North of the Pole lies the Forested Islands and they
"God, this is terrible," said Amino aloud, discarding his writing into the bin. He sat in a room with a table and a bed, figuring out what to do next. In theory, his plan had been simple. Write a book about nature, sell it, wait, and then get rich. In practice, writing a novel was not an easy effort. Many people tried, but for most, you couldn't make a living off it. Amino could have, for he came from the heavily inflated land of Natiskap, where international currency was worth a lot more.
First and foremost, authors needed to understand they cannot please everyone. Amino did not get that.
"DAMN IT! How do I get a barkeeper to read a book about nature?" questioned Amino out loud. He glanced at the objects on his table. Candy, books, parchment, and quills littered the place. If nothing else, he was dedicated to his work. As much as a procrastinator like him could be. The candles in his room showed much light in his small room. A bed, a trunk, a closet, and a handstand. Oh and the table, I suppose. The really, ugly-looking table. I'll pretty it up later.
"Alright, I just gotta finish this before the Royal Exams. Then I'll pass those, finish this and go home. Simple." He grabbed another quill and another bit of parchment, beginning to write again
The forests of Natiskap are so beautiful. Bang. That's how beautiful they are. You just felt a gunshot in your heart.
"Perfect." With that, he put the quill back into its place and began to chew on some chocolate when the candles in his room went out, unaware of his spelling errors.
"What?" He was confused, for there was no window leading into the place.
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"Damn it, I left the window open, didn't I?" No, you idiot, there is no window. You wanted peace, remember? Screw it, time for some adventure. His closet burst open, revealing clothes that stood without hangars and legs. His trunk burst open and it was empty. It started walking around too. I tried to make the bed move but it was really heavy so I gave up on it. Finally, he seemed to react.
He opened the door and left. Coward. Ugh.
With a sigh, I deactivated the spell, resetting everything in place. I glanced at his table. How was this guy supposed to be an author, with his amateur-level mistakes? I picked up his quill and began to write it. The words flew out of my hand, onto the paper. Should put a handle on that, my letters were all over the place on the paper. There was a mirror on the table. How did I miss that the first time? I picked up and ta effin da, it was me. Mister Mine. Yes, extremely original name. My face elongated and formed the shape of a fox, my true form. I opened my mouth, as though the mirror would come alive and eat me. But alas, it was just that, a mirror.
I glanced at the parchment, skimming through whatever text had been written. Anyone can become an author, my ass. I've been trying for hundreds of years and it's like they keep changing what's popular every couple of decades. I picked up the parchment. Forested Islands? I'm on an island? How had I never known that? Oh right, probably because I never leave this house, not since its last owner summoned me here.
Nature...To us demons, nature was an anathema. It was so straight forward, that it was disturbing how easily the people of this world had adapted to it. They were our bane, to walk through the woods was to risk death by spiritual attacks. Where was the human?
Walking through the door, I walked down the stairs in darkness. I could not see nor did I bother to for I was I could not be physically harmed without a spell. Upon reaching the bottom, I found our author. He was dead. Tripped and broke his neck. With disgust, I almost went back when I noticed some paper sticking out of his jacket. It was a map. Opening the map, I found a route planned between here and the sea.
Well, it's not like I was doing anything too special in Hell. Grabbing the parchment and the ink pots, I flew out the door, startling the neighbors and beginning my trek through the woods. Perhaps this would be my muse, a journey to biggest mirror of them all. At the very least, I could spook more people. Now that was quite the enticement for me.