act41side

Did I spook you? You got so polite all of a sudden. It makes me feel impertinent for even pressing the question.

No. But I must make it abundantly clear that everything we have discussed until now is no more than idle chatter. You understand, don't you?

The woman sits straight and does not say a word. The writer can only attempt to guess whether she is still smiling through the shadows.

Well? What are you waiting for? I've nearly finished my drink.

I've fallen into the same conundrum as you.

If this is as far as both your references and your imagination go, how could <i>I</i> possibly put the red dragon's ultimate fate to paper?

I've already said all I'm able to. I refuse to give this story an entirely fictional end, one that not even I could believe in. Even if the alternative is that there is no ending.

If you don't have an answer either, then no need to waste your time here. Leave while it's still early.

Is this because you do not remember, do not understand, or is it because you wish you never knew, never understood?

—What?

What are you getting at?

You've never 'lost sight of the ending.' It would be more appropriate to say that your eyes have become clouded by too many 'creative liberties'. Shall I recount them for you?

Treasures leading people into the darkness.

Culann dragging the statue to the square by himself.

And virtually everything related to the dark mist in the woods: from the rejection of Brigid, to the food carts returning to the city on their own, to Loughshinny becoming lost in the woods, to The Brigadier and Eblana's meeting in the city.

If these 'creative liberties' have created the contradictions in your mind, then it is my responsibility to set them on a path towards the ending.

Shall I supplement the story with my own observations?

I'll take that as a yes.

Perhaps they will lead you to a conclusion you can be satisfied with.