[P] magnum opus

[Elliot]

like a conqueror,
it's good to be king

Golden hour light is filtering through my studio windows as I stare at the half-carved limestone block—at the half-baked, half-formed thought—that is supposed to be the centerpiece for the Lunel family’s courtyard. The more I look at it, the more I hate it. The more I look at it, the more its raw curves and unfinished details stand out.

I hate it.

I hate it because it is not him.

Nothing my hands ever carve again will be like him, and that is perhaps the worst realization I could possibly have. Nothing will have his eyes, his softness, that perfect curl to his lips.

The more I look at this incomplete, inferior hunk of stone before me, the angier I become. Until I am red inside, until I am burning. I pick up the mallet laying upon my tools cart and swing. And swing, and swing. Each ring of wood against stone sounds like release. It sounds like his name, over and over and over again. Santi, Santi, Santi.

When I finally stop, there is nothing left but a mangled half-statue, edges broken and jagged, sticking out of the block. Light filters through the dust lingering in the air. Pieces of limestone are scattered over the floor of my studio. I grit my teeth.

“Is everything alright in here, Sir?” I turn toward the door to find Arvid standing there, one of the Academy’s custodians and assistants. The hard look in my eyes turns to something more companionable, something more easy. “Everything is fine, Arvid. Just an accident is all,” I say smoothly, locking my bright blue gaze with his earthen one.

“I’m going out for some fresh air and inspiration. You’ll clean this for me, won’t you?” the corner of my lips curl up in a smile, as I brush close to him. He nods obediently and steps further into the studio, already beginning to pile pieces of broken rock off to the side. “Oh, and Arvid?”

He turns toward me, attentive. If only my students were as willing to listen to what I have to say to them. My eyes narrow slightly, “... You’ll tell no one.” I press down the halls of the Academy and out the front doors, into the bright gold evening light.

It takes only a short time to find myself within the city, where I am easily recognized on the street. If not by the school’s benefactors then by student’s families or aspiring artists hoping to one day join. But I know all of them. What I am looking for is someone, anyone, who I do not know.

♔ | @Nicnevin