The Atonement of a Writer

2. Living Proof

"I don't believe you did it," he told her firmly. His eyes, usually a calm forest, were ferocious.

She blinked. "Yeah, I know."

His fingers curled. "I'll--we'll get you out. I promise."

She then smiled that smile, one she ever only showed him. "I know. I believe in you."

It was like their usual roles were reversed; the calm and the chaotic.

She had never been one to panic in a crisis anyway. Because, no matter where she was, no matter where you put her, the critters were always there. She spoke, and they listened.

~*~

Lili's--or should she say, Arielle's?--forearm was red with abuse, but she didn't wake up. Instead, proof came with the second door-knock of the morning.

"Arielle? May I come in?" A young male's voice, deep and calm, resonated through the door.

"...Sure." With the intensity of someone spinning the wheel at a lottery, Lili, sitting at the desk, stared hard at the door. If her theory was correct, then the only person that would knock on Arielle's door right after she said she was ill would be...

The door slid open and a young man poked his head through. He had long, blue-black hair that fell to his eyes at the front, and tied up at the back, and eyes which were a soft, emerald green that spoke of tranquility. His dark, trimmed eyebrows complimented his clear, smooth skin and high cheekbones. Lili stared at the man before her--Killian Soule, Arielle's childhood friend, heir to the family that took Arielle in after her parents died. He was everything Lili had imagined, and so much more. In fact, Lili had to pinch herself again to make sure she wasn't dreaming, as if she hadn't done enough of that already. There was no way her imagination was so good that she could dream of something as beautiful and detailed as he. She had, of course, imagined him to be good-looking, however, as most writers go, never had a concrete image of him in her mind. The face in front of her was mind-blowingly awesome.

In other words, he was so handsome it should be illegal. A sliver of Lili's mind told her that she could actually look forward to living with this situation if all the other main characters were such jaw-dropping eye candy.

That didn't stop Lili from immediately feeling inferior to him, though of course, she thought wryly, it was something Arielle probably never felt. Lili imagined the face in the mirror with his. They were an aesthetic nobody could beat.

Killian and Lili just stared at each other. After a few seconds, Lili snapped out of it, and had barely begun to wonder why Killian was staring at her--was the way she was sitting un-Arielle-like?--when he suddenly exited and slammed the door close.

Well, that wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting.

"Killian?" She called out through the door, not without trepidation. Had she been found out already?

"Arielle." For some reason, Killian's voice sounded strained. "Are you feeling okay?"

"...Why?"

"...You're not...decent. Why did you let me in?"

Oh.

Oh.

Lili looked down. Her dressing gown was fixed, thankfully, so nothing much was showing. She supposed sleepwear was indecent, at least for nobles like him. Nobles like Arielle. She audibly smacked herself. How could she have forgotten? The novel was set in an aristocratic, 16th century-esque society. This may be a fantasy world filled with magic and mythological creatures, but it was still conservative.

The slow speed at which her brain moved amazed even herself sometimes.

Lili cleared her throat awkwardly. "I...apologize. I'm not feeling too well, so I guess it slipped my mind. We can talk like this, can't we?" Even though it would be awkward as hell. Too bad she had sent Sophie away before the maid could do anything.

She could, technically, get dressed--or rather, have Sophie help her get dressed, since noble fashion was extravagant, complicated and absolutely bothersome, even for a noble like Arielle, who hated clothes that restricted her movements--but the less she interacted with the people who actually knew Arielle, the less chance she had of messing it up. Even if she was the one who created these characters, there was no doubt that Killian and Sophie were the ones who knew Arielle best, having grown up with her. It wasn't like Lili kept meticulous files detailing each character, which she was well aware most writers did.

"Mother can take a look at you, if you want." Killian's concerned voice pierced through her thoughts.

At that, Lili almost slapped herself. Some creator she was. A teensy, tiny, detail had escaped her mind--the Soules were a family of healers. Magical healers who weren't easily fooled. Lord Soule was, in fact, the court physician who served the royal family. Killian was also a splendid healer himself, with a caladrius as a familiar, though that was almost never mentioned because familiars were technically illegal.

Though Lady Soule wasn't born a part of the family, her marriage bound her to Lord Soule by blood, so she could perform the most basic healing magic. Even she would be able to tell that there was absolutely nothing wrong with Lili.

There was nothing for Lili to say except for the fact that she was the stupidest person alive. Just what had she done right in the few hours she became Arielle?

"It's fine. I just didn't sleep well last night." Unlike Arielle, though, Lili was a great liar. Arielle was honest, in a blunt, almost unladylike way, but Lili had lied all her life--to her interviewers, teachers, family, and even her imaginary therapist. "I think I'll just rest up a bit."

Hopefully, that would be enough.

There was a moment of silence.

"Rest well, then." After what seemed like ages, Killian finally spoke up. "I'll have the servants bring food and water up to you."

"Thanks," Lili answered, and that was that. She knew Killian wouldn't push, because he never did. Not when it came to Arielle.

Once she was sure Killian was gone, Lili let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and flopped onto the bed with a groan.

There was no doubt about it. Everything was too elaborate to be a big coincidence. She had been hoping against hope it was all just a joke, but the way Killian reacted...it was not a joke.

Accept it, she told herself. Accept your new reality. Accept it. Accept it. Move on. She repeated those words in her head in a mantra, as if it would help her current situation. She shoved her head into the pillow and let out a muffled scream.

To hell with it.

Just two nights ago, she was creating ways to put her characters through hell and back. Now, she somehow turned into the protagonist, the one who got tortured most. Was this penance?

Arielle Dumont, a beast tamer, who suspected there might be more than what was written about her parents' deaths.

Killian Soule, a healer, the childhood friend.

As if those two characters weren't enough to give her a headache, there were two more that were the driving force behind The Empire's Inferno.

Clovis and Colette Lamoreux, the elementalists.