Chapter 4

Age of Solstice, 16:71

Tulasquss, Drazul's Plane

It has been two months since Drazul had begun taking care of the young girl. The girl was recovering smoothly, Drazul noticed. The girl was gaining more weight and seemingly began staying awake for much longer now. While taking on the role as the child's guardian, she tried to come up with remedies to aid the child's throat and help heal the scar across her left cheek. However, everything Drazul has attempted did not work. The girls voice was irreparably damaged and her scar has showed no signs of healing over. Her scar was oddly purple, though she did not know why. Although, everything about the child was bizarre.

The girl had silver white hair, a color that cannot be obtained so young. Drazul suspects it to be the result of something, but she could not figure out what. She gave the girl a black eye-patch to help her cover her right eye, if it made her comfortable. The girl kept it on along with her scarf; both articles became the one constant in her attire. However, among the many pieces of clothing Drazul proffered, the girl preferred the sweater much too big for her with stars embroidered across the front. As the girl grew stronger with each passing day, Drazul had to help the child slowly regain strength in her legs. She had the girl follow her around her home, having her do menial tasks such as light cleaning and tidying up some rooms in the home. She tried to keep the child occupied and on her feet since the child, if let alone, would spend her days in bed staring at nothing.

More importantly, Drazul still couldn't read the girls mind. It began to annoy her since the child cannot speak her mind and is unable to speak her own name. It was as if the girl had very strong walls up around her that denied Drazul despite her powerful abilities. The girl may be weaker in terms of power but this told Drazul that the girl was much stronger mentally. It's been a long time since Drazul met someone with strong mental power, a very long time. Meanwhile, she tried to come up with ways to speak with the child.

She tried to ask the child to write what was on her mind, to speak with her through exchanging letters. However, that came to an immediate halt since the child never learned to read nor write. Drazul was growing more and more annoyed with the lack of communication between them. How was she meant to get answers if the child could not speak to her at all? Then, suddenly, she realized there was a language for folk with speech impediments. She remembered a book she encountered on her travels, a book she purchased to study another time when she felt motivated to learn a new language, as she currently knows more languages than she could count on both hands.

Even so, she decided that she can no longer go on with leaving the girl nameless. She sauntered to the girls room with package in hand, finding the girl laying on the floor, looking out the window. Drazul watched her as she continued to lay there. Drazul knows she is in grief and has given her space to be able to express her sadness in private but she believes the girl needs to express herself in other ways. Carrying a small package with her, she walked over to the girl. The girl, startled, sat up abruptly, looking up at her. Drazul paused then spoke,

"Would you like to paint?"

The girl cocked her head to one side and shrugged. Drazul turned towards the easel standing in the corner beside them, completely covered in a white sheet. She waved her hand, the sheet flying off in unison. Underneath the sheet was a half finished painting of what seemed to look like Drazul. It was a portrait of her, her smile catching in a bright yellow setting amongst flowers. Drazul squinted, pained for a moment, before turning back to the girl,

"You may use this easel."

The girl stared, mesmerized by the beautiful portrait. The girl stood to observe the painting properly. She saw Drazul's bust surrounded in yellow flowers, wearing a yellow crown, laughing. The painting was unfinished, starting from the bottom right. The girl pointed at the painting then at Drazul inquisitively. Drazul shook her head,

"Twas not I who made this painting. Twas an old friend, many years ago. This was their last painting," Drazul paused, staring at the canvas before returning her gaze to the girl, "but they do not require this easel any longer. It is yours to use as you wish."

The girl looked at the painting then at Drazul, thinking that the woman in the painting is very different from the woman in front of her. Drazul shared the same thought, feeling as the painting is something she considered finished. In truth, she saw the painting as something that represented her over the centuries. Drazul sighed, feeling fatigued. She proffered the package in her hands to the child,

"This is everything you will need to paint. Empty canvases are piled beside the easel. If you ever require more, you need only ask."

The girl stared at the package and pushed it gently towards Drazul shaking her head. The girls expression was saddened, showing she had no motivation to do anything at all. Drazul moved the package towards her again,

"You do not need to be a genius to paint. This can be a form of release for you; it'll allow you to express how you feel. You only need to freely paint exactly how you feel without restrictions."

Drazul forced the package into the girls arms,

"If you attempt it, you may surprise yourself."

Drazul turned to leave, then remembered something,

"Child, I cannot know your name, though I am willing to gift you a new one."

The girl looked at her, unsure of how to react. Drazul closed her eyes, nodding,

"I will be your guardian from here on. So, I shall grace you with a new name, until I can hear your true name."

The child thought for a moment, before nodding, wondering what her new name will be. Drazul held her chin in thought, carefully going over her memories with the child. The girl was quiet, almost silent, as if she were a ghost. She thought of their meeting, of her lament, how she came to find her and came to a conclusion.

"Your name will be Whisper. You may adopt my second name if you so wish."

Whisper, newly named, stared at Drazul in disbelief. Surprised, the girl dropped the package, immediately reacting by panicking and scrambling to pick up the contents. Drazul raised a brow, curious. But no matter, she must move on and work. Drazul bid Whisper farewell, leaving her alone beside the easel. Whisper placed the package on the side table beside the easel, staring at the unfinished painting.

Whisper gently removed the painting, propping it up on her dresser, before placing a new canvas. Whisper stared at the blank canvas, remembering Drazul's words. She need only to paint how she feels, without restriction. Whisper turned towards the window, sunlight pouring in, shining on the dust in the air around her. She touched the window closest to her, emotions overwhelming her. She turned her attention back on the package, opening it and finding materials she had never seen before. She found brushes, big and small--and a palette, clean but stained in colors. There were vials of many colors, firmly sealed with corks, as she carefully laid out her materials she wanted on her side table.

Whisper never painted before and she doesn't know how to, but just by looking at what she had, she could guess how they were used. There was an empty jar, also stained with colors, among the materials. She took the jar and filled it with water in her personal washroom, guessing, perhaps, this is how she can keep using many colors. She returned to the easel, and grabbed the palette, leaving the jar beside her vials. She stared at the colors stained on the wooden palette in her hand, noticing that the paint had been mixed to obtain more colors.

Feeling confident, Whisper began to work, pausing occasionally before continuing between every few brush strokes.