“Chronicler!!” she shouted as she stormed into the Chronicler’s chambers. As she threw open the doors she noticed how…bright…it was. Not at all like the usual darkness that shrouded the room.

    “What are you doing in my room?!” shouted a nasally voice from the corner. Jury paused before continuing into the room. That voice did not sound like it belonged to the Chronicler of Stories, but who else would be in his inner sanctum? She decided her mind was playing tricks on her and allowed her rage to consume her again, ignoring his outburst.

    “Would you care to explain to me what you did to my last narrative?!” fumed the Shaper. “I spent months on that prologue, months! And where do you take it?!”

    “What?” replied the Chronicler, hidden beneath his cloak with his back to the Shaper. “What’d I do wrong?”

    “I set everything in motion for you! That woman was supposed to be in that car crash! Her struggle to regain her mobility was to inspire handicapped people across the globe! And what do you do? You have to go and save her, remove her from the equation! She had a purpose and you completely ruined it!”

    “It didn’t seem fair,” argued the Chronicler, and it appeared to Jury that he shrugged his shoulders, though it was hard to tell with the oversized cloak he had manifested today. “Why should she have to go through that? I decided to save her.”

    “Since when has fair mattered to you? It’s your job to move along the narratives I set in motion!” Jury argued. She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

    “You can’t tell me what to do! What I do with a narrative is my concern, not yours! You’re not the boss of me! I’m the Chronicler of Stories!” whined the Chronicler. He spun around to face the Shaper.

    Jury gasped in shock. The boy before her could not have been the Chronicler of Stories! The air of mystery and superiority that was normally palpable around the Chronicler was gone. If it weren’t for the raven perched on his shoulder and the large cloak that was two sizes too big, she would never have mistaken the boy for the Chronicler. “What have you done with the Chronicler of Stories!” demanded Jury.

    “He is the Chronicler,” boomed the voice of Dark Thugos as he entered the room. The former tyrant of the Sol Empire strode into the room, the air of malice surrounding him as overwhelming as the Chronicler’s own was absent.

    “Told ya,” jeered the Chronicler.

    “But how can this be?” mused Jury, partially to herself and partially to her fellow office holders.

    “When the Lair Legion,” began Thugos, spitting out with disgust the name of his former rivals, “was reduced in age, apparently it affected members past, present, even honorary. And as our esteemed colleague the Chronicler was once the human,” again, the disgusted tone, “Gregory Burch, it would seem that he was not immune from the effect. Quite amusing, actually.”

    “You have to end the narrative!” warned Jury. “Bring it to a close, restore him! Without the Chronicler to guide events along their destined and natural path, the Parodyverse will erupt into chaos!” The Shaper paused to consider her statement. “More so than usual, anyway.”

    “I think we’ll let things play out a little longer,” said the Destroyer of Tales. “I have to say that I’m quite enjoying the show.”

    “But if this isn’t resolved soon, the Parodyverse could destroy itself!” The Shaper shouted. Not for the first time she wished that the Parodyverse would let her take action against her fellow member of the Triumvirate.

    “Wouldn’t that be a pity,” said Thugos smugly as he turned and walked from the room.

    “So, do I get cable on my scrying pool?” asked the Chronicler.

Author's Note: I don't think I've ever written these characters before, so apologies if I screwed them up. I also couldn't remember if the Chronicler has a scrying pool or if that's somebody else, so I'm gonna hedge my bets and hope I got it right.