Seeing no other alternative, the schoolteacher
reluctantly accepted that the miraculous writings on his page were indeed the
voice of the story itself. So, though it made him feel as though he was going
insane, he decided to talk to the story.
"But he's a wise and powerful wizard," he
wrote, and then began drawing the wizard on the page, "With a magical staff."
"No!" Replied the story. "That is,
indeed, a wise and powerful wizard." With this, the drawing that the
schoolteacher just made became animated and took on a look of pride. Then the
story continued, "But he does not belong here. He is the subject of many
other tales, but this is not his tale. Not his story." And with that, the
wizard, now looking a little less proud, slowly walked off the page and
disappeared.
The schoolteacher was puzzled and frustrated. He'd had more than enough of this, so he slammed shut the journal and left the
cottage for a walk along the creek.
It was a beautiful day. The water was glistening
with the reflection of a clear blue sky. Under the surface, the schoolteacher
saw a few small trout swaying in the current near a rock. The teacher continued
along the creek until he found a mossy boulder that he loved to sit on. He sat
and took a deep breath and thought about his encounter with the story.
"Curses!" he thought, "The story is right. That wizard isn't
mine. I didn't create him; I merely called him to mind. He is an amalgam of the
wizards of many of my favorite stories – a noble character – but not my character.
I must work harder. Think again. I will find my hero.”
And with this, the schoolteacher continued his walk, thinking deeply
about the subject of his story.
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