The Unwritten

Episode 12 — The Creator

The reflection smiled.

Arin didn't.

For several seconds, neither moved.

Then the reflection raised its hand.

Arin's hand remained at his side.

Kian immediately stepped backward.

"Don't look at it."

Arin couldn't.

The reflection whispered:

"You wanted to know who created me."

Arin swallowed.

"Yes."

The reflection leaned closer to the glass.

"You did."

The room fell silent.

Arin shook his head.

"No."

The reflection smiled.

"Not the Arin standing there."

Its expression changed.

"The one who existed before him."

Mira slowly lowered her umbrella.

"Arian."

The reflection looked toward her.

"Not exactly."

Arin stepped closer.

"Then who?"

The reflection pointed toward the paper in Arin's hand.

"Read the date."

Arin looked down.

June 9, 2009.

His birthday.

"That's when I was born."

"No."

The reflection's voice became quieter.

"That's when you were made."

Arin's head began hurting.

A memory appeared.

A hospital.

His mother was sitting beside a bed.

His father stood near the window.

Elias was there.

Mira.

Kian.

And Arian.

But Arian wasn't a child.

He looked older.

Sixteen, perhaps.

He was standing beside a strange machine.

Arin watched from inside the memory.

His father was arguing with Elias.

"You promised this would work."

"It will."

"You don't know that."

"I've done it before."

"With whom?"

Elias didn't answer.

Arian stepped forward.

"With me."

Everyone became silent.

His father looked at him.

"You shouldn't be doing this."

Arian smiled.

"You said the same thing last time."

Mira stepped toward him.

"Then don't do it."

Arian looked at her.

"If I don't, he'll die."

"Maybe that's what is supposed to happen."

Arian shook his head.

"Then I'll change it."

The machine began humming.

Arin watched as Arian placed his hand against it.

The machine lit up.

A voice came from somewhere inside it.

"Identity fragment detected."

Arian closed his eyes.

"Separate it."

"Warning. Separation may result in permanent identity loss."

"I know."

"Proceed?"

Arian looked at the little boy lying on the bed.

Arin.

He smiled.

"Proceed."

The memory shattered.

Arin fell against the wall.

Kian caught him.

"Arin!"

Arin looked at him.

"I remember."

Mira's eyes widened.

"What?"

"The machine."

She went pale.

"You shouldn't have remembered that yet."

Arin looked toward the mirror.

"Who built it?"

Nobody answered.

Arin turned toward Elias.

But Elias wasn't there.

Only an empty doorway remained.

Kian stared at it.

"When did he leave?"

Mira shook her head.

"He didn't."

Arin looked at her.

"What?"

"He was never here."

Arin's stomach dropped.

"What do you mean?"

"The Elias you saw at the station..."

She hesitated.

"...wasn't Elias."

Kian stared at her.

"Then who was it?"

Mira looked toward the mirror.

"The Ledger."

The reflection began laughing.

Arin stepped toward it.

"So Elias never erased Kian?"

"No."

"Then why did he appear?"

The reflection answered:

"Because you needed someone to blame."

Arin's expression hardened.

"And the recordings?"

"Real."

"The notebook?"

"Real."

"Kian's memories?"

"Real."

"Then what was fake?"

The reflection smiled.

"Your understanding."

The mirror cracked.

A thin line appeared across Arin's reflection.

Then another.

Then another.

The glass shattered.

But instead of falling to the floor, the pieces remained suspended in the air.

Each fragment showed a different version of Arin.

A child.

A teenager.

An older version.

A frightened version.

A smiling version.

A version with unfamiliar eyes.

Kian stared.

"How many are there?"

Mira whispered:

"Too many."

One fragment floated toward Arin.

It showed Arian.

Another showed Arin.

Another showed the fourth boy.

Another showed someone completely different.

Arin reached toward one.

The fragment immediately dissolved.

A voice echoed through the room.

"Choose."

Arin looked around.

"Choose what?"

"Which one of you is real."

Kian shouted:

"Don't answer!"

But Arin had already understood.

The Ledger wasn't asking him to identify himself.

It was asking him to define himself.

Arin looked at the fragments.

He could choose the memories.

The identity.

The will.

The fear.

Or the person he had become.

He closed his eyes.

"I don't care."

The voice went silent.

Arin opened his eyes.

"I don't care which one came first."

The fragments stopped moving.

"I don't care whether I was created, reconstructed, replaced, or remembered."

Kian stared at him.

Arin continued.

"I'm Arin."

The mirror trembled.

"And that's enough."

One by one, the fragments began disappearing.

The last fragment remained.

Arian.

He smiled.

"Good."

Arin stared at him.

"You're not angry?"

"No."

Arian looked almost relieved.

"You finally made the choice yourself."

The final fragment shattered.

The lights returned.

The house became silent.

Mira looked at Arin.

"Do you know what you just did?"

Arin shook his head.

"No."

"You rejected the Ledger."

"And?"

Mira looked toward the window.

Outside, every streetlight had gone dark.

"The Ledger has never been rejected before."

Kian looked at Arin.

"Then what happens now?"

Mira didn't answer.

A sound came from upstairs.

A phone ringing.

Arin walked toward it.

It was an old phone.

One he had never seen before.

The screen displayed:

CALLER: ARIN

He answered.

For several seconds, there was only static.

Then a voice spoke.

His voice.

But older.

Calmer.

"Listen carefully."

Arin froze.

"If you're hearing this, the Ledger has failed."

"Who are you?"

A pause.

Then:

"I'm the reason you exist."

Arin's eyes widened.

The voice continued.

"And I'm about to tell you what happened on June 9, 2009."

The call abruptly ended.

The phone screen changed.

A new message appeared.

LOCATION: THE ORIGINAL ROOM

Then coordinates.

And beneath them:

COME ALONE.

Arin looked at Kian and Mira.

They were staring at him.

"You're not going alone," Kian said.

Arin smiled faintly.

"I wasn't planning to."

Mira picked up her umbrella.

"Then we have a problem."

"What?"

She pointed toward the window.

The entire street outside was filled with people.

Dozens of them.

All standing perfectly still.

All looking toward Arin's house.

And every single one of them spoke at exactly the same time.

"We remember you."