His eyes were forced to daze upon the Phoenix in its glory, from its flames to its feather flicks, not a detail was left unchecked by hollow green eyes. This was absolute insanity, this wasn’t something Noel wanted to believe. Whatever words that were written in his journal had to be tainted, and he didn’t wish to believe in such a concept.
Noel didn’t hide his disapproval through his gaze, but little did the Mirror Noel care.
“Do you believe in second chances?” The copy of him asked, stepping forward towards the winged-beast, dropping the journal and pen to the ground. He wanted to open his arms to it, embracing his creations. The phoenix looked down towards its owner with those massive red orbs, though they softened at the sight a second later. “Mr. Writer does. But he didn’t mention a third or fourth one.”
Noel could only stare, feeling pressed to answer, yet couldn’t muster the energy to do so. A critical level of static in his body forced him into an unfortunate numb state. At least he could glare at his copy, though clearly outmatched by the mythical… Or once-deemed mythical creature and its master.
“Riiiiight, authority.” Mirror Noel remarked, placing the tip of his right finger on his chin. With that, he spun on his heels to look back towards the original Noel. “I suppose I could let you go~.”
Such cockiness struck an additional nerve, one that sparked above the rest being placed under restriction. But there was nothing to be done, for Noel knew not of combat techniques. Even if that wasn’t the case, the boy was outmatched without reinforcements.
Though there was nothing to signal a cause for it, the static in Noel’s body slowly fizzed out from his body. Of course, the pain was only slightly lessened, for only time could remedy an attack from the inside. But at least he was given the chance to move and speak yet again. His breath felt so clear as well.
“Y-You…” Noel tried to speak quickly, feeling himself about to hurl in attempting to do so in a hurry. A balled right fist would be used to compress the air in his lips. Nasty. Mental note, take it far slower. “I can create… Whatever I write?”
“If you believe it can come true, absolutely!” Mirror Noel replied cheerily as if he were just some supporting friend. Noel had to wonder how much faith there was in him, for that was faith he had intentions of breaking.
“And the part when you hold it up to your chest?” The original of the two pressed, though he bit back any spite and mock. While numb, the traces of pain left on his body reminded him of danger should he be sarcastic. Witty words were not fighting words, just ones that are well thought out.
Silence filled the space between them for a second. One was smiling, one was frowning. That was enough of an answer for him. Oh, and the bird looked down with dull-eyes, staring at Noel. Feeding time wasn’t happening, what a pity.
Admittedly, this was also a leap of faith. Noel heard of a “Mr. Writer.” Second chance, hm? Unfortunately, that was a concept that shouldn’t have been a thing in his eyes. For that first chance was the only one “Mister” will get. Assuming any of this is even true, but that firebird looking to turn him to ashes suggested little reason to doubt.
“I know my role.” Noel declared as he walked over to the journal, which was now gathering snow. “What is yours?”
“I thought that would be obvious by now!” The copy replied so confidently, letting loose lips take control. “I remind you of your purpose, demonstrating it to you and whatnot.”
“And what happens when ‘Mr. Writer’ believes you have fulfilled your purpose?” Noel pressed.
“I’m the same as you. I know absolutely nothing.“
Noel looked at the journal in his hands before flipping the pages over towards the next blank one. There was so little interest in reading whatever was written previously. If he believed it could become real… It will become real. That was the concept, his “role”. To create a world, make his own story with him in it.
Pathetic. Everything would come so easily. There was no story in that, it was just a paradise. A perfect world where there is no conflict. Reality wouldn’t wish for such a read, that was impossible to enjoy.
Mr. Writer, whoever he was, he didn’t make a compelling role for Noel to fulfill. Perhaps it was extreme, but there was a much better job to complete. And so he would pick the pen from the ground shortly after so that he could scribble a small haiku hastily.
“Embrace a grim fate
Perish for mere foolishness
I choose to be free.”
“We are not the same at all.” Noel finally spoke, eyes glaring at his mirror image. The simple clothing, the smallest details, even the unique eyes. Exactly the same in design, yet so painfully different in every other aspect. “In fact, we couldn’t be any more different.”
“Pfft! Whatever you have written, you can’t change a thing in Writer’s world.” The copy cockily declared. He soon raised a confident right arm, an orange light emitting from the palm of the open hand. “I don’t think you recollect your state a minute ago. A reminder is in order.”
Mirror Noel issued a command.
But nothing happened.
Care to read a few tales? I just happen to have a few!