A Vast Fantasy World

The first sensation I feel is grass beneath my feet and wind brushing against my skin. I look around to see rolling green hills and mountains in the distance. Crawling up the side of the rocky mountainside is greenery, clearly a vast forest. The skies are blue with a few fluffy clouds drifting by lazily.

“What. The. Fuck?” I stumble around, my gaze crossing my surroundings but finding no trace of the naked woman or the mirror.
Don’t panic, Master. I can hear the woman’s voice, but I can't see her anywhere.
“Where did you go!?” I shout, panicking a little.
I’m still in the studio, Master, but I can communicate with you as long as you are here. Welcome to Seradyne, this is the world that the mirror’s previous owner created.

“What? This is a different world?” I examine my surroundings more closely. Nothing about it seems fake or out of place. “It seems so real.”
For all intents and purposes, it is real, Master. This world has its own ecosystem, its own geology, it even has its own inhabitants.
“There are people here?”
Of course. It was designed to be a perfect world of fantasy and magic, I believe.

This revelation strikes a deep chord in me. I remember that this mirror belonged to my grandfather. Though I know little of him, I know he had a passion for the classic fantasy genre like me, the last gift I remember getting from him when I was a teenager was the set of The Lord of the Rings books, which is what sparked my passion for the genre, and made me want to be a writer. The idea that my grandfather would create a fantasy world full of magic and mystical creatures does not surprise me in the least.

Suddenly the vertigo returned, and I was once again inside “the Studio” as the woman called it. Yet again, she was there, standing nude in front of me.
“Since you are here, and you are certainly not my previous Master, I can only assume he has passed away and left you this mirror in his will. This is the only way the mirror could have taken you here.” She says.
“Uh, yeah.” You reply, a little out-of sorts after your jaunt between worlds.

“Well, that means you now own this place, and the world your predecessor left behind is yours as well. You may use the Studio to alter his world or erase it to make way for a new world.” That seems simple enough.
“Where do you fit into all of this, though?” I ask.
“I’m the Studio. Or, at least I’m a part of the Studio that you can interact with. I can answer any questions you have, or even make changes at your request if you’d rather not take a hands-on approach. However, if you prefer the latter…” she makes her way to the door in the room with the artist’s brush painted on it and opens it, gesturing for me to enter.

I enter to find a much larger room full of various creative tools. I immediately spot an easel, a writing desk, a block of marble and a stool, even a variety of musical instruments. There was much more, enough that I feel a bit overwhelmed.
“If you are the creative sort, you can use anything in this room to give inspiration or directly change the world you create, designing every last detail.” She explains. That really piques my interest. I'm a writer, a creative person by nature, I quite like the idea of writing my own world and having it become a reality. I do spot a problem, however, and ask
“How would anyone have enough time to design every aspect of an entire world.”
“This studio is timeless, you won’t age here, and time won’t pass here. For that matter, each world is temporally exclusive. This means that time will only pass if you are in that world. You could spend hundreds of years in Seradyne and not age a second in your world, and visa versa. If you’re in the Studio, time won’t pass in either world.” The woman explains.

Well that certainly makes things easier.

“But,” the woman continued, “if you prefer, you can just tell me what you want to change and I will do it for you more quickly, though it may not be exactly how you imagine it.”

I walk back into the main room and look at the door on the other side, with the hanger on it.
“What’s in that room?" I ask.
“It’s a dressing room. You can alter any aspect of your appearance or attire in that room, to make sure you fit in with whatever locals inhabit your world. I can help you with that when you’re ready.” The woman says.
"You seem to be able to help with everything. I do feel a bit awkward just calling you "The Woman" though. Don't you have a name?"
"No," she replies. "I have no name. You are free to call me whatever you wish." That just makes things harder. I can't think of a name. I look around the room for inspiration and one of the titles of the books catches my eye. It's about Greek Mythology. That gives me an idea.
"From now on I think I'll call you...Muse." The woman seems happy at that.

"I like that name, master. Muse. It is a good name."

"I'm glad you like it. Now, there's no time like the present, so I'm going to go create my own world." I walk back into the larger room, plunk myself down at the writing desk and begin to create.