The End

The scribe set down his quill, noticing that the feather was translucent. In the Between, quills changed colors depending on the amount of ink left in the writing utensil. The quill was almost unusable, when it turned that color. Still, the scribe persisted, and wrote until the quill was clear. 

The final words were scribbled onto the long parchment. 

There was nothing… except a dead golden goose. 

Those who want all lose all. 

Satisfied, the quill was set down gently, its color rivaling the clearest waters surrounding Atlantis, the renown world created by Πλάτων, though most know him as Plato. 

Plato was very well-known among scribes; most of today’s traditions were modeled after his works. Worlds were created by stories, just as Plato had created Atlantis.

A scribe’s quill was their most influential tool. It engraved stories in the unraveling parchment that was known to many as the Χαρτί ζωής, which roughly translates to Life Scroll in Earth-speak. Every story created is written in the Χαρτί ζωής, and the Life Scroll turns the different stories- originally just words on parchment- into real worlds.

However, many scribes speculated that the Χαρτί ζωής was not limitless. Every scholar dreaded the day that the parchment would fill, but a rare few thought the parchment was as infinite as time. Accordingly, time was one of the most debated subjects in the Between. Scribes enjoyed sharing philosophical ideas with others when they weren’t writing.

Opinions were varied in the Between, the abstract land where all scribes originated. Nothing was typically concrete in the Between, the scribes weren’t too picky about their living conditions. One of their mottos was: “Simple is best.”

The scribe who had finished his latest work picked up the parchment and examined it, smiling. His name was Αίσωπος, translating to Aesop. Aesop’s happiness was imminent.

Every story was revered, just one small puzzle piece in the bigger picture of life. No one ever figured out what they were building towards, but they were fine with that. 

Aesop reread his story, making small tweaks to it and erasing mistakes with a clear solution that he had created. The solution proved very useful in erasing ink from pages.

Later, this story would be named The Goose that Laid the Golden Eggs by the Earthlings. 

Chrétien de Troyes, one of Aesop’s friends, was polishing up his story when Aesop went to visit him. 

“My friend, what are you working on?”

“Ah, hello, Aesop. I didn’t think you would stop by! I am currently working on a world divided into different kingdoms, ruled by kings and queens, with noble knights by their side. It is about a young man named Arthur and his rise to the position of king. His mentor, Merlin, aids him in the battle of morality. His rule marks a sort of golden age for his kingdom, named Camelot.”

“That’s quite interesting. May I make a suggestion?”

Chrétien had to smile at his friend’s enthusiasm. “Of course.”

“Adding a theme to your story would certainly structure it better and build upon the plot. Nevertheless, this story is yours and yours only. I hope to have the fortune of viewing your story after its completion!”

These words sparked creativity. 

“That’s an extraordinary proposition. I’ll certainly incorporate it.”

Chrétien resumed his work, and Aesop decided to take his leave. He didn’t want to intrude on his friend’s time.

While it may seem so, this story is not about the creation of Aesop’s fables or Camelot. It also is not about Aesop or Chrétien. 

It’s about Aesops’s pupil, θαύμα. Θαύμα, which means miracle, seemed to fit his name perfectly. He was widely considered a miracle child, seeming capable of producing intricate worlds with a flick of a wrist. 

At the raw age of 13, Θαύμα created the Greek world, called Greek mythology on Earth. Θαύμα introduced mythology to the scribes, who eagerly looked upon the technique. 

Later, Asgard was created through Norse mythology. The other scholars scrambled to replicate Θαύμα’s writing techniques and to incorporate his elements into their own stories. 

At 14, Aesop took Θαύμα underneath his wing. One day, Aesop approached when Θαύμα was working on a story titled “Jason and the Argonauts.”

“Θαύμα, I have been studying your stories for a while now, and I would like to extend an offer to you. Would you consider being my apprentice?”

Hearing these words, Θαύμα looked up from his quill and noticed Aesop. His eyes widened in recognition. Though never knowing the scholar personally, Θαύμα was a big fan of Aesop’s stories. 

“Could you repeat that, sir?” Θαύμα asked. 

Aesop chuckled. “No need to call me sir. I’ve seen your talents, and it would be an honor for me to train a student like you.”

Θαύμα smiled. He was honored to receive such high praise from Aesop himself. 

“Will you accept?” asked Aesop’s inquiring voice. 

Θαύμα nodded, saying, “Yes.” 

And so the young Θαύμα started his mentoring with famous Aesop. Θαύμα’s enthusiasm and restless curiosity clashed with Aesop’s mild temperament, yet the older mentor felt himself growing fond of the young man.

One night, when Θαύμα trying to complete an assignment, his mind kept going blank, and the quill slackened underneath his grip. He let out an irritated sigh and dropped the quill. Aesop sat next to him, his eyes reading the hastily scratched words on the paper.  

“You are trying to force your story. A story is like a river, guide it gently, and it will carve its own way. Θαύμα, I’d like for us to visit one of my friends. I hope you’ll gain some inspiration, since I know that you’ve been having a bit of writer’s block lately.”

Θαύμα, who just wanted to take a break from writing, agreed to Aesop’s proposal. They ended up at Chrétien's place. 

“Why, hello Aesop, great to see you. And you are?”

“Θαύμα.”

Chrétien greeted him, then asked Aesop why the two were here. 

“I’ve recently taken on Θαύμα under my wing as my pupil,” Aesop began. “He has remarkable talent, but has recently fallen into writer’s block, so I thought that he could find some inspiration here. I hope that you'll be able to show him Camelot. As for myself, I’m interested to see how it’s developed.” 

“Of course! I’ve almost finished the story! Here, Θαύμα, I’ll let you pre-read it,” Chrétien said, handing a long parchment to him.

Θαύμα struggled finding a place to set the parchment; it was just too long of a story. How long would this take?

While he found a place to read comfortably, Chrétien and Aesop conversed pleasantly. “Did you incorporate any of my suggestions into your work?”

“I did. I wove in a few moral lessons into my tale; one, for example, is equality, which I portrayed with a round table. It indicates that no one is the head, and therefore all are equal.”

Aesop’s eyes were lit with delight. “That’s quite astute! I think that it was a wonderful addition!”

Meanwhile, the scribe furiously reading the tale quietly in the corner was gaining some inspiration. Θαύμα never really thought much of fantasy elements, he created original characters. His story usually didn’t contain characters like kings, queens, knights, or creatures like dragons. 

“I’ve got it!” he shouted triumphantly. 

The other two glanced back at the excited boy. 

“I take it that you have overcome your writer’s block?”

“Yes, indeed! Thank you, Sir Chrétien! I enjoyed your story, and appreciate you giving me the chance to read it.”

“No problem at all.”

Upon arriving back at the writing studio, Θαύμα grabbed a quill and started writing furiously. Aesop had witnessed him in this fervor before, and soon realized that it was better to leave him alone at times like these. In these moments, Θαύμα’s determination was hard as steel and nothing could sway him from his goals. 

“I’ve done it!” Θαύμα said proudly, holding up his ink-stained parchment. 

Aesop read over his pupil’s story a few times. It was inspired by Camelot, and differed from Θαύμα’s usual style of writing. Θαύμα’s writing wasn’t as refined as usual; however, it was still a miraculous story. 

There were many magical creatures, such as witches, wizards, and trolls. It followed a young boy and his exploits as he realizes that he wields sorcery, which was outlawed in the town he lived in. He left a few elements of Greek mythology into his story, such as a three-headed dog.

This story never got much publicity, but centuries later, the first book of the Harry Potter series, written by J.K. Rowling, was published based on Θαύμα’s work.

While growing up, Θαύμα had a few other successes in his writings. However, Greek mythology was still his most well-known world. 

This irritated him. Over the years, he tired of the attention showered upon him when someone realized he was the famous Greek mythology creator. 

Each time, someone would ask, “Are you the writer that created Greek mythology? I love your work!” Previously, Θαύμα would have greeted his fan with a beaming grin, but now he found himself forcing a smile and nodding politely, just wishing to leave the conversation.

His frustration was like a smoldering ember,  filling him with smoke and rage. Why could people only see him for his past work? Did they not know about the new worlds he had created? The intricate stories woven by painstaking effort and sleepless nights? Alas, his fellow scholars only saw the legendary heroes and gods he had long left behind, and his recent works were mostly ignored.

One late night, the light in his lamp burning low, Θαύμα asked himself, “Will this really be all I will ever become? Just a shadow of my previous self?” 

It was this night where Θαύμα knew what he had to do. He had to write the most legendary piece ever to finally be satisfied. This work would be no ordinary story; it would put even the mighty Zeus to shame. There was only one choice left for him. He started writing.

The first stroke to the page was electric. 

Unfortunately for him, he had left the mentorship of Aesop years ago. Aesop’s wise ways could’ve prevented him from committing such a foolish act; Θαύμα had become obsessed with the public eye, of recognition, and was blinded to the greed of his acts. 

Just as the moon sighs when the sun intrudes into the sky, the Χαρτί ζωής sighed when it realized what was happening, and understood why this desperation for power would be harmful. Nevertheless, parchment cannot talk, and Θαύμα wrote on. 

Θαύμα went to his storeroom and got more parchment paper, then sat back down at his desk to continue his odyssey. 

He wrote of great treasures, forgotten secrets, indistinguishable myths….

You may have heard of the Fountain of Youth. This fountain originates in this story, in the land that was forming because of written words. 

He wrote many of the great myths that you have heard of today. The Legend of Sleepy Hollow? It was inspired by a domain in this land, called Sleepy Hollow. 

Θαύμα didn’t come out to eat or talk; this work was consuming all that he was. 

He could’ve stopped there. But he couldn’t. 

He needed more, craved it like a plant thirsting away in a desert. His greed for recognition, for fame, overrode his mind and controlled his hand. 

Neighbors started whispering rumors. 

Θαύμα wrote and wrote and wrote. He wasted away in that tiny cellar of his because of his writing. 

His rooms were all filled with paper. He had nowhere to sleep, except for his small cellar where he wrote. Unbeknownst to all, throughout this, the Χαρτί ζωής had been filling up steadily. 

One sunny afternoon, a sudden noise broke Θαύμα from his fervor. His first reaction was to be annoyed at the disturbance, but his annoyance soon faded into dismay. A low, resonant hum resounded in the Between, and every scholar stopped at once, filled with a strange, ancient grief. 

Sweat beading his temple, Θαύμα clutched his quill tighter and brought it to the page. 

Just a little more… he thought. Just one more line. 

After managing to scrawl out an illegible word, the quill slackened in his palm and broke into two. Θαύμα stared at it in astonishment. 

When he ventured outside to witness the aftermath, he was greeted by a dead golden goose.

The piece of parchment that created entire universes, entire worlds, was consumed by the hand of one greedy individual. 

What could have been a legendary piece… left incomplete and unnamed.

What was once a bright young pupil capable of many talents was a rapacious man polluted by selfish thoughts. In retrospect, Θαύμα was just another tragic hero like those from the Greek myths.

The legendary land that Θαύμα had toiled so long for, the land that brought the Between to an end, is now long gone. However, its influence is wide-spread. Just like the man in The Goose that Laid the Golden Eggs, he had all he needed, but his avarice deprived him of everything. 

The dreaded day had finally come to be; the parchment of life was filled. And even though the Between existed no longer, the worlds that had been created lived on. 

Over many eras, many sunrises and sunsets, the influence of scribes has been long forgotten. One of the most glorified ages known to all… tainted by one man.