...the more I learn about other worlds, the more it seems improbable that mine was so mundane. [A pause. A sigh. The all two/three-real people tugging at the edges of their consciousness, curious at feeling a presence that hasn't lurked in the Golden Land since before the new Endless Sorceror's time, were proof that wasn't really the case. (Why were they, the reality, the author, the only one unlucky enough to never find a happy ending?)] Although that was simply bad luck on my part, given what's apparently been happening one layer of the story above mine.

It appears that the call to adventure didn't leave either of us alone, though. I can... sympathize.

My entire life, I felt as though I never had a say in anything.