Her eyes, those brilliant golden eyes, are fixed on me with a gaze I've never experienced before in this life. Something feels off. Did she mean "hers" as in I belong to her, as her man? Or just as a friend? I must be overthinking this. There's no way Roxy, of all people, would actually be into me.
"You dare talk back?" she roars in my ear, making my head spin. "Do you think I won't kill you just because you have his face?"
So she really did misunderstand everything. But how am I supposed to explain to her that I am the Quill she once knew? At the same time, the unfairness of the whole situation stokes a fire inside me. Does she really think I'm a pushover?
[Courage +1]
"Says the woman who ties up a naked man in her room against his will. Are you so into me that you can't resist your temptations? Not only did you drag me here for no reason, now you're accusing me of not being myself? I expected better from you, Roxy…" The words spill from my mouth before I can stop them. "You were always our leader, but you were brutal. Looks like some things never change…"
"You—" Her body visibly trembles, her eyes shimmering with that same mysterious intensity, but now… for some reason, they're even more watery.
"You are him after all… the same asshole… the same idiot… You said those exact words to me back then—that I'm brutal? Is that why you ran away?" Tears start rolling down her cheeks as she leans against the axe hilt, holding herself like she might collapse. The sharp edge of the axe dips closer, just millimeters from my family heirloom.
"Roxy—listen, can you just—!?" Cold sweat washes over me. I'm one step closer to living life as a wizard.
"No!" she barks, voice trembling and mouth full of tears. "I will not shut up! Enough, Quill, enough! You betrayed me. You left me here all alone. Do you even understand how terrifying it was? A girl, kicked out of the village for being too chaotic, too brutal—a thief, a scum, cast away by everyone she loved… And most importantly, cast away by—you…" She leans on the axe, shoulders shaking. I watch, barely breathing, as the blade lifts from the floor—giving me a fleeting sense of relief.
"I can't anymore, Quill… I just can't. I hoped, I really hoped you'd accept me one day… but if you don't, then—" The axe rises high. Roxy positions herself like she's about to chop firewood. But there's no firewood here… Wait.
"No, stop, Roxy! I can explain!"
"No." She shakes her head, her eyes now completely blank. "Goodbye, my Quill…" She lets the axe swing, and I'm met with the icy promise of incoming doom.
I have to act fast—do something. Time freezes in my eyes. My mind races, searching for any escape. And suddenly, I remember: there's only one last gamble I can use.
I'm the author of the story. The quill is always in my fingers…
I let my heart take over. That mysterious surge of power rises up, and I feel a small object press gently against my clenched fingers: hard and round, but soft and ticklish at the tip.
My quill!
Time snaps back into motion. There's no time to think. I move my fingers, writing in the air without looking, desperate for the words to come out exactly as I wish.
{Freeze Roxy}
The axe stops cold, hovering just inches from my stomach, close enough to split me in half like a BBQ.
I'm alive… I'm okay… A wave of relief crashes over me—maybe the best feeling I've ever had. I can't believe it actually worked. I managed to summon the quill and stop her! My heart pounds with joy, but I'm not out of trouble yet.
Roxy might be frozen in place, but her eyes are still trembling. She's probably aware of everything happening right now, and just as confused as I am.
Let's try something else.
{Roxy gently lifts her axe away from the man in front of her, moves to the corner, and sits down. She falls into a deep sleep and will not awaken until the man wakes her.}
She does exactly as I wrote. Her body moves on my command, settling into the corner and drifting into sleep, axe resting by her side.
I let out a massive sigh of relief. "All good now…" But in my excitement, I forgot one crucial detail—I never told her to untie me. I'm such an idiot…
Then again, maybe it's for the best. I should probably learn how to escape dangerous situations myself.
For simple things like controlling other characters, I don't need to burst my finger and swap it out for the quill. But for this… there's no choice. It hurts like hell, but I'm starting to get used to it.
The quill quickly replaces my finger, and I draw a cross shape in the air. Apparently, I only need to sketch the outline of what I'm thinking; the rest is all about imagination. That's what makes the quill so powerful.
A pair of giant scissors materializes in the air, cutting through the main rope holding my body in place, freeing my arms. Next, I shift the scissors into a knife and carefully guide it with my quill, slicing through the rope around my wrists.
Finally, "I'm free!" I jump to my feet, arms raised in triumph, though my pride is running for cover. Now I'm the only naked person in the room, with an unconscious girl at my feet. If someone were to walk in right now, I'd probably die from embarrassment.
"Quill! I'm here to rescue you!" Powder bursts through the door, sword in hand. Our eyes meet.
"Powder, it's not what it looks like! I swear!" I try to explain, but he just stares, face twisting in disgust. Without a word, he closes the door and leaves as silently as he entered.
…Shit. Looks like I'll have to learn how to wipe memories today.