Chapter 203 – Imitation and Creation (Two)

The youth had three Rings.

…Though his face wasn’t familiar, the multi-colored Mana contained within his Rings had a distribution and ratio I had seen before.

“May I sit beside you for a moment?”

A gentle smile.

A mild and courteous tone.

And, a sketchbook in hand.

Ray nodded without a word, and the youth fetched a wooden crate that was lying around and sat on it next to him.

His neat-looking clothes didn’t seem cheap, but his movement of sitting on the dirty crate was completely unhesitant.

“My name is Solite. If it’s not an imposition, might I observe your artistic activity from the side for a bit?”

A deep interest emanated from the youth’s gaze as he looked at Ray’s drawing.

“Don’t care.”

“Thank you. If you feel any discomfort during your work, please let me know anytime, and I will withdraw.”

The conversation paused for a moment.

The boy’s pencil busily moved across the drawing paper, and the youth didn’t take his eyes off Ray for a single moment.

Soon, the drawing was complete.

Points, lines, and planes of indeterminate form advocated chaos and disorder on the white paper.

‘It’s still difficult. Even with a lot of practice, it doesn’t seem like it’ll change much.’

Just as Ray was frowning slightly in thought, a deep sigh was heard.

“Oh…! The control of line weight is unselfconscious yet precise, and the omissions and abbreviations are bold, making it extremely impressive. That one can reinterpret a subject in this way… it’s truly a drawing worthy of being called a work of art.”

“……?”

According to the judgment of a boy who prided himself on being somewhat socialized, this was clearly mockery.

A surge of emotion welling up instantly.

Ray glared at the youth.

‘Eliminate him. Right here.’

Lacria inside the gem nodded as if ready.

“Might I ask what you were drawing?”

“The scenery I see before my eyes right now.”

“The circle in the center must be the fountain.”

“That’s the car.”

“Then the wheeled subject on the left must be the car.”

“That’s the fountain.”

“This must be a balloon.”

“That’s a pedestrian. It’s on the ground.”

Having finished his answers, Ray nodded as if reaching a conclusion.

‘Eliminate him. Without a trace.’

Lacria, Attuned to his will, fiercely flicked its small tongue.

The moment Ray began drawing up Mana, the youth continued speaking.

“So this is the shape of the world as you see it, sir. Frankly, it’s a form of painting style I’ve never seen in my life. I cannot fathom how many years of patient endurance you must have gone through to construct such a unique world.”

“……”

Ray momentarily calmed his excitement.

He realized now, but the other’s Vessel contained no particular malice or intent to mock.

In other words, he was being sincere.

“I envy you.”

“Envy me?”

“Yes, because I lack such a unique painting style. My skills are lacking, but would you take a look once?”

As Ray nodded, the youth opened his sketchbook and showed him the drawings.

Children playing joyfully in the street.

A lively shopping district and Merchants.

A panoramic view of the Sector from a high tower.

Each one boasted such precision and high completion that it evoked the image of a photograph.

“Seems well drawn.”

“No. I merely imitated and drew what I saw well. It falls far short of being called a work of art.”

His voice carried a tone of regret, but no hint of self-deprecation or pessimism could be detected.

The youth continued.

“Transferring something that already exists onto paper isn’t difficult. With steady practice, anyone can do it eventually. But creating a unique world is a completely different kind of task. Namely, something only possible with imagination.”

Imagination.

A word he had been engrossed with lately emerged from the mouth of an unexpected person at an unexpected time.

Ray expressed the question that arose without hesitation.

“What do you think imagination is?”

“That’s a question with many possible answers. For now, regarding painting, the imagination I think of is one’s perspective on the world.”

“Perspective on the world?”

“Yes. A painting is something that inevitably projects the painter’s subjectivity. Depending on one’s perspective on the world, even drawing the same subject can yield completely different results.”

Perspective on the world.

Ray lowered his gaze to check the other’s Vessel.

Red, orange, yellow….

Love, gratitude, excitement….

The emotions of bright and warm colors indicated that the other viewed the world very positively.

Indeed, the drawings he saw earlier were all of bright and lively atmospheres.

Next, he checked the other’s Rings.

They contained Mana of the same colors visible in the current Vessel.

All three Rings were like that.

The Mana distribution within a Ring reflects the Wizard’s disposition at the time of its construction.

It meant he had maintained a positive gaze toward the world from the moment he constructed his first Circle until now.

He suddenly realized.

‘By looking at the Rings, you can know how that person has lived. And also, how they currently view the world.’

A question suddenly arose.

What is my way of viewing the world?

It was a question he had never once considered, having lived only for tomorrow’s survival until now.

For a moment, he felt as if the outer bounds of the world expanded, and he slowly lowered his gaze to check his own Rings.

Red. Light pink. Purple.

Yellow. Blue. Green. Gray, etc.

The various colored Mana acquired during his travels so far were swimming dynamically inside the Rings.

Besides that, also a small proportion of Mana sparkling like grains of sand.

“……”

Come to think of it, his own Rings had a structure different from that of ordinary Wizards.

The charged Mana freely roamed all areas without distinction between Rings.

It meant he couldn’t guess in what way he himself viewed the world.

Because the Mana distribution constantly changed, so the color occupying the largest portion in each Ring differed each time.

‘…I don’t really have any fixed perception, though.’

Find the Rainbow.

Repay what is received.

Protect precious ones.

Excluding a few major principles, his perception of the world had continuously changed each time he gained insight at various journey destinations.

Was that why such formless drawings came out?

Ray muttered without realizing it.

“I want an accurate drawing.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I want to draw a picture where you can clearly tell what the subject is, like yours.”

The youth, his eyebrows raised, spoke as if puzzled.

“If you put your mind to it, can’t you do that as much as you want?”

“No. I can’t do that. I only started drawing for the first time today.”

“You are skilled at jokes.”

“I can’t do things like jokes.”

Their gazes met briefly.

Ray felt the other was reading something in his eyes.

“…You’re serious.”

The youth’s bewildered voice.

He seemed shocked to realize that Ray’s drawing wasn’t the product of some grueling effort, but simply a result of being gruelingly bad at drawing.

But he soon returned to his original expression and spoke.

“However… if you produce such a painting style without any foundation, that could rather be called a tremendous talent.”

“It feels like you’re making fun of me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You said drawing a picture using one’s own imagination is only possible after a solid foundation is built.”

“Who said that?”

“Grine.”

“Who is that?”

“My drawing teacher. Has extremely keen observational skills, and draws well.”

A moment of silence.

Ray added as if he’d just remembered.

“And likes meat.”

“I see.”

The youth, nodding, steadied his breath and spoke in a persuasive tone.

“In my view, your drawing already has overflowing imagination melted into it. Of course, foundation is important, that’s true. But. Occasionally, there are such people. Those who skip the foundation everyone must go through and reach the realm of a master in one leap. We call such people geniuses.”

Ray answered immediately.

“I’m not a genius.”

“No. You possess definite talent. You don’t need to be too obsessed with the idea of imitating the subject. I recommend developing your current painting style, leveraging its strengths. No, you must do so. Because─”

The youth’s gaze turned to Ray’s drawing in the sketchbook.

“─it would be such a pity to postpone the birth and development of such an impressive world.”

No need to choke on imitation.

Advice completely opposite to Grine’s.

It was at that moment that the Mana within the boy’s Rings writhed minutely.

Ray, who had been staring intently at the youth, opened his mouth.

“Drawing doesn’t seem to be your profession.”

“It’s one of several things I do. But as I worked on it steadily, a not-small desire grew, so I’m pouring a lot of passion into it.”

Then a man approached, glanced at Ray, and whispered to the youth.

“High Priest Solite. The Bishop is looking for you.”

The youth seemed to be a figure belonging to the Order with a fairly high position, but Ray wasn’t that surprised.

He had once made eye contact with the other during the Order’s street procession.

He had guessed his status.

Even if not the exact position.

Solite, rising from his seat, looked at Ray for a long while before speaking.

“Would you perhaps like to come along? I think we have much to talk about.”

“……”

A brief silence flowed.

Thud─

Ray’s world disappeared beneath the sketchbook’s cover.

Sector Northern Outskirts.

“Have you been to a Cathedral before, sir?”

“This is the first time.”

The Cathedral stood tall among damp buildings, boasting a splendid and majestic grandeur.

Near the entrance, a crowd bustled, likely due to free food distribution in progress.

“Then you probably aren’t familiar with our Order’s doctrines or main beliefs either.”

“Probably not.”

“Let me briefly explain─”

“It’s Solite-nim!”

A shout came from the food line.

People who turned their heads spotted Solite and came swarming over.

“Solite-nim! I wanted to see you!”

“Did you have a good night last night!”

“To me, to me, a word of blessing…!”

Shabby and ragged appearances.

Solite, without flustering, greeted them with a gentle smile.

“Devotee Ron, your injured leg seems to have healed. That’s fortunate. Karsel, your complexion looks better than yesterday. Jack, as I told you, I am not a Saint.”

Replies were given one by one.

Afterwards, Solite and Ray passed through the crowd and entered the Cathedral.

A Hall of vast width.

A ceiling of dizzying height.

Between the massive pillars supporting the Cathedral, Priests and Devotees were moving about.

‘Most Priests are 1st, 2nd Circle. The Mana in their Rings has a high proportion of orange.’

It was Mana of a color primarily associated with gratitude and a peaceful heart.

The Priests and Devotees also recognized Solite, approached, and showed deep respect along with their greetings.

“But the child beside you…”

“He is my guest.”

They seemed surprised by the fact that Solite had brought someone.

Of course, the boy in question was merely unable to take his eyes off the paintings lined along the wall.

They were paintings with a peculiar feel.

Silhouettes made of light were engaged in various activities in each frame.

“It’s God.”

“God?”

“Yes. The God who created the world.”

Solite added.

That all the religious paintings in the Cathedral were works he himself had painted.

“But if it’s God, then a voyeu─”

“Yes?”

“─Never mind, it’s nothing.”

Ray, who was about to say ‘voyeur’, swallowed his words.

And pursued his question.

“All these paintings were drawn by Solite?”

“That’s correct.”

“Even I, who doesn’t know much about painting, can tell they’re amazing. To this degree, it seems you could say you have your own unique world.”

“No. I merely transferred passages from scripture directly into images. There is nothing I have fully reinterpreted or created anew myself.”

Converting text into images.

It seemed a sufficiently impressive feat, but Solite appeared to think it was still far from enough.

Thud─ Thud─

Moving further inside again.

Before long, a massive sphere surrounded by a rope prohibiting entry appeared before their eyes.

A surface smooth as an eggshell.

The basic color was white.

Large patterns of red, orange, and yellow, resembling spreading starlight, covered the surface like a mosaic.

Around it, Priests and Devotees were seen bowing their heads in silent prayer.

Solite spoke in a small voice.

“It’s the Artificial Sun.”

“I saw it during the procession.”

“Yes. You likely could. It’s a large-volume sculpture conspicuous anywhere on the streets.”

Solite, nodding, continued with a slightly complicated look in his eyes.

“Originally, the sun is said to have embraced all things under the clear sky with warm sunlight. But at some point, for unknown reasons, its light weakened, and it hid its form among the Black Clouds.”

“……”

“Everyone harbors a shadow. No matter how bright the outwardly visible expression and actions may be, the shadow of worry and anxiety resides deep within the heart. But if the sun rises. All shadows in the world will disappear. We are searching for a person who can breathe light into the Artificial Sun.”

Solite, having steadied his breath for a moment, stared straight into Ray’s eyes and said.

“Our God, that is.”