Was this the turn Noel needed? Regardless, the fiery paralysis originally coursing through his body didn’t reappear for a second round. His words changed fiction, just like that. So the mirror image of him was correct, but why be blessed with such a gift? His purpose was to entertain with the words in his head, but now he needed to survive. Whatever this “Mr. Writer” thinks they can do, they’ll have to do it with a rebellious spirit.
The mirror image of him merely tilted its head to the side with neutral lips. A moment where the tides turn and the look is indifferent at best. Did he really believe that stupid fire bird with him was going to protect him? Noel didn’t want to inflict damage, but there was no way the copy could know of such a thing! He was free, after all.
“Well, thinking again. I think…” It said, pausing with hesitance before looking back to Noel. That indifferent face looked unaffected. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not as special as you think, Mr. Writer will put you in his place in his own time.”
“I’ve rejected him.” Noel replied, his green eyes direct with a glare despite his softer tone. “My purpose is beyond creating some stupid world for myself. I thank him for my existence, but I loathe him for forcing a reason that’s so wasteful.”
“Because you are so useful as you are right now.” A sarcastic quip of the clever tongue, looking to press buttons. “Weren’t you going to starve a few minutes ago? That would have been a purposeless story if you just passed in the middle of the snow.”
“What would you know about a good story?” Noel pressed. His journal was held firmly in his grip as he flipped through the pages. The most recent entry belonged to him, but the previous one before that was about the Phoenix letters. The most unfortunate mistake was the last line being a throwaway to fulfill the gimmick. So little love given with his words, it was pathetic to stare at.
“About as much as you know about how to survive. Looks like we both talk with no knowledge.” The copy retorted, sneering and crossing its arms in response. Seems like they were escalating, but there was no reason to hang around anymore if nothing is going to be done, right? “Though, I’m sure it’s not too late to turn back. You are a clever writer, surely we don’t have to see each other as enemies.”
They don’t have to indeed. Considering the cost of having that be the case and how Noel was being treated by the copy a moment ago, the deal wasn’t so appealing. Besides, if this “Mr. Writer” wanted to interfere with his stories by telling him what to do, then Noel wanted zero of that. This world was an empty canvas, but he used it to affect something much bigger.
This was a dome, but he refused to live in a bubble.
“If you possess no further value to me, then take your stupid bird and leave.” Noel rebuked, shooing the both of them with a dismissive swish of his left hand. It was the most obvious rejection, one that could sting with how bluntly it was delivered. But those feelings mattered none.
The copy merely laughed it off, a fair self-defense mechanism. But that laughter was light and mellow, followed by a half-closed set of eyes and a small smile. Smiles didn’t always mean happiness. The wind felt slightly harsher in response, though wind chill applied for neither of the Winter’s.
“I could kill you where you stand right now.” Mirror Noel’s threat. Noted, but not bought. In fact, those were very daring words to say to one who can write down whatever he desired. The giant fire bird behind him glared downwards onto its prey. The will of the copy held it back from trying to rip the creation to shreds. “But that would be too easy. I want to see how you do it.”
“I have zero intention of dying anytime soon.” Noel promised, but that only earned him another laugh. It was far shakier and more unstable than the last one. Fortunately, it was time for him to flee the scene anyways. After all, nighttime was soon to fall onto the world. With creation, he could bring the cottage back to life. The copy can freeze out there for all Noel cared, even if that wasn’t possible. Discomfort was still a factor.
“Everyone thinks that they can live forever. Everyone dies anyways.” The copy warned, though Noel listened too little.
Any shadow figure out in the distance is an interaction, that’s all Noel could gather. Rejecting the chance to come back to a creator, perhaps none will show up anyways. But if they do, he was going in armed. And so he took steps back from the direction he came from, for he looked to distance himself from the clone of him. It looked like he wasn’t being hunted down.
Sure, everyone dies eventually. But that doesn’t mean everything they did dies along with them. Influence. That’s the aim.
Now he was left to aimlessly walk through the snow once again, eventually alone once he gained enough distance from the area of the encounter. All he could do was continue writing, but now he can handle his needs. It all started with a few cookies and cream.
Care to read a few tales? I just happen to have a few!