Now on the way to another room, Mariana and I walk the long hallways of her castle. On the walls are pictures of people in white clothing with their names at the bottom of the frames. 

“I have five Immortal Children: Limunsudan, Adarna, Mayon, Lupine, and Ningning. My firstborn, Limunsudan, was created from the tears I shed when you died and the blood I spilled when I tried to follow you to the afterlife. Adarna was created when I breathed the moment I accepted my fate. However, their quick and light forms caused this place to freeze whenever they played, so I pulled out strands of my hair and ignited them. Mayon was born from that very fire, but she was born weak and couldn’t play with her elder siblings, so I created Lupine, a Child who loved staying in one place, to accommodate her.” She smiles briefly, recalling the memories of the olden days. 

“With four energetic Children playing nonstop, I got tired and exhausted from taking care of them, so I created my last child, Ningning. With her help, the night was created,” she continues. “I finally got time for myself, so I started creating the world you once imagined as a child. But I wasn’t successful; this place —” She waves her hand around, “— feeds from my very core, and that world is too much for me to handle. I sent my Children out and told them to build it for me instead; it took them centuries to create Imaginan. I called them back to accompany me once again after that.”

“You already created the world you wanted. You’re already a god, someone who controls everything in this world. Shouldn’t you be satisfied already? Why drag me here too?” I want to ask more, but after noticing a change in her expression, I decided against it. “Fine. I won’t say anything anymore, but I want you to promise me one thing. You’ll be at my disposal. I created you; without me, you won’t be able to achieve what you have now, so technically, you owe everything to me.” 

‘I’m already here; why not seize the opportunity to tilt things in my favor?’

She stops in her tracks and whips her head towards me. She bobs her head enthusiastically as she says, “I understand. I know, I know. I’ll do everything you tell me. Everything! I’ll be your slave.”

“What the heck! Fuck off!”

“But you love BDS—” I cut her off by telling her to shut her mouth, which she does by covering it with both of her hands.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but Imaginan is the same as the setting of Vendetta and Inamorata, right?”

Vendetta is a book I wrote when I was still alive. I was so into worldbuilding that I spent three years building the whole world where the book is setting place. Its story is about women in a patriarchal and oppressive society. The book was full of gory scenes and ideologies that a “woke” person wouldn’t want to read, much less live in. 

Wait.

“Please tell me this is not Vendetta.”

“Oh, no. No.” She shakes her head vigorously. “That turbulent time happened years ago, decades ago. It is already in the past.” 

I let out a sigh of relief. “Then, I’m now in Inamorata’s timeline?”

“Well…”

“I’m not part of the story? Am I a side character? A villain? Please tell me I’m not a villain. I don’t wanna fight white lotuses. Did I write a santa-santita character? Oh, no. I did. Or did I?” [1]

“No, you didn’t,” she answers. “But, no. You’re not in that timeline… technically.”

“By technically, you mean…?”

“Well, you’re before that. But it will happen in your timeline… if you live long enough… I mean, of course, you’ll live long enough, what am I rambling about… I mean… I just… Anyway, you’re not part of that story… technically.”

I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't, so I stomped my foot in annoyance. “Oh, tell me already! Stop with the cliffhanger.”

“You are not the main character of Inamorata. You are also not the villain or part of any squad. When you wrote Inamorata, you barely talked about the person you are currently in.”

“So…?”

“The princess.” 

—

[1] Author’s Note: A santa-santita is someone who puts a “good person” front but is actually a horrible person.