Saving Fable

by Scott Reintgen

  And just like that she was elsewhere.

  Every cage has a key.

  Those were the first words she heard. Indira’s eyes opened to cradle-blue sky. She felt soft and new. Everything looked a little too bright, every sound a little too sharp. The words echoed in her head and stretched across the sky as chalk-white clouds. Indira started to read the cumulous letters aloud:

  “Every cage…”

  Indira couldn’t finish the sentence. It felt as though her lungs hadn’t managed to fill up with enough air yet. She took a few seconds just to breathe. After a minute, Indira pushed to her feet. She brushed dirt off her shirt.

  Hidden birds chirped on her right. A stash of trees and paths were working up the courage to call themselves a forest. On her left, a massive canyon was marked by a wooden signpost. It took a few seconds of squinting for her to realize that directions were etched into the wood.

  The sign read: INDIRA STORY—ADVENTURE THIS WAY.

  An arrow pointed toward the sprawling canyon. Indira frowned. Why would the sign be pointing to the edge of the cliff? The safest way was clearly in the other direction. A trail led through the trees. For the first time, she noticed the great domes of whitewashed buildings. The sight stirred excitement in her chest. Fable. That was actually Fable in the distance.

  She glanced back at the sign. “Adventure this way? Why that way?”

  “I believe I can explain.”

  A man’s voice cut crisply across the quiet. Indira flinched. She hated being snuck up on. She turned to find a perfectly average man striding forward. How he had arrived or how long he had been there, Indira didn’t know. His features were plain. Not the kind of person one would notice in a crowd. The only thing that did catch Indira’s attention was his fingers. They danced and drummed and snapped. He looked as if he were rolling an invisible coin across his knuckles.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” he said. A business card appeared in his hands like magic. She took it, eyeing silver letters that looked on the verge of vanishing:

  Deus Ex Machina

  Provider of Convenient Solutions

  “So you’re Deus?”

  He winced. “That blasted Percy Jackson. Everyone always thinks my name rhymes with Zeus now. The pronunciation is actually ‘day,’ as in ‘What a fine day it is outside,’ followed by ‘us,’ as in ‘You and I are about to go on an adventure.’ Day. Us. Deus. Savvy?”

  “Got it,” she said. “Provider of convenient solutions?”

  He smiled wider. “That would be me.”

  “But what does that even mean?”

  He chanted, “When they don’t know what to say, and have completely given up on the play, reach over and press the right button, and a convenient solution will come running.”

  Indira raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Let’s try it in simpler terms,” Deus said, gesturing across the canyon. “Imagine two henchmen have cornered you. There’s no chance of escape. But, at the last second, you remember there are magical birds beneath the cliffs that will fly you to safety.”

  Indira glanced at the canyon. “Magical birds.”

  “Why not? If you’re going to be rescued, you might as well be rescued in style.”

  He stepped past her, eyeing the canyon, feeling the weight of the air with one hand. She watched him snap his fingers twice, firm and loud, before turning around.

  “Ready, Indie?”

  “For what?” she asked.

  “I’m your mentor. I’ll be escorting you to Fable, of course!”

  She pointed to the ADVENTURE THIS WAY sign.

  “We have to climb across a canyon?”

  Deus laughed. “Do I look like someone who climbs? Life affords so many other more interesting possibilities.” He removed a pair of goggles and positioned them over his eyes. “Do as I do and not as I say…or something like that.”

  Indira gasped as Deus turned and leaped over the edge. Her eyes went even wider as wind rushed up from below and a pair of dark wings unfolded. Deus had landed on the shoulders of a massive black bird. The creature beat its wings twice, hovering over the edge of the canyon.

  Deus shouted, “Your turn!”

  She cocked her chin. “I just jump?”

  “Only if you want to fly.”

  Something about the way Deus said that made him look anything but average.

  Most people would have hesitated. Made their cautious way to the edge and looked for some sign that the majestic bird really was below, ready to sweep up and save them. Indira wasn’t most people. She let out a wild yawp that echoed over the canyon and threw herself into the empty air.

  A second black bird curled into existence beneath her. Indira’s jaw shook with the impact. She slid dangerously down the bird’s bony back, but not before seizing a handful of feathers to pull herself back up. Adrenaline thundered through her. She didn’t take a breath until the dark wings swept out like blank canvases. An eager wind carried them higher, and Deus shouted in wild celebration as both birds soared upward.

  Indira caught a final glimpse of the forest before the clouds swallowed the sight. Her bird broke through the white and gave her a view that left her even more breathless.

  The whole world spread out below them, full of unknown. Mountains loomed to the south like great iron footprints. A glittering ocean framed the shoreline. She wondered if that was where she had come from, if all the boys and girls back in Origin were somewhere in that bright distance. A curtain of green covered everything else. She eyed the winding hills and forests until her eyes landed once more on the majestic city of Fable.

  White buildings gleamed like seashells uncovered by retreating tides.

  Deus whistled. She looked over in time to see him urge his bird into a dive. Indira clenched her knees, flattened against her mount’s back, and dove after him. The force of the wind ripped the air from her lungs. The two of them plunged into a blur of green and blue and white, and Indira could feel the word adventure pounding through her head like a promise.

  Wings swept out, and both birds landed gracefully. Indira leaped from her bird, landing with a little roll. Deus gave a nonchalant clap of approval. The great birds ruffled their feathers, and smoke gasped out. Sunlight scattered the dark mists into nothing. Indira might have been amazed by the flight, or the strange creatures, but the city gates towered before her.

  The city of Fable was already casting its spell.

  Now, dear reader, I must pause once more. It is one thing to describe Fable, and quite another thing to explain the way a character feels when they first reach the city’s outer walls.

  So take a deep breath and think about the last time you visited the beach. Stumble down that familiar boardwalk. Dig your toes into the sand. Look out at the vast ocean. Watch the waves give just to take. When you have the image set in your head, think about how small you really are. An ocean is deep. An ocean is wide. Every night it slow-dances with the moon. You are small by comparison, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

  That’s how Indira felt as she followed Deus into Fable. She knew at once that she was very small and that the rest of the world was so very large. She also felt, down in her bones, that she belonged in Fable. Of course this was where she had been heading all along. Origin had been a short stop, a brief pause, before her life really began. As she looked up at Fable, she knew that no matter how strange or small or new she was, the city counted her and was delighted to have her.

  Spiraling buildings surrounded them like great conch shells. To her eyes, they all looked connected and carved from a single stone. Bright tapestries colored windows and doorways.

  The buildings looked majestic, of course, but the people…She found herself surrounded by a tall race of humans with slender necks and skinny little hips. All of them wore identical bronze watch
es on their willowy wrists. They sported tight-fitting clothes, and Indira caught snatches of their conversations.

  “Walked into the room and shot an arrow at the Gamemakers! The nerve of this girl!”

  “Just happy to have moved on. I’ve been stuck outside that castle for an eternity.”

  “Well, he’s a dog. But he’s also a man. And he fights crime? You just have to read it….”

  Their senseless chatter filled the streets like music. She had never seen so many people, and every one of them engaged in conversation with someone else.

  “Who are they, Deus?” Indira asked.

  He gave the closest circle a perfunctory glance. “The Marks? Our loyal citizens. One of the native races of Fable. They’re flighty creatures, but they’ve been around since the very beginning of the world of Imagination.”

  Indira wanted to ask why they were called Marks, but a commotion stumbled out into the street. A slender woman barreled right into Deus, bounced off him, and shot after a fleeing dog. “Stop him!” the woman shouted. “He’s got my watch!”

  The dog in question bounded up a set of ivory stairs. It turned back, prize dangling from its jaws. Indira thought it looked playful, with one muddy ear standing straight up and the other flopped decisively down. It knelt forward on its front paws, rump still in the air, and wagged a wild tail. When the woman was halfway up the stairs, it turned on its heel and shot down an alleyway. Indira heard the woman shouting as she disappeared after it.

  “I provide convenient solutions,” Deus said crisply. “And I think the Authors like to counteract my presence with those bloody dog-ears. Pests is all they are.”

  “Books,” Indira said suddenly. Something about the realization made the world look a little clearer. “Marks. The marks are bookmarks. And the dogs are dog-eared pages. Right?”

  Deus cocked a curious eye her way. “Clever thinking, Indie. That’s exactly right. Here, everything that has anything to do with imagination and story exists. Ever since there were books, there’s been a need for bookmarks. How else to remember how far you’ve read? How else to pick up where you left off? Just remember not to trust the advice of a Mark. They’re notoriously bad about getting the details of the stories right.”

  She really looked at them now. Tall and skinny so they could fit between the pages. Just so. The comments she had heard before floated back to her. She realized that they must have been snippets of whatever stories the Marks happened to be inside.

  “Marks and dog-ears. Makes sense. But what about us? Where are we going?”

  Deus smiled. “Protagonist Preparatory, of course. If the Marks are the little parts that make up a car, and if I’m the grease that helps it all run, then you, and other characters like you, are the engines. We’re heading to the one place that’s guaranteed to…put you in the right car.”

  “And that’s Protagonist Preparatory?”

  “The one and only.”

  Indira had heard of the school before, but only in vague whispers. When she had lived in Origin, the goal was to get to Fable. Get noticed and get your ticket out. Protagonist Preparatory must have been the point of getting out. Naturally. A school. A place for characters like her to train and grow and become who they were destined to be. Indira followed Deus up a spiraling staircase. The word protagonist beat in her head like a drum. It stirred some bone-deep desire. A protagonist. That was what she was born to be.

  Fable continued on in an endless series of dream-white arches and platforms. Her eyes had adjusted to the city’s swirling chaos. The Marks were everywhere, but they looked so similar that characters were easy to spot. One market square had several. She saw a hulking man with greenish skin and silver bolts in his neck. He held a sign that read:

  I AM NOT FRANKENSTEIN.

  MISUNDERSTANDING IS THE REAL MONSTER.

  Beyond him she spied a massive umbrella. The area below it was roped off, and a line had formed. She caught a glimpse of a caped man with pale skin and a high collar. The fan at the front of the line finished paying and stepped forward to take a picture. Indira couldn’t help noticing the caped man’s smile. There was something odd about his teeth….

  “Who is that?” she asked.

  “Dracula,” Deus answered. “He sets up in town every few weeks. It’s a little absurd if you ask me. People taking pictures with a famous vampire.”

  Indira shrugged. “Don’t people always like to take pictures with famous people?”

  “Indeed, but most famous people can actually be photographed. Look.”

  Several photographs were featured on an artsy-looking clothesline. Deus was right. All of them featured the customer with their arm reaching out in the air and wrapping around nothing. One even showed a Mark in a dramatic pose, dipping backward, as if the vampire were about to suck his blood. None of the photographs actually captured Dracula himself.

  “I guess that is kind of weird,” Indira said.

  As they continued their tour, Indira also had the sense they were being followed, but every time she looked, there was no one there. Thinking about vampires sent a shiver down her spine. She would have been more suspicious if there weren’t so many new things to look at. Deus moved through the packed streets with quiet precision. Gaps in the crowd seemed to open for him at just the right moment, and it took some quick stepping for Indira to keep up.

  He explained that protagonist was basically another word for hero, and that Protagonist Preparatory was the school every character in Fable attended. The school’s role was to prepare each of them for the stories that Authors were busily writing.

  And of course there were auditions.

  Indira didn’t like that word. The word made her sweat. It was a word that seemed to be naturally followed by words like failure and pressure and embarrassment. But according to Deus, the auditions were straightforward: Indira would compete with a character who was applying for that dreadful Antagonist Academy in Fester (a point that drew Indira’s attention, because she hadn’t ever heard about a rival city). To which Deus had simply responded: “Where there is good, there is evil.”

  Indira nodded at that. She was thinking about fighting bad guys and rescuing people as Deus continued his explanation. Characters, apparently, had several possible tracks to follow. If their auditions went well, they’d be enrolled in the Protagonist track.

  “That’s the one you’ll aim for,” he explained. “And with your knack for adventure? You’re a natural fit for that role, really.”

  Every character wanted to be the hero of their story, but Fable knew that a story wasn’t a story without side characters and romantic interests and cameo roles. Deus explained that characters who didn’t have a successful audition would be enrolled in tracks that featured less of the spotlight. Indira nodded along until Deus said something that she didn’t think she had heard right. “Naturally, your auditions are today.”

  Indira stopped dead in her tracks. “Today?”

  “You could have at least mentioned that we were going straight to auditions.”

  Deus shrugged. “That’s just the way it works, Indie.”

  She could feel little hands tying knots in her stomach. “I’m not ready,” she complained. “I haven’t prepared or studied or anything. How will I even know what to do?”

  “It’s called instinct,” Deus replied. “You know that thing that helped you fly a bird through the sky today? Instinct. That’s what the auditions are designed to measure. They throw you into the moment and see exactly what you’re made of. What would be the point of allowing people to study beforehand?”

  Indira still felt herself panicking. “What if I fail?”

  Everything Deus had said before about becoming a protagonist came echoing back. It made sense that if she really wanted to be the best, she’d have to get off to a great start during auditions. It wasn’t hard to see that being
a protagonist was probably the only way to drag David into a story with her. And this one test was going to decide all of that? Great.

  Deus just kept smiling. “Remember: you leaped off a cliff today, landed on the back of a majestic bird, and flew above the clouds. I think you’re going to do just fine, Indie.”

  Doubts continued to snap at Indira’s heels, though, as they rounded the corner and a new building came into sight. Deus did not have to announce that this was their destination. Indira knew at first glance. It had to be Protagonist Preparatory.

  How to describe the school, my dear reader? Fable is the kind of city that isn’t set in stone, so to speak. Every few months the entire city takes on a new look to give its characters a fresh setting in which they might blossom into the best versions of themselves. But the school building always maintains a few qualities. First, it always looks a little older than the buildings around it. Something in the architecture or the slant of the roof or the shape of the windows. This has the pleasant effect of making it seem worn, but comfortable, like a favorite pair of shoes.

  Second, the front doors to the building are always thrust wide open. No matter the weather, no matter the time, no matter the century. Even during the Fictional Wars of 783, the school did not close its doors, because Protagonist Preparatory closes its doors to no one.

  Indira’s first look at the school was just so. A pair of looming gothic doors stood open, allowing the sunlight to color the interior. A massive group of characters stood off to one side, forming a line that was slowly turning into a jumbled mess. She spied Maxi and Phoenix in the swirling ranks, but before she could join them, Deus hooked her by the collar.

  “All right. As your benevolent and mischievous benefactor, I would like to leave you with some final guidance before you head into the great unknown that is school.” Deus held up one finger. “First, I believe you heard a particular phrase after arriving on the outskirts of Fable. I would guess those words are likely still echoing in your head…”