A Reflective Never

Although unfamiliar with the place in person, Akari knew it like the back of his hand; it was the hand that drew most of it anywho. But the man sitting across from him on velvet arrangements was no longer some stranger, for Akari drew him too.

Salaeus, the kingdom’s High-Arch Mage, second to the Royal Magician of Ethyrlys and close confidante of the royal family. Although on the brink of older years, he had a certain ‘kick’ to him, akin to a child's curiosity and wonder, of which he certainly was. After escorting Ain from the marble temple and into this manor, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the knight. Pale green pierced through into the silver armour Ain adorned, as if trying to melt it away. Weird was a weak word to call it.

“There’s tea, if you want it…” offered Salaeus.

Ain didn’t need the tea; food, beverages, all the necessities of a human didn’t concern him, though considering Akari was still very human, he instinctively did reach out for the cup, but stopped himself halfway in the movement. He needed to at least pretend like he’d woken up for the first time in his life.

Ain awakes encased in stone like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, and slowly he learns how to move. He becomes in tune with the magic coursing through him as a secondary to viscous ichor and finally, he is able to stand. The world around him is new and unlike anything he could ever imagine, it’s not his but he knows he’ll serve it well.

Just thinking about his own writing made Akari a little nauseous.

“You’re not hungry?.. Or—”

“Who are you?”

A stern-burnt stare rose to meet Salaeus’ green, and between the two, they’re able to determine who wins this intimidation round. Let’s play along for now. Akari knew what would happen anyway, he simply wanted to make sure whether this supposed character would stick to his lines or not, and if he did, it would make things a lot easier.

“Of course…” The mage rises from his seat, patting down his robes before facing Ain with a subtle smile as he bowed before the knight. “I am Salaeus, humble High-Arch Mage of the kingdom’s magical advisory.”

So far so good. Those weren’t the exact lines Akari could remember off the top of his head, for he couldn’t recall anything about a ‘magical advisory’, so he assumed it must’ve been something Haruka added. Regardless, this was Salaeus. From the way they spoke, it reflected on the dialogue Akari had previously written for him; a man who was conflicted with himself, his loyalties against his duties. He knows what he’s doing is bad, but can’t help it.

“You must have many questions,”

Well, not any you could answer.

“But I’ll begin small…” Salaeus hums, as if beginning to read a child a bedtime story. Which he was, in a way. “I created you. Of course, with magic, you’re not related to me or anything but I brought you to life essentially.”

That’s right. Prior to life, Ain was a statue in the gardens he awoke in, and it just so happened that Salaeus chose the knight sculpture. He needed someone strong but reliable, trustworthy and a general face of good-intent, and who better than to choose the one in shining armour. All this effort only to curse it.

“So I was a statue?”

“Yes! You’re Knight De Vonelle,”

The name didn’t ring a bell, and hearing it sent a shiver down Ain’s back; a foreign asset of the play, or rather, the story. He couldn’t remember ever mentioning a character or even the idea of a knight named ‘De Vonelle’ and he certainly would remember giving any background to the statues in the garden, if he did, which he didn’t. He was tempted to shove a hand into his mouth and start gnawing at his nails; of which was Akari’s habit, not Ain’s, so he held back on moving his hands from his lap at all.

“De Vonelle?”

“Most of the statues in the garden are characters from renowned plays, De Vonelle was in the princess’ knight in ‘The Sun-veiled Concerto’,” As Salaeus spoke, Akari did his best to pick up all this new information, hoping that maybe this was just filler for the world unmade outside of what he and Haruka had originally written. Did Haruka include this himself? The thought wasn’t unlikely.

If one was to compare how Akari and Haruka wrote their manuscripts, Akari disliked writing on the actual pages until Yuma read through it, whereas Haruka would usually arrive at the office with his manuscript scribbled over with hundreds of notes; mostly after-thoughts. Could it be that he might’ve jotted down a detail like that?

If only I had read it.

“I’m a knight?” Ain asked, mostly to himself.

“Yes, although, you don’t have a name, not yet, I’m sure the prince will have one for you,”

At the mention of the prince, Akari was slowly figuring out where they were in the manuscript so far. The second chapter most likely, stuck halfway as Salaeus tries to make Ain warm up to him, or via his ulterior motives, tries to settle him into his ‘role’.

For the next few minutes, Salaeus answered any questions Ain asked, although Akari purposely made them sound a little more dull to keep face. He asked whether he was made out of stone—which Akari didn’t know himself—and to his surprise, he wasn’t. In his manuscript, Akari had changed it so that Ain was still somewhat both marble and flesh, but Haruka must’ve kept their original draft. Salaeus had his own questions as well, such as if Ain knew where he was or directed inquiries to find out the capacity of his conscience.

Akari knew he couldn’t just spit out that he was perhaps the closest to all-knowing as of now, since he didn’t know how unpredictable the plot could sway if he were to diverge from what he and Haruka had written previously. Maybe this is a dream, a very long dream.

“The prince…” He mumbled absentmindedly. “Does he want a knight?”

Akari began testing the waters. This wasn’t a question or sentence ever written in his manuscript, but considering how off-track they were now with whatever Haruka added, he wanted to see if even the smallest discrepancy affected anything.

“A-Ah… But of course! A prince will always need their knights!”

“But I’m only one knight,” Ain responded swiftly.

“But you’re a knight with the strength of a hundred knights!” Salaeus rose from his seat, dramatically floundering his hands in a melodic gesture to emphasise his statement. What is with this guy… “In ‘The Sun-veiled Concerto’ the princess chose you out of a thousand knights because not only were you the strongest, but your looks also won her over!”

This was all so new. The information, not the moment; Akari could definitely remember writing something about how high-octane and abrupt Salaeus was—that’s what made him such a terrifying antagonist. His flashy movements were certainly a sight to behold, to think that someone Akari had spent more time writing about than actually writing in his draft was here, before him, fumbling about like a melodramatic.

“Here, see for yourself,”

Just then Salaeus reached out for Ain’s arm, grabbing the knight and hauling him up from the seat with a great tug to pull him towards the wall. There he centred the knight right in front of a wall mirror, its delicate frame adorned in wooden carvings with floral particulars, making it seem as if flowers were growing from right behind his reflection.

What Akari saw was another familiar face, but one he had never been able to draw to his liking. Out of all the characters, Akari had the most trouble putting a signature appearance to Ain, excluding the obvious traits of him wearing armour and his characteristic white hair. But whenever the artist drew Ain, he never looked the same across all his saved files.

This Ain was more to Akari’s liking. Tall. proper and handsome, as his original description was, but there was a softness somewhere mixed in his sharper features, hidden beneath the definition. When you looked at him, there was an ethereal charm that guided allure and this conventional appeal. After all, attractiveness was subjective, but it felt wrong to try and say he was anything less.

When he saw himself in the fountain’s reflection, he could only take in the earmark predominance to satisfy his curiosities; but simple ‘long white hair’ did not do justice to the very thick and long locks that fell over the knight’s shoulders—and with a glance downwards—all the way to his hips. Near his roots the shimmer was undeniably silver-white, but further towards the tips the strands shifted into a gradient of soft blond and iridescent purple. He wasn’t just ethereal, he was otherworldly.

His eyes beheld their own, taking in the peculiar hue. Initially, he guessed a purple from afar, but upon taking a step forward, he could see that in between the shade sat pale greys and again, the iconic silver of his countenance. The easier colour for it would be ‘light purple’ but its paleness under direct light diffused any saturation and would become a hollow white.

This was an Ain Akari was sure he could never draw.