The Council of Movellas

This isn't your normal anti-fan fiction.
The world of Movellas was a peaceful place, writers wrote in the genre they lived in and everybody was happy. A group of eleven people, each representing one of the countries of Movellas led the world and everything was good. But now one of the members seeks more power then they needed; the council have no idea who this mysterious person is, except one thing. They are among The Eleven.


1. Prologue

A man rode fast across the rocky hills, desperation in his heart, his mind filled with what he had just seen happen to the country he loved. He knew he was miles away from escaping, miles away from spreading word, from help. His country needed it. But he had to get to the border first, and he didn't know how long his horse could continue the speed they were at. Small bushes and a few trees rushed by in a blur of rare green; the sun was going down and darkness was quickly gathering

However he had no time to stop, to rest and eat or drink. His enemies weren't resting. Already he knew they would be closing the border- then the one chance he had to save his country would be gone. What light there was in the red sky was fading rapidly. Yet after long hours of hard riding he could see a glimmer of hope now.

"There it is" he whispered, as he saw the caves not so far now in front of him. They were dangerous, but it was either face the caves and into the unknown land or go back to the invaders where he would undoubtedly be killed. Something whistled past his ear.

He turned to see a group of soldiers running up behind him. One was holding a shotgun.

He had to run, had to get to the caves, had to get out before they caught him. Not just his own life at stake, but the freedom of his country and many lives within it. He heard yells of "Stop!" behind him, but only urged his horse faster, clinging to the animal's neck and mane to stop himself falling off.

They were twenty metres, fifteen now away. Once at the caves the soldiers had no chance of finding him again. Ten metres... Surely he would get there!


He heard the soldiers fire again, and cried out he was thrown off his horse as she reared up, then collapsed in agony. They'd hit her stomach. He doubted she could survive but it was him the soldiers wanted. Not his horse. Dragging himself off the ground and stumbling towards the caves with one last effort, he grabbed the rock and thrusted himself inside, somewhere safe.

He dropped to the floor, exhausted and lay there breathing heavily. If the soldiers decided to enter the caves they would find him; his message would never get through, his country would be lost.

"Get up" He muttered to himself, but stayed lying down as if mental commands had no effect on his body "come on, you've got to get up, get up now!"

Fresh strength surged through him. He reached out for the nearest boulder and pulled himself up. A yellow fire sprung from his fingertips, illuminating the rock in front of him so that he could see a path. Strangely, it didn't look as perilous as tales told. He heard hooves close behind him. They were following. Not daring to look behind, he hurried forwards and hoped that none of the soldiers had any form of light, whether magic or torch


Yellow plains went on as far as the eye could see. A few hills were dotted here and there but there were no trees, nor animals; neither were there any signs of people about. There weren't even any holes or burrows. He'd almost preferred the caves behind him.

Yet he walked on- when his legs grew tired from no rest, when his stomach growled unhappily of hunger, when his throat became so dry he could barely make a sound for the lack of water and calling wildly, he forced himself to move. What puzzled him was that it was not so hot as he had expected. But people spoke ill of Mystery and said it was a strange land where none who entered came out again from. It didn't matter what they said, though. He had to get help.

The invasion again ran through his mind. A normal day turned into a bloodbath, women screaming, children calling for their fathers while defenders fell one by one and enemies pushed them back. Within a day his homeland had been at their mercy. It had happened so quickly, hidden from other countries so well that no-one could have known. At first it had been thought they were a large group of rebels. Then their leader had appeared.

He cleared all thoughts from his mind of that unexpected horror and focused on trying to survive in the desolation. Until everything suddenly changed around him in the blink of an eye

The half-desert became fields of grass. Two villages had appeared out of nowhere and in the nearest one he could see many people milling about on their daily business. Trees had sprung up, many tall and proud with dark green leaves and white flowers, others tiny saplings. A group of soldiers stood around him blocking any means of escape. Each of them holding a rifle. And a thirteenth gun was pushed up into the skin of his throat before he had chance to react.

"What is such a stranger as yourself doing in our lands?" the man holding it demanded "Spying? We don't not often have visitors- especially ones such as yourself dressed in fine cloth"

"I bring a message" he answered quickly in a sort of half-desperation "I need to talk to your queen right away. My homeland- will you not help me?"

"What about your homeland?" the soldier said gruffly "From the way you talk I'd wager you come from Historical Fiction. As for seeing our Ruler, you will. Blindfold him one of you!"

A thick, black cloth of some sort was wrapped around him eyes, before they spun him round and pulled him roughly towards what he hoped was the palace of their Queen.

Afterwards, he remembered little of the journey except the ache in his legs and wishing for even the tiniest drop of water or food. But his captors didn't seem to like him, they pulled him along at a fast pace and when he stumbled told him to hurry up with not even a hint of pity in their voices. But soon they stopped and he was spun around before the blindfold was ripped off. He was about to try and get a glimpse of his surroundings when they half-threw him inside.

The room was gloomy and the windows seemed to let in no light. The only light he could see rested on a cloaked figure that he thought was female. Then she spoke:

"What brings you to my kingdom? And where do you come from. I could tell you were a stranger as soon as you crossed the border"

A sudden rush of relief coursed through him. He had made it. Surely she would help him!

"I come from the land of Historical Fiction" he managed to gasp out "We- we've been attacked. It was so quick, like lightning and no-one knows and my homeland is controlled by invaders and-"

"And what attackers were these?" Her voice was emotionless and the hood of her cloak hid most of her face so that he could not see an expression "Where did they come from? And why do you come here? Why did they attack you in the first place? What did your country do?"

"They- I don't know where they came from" he began again "Well I do now but no one did then, if you know what I mean. We didn't do anything, they just- their leader, she didn't appear until later on in the battle- it was Qu- Ruler Charlotte; we didn't do anything to them they just invaded- Can't you help? Do something!" Anger began to rise, how could she just stand there and question him unnecessarily when his country-

He didn't want to think about what had happened already there

"Enough!" she said "Do not be so rash. So you were invaded but the invaders had no other reason that greed and hunger for power you say, and then you tell me it was Charlotte's country. But this invasion was done quicker than it should be possible, you imply"

"Oh Ruler" began the captain at the door "The land of Fanfiction has not necessarily been our friend, but they are not invaders and they bear no grudge against Historical Fiction. I do not believe this- this 'messenger' speaks the truth. I rather think instead this man who comes unbidden into our land is trying to start this war he has made up. Maybe he was exiled, I don't not know. That is more likely to be true than what he says"

"Thats not true!" he cried, furious. Who did that man think he was?

"I mean" he quickly added "This soldier of yours, how would he have known? He guesses. He is not an advisor nor someone who uses his brain often. You have not heard what they say about your land in mine. It is very clear. They say it is unknown and dangerous to go there, they say none who enter come out again- such would you have us believe, I'm sure. I would not have come if my this had not happened to my country. What if this had happened to yours? What would you have done? There is no grudge involved as I have said and your captain has not listened to that. And do you think that they will stop at Historical Fiction? We are a smaller land than most, barely enough to satisfy even the least greediest of invaders. You may be next!"

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