. That can be a good quality sometimes."

Emma smiled. "I like you. Get in the car."

Telemain entered the cabin and found the author sitting alone. "Hello, Isaac. We need to talk."

"Another time, please. I'm grieving over losing a dear friend of mine.

"Awwe. Are those the same empty tears you shed when my master left?"

"For your information, Cruella and I—"

"My heart bleeds for you. You brought my son into this, and I want to know right away what your plan is, your real plan."

Isaac looked up. "Do you really wanna know?"

"Of course."

"Alright, I'll tell you." He shut his book and stood. "But first, there's something I want to ask you."

"No, no deals!"

"Come on, it's just a little question. It's been bugging me since the day we first met. You remember that, don't you?"

"Yes, very well."

Telemain was twelve years old. He finally had a plan about which guild to seek, but as he got on the grounds he discovered that he was not as certain as he previously thought. He only narrowed his choices. There was more than one guild where he could apply. He went to the first guild he thought he would be interested in—the Artisan Guild. "Hello. I would like to be a write of some sort?"

"Sorry, the position is filled," the man responded.

"Alright, thank you." That left him with two more choices, the Mage Guild and the Philosophy Guild. He decided to try the Mage Guild first. So he went to the tent and he saw a few people waiting in there, mostly old men wearing robes of various colors. One such man, with a long beard, approached Telemain. "Good day, lad. What brings you here?"

"I'd like to join your guild, please" Telemain answered.

"That is obvious, but why?"

"Because I would be a mage!"

"Why?"

He understood. This man was not going for the obvious answer. Telemain took a deep breath. "Ever since I can remember, I have been intelligent. I taught myself to read at three. I played and won chess matches at five. And I just love the feeling of learning new things. If I must choose a trade, I need a guild that will value intelligence and education, so it will forever be new to me. If this—"

But as he was speaking, a man in the back of the tent raised his head and looked straight at Telemain. He took off the hood of his violet-colored robe so Telemain could see him more clearly. He was a young man, not even with a beard, with short, strawberry blond hair and blue-green eyes. He stared at Telemain for a moment as though he was studying him. Then, he smiled. He had a very kind smile. He stood, went up to the man they were speaking to, and pointed at Telemain.

"Well done, young man," the older man said. "Nicodemus has chosen you as his apprentice."

Telemain forgot all his nerves and worries and immediately shook Nicodemus's hand. "Thank you very much, Mr. Nicodemus. My name's Telemain. I promise I won't let you down. I will be the best apprentice you-"

"There is no need to waste to waste your breath, lad. Nicodemus is Deaf."

Telemain withdrew his hand, ashamed. He had no idea. Fortunately, Nicodemus was still smiling, so apparently he was not offended. Nicodemus retreated to the back of the tent. "I don't understand. Sir, I don't want to seem ungrateful or doubtful, but how am I going to communicate with my master if he cannot hear me?"

"Do not fear, young man. Nicodemus is known as one of the wisest men in all the land. He would not be known as such if no one could speak with him."

"But how could he be so wise if he's so young?"

"You will learn that things are not always as they appear. He has his ways. You will learn them in time. Until he reveals them to you, follow him, and do whatever he indicates you to do."

Telemain nodded. "Alright." So he went in the tent and sat down.

Then a man age with unusually thick eyebrows sat across from you. "Got the Deaf guy, huh? That's bad luck."

"My, what big eyebrows you have," Telemain answered

"The better to do this." And he grinned and wigged them. He laughed, and Telemain chuckled, too. Then he extended his hand. "I'm Isaac."

"Ah, nice Biblical name."

"Yeah, means 'he laughs.' Always thought I was cut out to be a court jester or something. Who're you?"

"Telemain."

"Interesting name. How do you spell it?"

Seemed like an unusual request. "T-E-L-E-M-A-I-N."

He wrote it down. "Huh, television meets Main Street."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"So, are you another apprentice?"

"Well, I've already been employed. That guy you were just speaking to a moment ago requested my services."

"I guess that makes us . . . what's the word . . ."

"Colleagues?"

"Yes, colleagues."

"I suppose it does."

"So, here's what I've been wondering," Isaac said, bringing him back to the present. "How could he talk to you, and you to him, if he couldn't even hear you? Did you just write all the time? Did you have some sort of system of gestures, what?"

"How is that relevant now?"

"Well I guess it's not, but like I said, I've always wondered. And I'm not gonna tell you anything until you answer my question."

"DO YOU HAVE TO DO THAT?" Regina yelled.

The Tramp had the window rolled down all the way and had his head sticking out. "SHE COULD BE ANYWHERE! I'M TRYING TO GET HER SCENT!"

"I THINK THE SMELL OF GASOLINE WILL COVER IT UP! BESIDES, YOU'RE MESSING UP EVERYBODY'S HAIR!"

But he didn't listen. He kept his head out the window. Yet he never saw her or caught her scent. When they stopped at Lilly's old apartment, he stayed in the car, honoring his word that he would keep out of their way. After a few hours of driving, the car suddenly lurched forward and stopped. A wolf was standing in the road. The Tramp howled and barked at it, but it only trotted away. "WILL YOU SHUT UP?" Regina yelled.

"I'm trying to see if he saw her."

"I don't think he has."

They discovered that Emma got a flat tire. They went to the nearest restaurant to take a break. The Tramp said he wasn't hungry and decided to stay outside. He leaned against the building and played his harmonica. He practiced his favorite songs to play for her, whenever he found her. Then, to his surprise, someone recognized them.

A waitress who just came out of the diner on a break started singing with him, "Side by side with your loved one, you'll find enchantment here. The night will weave its magic spell when the one you love is near." He stopped playing and looked at her. "How do you know that song?"

"These Italian chefs serenaded me and my love on our first real date with that song. How do you know it?"

"There's this woman who always showed up on my birthday, and she'd sing it to me. Hey, do you know 'La-la-loo'?"

"What?"

"It's a lullaby. She'd sing that to me, too." She looked away. "It always amazed me how she could find me, even when I ran away. She said she made sure I was adopted, but she wanted to make sure I was OK. I always felt like she was the only person in the whole world who truly loved me."

"What did she look like?"

"She wore a white dress. She had brown eyes and long, brown hair that was parted down the middle so that it almost two long ears. And she had this pretty necklace, blue with this gold pendant."

"Was her name Lady?"

"No, she called herself Maddy."

"Ah, maybe she's not the same person."

She looked like she was about to say something else, but then Emma came out and talked to her. It turned out that same woman was the one she was looking for. So as they were talking, the Tramp got back in the car to think. Maybe she misheard the name. Maybe Lady had forgotten the name and started calling herself something similar. Or maybe it was someone completely different. But who else would know "Bella Notte"?

He fell into a dreamless sleep thinking, and he woke when the car suddenly started again because it jerked suddenly. He got up with a start and saw the woman from the café at the wheel. "What are you doing here?" they said almost at the same time.

She grinned after she got over the surprise. "You wanna find Maddy? Let's go look for her." And she sped the car away.

"So, how did you do it?" Isaac asked. "How did you get on speaking terms with ole Nick?"

"Will you quit calling him that?"

"What does it matter what I call him?"

"He has something I will never have for you—respect."

He thought back to the day. He spent most of the time staring at his master who was scribbling words in a book. Telemain wondered what he was writing and when they would leave. It wasn't until the end of the fair at sunset that Nicodemus looked up and shut his book. He stood, put the book under one arm, then looked at Telemain and gestured for him to follow. Telemain did.

They walked a good way away from the fairground, far from the town, into a field with long grass. Sheep were grazing on hills around them. Some cattle also were there, some geese, ducks. Telemain knew they were in a pastoral region, and he wondered if he had been employed by a mage or a farmer.

They came to a simple cottage. Nicodemus opened the door and gestured for Telemain to go inside. He saw a table, a couple of stools, and a fireplace, nowhere for him to sleep. There was a pot on the fireplace. Nicodemus fixed a fire and cooked a stew in the pot. Once it was ready, he gestured for Telemain to sit at the table, and he got him a bowl of stew. They silently prayed and ate. The first spoonful was absolutely delicious, very savory. Telemain didn't know how to tell his master, so he just smile and nodded. Nicodemus pointed out the window. Telemain looked out and saw the sheep and a small vegetable garden, and he understood that his master was saying that he made it himself. He gave him another impressed nod.

He had another bowl of soup, but once he came to the table with it, Nicodemus waved his hand, and the fire went out. That was the first bit of magic Telemain saw him do, but he was disappointing because he was hoping he could have thirds. Once they were done eating, Nicodemus took the pot and went outside to the back. He banged on the pot three times with the ladle, and a pig came trotting toward them. He poured the leftover stew in a trough, and the pig munched on the leftovers. Nicodemus patted its flank. Telemain thought it was a bit unfair that the pig would get the last of the soup when he was still hungry, but then he thought that maybe his master was fattening the pig up for a special meal, like Christmas.

Nicodemus led him back inside and opened the front door again. Only this time, it did not open to the front yard, it opened into a bedroom, where there was a bed prepared as well as a place to bathe. Nicodemus gestured for Telemain to enter, and he did, and Nicodemus closed the door behind him. Telemain prepared for bed, but all the while he pondered all of this and wondered if he made the right choice.

He didn't remember falling asleep. He got in bed and closed his eyes, and the next thing he knew, a hand touched his shoulder and it was daylight. Nicodemus was urging him to wake up. He rose and got dressed, and his master fed him eggs and fruit. Then, Nicodemus took a shepherd's crook, opened the front door, which opened to the outdoors again, and motioned for Telemain to follow.

They walked past the field to the edge of the forest where there was a freshwater stream that collected into a pool. Something about the air was eerily still, making the place feel very peaceful. Nicodemus took the shepherd's crook and stirred the water three times counter-clockwise. Once the water settled and was still again, Telemain could not believe his eyes. They had traded reflections. Telemain suddenly had his master's reflection, and as he touched his face, the reflection mimicked his behavior. Nicodemus, meanwhile, had pulled two small blue bowls out of his robe. He handed one to Telemain, then he dipped his bowl into Telemain's reflection and drank. Telemain imitated his behavior, but as he was drinking, he suddenly felt cold water all over face. His master had splashed him with the water in his bowl. Nicodemus smiled and made a laughing sound in his throat. Telemain was confused. Did his master just take him over here just to play a prank on him? Was this some sort of mage guild hazing? But then, Nicodemus came closer to him and touched a droplet of water on his forehead, and he traced it from one end of his forehead to the other. Once he took his finger away, Telemain heard a gentle voice in his head.

There.

Telemain took a step back. Did what he thought happen just happened?

That makes this easier, does it not? I am sorry I splashed you, but it was necessary to complete the spell.

"Master?"

There is no need to speak aloud, unless you find it easier. I am aware of you, and now you are aware of me.

"Aware of me?"

You were wise to say you value learning above all else. You have within you the same heart as Merlin, the greatest mage of all time. I have much to teach you.

"So he was telepathic?" Isaac said. "Nice, little sci-fi twist. I guess I was probably expected it. But if he was so powerful, why didn't he make a spell so he could hear?"

"He once told me hearing was the most distracting of the senses. Without it, he felt more at peace and was able to do magic more easily. I actually disagree; I believe one needs all five senses to have a full experience, but it worked for him, so to each his own."

"You know it was rather ironic, that time I visited you, it didn't seem like you were doing a lot of magic. Neither did he."

"Apprentices to magi never do learn much magic in the beginning of their training. He taught me about gardening and tending the animals. He read passages from the book about the history about the Enchanted Forest and surrounding regions and kingdoms. Basically, he taught me about life. He maintained that you must understand how to live before you could understand magic. I wondered how you came about with that little trick you showed me."

It was a year later when Telemain saw Isaac again. He and Nicodemus came to the apprentice's house to get some supplies, and Telemain visited with Isaac.

"Check this out," Isaac said. He pulled out of one of his pockets a little white mouse. "Presenting Mickey the wonder-mouse!"

"Ah, what a clever name."

"Look at what he can do." Isaac grabbed a spindle and put it on the table. "Come on, Mickey, do your little trick!" He waved his hand above the mouse, and it stood upright, started pushing the spindle across the table, and whistled a cheerful tune through his teeth. "How about that?"

"Does he like doing that?"

"Oh yeah, he's showing that he's happy. I saved his life; he was nearly killed by a cat."

"So that's what your master has been teaching you?"

"Yeah, it's something I picked up. What about you, Telemain? What can you do?"

"I can grow tomatoes and give a pig a bath."

"You haven't learned any magic at all?"

"Master says it's not time yet, but he's going to get around teaching me."

"Tell me about your master. It's gotta be weird working for a mage who's Deaf."

"It is something to get used to, but I know he's very powerful and very wise."

"Does he have a lot of girlfriends?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, he's pretty fresh-faced, lot more young and attractive than my master."

"He's actually several centuries old. He told me it's a spell, his inner beauty is what people see. I still think, though, he has some secret spell of eternal youth because he never gets tired. He's still very sharp, but still, romance is the last thing on his mind. That book he keeps writing in is probably the strangest thing."

"What book?"

"The history of the Enchanted Forest. He only reveals to me certain passages. I once tried to read it myself, but when I reached for it, my hands broke out into blisters. He never really explained why. All he told me was that wisdom means three things, 'See much, study much, suffer much.'"

"What does he write with?"

"Just a quill. He doesn't ever seem to run out of ink, though."

Telemain never seemed to realize that until he went over the memory. "I told about being the author."

"You don't understand, Telemain. I always was the author. The apprentice found me and hired me to be the author. But the way your master did it intrigued me. I learned from the apprentice that his quill could foretell the future, which was beyond my power."

"But you did have the power to manipulate the present, didn't you? When we were on that rescue mission, we split up. You said you would 'take care' of the witch, and you went with some of the warriors. I found the princess and used my powers to break her out of her chains. I came down and saw the warriors beating that witch to beyond recognition, and they killed her, and you were standing in the distance. I always assumed you cast a spell to restrain her magical powers, and they did the rest, but you were behind the whole thing, weren't you?"

"I was just giving her what she deserved."

"She could've had another chance. She could've repented!"

"Don't be so naïve. She was wicked to the core. She just would've continued in her dark ways and put more innocent people's lives at risk."

"People do repent when they're that wicked. The Dark One is probably the closest I have seen."

"But he hasn't, has he?"

"Not yet. I'm not giving up hope. My own master told me not to harm her, to leave her fate in God's hands."

"It's rather strange to hear someone known as so wise as so naïve."

The woman had lied to the Tramp. They weren't looking for Lady; she was just driving as fast as she could. Emma and Regina was chasing her in her own car. She finally stopped, and she and Emma confronted each other. It ended up with Emma pulling a gun on her, and she seemed to invite it. She held her arms out in a Christ pose. The Tramp stuck his head out the window, "NO, DON'T! SHE KNOWS ABOUT LADY!" It seemed like Emma didn't even hear him, but Regina convinced her to put the gun down.

Shortly after, they started driving to New York. He stuck his head out the window, but it wasn't until they stopped the car outside of Baelfire's apartment that he took a deep breath. "Hey, you may not want to inhale so deeply in New York."

"Whatever you dames are doing, you go ahead. I'll catch you later."

He got out and started walking against the crowd on the sidewalk. He didn't know how, but over the cigarette smoke, gasoline, and much more unpleasant odors, he noticed something much more familiar.

Finally, he saw a woman standing on the sidewalk corner in a white dress. She had dark, brown, wavy hair that almost looked like two long ears, and she looked confused and frightened. He came closer to her. "Lady?"

She backed away. "I don't have much money, and I'm not looking for a good time."

"Lady?"

"Well, what else do you want? I'm just lost!"

"You feel like you were looking for something, and then you forgot what it was."

"Yes, exactly."

"There's a reason why. Perhaps it's about time to search for something else, like I've been searching for you."

"Who are you? And how do you know me?"

"You worked for Cruella de Ville. She called you 'Maddy,' didn't she? I figured it out. 'Maddy' is short for 'Mademoiselle,' which is French for Lady. As for me, well, last time I did this was by accident, but I think you liked it." And he kissed her lips.

She pulled away for a moment, but then she smiled. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. You want to go somewhere to eat, catch up?"

"Sure. I know a place that serves really good spaghetti."

"Spaghetti. That brings back memories!" They both laughed and walked on, hand in hand.

Telemain went through one last memory silently. It was days after Nicodemus left for the Summer Country. Isaac came, alone, to his house. "I came as soon as I heard. I'm so sorry, Telemain." Isaac gave him a hug and wept. Telemain was still in grief, though he no longer had strength to cry.

He invited Isaac in. "I'm trying to be strong. One of the last things he told me was not to be grieved and, 'No one leaves for good.' He also said that my next step in my training is achieved. I'm a magician now. So, how are you doing?"

"You know, actually, I've decided I'm done with magic. The trick with Mickey was the best thing I ever did. And I have been thinking what you were saying after the whole Llyr affair. Maybe I did let my emotions get the better for me."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna travel to realms, you know, see what there is to see, meet people. Still, we truly lost a great soul in your master. I just . . ." He burst into tears again. "Sorry, do you have a privy?"

"Yes, back there, just around the corner."

"Thank you. Be right back." He went into the back of the house. For the first time, Telemain realized, that was when he did it. That was when he stole Nicodemus's quill.

So he spoke aloud, "You said you would tell me what your endgame will be. I lived up to my end of the deal. We've done enough reminiscing. Now, spill it! Or I know some spells that can make your life very difficult."

"Fine! You know what I'm gonna do? I gonna give Rumpelstiltskin exactly what he wants—a little happiness, a little victory, a little getting his way when the world has been stomping on him."

"That's why you're helping him? You're not in his debt?"

"Oh, he's protecting me, and he's also agreed to get me a special kind of ink. I mean, it's great that this is a self-inking quill, but for what I need to do, I require a little darkness."

"Seriously. You're going to write him a happy ending?"

"Oh, I didn't say that." He stood and started pacing. "See, that's the beautiful part about being the author—the story doesn't end until I say it does. So I'll let them have their fun now, but I'll come back for a couple of sequels, and then we'll have the real ending where justice is met."

"What's going to happen?"

"I've been playing with a few ideas, and they involve your son. You should be proud! Really it was, forgive the pun, a stroke of genius naming him after literature's first real hero. OK, I know, that's technically Gilgamesh, but that's not a cuddly baby name, is it?"

"No, I'm not gonna let that happen!" He once again fought Isaac for the quill, and this time, he succeeded in getting it in his hand. "There is only one way to end all this insanity." He grasped the quill from both ends.

"What are you doing?" Isaac said.

Telemain started to bend it.

"Don't . . . I thought you loved your son!"

Telemain relaxed his grip. "What about him?"

Isaac pulled out of his jacket a piece of parchment. "When I first learned of the nature of the curse, I wrote with the quill a list of things that would happen whenever the curse was broken. I didn't put them in the book, 'cause, you know, don't wanna spoil the ending. Most of it was pretty obvious, 'Snow White and Prince Charming would be reunited with each other and their daughter. Regina reign of terror would come to an end. Rumpelstiltskin would bring magic to the world without magic.' Ah, here it is, 'Telemain will have a child.'" He put the paper away and looked at Telemain. "I don't know how, but I heard about your fertility problems in the Enchanted Forest, and I felt sorry for you. I felt like you needed a break."

Then he took a darker tone. "You break that quill, and you'll break all those promises. Storybrooke will go back to its pre-cursed state and just turn back into an ordinary town full of extraordinary problems. No one will remember their past in the Enchanted Forest, not even those who weren't affected by the curse. You'll lose your son, and you may never ever have another one."

Telemain shook his head. "You're bluffing. Beowulf was a miracle. There's a big difference between magic and miracles!"

"Then I guess God is on my side. No wait, as long as I have this, I am God!"

"Your hubris will do you in!"

"You don't believe me? Then go ahead, break it."

Telemain held the quill in his fingers for a while and contemplated what to do. Finally, he decided it wasn't a risk. He threw it back at Isaac. "This is in no way condoning you or any of your admissions. I will find a way to stop you."

"How are you going to do that? Convince the Dark One not to do it? Then you better come up with an alternative pretty quick, because he's running out of time."

Telemain's eyes grew wide as he realized what he was saying and ran out.