The Transmigrated Author

[Paris, Rue Saint-Jacques, Street outside of Musée de Cluny]

The evening sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone streets as we emerged from the Musée de Cluny.

A comfortable silence settled between us, a rare occurrence in our usual interactions.

"That was..." Camila paused, seemingly searching for the right words.

"Unexpected," she finally said, her voice softer than usual. "I never knew that side of my mother."

"Neither did I," I admitted. "It seems we both learned something new today."

She nodded, pulling a strand of hair back.

"Just... don't tell anyone about this, okay?"

"My lips are sealed," I assured her, shrugging.

"And since we've visited all the places you wanted to see, could we go somewhere I'd like to check out?"

Camila hesitated for a moment, then shrugged.

"Fine. Lead the way... Rel."

"...!"

She... said my name.

That was unexpected, especially in this kind of context.

Did I even have the right to be called by name, being just a background character?

Shit... I knew getting close to these characters was already risky.

Now I need to be careful from here on out.

"The Louvre is a bit of a walk from here," I said, pulling out my phone.

"I'll call an Uber."

Camila nodded. "Good idea."

While we waited for the car, my mind flashed back to Yesterday.

I'd stashed some... supplies near the museum, the site of where the first demon attack will happen.

Normally, I'd stay out of Jan's way when the story is unfolding.

However, this time... I wasn't sure if he was strong enough to handle a demi-human alone.

Back in that dungeon, Jan and Louise made a decent team. But now, outside those walls, Jan's arsenal was limited. Light – that was the only element at his disposal.

The problem? He barely seemed to use it.

To live up to his "main character" status, he needed to at least grasp the basics, right? Unfortunately... that wasn't the case.

During the tournament, all I saw was a reliance on aura and small bursts of his Divine Conqueror skill.

I'd thought maybe he was saving the light for the final fight, but nothing.

I'd watched countless clips, analyzed every frame of every battle... not a single flicker of golden light.

Conclusion: either he knew how to use it but couldn't fully manifest it, or... he didn't even know he had it.

Sounds pretty stupid, right? The main character, clueless about his own power? Hoho, even authors make mistakes, I guess.

BZZZT!...BZZZZT!...

My watch buzzed with a notification from the Uber app.

"Hey, the Uber's here," Camila said, pointing towards the black sedan.

I quickly nodded and we both headed towards the Louvre Museum.

***

[Paris, The Louvre Museum]

"Ooohh... we're finally here!"

Jan stretched out his arms with a wide yawn as he stepped out of the limo.

Clank!

Valencia followed a vintage Polaroid camera clutched in her hand.

She'd purchased it yesterday, eager to capture the sights of Paris.

Lifting the camera to her eye, she adjusted the lens, framing a shot of the massive museum looming before them.

Click!

"Very pointy..."

She flapped the developing photo gently, her lips curving into a satisfied smile as the image emerged.

"Perfect."

But the next photo wouldn't be so easy.

As she zoomed in on the iconic glass pyramid, a face filled the viewfinder.

"...!"

"Another photo?" Jan's voice boomed in front of her, making her jump.

Her face contorted in a scowl, and she shoved him aside with a surprising amount of force.

"Ack!"

Jan stumbled, his faceplanting on the cobblestones a harsh counterpoint to the camera's click.

"Ugh, you idiot,"

Valencia grumbled, not even bothering to hide her annoyance.

She snapped another photo of the pyramid, this time without Jan's face obscuring the view.

"Now, can you please try not to ruin any more of my pictures?"

Jan picked himself up, rubbing his nose with a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, Val," he chuckled, dusting off his clothes.

"Just got a little excited, you know? I don't even know how those things work. I thought watches and laptops were the only things we needed for the academy."

Valencia sighed, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

"These are cameras, Jan," she explained, as if talking to a child.

"Wait—have you never seen one before?"

"Nope!" Jan replied, his eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

Valencia rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips despite her annoyance.

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head.

"Let's head in after I take one more photo."

Valencia lined up her final shot, carefully framing the Louvre's iconic glass pyramid through the viewfinder of her vintage Polaroid camera.

Jan, his usual boundless energy momentarily subdued, waited patiently beside her.

"Hey, Val," he began, his voice low and hesitant, "what do you think about Rel now?"

Valencia's hands twitched, causing the camera to shake. The resulting photo emerged blurry and distorted, a smudge of colors and shapes.

"Whoa," Jan chuckled, peering over her shoulder at the ruined image. "I've seen some bad photos, but that one takes the cake."

A faint flush crept onto Valencia's cheeks, but her expression remained carefully neutral.

"Just a slip of the hand," she muttered, quickly pocketing the photo.

"Let's head in."

Jan, however, didn't move.

He stood his ground, his gaze fixed on Valencia, a playful curiosity in his eyes.

"Come on, Val," he persisted. "I know you heard me."

Valencia abruptly stopped, her back still turned towards Jan.

"What is he to you?" she asked, her voice a low murmur.

"Are you two lovers by any chance?"

Jan's laughter echoed through the grand foyer.

"That's a good one, Val!" his hands were on his stomach while booming with amusement.

"But no, nothing like that. Rel's just... strange. Always seems to be in the right place at the right time, you know?"

Valencia turned her head slightly, watching Jan as he caught up to her.

The phrase "right place, right time" triggered a memory, an image from the dark hallway back at the academy.

A man in a dark hood stood far apart from her.

But the fear she felt couldn't be compared... and then, a sudden interruption.

A figure with black hair had appeared out of nowhere, blocking his path with her sword.

Valencia hadn't seen his face, but the memory of his intervention remained etched in her mind.

But the same scene from yesterday.

It felt the same.

The encounter with Alessandro, the way his presence had given her that fear she hid.

Rel had appeared, a calm amidst the storm.

She paused for a moment to think.

Could it be that Rel was the person who had saved her not once, but twice?

The pieces seemed to fit, but it didn't make sense.

Rel was an archer... not a swordsman.

It couldn't be him that night.

Her father had claimed to be her saviour, but she knew deep down that he was lying.

Valencia's gaze drifted up to Jan's face and for a moment.

She saw an overlapping image of the figure from her memories.

The mysterious saviour with the black hair.

"That's right... Jan's a swordsman," she thought.

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