Omniscient Narrator : The Queen suddenly realized, as she assembled her awakened court on the plain outside her Castle, that Something Else had exited with them – Something that had not been asleep!
You, oh Loyal Reader, will recall that sleep had engulfed “the visiting royals disporting themselves in the ballroom, the téte-à-tétes in the small reception rooms, the infidelities and jealousies and gossips, the courtiers and servants, the cats and dogs and birds and goldfish, horses in their stables, the yeast in the raising bread in the kitchen, the insects and spiders and dust-mites and bacteria, the trees and flowers and herbs in the gardens, the mosses and lichens on the castle walls. In short, every living thing in or on Briar Castle succumbed to the spell, falling fast asleep.”
Between “living” and “non-living” lies an area governed by the Uncertainty Principle. Pairs of negative and positive virtual beings continually manifest, engage each other over a quantum of time, and generally annihilate each other in the next tick of the quantum clock. Only a few escape from this mutually assured destruction. Only a few, relatively, but the quantum dance is so prolific that even a few escapees quickly accumulate enough mass to gum up the macro-level cause-and-effect on which most sentient beings depend.
Editors : Quoting from an earlier place in the story does not add to your word count. And what’s that pseudo-scientific mumbo jumbo doing in our story? This is supposed to be a fairy tale, may we remind your omniscience!
ON : You didn’t say anything in our contract about not quoting. It’s a good device; you can’t expect your Loyal Readers to remember all the nonsense you’ve been babbling at them. If it gets important for the plot again, you tell them again.
And for your information, I was writing successful science popularizations for a major newspaper before I took your little job. I’ll have you know I was even syndicated. I thought I could add to the appeal, give your yarn some dignity.
Eds : We specifically asked for a fiction narrator!
ON : Your point being . . .?
Eds : Oh, get on with the story! We’re so behind in our word count!
ON : The Loyal Reader will recall that the dust-mites in Briar Castle fell asleep when Briar Rose pricked her finger on the fateful spindle. Dust-mites feed on the dander of larger life-forms, to whom they are conveniently invisible. But has the Loyal Reader ever considered what might feed upon the dander of the dust-mites? Orders of magnitude smaller, one enters the realm of the dust-mite-nots. Only tenuously linked to the web of life, they experienced the sleep spell merely as an increased propensity to nap. Over the 250 years, between naps, they grew hungry. They nibbled on strange food, including the dust of disintegrating spells. They Mutated.
When they emerged on the plain that fateful day, they were no longer simple, harmless dust-mite-nots. The had become something more powerful, more fearful . . .
Eds : Well, keep going!
ON : I can’t. I have no idea what happens next.
Eds : You’re supposed to be omniscient! Read your contract!
ON : I have read it. It says: “omniscient in creating narrative from a detailed plot summary.”
Eds : But we gave you that! Look, it says, “mutates, emerges as something creepy and powerful that will threaten life as we know it in Über Celestia.”
ON : That’s not a plot summary, that’s an “I wish I had a plot” declaration. I’m niscient enough to know the difference, if you’re not!
Eds : Damn! Couldn’t we go back to having Toby narrate this? She seemed to be able to figure things out as she went along.
Accountant : Ahhhh... Toby sent a memo saying she’d be happy to continue narration, but the partners will consider it billable hours – at the partner’s rate...
Eds : Damn and Blast!
Accountant : Remember you wanted to keep this G-rated – to maximize sales?
Eds : Sigh... we’ll change that to, “Oh poop!”
