The young apprentice blinked as he picked up the ancient tome of spells and the cover began to crumble in his fingers. Fearing that he had done something wrong he quickly placed it back upon its lectern where it had been kept by his master. Looking down at the spot on the desk he found not crumbs of paper and leather, but tiny immaculate letters and punctuation marks.

Looking around himself he noticed other things in the room starting to suffer from similar decay. Tiny lettering dropping off of tables and chairs to pile on the floor and be blown away in the wind. When he saw the stone of the old tower itself begin to crumble he rushed into the next room, calling for his master.

The old wizard stood calmly behind his research table. Running a finger over the surface, he raised it to his eye and studied the minuscule lettering with a magnifying glass. Nodding to himself he walked over to his young apprentice and placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Come, my boy. I knew this day would come sooner or later."

Confused, the apprentice let himself be ushered from the crumbling tower. He stood beside the wizard and watched as the only home he ever knew broke apart into motes of words and sentences, carried away by the breeze.

Soon, the nearby trees and plants began to experience a similar strange decay, slowly falling apart all around them. The earth itself began to feel strangely soft beneath their tread.

"Master, what is happening? Did I cause this when I tried to read your book?"

The old wizard gave a sad laugh, "No, no my boy. This is nothing you did. You see, we are but characters in a grand tale of adventure, waiting for the next hero to arrive so that we may bestow them with wisdom or magical power." He smiled at the boy, clapping him on the shoulder with tears in his eyes, "Perhaps even a young apprentice to take with them, to explore the world and turn into a gallant hero themself."

His apprentice was obviously confused, "A tale, a story, you mean that we aren't real, master?"

"I'm afraid not. Apparently this tale is finished and the author has no intention of continuing, or else, something has happened to him and he cannot."

Frightened, he looked up into the wizened, kind face of the wizard who had raised him his entire life. Tears streamed down his face when he saw that the luxurious white beard that his master took such pride in was beginning to crumble and blow away and he could see the lettering starting to form from his slender, lively hands.

“This is it, isn’t it?” He whimpered, looking down at his own hands as well.

"I'm afraid so, lad." He wrapped his arms around the youth as the two of them began to swirl away into the dust of letters and words, "Unless some other author decides to pick up our tale, this truly is..."


The End