Salvation of The Scum Fifth Prince

[21 - understanding; a queer companionship]

There was a reason Soren fancied the book and remembered it well, not counting for his strange memory for random facts.

The protagonist, Soren had decided, was an interesting character, and so were the many others that accompanied him.

For the person who felt few emotions, the feelings written on paper were interesting to him. 

When Raphael despaired over betrayal, cheered over new hope and felt burning anger during battles, Soren read it all. In reading about Raphael, the man felt like he could understand. Understand the feelings he couldn't feel.

But in face of the actual character, all Soren wanted to do was to stay away.

However, the prince, once immortal reaper, was not heartless. He just didn't intend to directly help Raphael, minding his own business for the majority of the time. What he didn't really expect was the depth of the protagonist's paranoia. 

How could he, when emotions were a thing so foreign?

Now, standing before the man and feeling the cold tip of the blade rest on his neck, he didn't flinch. Instead, he glanced down at the blade and then lifted his icy eyes to meet Raphael's, a strange, unnerving calm that the other couldn't perceive.

"I am," said Soren after a moment, watching the grip on the sword tighten. "Soren Rosenbaum, the fifth prince of this land."

Raphael wasn't amused, pressing the blade further until a trickle of crimson ran down the pale skin. "It's not the time to mess around, little prince."

"If not Soren, then who am I?"

"How could I—"

"Is there anybody else I could be?"

Soren was a little tired, speaking so much about such a bothersome thing.

It wasn't that it scared him to tell the complete truth, but it was something rather difficult to believe. It would only make Raphael more suspicious, weary of Soren's identity.

If one were to find out that their entire world was false, words scribbled on a paper by an author who didn't care, what would they say?

Well, Soren thought about that, but he said it anyway, seeing Raphael's unrelenting glare. Or at least, he said some of it. 

He stepped forward again, even closer, as the cool wind blew between them. The sword slid to the side of his neck, waiting dangerously in the air.

"I am Soren Rosenbaum. But, I'm also not."

Raphael's expression transformed. "You can't possibly mean--"

"I do." said Soren calmly, lifting his steely gaze.

If it was the protagonist, he would understand immediately. 

How could a person be somebody, but also not be that person? It wasn't a hard question, although many answers could be generated. 

In this case, what would be the most familiar to Raphael?

The most unbelievable truth of another world. Another soul in this other world, just like Raphael himself.

Only, this soul was trapped, inhabiting a body that had already pre-existed.

Raphael's hand trembled, but he didn't lower his sword. It had been a long, lonely time without knowing why he was forced to witness world after world collapse. Each world filled with different people, different societies, but meeting the same fate as he could only watch helplessly.

There was no person who could remain the same after all that time.

 Raphael was no exception.

'You're lying.' Raphael wanted to say, but he knew this prince was not, with his steady-fast expression and cool sky eyes. There were dozens of emotions that flashed through his face in a moment before it finally settled.