The door to the inn shrieked as it swung open. The air inside was rather clammy, but it beat the freezing cold from outside. Why did Will set his story in the winter again?

I greeted the innkeeper, but kept my face hidden underneath my cape. I should be careful, this was the third time I visited his story at this point. If one of his creations caught on, I could easily disrupt the flow of his story. I didn’t want to give him a block or change too much.

I sat down in a corner and ordered myself a pint of stale beer. How I wished Will hadn’t given the inn such a bad reputation, but nothing to do about that now. I just needed to live with it.

With a small flick, I glanced at the dial on my wrist. If the story progressed as usual, Christian should enter the inn in a minute with his donkey. Last time, the animal pissed wine but no matter how much he tried to convince the rest, nobody seemed overly enthusiastic to try it. Maybe now that it pissed gold, the villagers would be impressed and Will could progress with the tale.

Right on time, the door of the inn swung open and Christian waltzed into the pub. His blonde hair wet from the miserable rain, but his eyes were swirling with excitement. Not a surprise, he always was the cockiest of the three brothers. So far, Christian was my least favourite, but of course, I couldn’t tell Will that. He would be crushed.

“My good man, I’ve brought you wonders!” Christian yelled through the inn. With no regard for the other customers, he sat down at the bar and waved at the innkeeper. “I require a tankard, but keep it empty!”

The bearded man serving drinks gave the blonde a strange look, but he didn’t question his strange request. Not a surprise, he probably was used to all kinds of bizarre travellers.

With all the show he could, Christian grabbed the mug and hurried back outside. I quickly threw the last of my beer back, and pinched my nose shut. Will fooled me once, but now I was prepared for the stench of wet donkey.

As expected, Christian tugged the animal into the inn and a whole bunch of people jumped up.

“No animals allowed inside!” the innkeeper called, but Christian didn’t listen.

“This is not a regular animal, my good man! This is a magic steed,” he shouted enthusiastically. A sceptical murmur ran through the inn and I could tell everyone was rolling their eyes at this fair young man. Not a surprise, he really behaved like a cocky shit.

“Allow me to demonstrate!” he called as he waved the empty tankard in the air. He tapped the donkey on his ass and yelled. “Bricklebit!”

Where Will found that word, I didn’t know, but it made no sense. Oh well, at least it was a funny sound.

The donkey brayed and out came a steady stream of gold. I cringed as I watched the spectacle and wished I could already step out of this chapter. How did we not think this through? The gold looked even more like piss than the wine did. No chance in hell any of the villagers would want to try or taste it.

Wait.

There was nothing to taste.

Oh no, Will didn’t adjust the rest of his manuscript. Christian was still going to drink from the tankard so he could prove it wasn’t piss. Shit. That was not good. Once a character dies, it was really hard for the storyteller to turn it back around. But Christian couldn’t die, this was his story. That was not how Will wanted to tell this tale.

Damn. I checked my dial and cursed again. I couldn’t just call for a portal and jump out of the story. I would be too late.

Christian brought the cup to his lips and I jumped up. “Is that gold?” I called out, pulling everyone’s attention to the contents. I could feel the universe shriek as I broke the fourth wall, but it quickly morphed back to its usual form.

“Well, of course, it is!” Christian shouted, waving the tankard in front of everyone’s face. He didn’t notice the change. Nobody did. The laws of the fictional worlds were too well-designed for that. The liquid splashed out of the cup and sizzled as it fell onto the ground.

“Aaaah, it burns!”

“You brat, that hurts!”

“I’ll kill you.”

A heavy man with a long beard got up to Christian’s face with balled fists. “You idiot, what game are you playing?”

All the colour disappeared from his cheeks and I could tell he was becoming confused. Not a surprise, this was not how Will wrote the story. A loud smack echoed through the inn and with a thud, Christian fell to the ground. The crowd cheered on the assailant and I quickly slipped away from the spectacle. The door shrieked and cold wind clashed in my face. Tensions were running high inside and I needed to get myself to safety. I couldn’t get caught up in this brawl, no, I needed to report back to Will and have him fix this inconsistency.

I blew out a cloudling of smoke and tried not to feel too sad. I should be honoured and pleased that Will lets me work so closely with him. Or that he trusts me when I told him something didn’t work. That was a lot more responsibility than us Dwellers usually get. And that was all I would ever get. We were Dwellers, not storytellers.

Not storytellers...

I checked that nobody was around and called on the portal. The magic swirled as the pathway to Will’s universe opened. I smiled, I liked his portal. The colours were vibrant and complex, but only us Dwellers could see them. What a shame. But at least people could read the stories Will is telling. It wasn’t the same as the beautiful mix of colours, but was as close as non-Dwellers could get.

With a shiver, I left the winter’s night behind me as I crossed the bridge between this world and Will’s. Not that I minded, as amazing as his world are, nothing beat being around the storyteller himself.