“Nooooooo! STOP! PLEASE!”
The blood-curdling scream jolted me from the depths of sleep, a shrill sound that pierced through my dreams like a shard of glass. Groggy and disoriented, I stumbled out of bed, my feet colliding painfully with the wooden floor. I winced, rubbing the back of my head as I blinked in confusion. Wasn’t my floor supposed to be carpeted?
As I sat up, the room swam into focus, and the familiar figures of a man and woman came into view. My mind struggled to piece together the fragments, and then it clicked: they were my parents—Brom and Scarlett. Yet, disquieting memories tugged at the edges of my consciousness, memories of playing a game with them, where they were mere characters—characters that had met tragic fates right before the protagonist's eyes. A sickening feeling twisted in my stomach as I glanced at the small bed I had just fallen from.
I stared at my hands, small and unfamiliar, adorned with oversized gloves that would have seemed comically large on a child. Beside them lay a pair of shoes that looked equally ridiculous. No, it couldn’t be. He and I had become the same person! It was impossible—such things simply didn’t happen!
Sunlight streamed through the window of our quaint cottage, bathing the room in a warm glow, but I felt cold inside. I had to see for myself. I dashed out of the house, my heart pounding in my chest, and ran to the nearest creek. When I caught sight of my reflection, dread washed over me. I was indeed the boy from Fable 1. The weight of my fate settled heavily on my shoulders; soon, my father would be killed, my mother kidnapped, and my sister blinded.
Sitting by the riverside, lost in thought, I stared into the water, feeling as though I were gazing into an abyss. How could I turn my back on these people, these beloved figures, and allow such horrors to unfold? Even if I mirrored the protagonist’s choices, there were no guarantees of survival. I was playing a game on ultra-high stakes, a relentless mode where every decision mattered. Telling my parents, as an eight-year-old, about the future seemed ludicrous. My sister, Theresa, screamed warnings of our grim fate each night, yet only Twinblade, the Bandit King of the future, seemed to heed her cries. But what she screamed was often incoherent, lost in a haze of confusion that few understood.
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It appeared that it was up to me to change the course of our destiny, yet I felt utterly unprepared. The protagonist hadn’t learned to harness Will powers until his late teens, a skill he acquired only at the Guild using a special platform. A platform he could not use freely until he graduated and earned a Guild Seal. I recalled the lore—the essence of magic in this world, known as “Will,” was nurtured through willpower, experience gained from defeating foes, and honed through what's hinted at as meditation. I remember the creators had originally envisioned this world as “Wish World.” While in meditation, I could shape a realm woven from specific magic, such as fire. Once this world was formed, I would gain access to basic fire magic. As I fed it experience—gathered from defeated enemies or might potions—the once lifeless realm of magic would flourish, and with it, the potency of my spells would increase. This was the key to my power, a process I needed to master to forge a different future for my family. Once I formed this realm, I could access basic fire spells, feeding it with the experience I garnered, watching it grow into something powerful.
But fire magic wasn’t what I needed now. I didn’t intend to waste my time on fire magic. What I needed most right now was time itself! Therefore, I would begin by cultivating time magic, giving myself more time to change our fates. Sneaking through the house, I quietly grabbed one of my father’s axes, the weight of it comforting in my hands. I had plans to hunt beetles in the woods, a task that seemed trivial but would serve my purpose. Just as I was about to slip outside, a voice rang out, sending a chill racing down my spine.
“What are you doing, little brother?”
Wasn't my floor carpeted? I asked myself.
Don't tell me... He and I have become the same person! It can't be, that simply doesn't happen!
