Into the darkness she stared, feeling it stare back into her. It was a strange feeling, an odd force coming over the surroundings and it lay against her, pressed against her flesh. Like another skin she wore it, or it wore her and she was the vessel, the ship being sailed from an unknown place. Her fingers felt wet though the air was dry and each time they passed through the empty bowl they felt more saturated, more slick.
So she closed her eyes and touched the paper, letting the tips of her fingers guide her across it. What were only shapes in her mind were color on the paper in front of her, what had only been words was now descriptions of places being inked out in mountains, in trees, in buildings and the faces of people. She saw a ship in the distance coming toward the land and so she painted the ship. When it got closer and on another sheet of paper she painted the faces she saw on the deck of the ship.
The closer the ship got, the more violent the storm that rose around it. Until the sky was blackened and rain deluged all sight of the image, until it broke her mind or broke from her mind and was gone. She opened her eyes gasping for air and stared at the floor beneath her, water up to her ankles and dripping down from the ceiling of the room. Grabbing hold of the pedestal she stood there for a few more moments and closed her eyes, catching her breath.
When she opened them again, the water was gone and the pedestal was empty again. All that was left in the room was the paper she had painted, but no sigh of the invisible paint as she dipped her fingers into the bowl, and little of anything else. In the painting she recognized several people. Herself of course, first, dressed in blue armor, holding a shield and a sword. Then another figure that she did not understand and when she tried to think of the color it wore or the face upon it, her sight became at once a terrible blur and her head began to hurt, to ache with the pains of pins and needles being pushed into her temples.
She let go of the second figure and looked at the rest of the image. Then she rolled up both paintings and placed them into a satchel and left the room. Outside she closed the door and lifted what appeared to be an invisible key. It made a metallic sound as it slid into the lock and the lock turned. Once she removed the key, the door itself disappeared and left only a wall where it had stood.
Turning away from it, she collapsed back against the wall, the weight of her body heavy on her legs. She sighed, feeling the coolness of it against her bare arms and watched the darkness sift around inside of her mind. It was another place and if she held onto it for long enough she could see places far away. And though the wall behind her was rough against her soft skin, she stood there listening to the sound of the sky as it came down upon the wind and traveled through the hall, crossing over here and everything else.
So she closed her eyes and touched the paper, letting the tips of her fingers guide her across it. What were only shapes in her mind were color on the paper in front of her, what had only been words was now descriptions of places being inked out in mountains, in trees, in buildings and the faces of people. She saw a ship in the distance coming toward the land and so she painted the ship. When it got closer and on another sheet of paper she painted the faces she saw on the deck of the ship.
The closer the ship got, the more violent the storm that rose around it. Until the sky was blackened and rain deluged all sight of the image, until it broke her mind or broke from her mind and was gone. She opened her eyes gasping for air and stared at the floor beneath her, water up to her ankles and dripping down from the ceiling of the room. Grabbing hold of the pedestal she stood there for a few more moments and closed her eyes, catching her breath.
When she opened them again, the water was gone and the pedestal was empty again. All that was left in the room was the paper she had painted, but no sigh of the invisible paint as she dipped her fingers into the bowl, and little of anything else. In the painting she recognized several people. Herself of course, first, dressed in blue armor, holding a shield and a sword. Then another figure that she did not understand and when she tried to think of the color it wore or the face upon it, her sight became at once a terrible blur and her head began to hurt, to ache with the pains of pins and needles being pushed into her temples.
She let go of the second figure and looked at the rest of the image. Then she rolled up both paintings and placed them into a satchel and left the room. Outside she closed the door and lifted what appeared to be an invisible key. It made a metallic sound as it slid into the lock and the lock turned. Once she removed the key, the door itself disappeared and left only a wall where it had stood.
Turning away from it, she collapsed back against the wall, the weight of her body heavy on her legs. She sighed, feeling the coolness of it against her bare arms and watched the darkness sift around inside of her mind. It was another place and if she held onto it for long enough she could see places far away. And though the wall behind her was rough against her soft skin, she stood there listening to the sound of the sky as it came down upon the wind and traveled through the hall, crossing over here and everything else.