Chapter 4 (Continued)

Age of Solstice, 16:71

Tulasquss, Drazul's Plane

Meanwhile, Drazul had moved toward the library. She kept a large library within her home as she required a personal space to hold knowledge she deemed worth keeping over the centuries. Her home, although small on the outside, was ridiculously large on the inside. This was thanks to Drazul's manipulation over space. Her home had the interior of a small estate in some places, but appearing quite large in others. Whisper's room was that of a large one, as the ceiling was tall and the room quite spacious.

This also applied to the library. Just like Whisper's room, opposite of the entryway were tall, narrow windows that were completely stained glass, depicting a garden of flowers--a sun being in the center window. Along the walls were stone carvings of trees and roots serving as shelving for her books. There were more shelves standing throughout the room, also carved to mimic trees. All of the stone trees touched the high ceiling, their leaves and branches overlapping, towering beautifully above her as she sauntered between them. The floor was also stone, covered in paw prints randomly throughout.

The sunlight coming through showered the room in twinkling colors of lush green, pink and yellow. The dust in the air was shining in the sun rays as she searched the library for her desired book. Eventually after some time, she found the book she was searching for. The book was titled, Oral Education: The Study of Visual Language. She took the book out and with her to her study, outside the library. Her study was her private space, containing all of her personal belongings she's kept over the years.

Her study was cozy, clutter lining the room in nooks between all the spaces between. The room had a single, large, rose window, on the left wall of the room. It had intricate floral grilles that trailed randomly across the glass pane, centered around a crescent moon. The windows stool was a dark wood, it's apron long, touching the floor. It was Drazul's favorite window that was made for her. Above the window, towards the ceiling, stood two stone trees that framed the window, its leaves hanging above and stretching across the ceiling, to the center of the room where her desk sat. It was a bureau à gradin crossed with a roll-top. It had many compartments, some even secret; it was her spot to do many of her personal work. Lining the walls was beautiful artwork, shelves and hutches that matched the vintage of her desk. There was seating scattered throughout, an armchair by the window looking out and a sofa in the corner betwixt shelving under artwork.

Twas really the perfect study for one such as her.

She took her seat at her bureau, spending the next few months learning the visual languages of the Mire. Using a mirror, she imitated the visual hand signs for letters and words as well as being sure to speak as she does so. It was hard at first, like any language, but finally, she felt confident enough to teach Whisper the Mire's visual language.

While Drazul was learning a new language, Whisper was learning how to paint. She found herself feeling lighter as the days, weeks and few months have passed. With each new canvas, she was able to let loose. Twas as if the easel was a friend--a dear listener in her time of grief. She endured much up until this point and didn't know how to process it all. Having lost her mother and finding herself adopted by a strange woman, has left her feeling uneasy. Uneasy in the sense she felt she had no footing in being here with Drazul. As far as Whisper knows, she's just a kid she found in the slums. What would Drazul want with someone like her?

Whisper felt she didn't belong with Drazul, she felt particularly out of place. However, she wasn't blind to Drazul's efforts. Drazul has taken great care of her while she's been here, letting her eat foods she's never had before and letting her wear nice clothes. Whisper never had her own room and bed before either. She was overwhelmed at first, being given everything she never had. She can't help but feel like she doesn't deserve these things. Though, she found out pretty quickly to never refuse Drazul. If she tried to refuse anything at all, Drazul would merely say,

"That's quite enough. You must remember that you do not have to struggle any longer, for I am here."

Whisper didn't know how to react. She didn't realize until she met Drazul that she was deserving of these things.  

That she deserved to live.

Whisper, with this newfound warmth that swelled in her chest, has slowly grown brighter. It also reflected in her artwork. At the start of her creative journey, her paintings were dark, depicting her pain and grief in dark colors and odd shapes that only she could recognize as herself, alone.

But now she was learning she was no longer alone. Her artwork began to slowly get brighter, better. She painted light slicing through darkness in many of her paintings, which slowly began to become beautiful scenery in brighter settings. Her paintings, all the way until now, are a representation of her journey of healing. Pain will forever linger, but time has become a balm for her heart. Slowly, she was feeling better.

The following afternoon, Drazul asked Whisper to join her for tea and nibble in the sitting room. Whisper obliged, following her down the stairs. She sat on the sofa while Drazul took her place by the fire in her armchair. Whisper took this time to observe Drazul. It was not until now that she noticed just how beautiful Drazul was. She had raven hair just below her shoulders, which she tied half-up occasionally. Her skin was like honey, and her eyes were not the same. Her right eye was crimson while the other was blue. Whisper found her very alluring for a lady. Whisper especially thought her tattoos were wicked.

Drazul summoned their tea and biscuits to the room with a flick of her wrist, the plates and cups floating into the sitting room only a few seconds afterward. Whisper was stunned. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. As their tea and nibble carefully landed on the low table, Drazul leaned forward and took her tea. She leaned into her chair, sighing after taking a sip. She glanced at Whisper only to find her completely stunned. Whisper's mouth was agape in disbelief. Drazul then realized she had completely forgotten to inform the child that she was a witch.

Drazul sighed,

"I have forgotten to inform you that I, Drazul Trisca, am a witch."

Whisper squinted, her brows furrowed, contemplating if this strange woman was telling the truth. Drazul shrugged with a wave of her hand, making a portion of snacks rise into the air and towards Whisper's hands at her lap. Whisper gulped, unsure of how to react or feel. She had never seen magic before, as magic was something seen as a luxury of royalty.

"Now that you are aware, you may want to get accustomed to witnessing strange things. However, this is not what I called you here for today," Drazul paused to take another sip of her tea, "I have finally finished my work. I will now be able to teach you how to read, write and most importantly, converse."

Whisper's face shot up from her lap, surprised. Drazul nodded,

"While you've been focused on your painting, I have been focused on learning a new language for those like you, who have trouble speaking. With this, you'll be able to communicate."

Whisper put down her tea and stood up abruptly, kneeling down before Drazul. She took her hand, squeezing it with the biggest grin on her face. She was overcome with excitement. Finally, she'll be able to talk with Drazul. The communication barrier was suffocating. With this, she'll be able to keep conversation and tell Drazul everything she's been meaning to. A small smile creeped onto Drazuls face,

"Yes, but first, I must teach you how to read and write so that you can understand this language I will pass onto you."

Whisper nodded, suddenly feeling energetic. She stood up quickly and began pointing up the stairs. Drazul figured she wanted to start immediately. Drazul shook her head,

"Patience. Let's finish our crumbs first."

Whisper obeyed, and together, they enjoyed their time in silence. Whisper returned to her seat on the sofa, her legs happily swinging as she indulged herself.