The world revolves unto somewhere and starts something in character, lives moving at a predestinated path, impossible to change, a work of God in place of one, men and women rose to power, pigs and horses die in service, like marionettes moving closer to despair.
Yes that was the setting of stories, books of fantasy who share the tales of dragons capturing the princess and hero arising amongst the crowd to slay.
But stories aren't real like wild fantasies, ideas forming, reforming, forming, reforming, forming, reforming... Stories stashed on books exist to entertain not made for daydreaming.
Hard truth hits a girl who lives in mesirable tattered clothes, poor begging eyes clutching a storybook, money scarce, stories present, it was hard to imagine one would believe in fantasies realized from books and indulge oneself to journey the impossible.
Leaving home, chasing fiction, fantasy gone, reality backfires, left alone to beg on the streets, stealing, caught, beaten, almost sold as slave.
No money equals to no amount of treatment, swallowing saliva as a source of water, no food, tummy hurts, death is coming.
She pictures death coming and a black silhouette appeared hiding among the crowds, the girl stared down at her book and looked back, the black silhouette disappeared.
She knows the world of fantasy is real, money is an issue, she knows she can't find her journey, let alone risking her life, without money all her possibility is sealed.
Suddenly a shadow covers her entirely and she looks up.
...
A girl armed with the power of the world to revolve around her, what could be the limit? Imagination and denial of reality changes the very fabric of existence drawing tales and fantasies to reality.
Immersion gives lives to fiction, little contenders outside of God's vision dare rewrite reality.
What would have happen if Don Quixote had this power, will giants and castles appear in accord to his false sense of reality? Or will you get targeted by the church and exterminated in changing God's masterpiece?