Marcel

Marcel Paxley, the elegant yet mysterious talent from Castle Aberleen. He himself is a masterfully composed double exposure: the first exposure captured the refined character of House Paxley—Marcel, the boy; the second exposure captured a torn soul, fragmented by dark magic—Clemar, his camera. Since then, they have gazed at the world through two viewfinders. One maintains an impeccable veneer of elegance; the other carefully documents reality. Together, they believe pain is the best chemical for development, while imperfection defines true depth of field. Yet a completed work is always stands as its own individual "self." '''Snap''' '''"Across the entire Moniyan art circle, if you ask whose name is most sought-after today, the answer is undoubtedly—Marcel! This darling of the art world boasts talent and a mysterious background! Our reporters dug deep and finally found the face behind the lens!"''' On the coffee shop counter, a black magic camera shuddered wildly, its lens focused on the newspaper below—the front page of Lumina City Entertainment Weekly. The truth, indeed, lies behind the lens. '''"The greatest photographer of this century, hailing from the illustrious House Paxley, possesses superb talent and enviable favor..."''' Marcel was born in the gloomy halls of the House Paxley estate. He inherited his father's potent dark magic, as well as his infamy—after a spate of family infighting, his father committed suicide to escape judgment, and Marcel was branded the "son of a traitor". The latter had stained Marcel's childhood, as his peers used violence to "discipline" him, to mold him into a person qualified of the Paxley name, yet Marcel always smiled gently and stood up straight. He believed he was worthy of the name, not because of the pain he endured, but because of the deep love guiding him through it—his mother. Marcel's mother was from a removed branch of the Paxley family, enshackled to House Paxley through marriage, but with a soul that yearned for freedom. His mother loved embroidery and photography, and on one of his birthdays, she gifted Marcel a camera, teaching him to frame and freeze moments, then take these stills and develop them into memories upon film. Mother was everything to Marcel, but she did not reciprocate. After receiving "discipline" that nearly killed him, Marcel came home covered in wounds, only to find his mother's departing silhouette. After his father's suicide, Marcel's mother had endured all manner of exclusion and pressure, finally securing a chance to flee House Paxley. However, the family forced her to leave her magically gifted son behind... In the end, she was the only one who escaped. Departures in House Paxley are always silent. Through tear-blurred eyes, Marcel watched her leave, and she never looked back. '''"...And his soul-capturing lens, comes from his gift of dark magic. Naturally, Marcel became Duke 's right-hand man. This is undoubtedly a perfect tale of 'hand and glove'!"''' After Marcel's mother left, the "discipline" intensified, but he no longer desired to resist, letting the torment and mockery berate him like falling rain. That is, until one near-death moment, consciousness fading, Marcel glanced at the camera hanging on the wall. His mother hadn't taken it. It had been watching him—watching his struggle, his madness, his pain beneath the surface— Marcel felt himself detach and enter its lens, looking on coldly as the little boy named Marcel Paxley stood up elegantly with a bloodied face. This objective perspective was clear and indifferent; all pain had been sealed off by the lens. When his consciousness returned to his body, his hand was already gripping the camera beside him! The camera shrieked, and dark magic poured out, freezing everything around him. Marcel's powers had fully awakened. Simultaneously, a soul named "Clemar" had been born inside the camera. Unlike the elegant Marcel, Clemar was direct and volatile, yet the two became inseparable. Relying on dark magic, Marcel became an aid to his distant cousin, , clearing a path to become head of Paxley. Those who bullied him in the past now dared not to look this terrifying "enforcer" in the eye, fearful of his camera. Alas, to be feared is better than to be loved. This is the Paxley way. '''"...Great art is often born of profound love. After his mother died, Marcel channeled his grief into creation. Behold, a true flourishing of talent! It is as if his camera possesses a mind..."''' In the years that followed, Marcel never felt that he had lost anything. Indeed, he felt neither pain nor anger. His emotions had long been sealed away within his camera, Clemar. That is, until the news of his mother's death arrived. He had learned the truth: after leaving House Paxley, his mother remarried, opened a tailor shop, and gave birth to a daughter named , before passing away from illness seven years ago. It was old news from years past, but fate hate kept it from him. Clemar roared in Marcel's ear—''"She had a new life! A new child! What am I?! What was all my suffering for?!"'' Marcel believed himself unmoved, yet the dark magic within him spiraled further out of control. Clemar was no longer content to reside within the camera, frequently attempting to seize Marcel's body. Marcel began to suffer memory loss and blackouts. He would wake up unpredictably on street corners near Castle Aberleen, surrounded by crowds frozen in time. Even was left helpless, until Marcel, having investigated every clue, turned the lends around and aimed it at himself! The moment the shutter clicked, Marcel entered the camera. Inside was chaotic and desolate, with floating film rollls sweeping through like tidal waves, inflicting endless pain. Walking past all his memories, a scarred figure stood alone, deep within the corridor— Marcel saw himself. It had been a means of escape, but also one of self-protection. Years ago, Marcel split his soul, naming the new entity "Clemar". Two sides of the same soul were isolated inside and outside the camera, experiencing their own pain and sorrow. Marcel stripped the pain from himself time and again, storing it inside the camera, Clemar. The pain did not vanish; it was merely borne by another, in solitude. At last, the camera snapped upon the tragic news, sparking chaos inside Castle Aberleen. Years ago, step by step, his mother faded into the distance, never looking back. Now, Marcel gazed at Clemar and walked towards him, step by step. He reached out and embraced the self that was "frozen" in the past. ...His reminiscing ended, and Marcel gently pushed the newspaper aside. After their episode inside the camera, Marcel and Clemar became reacquainted. Today, Clemar is no longer just Marcel's camera, but his witness, companion, and peer. He is his other half. ''"They don't understand our art at all!"'' Marcel patted Clemar: ''"It matters not. We know what 'we' are... and what art is."'' Snap— The shutter froze the moment: warm lights shining on the bleak stone streets of Castle Aberleen. This world has many flaws, but precisely because of them, it appears increadibly real. His mother chose freedom, even if it meant leaving him. He understood her limitations and learned to accept his half-sister, . They had their own lives, and how could the photographer who understood art best brood over life's incompleteness? Now, he stands with Clemar, Looking through the view finder, ready to step forward into their future.