The Story of Terra

 by Rhombus Ticks

The poorly educated assume that the worlds were created by the Fae.  The Fae did create some worlds, but not all the worlds and not all the Earths.  Those were aligned by powers greater than they, and they are greater than the Disney creations you see in movies.  There are Greater Fae and Lesser Fae and a whole spectrum in between.  But this is not the story of Fae.

It is the story of why Terra is not a place where Stories are Told.

Once upon a time, there were four worlds on a compass set by the Fae; 

Earth, where stories are told.

Terra, where stories happen.

Gaea, where Gods make belief real.

Mana, where belief makes Gods real.

There is a reason that the worlds are like this, but no one ever wondered why that was.  Few even asked.  There is a reason.  Let me tell you what it was.

Once upon a time, there was a human by the name of TC who was broken by evil men; determined to write but unable to do so.  When a strong will strikes a strong soul, even a wounded one, creates an unstoppable force meets an immovable object.  And so the soul shattered into seven parts; and the part that wrote stories drifted away to a place called Terra; a place where stories happen.

And he met a man named Rhombus Ticks, who thought he was merely a tour guide to the Bridge to Anywhere deep in the swamps of Louisiana.   And Rhombus offered to write for him instead, and so he astrally projected to Earth and wrote stories.

Which set up the curious situation that a human could influence his own world, by telling stories through another.  And safeguards that had been set in place were now suddenly bypassed.  Humans had occasionally gone from Terra to Earth or Earth to Terra back and forth; but the rules still applied to those humans.  

It so happened that despite being an absolutely terrible writer, TC had a particular strength of belief, that all things everywhere were possible; which when combined with someone who had talent like Rhombus meant that suddenly....suddenly many interesting things were possible.

That story is still being written.

Many stories are being written.  More stories are being written.  More stories will always be written.  For there are infinite Terras, Infinite Earths, Infinite Gaias, Infinite Manas.  But there is only one Terra of the Compass points, that ripples to all the others. 

Once upon a time, there was a story about a man who who abused magic and story so much that it offended Rhombus to no end.  So for the first time, Rbombus realized the power he had, and abused it just as much as the man who was a fool had been.  So he wrote a story.

A story about Terra.

And since Terra was a place where stories happen, then the story happened.

Because he wrote it.

And so in world where magic was possible, stories happened.

In a world where magic was hidden and in the cracks of the world, stories are told.

And this is why magic on Earth lies in the shadows. And why stories on Terra are shadows of other places unless told in the lives of those who live there.

Such is the nature of time, belief and being.

You can believe it, or consider it just a story.  But the words say what they say, and the worlds are the way that they are.

And the stories were much happily ever after after that; for even the darker ones were not violations unto themselves.  Except of course for the small handful that were, but even those had their defenders.

Even those had their defenders.

The End.