It's a new world, it's a new start
It's alive with the beating of young hearts
It's alive with the beating of young hearts
The smell of smoke and burning herbs fills my lungs the longer I stay here. It's not exactly a bad smell, but the smoke is just strong enough to set my mind back into that dark place. Where I remember seeing sparks and being terrified. It was the realization that I have inherited something that I never thought or wanted to inherit. It's something that feels like a burden or a curse. I don't want it, I don't want it, I don't --
I keep telling myself that I can't keep letting my mind wander like this. I can already feel my legs trembling and my feet feel warm. It might happen again if I don't keep my emotions in check. I need to stop thinking about it. Besides, this is the festival at one of my favorite places, so there's no time to be sad or scared.
So I'm at the paints, but not too far from Momma so she can keep an eye on me. Maybe I should feel like I can handle myself after wandering off the last time I was in Dellymean. I'm also a little older now and should feel like I can be more independent. Maybe I'll feel that way once I figure out this magic thing.
No, stop, stop thinking about it.
Painting, that's what I'm doing. There is someone who has just come over to another pile of supplies that seems familiar. It doesn't take me long to realize that it's Nicnevin, my friend who loved the night sky.
"Nic!" I call out to her, my eyes bright and maybe even glowing like the fires around us. I'm just happy to see another familiar face in the crowd. "Did you get my letter? Did you find the hair guy?" I ask, finding it hard to stick to just one question and wait for a response.
Then I realize maybe she's never done painting before? I remember all the lives she told me she's lived and how her homeland had been kind of secluded. It would make sense if she's never done this before.
"Have you painted before? I think we're supposed to paint each other, but whatever you feel like! I can show you," I say, picking up a paintbrush and dipping it into some red paint. I wait until she can respond before I put any color on either one of us. Really I'm just happy to see her and it feels like all my fears from before have disappeared.
I keep telling myself that I can't keep letting my mind wander like this. I can already feel my legs trembling and my feet feel warm. It might happen again if I don't keep my emotions in check. I need to stop thinking about it. Besides, this is the festival at one of my favorite places, so there's no time to be sad or scared.
So I'm at the paints, but not too far from Momma so she can keep an eye on me. Maybe I should feel like I can handle myself after wandering off the last time I was in Dellymean. I'm also a little older now and should feel like I can be more independent. Maybe I'll feel that way once I figure out this magic thing.
No, stop, stop thinking about it.
Painting, that's what I'm doing. There is someone who has just come over to another pile of supplies that seems familiar. It doesn't take me long to realize that it's Nicnevin, my friend who loved the night sky.
"Nic!" I call out to her, my eyes bright and maybe even glowing like the fires around us. I'm just happy to see another familiar face in the crowd. "Did you get my letter? Did you find the hair guy?" I ask, finding it hard to stick to just one question and wait for a response.
Then I realize maybe she's never done painting before? I remember all the lives she told me she's lived and how her homeland had been kind of secluded. It would make sense if she's never done this before.
"Have you painted before? I think we're supposed to paint each other, but whatever you feel like! I can show you," I say, picking up a paintbrush and dipping it into some red paint. I wait until she can respond before I put any color on either one of us. Really I'm just happy to see her and it feels like all my fears from before have disappeared.
