[Plot] The Right Place In The Wrong Time

[Vivienne Chinnoir]

"Then perhaps a trade. I have a curse upon me that I wish to...modify. I have come in search for Melion's ring. For it or information about it I offer you a new name. One of your own choosing."

[Narrator]

"Curses can be quite vexing. And offering me a name is a tall order, even for one of the druids. And that would require you to know who I am. How the teller fits into the story. Otherwise the name will fly away to time as my own has done. So tell me, Vivienne, where do I fit?"

[Vivienne Chinnoir]

"You wore a ring for some time, I would guess you are either Melion and the mortal writers were their usual male centric selves or you are the fallen Princess."

[Narrator]

"We can't help who we love sometimes," she says, "but you have the right of it. Most consider me the 'Daughter of the King of Ireland', as if that's a fit enough name for someone of that position. I wear the ring every time the story is retold. And every time, it loses a bit in translation or alters slightly. But such is the nature of stories. We change and grow, but it is how we learn. Did you learn anything, Vivienne?"

[Vivienne Chinnoir]

"A few, for one, the weavers of this lovely little working were little sadistic shits." She said as she looked for a palm sized stone.

"The world was not ready for you, you were trapped in a story not of your own telling the moment you were born and now you will have something that is finally yours and yours alone." She cleaned the stone and began to etch into it with a clawed "Orla".

"There carved in stone for the ages. If you prefer I can make it more modern." She offered the stone to the princess.

[Narrator]

"Orla," she says, rolling the word around in her mouth as she looks at the stone. Slowly, she reaches out and takes it, running her thumb over the word. As she did so, she seemed somehow more solid and she smiled, "Yes, a fitting gift. I appreciate the spirit in which is was given." She points towards a rock in the clearing, "You'll find what you seek there, but I warn you, its power is unpredictable. It is as much of a fixture of the story as the squire, the knight, or the kings, and its power behaves accordingly."

[Vivienne Chinnoir]

"I will be careful. Rest well knowing one soul sees you and knows your story."

[Narrator]

"No rest for the storyteller, so long as the story is told," she smiles, "But take your prize and go."

[Vivienne Chinnoir]

Vivienne gave the princess a curtsy and departed to search around the clearing and rock.

[Narrator]

Lifting the rock, she finds an old bronze ring tucked into a hollow underneath it. The ring has a forest green stone set into it. As she glances around, she notices the princess is gone.

[Narrator]

Once Vivienne's long on her way, Orla reappears. "She was as strong as you indicated she would be," she says to a shadow in the clearing.

"She always has been," a blond elf says, stepping out of the shadow, "I will say I did not expect her to give you a name. But I dare say that will give you more freedom from your story."

"Indeed," Orla says, "Did you get what you needed out of the deal as well?"

"I believe so," she says, inhaling deeply, dark black-and-deep purple energy playing at the ends of her hair for a moment before it disappears. "It's been quite a profitable relationship. Maybe we can work together again."

Orla nods in a pleased fashion. "Of course. But now, I think I'll take some of my freedom and move beyond the story for a bit."

"Enjoy," the elf says, stepping back into the shadows and disappearing.