Chapter five: inside the painting
As caelum kept drawing, the quill was starting to feeling heavier in his grip now.
Adding the final strokes to the drawing, caelum's fingers went numb, but he refused to stop.
'Not yet, not yet, not yet...The classroom is almost complete.'
His mind swayed between clarity and exhaustion, the edges of his vision dimmed as his willpower bled into the ink. It was an odd sensation, one he was used to after all this time, but caelum still couldn't fully understand it. And it was even worse this time, the quill took everything out of him with just one painting.
He could feel it being drawn from him, leaving his body heavier with each passing second. His breath was shorter now, but he gritted his teeth and kept going.
He took in every carefully placed detail with his tired eyes. The desks were worn but sturdy, some marked with faint carvings from restless students. The chalkboard stood at the front, with a ghostly layer of dust lingering over it, remnants of past lessons.
The windows stretched high along the wall, and beyond them, the warm hues of an evening sky bled into the room, casting elongated shadows over the wooden floor.
Caelum could tell this was beyond the level of a human's drawing.
But ofcourse, it wasn't all perfect. The seats were empty, without any students. And most notably for him, the absence of her.
He had stopped himself before. Even now, a part of him urged him to add that one missing piece, to place her in that seat by the window, where she had always sat, where she had always turned to him with a blooming smile.
But he couldn't, his mind felt sluggish, he was drowning in exhaustion.
And more importantly, somewhere deep inside, instinct told him that if he put her on that page, if he defined her with the quill, it wouldn't just be a simple drawing.
The last stroke of the sunlight spillied across the desks. His body felt like it was sinking, his limbs were heavy, his consciousness slipping was, 'Come-on, just a little more.
And with the One last touch, a sharp wave of dizziness slammed into him. The quill slipped from his fingers, rolling across the desk.
Caelum's vision tunneled as exhaustion crashed over him like a breaking wave.His head hit the desk, and everything went dark.
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"Ughh."
"Wh-hat." A intense pain greeted caelum as he came back to his senses.
Somehow, his body felt like it had been pressed into the very fabric of the universe, drained of everything but awareness. His eyelids were heavy, his mind was sluggish, like he had been dragged through an ocean of ink and left to sink.
Slowly and painfully, he cracked his eyes open.
A light Darkness greeted him. The room that had been filled with the warm glow of sunlight was now swallowed in shadow, the only light visible was coming from the faint glow of the city beyond his window.
His eyes instinctively looked towards the clock.
8:00 PM.
"Its already this late, Had i really been out that long?"
His body protested as he tried to move, his head throbbed, a dull, insistent pain gawned at his skull.
Slowly and slowly, memories began piecing themselves back together. "Yes the drawing, the painting of the classroom!"
Caelum could recall completing the painting before being hit with the willpower drain.
"Hah.I feel like a dead man." The fatigue was worse this time. He had known that larger creations took more out of him, but this… this was way too much man!
This was the most realistic thing he had ever drawn, and the toll had been unlike anything before.
He swallowed, glancing toward the desk.
The book lay open. And the classroom was there, ink that seemed to contain all colours packed neatly into the page.
The painting was complete. And now, it was time to test it. With effort, he leaned back in his chair.
"First, i need to get my ass onto the kitchen. Ugh im hungry." he could feel his stomach crying out loud.
With another look at the painting, caelum stood up. He needed to rest to recover and nothing is better than a good meal after hard work.
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The room came to life as Caelum switched on the lights.
The old bulb overhead cast a pale, uneven glow across his desk, the ink-stained pages and scattered sketches now fully visible. The light was harsh at first, stabbing at his sleep-heavy eyes, but he didn't care. Anything was better than the suffocating darkness he woke up to.
With a grunt, he went twords the door, 'Water, i need water.'
Flipping the switch as he entered the cold bathroom. He leaned over the sink, he turned the faucet, splashing his face with cool water. The chill jolted him awake, sending a sharp shiver down his spine.
His hair was a mess, his face looked no different from a homeless thug.
"What a Stunning face i have," Caelum motivated himself, rubbing the towel across his face.
"Gurll~" His stomach grumbled, demanding that he treat it like a functioning organ.
'What to eat... hum?'
"Instant noodles? No, i had already abused those enough for one lifetime. Egg toast?"
Then, he glanced at his old fridge. "Fried rice, yes that would do."
He pulled out ingredients from the old fridge; eggs, Onion, Leftover rice from two nights ago. Also Some vegetables that were probably still edible.
'Good enough.' he placed everything on the counter. Cooking wasn't difficult, but it was an effort, and right now, effort was the last thing he wanted to put into anything.
Still, he needed to eat. So he followed the steps for making 'uncle-Roger' level fired rice.
Step one: Heat oil. Step two: Scramble the eggs. Step three: Throw everything into the pan and pray for the best.
He cracked an egg into a bowl, whisking it lazily with a fork. The onion was chopped in rough, uneven pieces that would have made any professional chef weep.
He turned on the stove, drizzling oil into the pan, and waited for the sizzle.
His mind wandered as he stirred the eggs, cooking before sliding them to the side of the pan. He tossed in the onions, watching as they softened, their sharp scent fillied the air.
And then, as expected, his thoughts flew to the classroom frozen in time. Caelum was sure now, he was getting stronger with every push.
The willpower the quill drained from him was no longer overwhelming. It still took its toll, but now, instead of collapsing instantly, he could last longer.
The quill was training him, whether he realized it or not. He sighed, shaking his head. "I should be grateful it isn't just straight-up killing me."
He dumped the rice into the pan, mixing it with the eggs and vegetables. The scent of soy sauce and spices filled the air as he stirred everything together, watching the rice darken to a rich, golden brown. 'Yea, mostly done.'
He grabbed a plate, scrapped the food onto it before setting it aside.
Then, guided by pure instinct, he opened the fridge again. His eyes landed on a single, glorious sight.
Beer! He grabbed a can, popped it open with a satisfying hiss, and poured it into a glass.
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Caelum carried his plate and beer to the table, sinking into his chair.
The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the old wooden floor.
He lifted his fork, scooping a bite of fried rice into his mouth. "It is… quite good."
The onions were not burnt, the eggs weren't overcooked. He took a sip of beer, 'Ah, Simple pleasures.'
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After devouring, caelum didn't waste any time, he picked up his plate and glass, making his way to the sink. The cold water rushed over his fingers as he scrubbed away the remnants of fried rice.
He had rested and had eaten to full, 'time to get back to work, but first..'
He wiped his hands on a towel before heading to the front door. He twisted the knob, making sure it was locked.
Next, the window. Pulling the curtain aside, he peered out. The street below was mostly empty, lit by streetlights. A few cars passed by in the distance. Everything seemed normal.
Satisfying his paranoia, he returned to his room.
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The classroom was captured perfectly in the painting, but unlike his previous creations, this one didn't manifest directly into existence.
The classroom painting didn't prung to life the moment he finished it. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably a good thing.
"If the whole classroom materialized inside my apartment, I would be looking for a new place to live."
Still, he already knew what he had to do next, Taking a deep breath, he reached out.
His fingertips brushed against the surface of the painting, and as soon as he made contact, he poured his willpower into it.
After being knocked out for so long, his energy had fully recovered. Now, it was time to get the fruit of his hardwork.
When Caelum's fingers pressed against the painting's surface. He didn't feel anything extraordinary, it was nothing more than dried ink on paper.
However, when he pushed his willpower into it, the texture changed, the ink started rippling skin to water.
A pulse traveled through his hand, his body went cold as the sensation deepened, spreading from his fingertips to his chest, his mind stretced like paper.
Then a strong pull grabed his consciousness. It felt like a force stronger than gravity yanked at him from all directions.
The world around him dissolved, a horrifying Darkness swallowed him whole.
---
'Where the hell is this?-Ugh.' caelum's mind felt like it was shattered, he struggled to process what he was seeing.
It was a tunnel, a long, endless, stretching tunnel into the void. He was moving, but not with his body. His consciousness was being dragged forward, sucked into the abyss.
Flashes of white light flickered along the edges of the tunnel, appearing and vanishing like dying stars.
After what felt like eternity, a white door of light formed ahead of him, it was spiraling vortex of white nothingness. The force behind it was overwhelming, dragging him forward with a grip that tightened the more and more.
He had no body here. Only the sheer, gut-wrenching sensation of being pulled apart and pieced back together.
Maybe time also lost it's meaning, Seconds? Minutes? Hours? How much time has it been?
Then with a crack, the void shattered like glass, fractures splintered through the darkness. Each break sent shards of existence scattering around him, revealing slivers of a world beyond.
And just as it began It ended.
The pulling sensation stopped and Caelum's weight returned, He felt solid again.
A faint scent of aged wood and chalk dust Hit his nose, his skin felt the lingering warmth of afternoon sunlight.
Cautiously, he opened his eyes. And found himself standing in the middle of a fimilar classroom.
---
"Ha. Hahah, this is.."
Caelum looked around, taking in the impossible reality before him.
'The classroom!' caelum couldn't control his excitement, the things where same as he remembered standing at the front of the room, covered in the white streaks of long-erased lessons.
'The windows.' caelum's eyes turned to source of the warm sunlight.
Golden sunlight poured through them, stretching across the floorboards in elongated patterns. The warmth touched his skin, carrying with it the scent of late afternoons spent waiting for the final bell to ring.
Everything was all there, exactly as he had drawn it. He hands clenched against the desk beneath him, feeling the wood pressing against his palms.
"This isn't just a painting anymore! Hahaha!" He was inside it, inside his old classroom.