Sorry I got sidetracked on serializing this. Going to queue it up properly to ensure 1 a day until we’re done.

Her smile broadened. “You don’t need to know who I am,” she said in a low, throaty voice.

Fuck. Can she read my thoughts?

“Not precisely,” she answered. “In a sense, I’m writing them.”

I stared at her, worried. That’s not… you haven’t cast any spells on me. You can’t–

She raised a hand. “Not like that,” she said. “It’s… hmm, never mind, it’s too difficult to explain. Pretty much all you need to know is that I’m in charge here.”

Pfft. Every two-bit sorcerer in these stupid islands thinks that. Just because she got the drop on me with whatever this cube thing is–

“I actually am, though,” she said. “And because of that, you’re stuck in a Writer’s Block.”

A–

She sighed. “The forces which govern the universe aren’t sure what happens next. Until they figure it out, you’re stuck.”

“Are you kidding me!?” I sputtered. “Hey, wait, I can talk!”

“Oh good,” said the woman. “The ol’ creative juices are starting to flow.”

“Are you… are you saying that this is… some kind of story? And you’re writing it?” I demanded.

She sighed. “No no no. I’m not the writer, I’m just the persona.”

I snorted. “Sure, like it’s fair to expect me to know obscure literary jargon that won’t even be invented for thousands of years after I’m gone.” I paused. “Wait, how’d I know that?”

She shrugged. “Anachronism. Happens whenever it’d be funny. Or whenever it’d be too difficult to be authentic. Or by accident. Anyway, you normally don’t notice, but things are… weird right now.”

I struggled, and found that I could struggle. “Because you’re here?”

“No, I’m here because the writer’s block is here. You were supposed to have to deal with a trickster spirit, there was going to be this whole thing, but it just wasn’t possible to make it funny and sexy. At least not at the, uh, shall we say questionable level of skill typical of your adventures?”

“Hey!” I snapped. “Who’re you calling questionable? And anyway, aren’t you the one writing all this?”

She sighed.  "I told you, I’m the persona. I don’t actually write this, you can’t appear in a story you’re writing yourself!“ She watched as the shimmer in the air faded further, and I discovered I could now move my arms. "Oh good, it looks like things are starting to flow again,” she said. “See you in a bit!” She snapped her fingers, and vanished.

Time returned, just as I was waving my arms around trying to break free, and I crashed face-first into the dirt. “What the hell was that!?” I demanded.

“What was what?” asked Iason.

I sputtered. “The– thing! With the… the woman..?” He clearly had no idea what I was talking about, and I gave up. I  clambered back to my feet and glared at him. “Thanks for the assist,” I growled.

“Hey, last time I offered you a hand you told me you didn’t need my help!”

“I don’t.” I glowered. “A lady likes to be offered it once in a while, though.”

“Ah,” he said. “Gotcha. I’ll remember that if I ever find myself spending time with a lady.”

I screamed and blasted him with fire, which dissipated harmlessly off his dragonscale armor.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“A little,” I admitted.

To be continued tomorrow… but Patreon backers can read the rest right now!

Lemma the Librarian: Tricks of the Trade | Midori Konton on Patreon