ARTBOUND - Chapter 2: A dream? Or, an outcome?

A Dream? Or An Outcome?

Months later

All of the children are in a vibrant colorful classroom full of life. Crayon is hunched over the table, face low, hands steady at work. He’s writing in his journal, many of the pages are already used.

Mariauna’s voice is drowning in the background as she writes on the whiteboard.

Dear Crystal,

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I had that dream again, about The Widow of Woe and that guy named Death. It’s become a reoccurring dream, every few weeks or months it shows up without fail.

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Like I told you, I’m not scared of the dream, it just feels different than any of my dreams. It feels real, familiar, almost like a lost memory that’s right on the top of your head; just out of reach. I’ve been to these places I know who these people are but I don’t know how or where I met them.

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So I saw the princess again, yes this time I went to see her myself.

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Crayon rushed into his dormitory shutting the door behind him, he’s alone. He drifted towards the closet, as if following a calling. He held out his magic crayon; determined. The star charm glows softly. He drew in the air, tracing the edges of the door with precision. The lines moved on their own, stretching up to hard to reach places.

The red faded into sparkles, fluttering like pixies.

A door stands before him, appearance unchanged. But, what lies beyond; some place enchanted.

With a twist of the nob, the door pulls open. A light shines in, something otherworldly, but inviting.

He stepped through, immediately stepping into a fantasy castle. Bright and welcoming. Every inch, from top to bottom, tailored; constructed, perfectly for a princess.

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Portrait, the princess of wonderland. She fell there a long time ago, so it seems. Everything just works together, and manages itself. She stays in her castle put away, but she never seems to be bothered by being alone.

She’s always painting pictures of me. In a way it’s… interesting, but in another, it’s creepy. From the day I met her it seems like she always knew me, but I don’t know a thing about her really. Funny, a lot like my dream right?

I hate to say it but, that’s why I left to see her. I was hoping that she could help. She acts like she knows everything, so… maybe she can shed some light on this one.

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Folding a paper, every bend neat; precise, at a desk encrusted with coral and jewels. There was Portrait, the princess. Her dark-brown and pink hair draped over her shoulder in neat braids. Her head was adorned with precious jewels and a crown. Her pale, rose gold stayed focused on the task at hand. From head to toe, she wore pink, pink silk and lace. Her face hidden behind a valentine masquerade, in the shape of a heart. Two hearts marked her cheeks, one on each cheek.

Carefully, she slipped the neat paper into an envelope. She stood, walked over to a majestic casing, and opened the glass door. She slipped the envelope in, beside other envelopes; similar.

It was so quiet, peaceful. Only the song of birds filled the undertones of the scene.

But, her voice cut through the silence with an enchanted echo.

Portrait: Angel…

Not a single side glance. Not a sound alarmed her. She just knew he was there.

She turned, and there he was.

Crayon stood in the clear of the room, he hadn’t spoken a word or made so much as a sound. His hands were tucked away in his pockets, he stared at her in silence.

When I first started to see her, it was only when I went to sleep. I used to think it was a dream too. But now, I’ve learned this is very different from a dream. This is another realm. A link to what she calls “The Heartbound”.

Portrait walked about her room, continuing business as usual. She’s just a little girl but always seems to be busy at work, wise beyond her years.

Portrait: So, you just wanted to stop by for a visit? (she smirked) Did you miss me?

Crayon: (he scoffed) Not a chance. I came to talk to you. It’s important.

Her eyes caught the light of the sun as she looked at him with a quiet intensity. Every time she’d stare at anyone, it’d be like a study.

She drew close to him and held out her hand.

Portrait: Come…

His eyes flickered from her hand to her face. He hesitated but conformed. He took her hand.

With a gentle tug she leads the way.

They both sat together on a porch swing in midair, laced off the edge of the castle, smothered in flowers and vine. It overlooked the great kingdom, the enchanted forest and the vast glistening sea. You could see anything from there.

They sat facing each other, the swing gently swayed from time to time.

Crayon: I wanted to talk to you about—

Portrait: Your dream.

Crayon: (he nodded) About—

Portrait: The Forgotten Kingdom, The Widow of Woe, and Death.

Crayon: Well (he folded his arms and leaned back) There’s no point in me talking if you know everything already.

Portrait: (she smiled) Go on…

Crayon: Why does it feel like I know them? Like we’ve met before?

Portrait: Because you do… and you have… You just don’t remember. (she scoffed) Like you don’t remember me.

Crayon: Hmph (his eyes shifted to the side as he gathered his thoughts) So, it is more than just a dream?

Portrait: It is… it’s more than a dream, but it isn’t the same as this.

Crayon: Then what is it?

Portrait: A vision.

Crayon: A… vision?

Portrait: A foresight… of your future.

Crayon: Oh… so you’re saying I’m going to get murdered by an angry widow and then death will take my soul at fifteen? Great, thanks. I knew it couldn’t have been more than that.

Portrait: I never said that… It’s more like an outcome.

Crayon: An outcome? Like it could be changed? That’s impossible. (He lifted one foot onto the swing and rested his arm on his knee). Fate is fate, there’s no way around it.

Portrait: If that’s so… then why does God bother sending us warnings and signs?

He sat silent, pondering on her words.

Crayon: Well… then how?

Portrait: Only you will know when that time comes.

Crayon: Tsch, you’re no help.

Portrait: Well, I did tell you months ago. It all ties to the darkness that threatens The Heartbound.

Crayon: This again… look, just like you enjoy being alone here—

Portrait: (she tilted her head) Who said I enjoyed it. (She smiled) I like it when you’re here.

Crayon: (His eyes shifted side to side as he fought feeling flustered) Well, I enjoy it. And I appreciate you wanting me to make friends but not interested. I’m a lone wolf.

Portrait: Well “Lone Wolf” you really don’t have a choice. You either play your part… or face what’s coming to you. But don’t come running here.

She turned away from him and flipped open a laced book beginning to paint inside with a pink paintbrush. His eyes narrowed for some reason bothered by her words. But as stubborn as ever; he just shrugged.

Crayon: Well, that’s too bad. We all have to die someday.

Portrait: (She refused to look at him) It’s about more than you Angel… Countless people stand to suffer, because of your inaction. Yet, you choose to be selfish, just like everyone who deserted you in your life.

He frowned; something flickered in his eye. Was it hurt or guilt? Or something else entirely? He spoke, voice low:

Crayon: I’m… not like them.

Silence.

Portrait: I know… (She looked at him, her gaze piercing but filled with grace) I just needed you to admit that to yourself first.

He frowned and looked away.

Crayon: I told you I don’t want to be a part of your mind games little girl.

Portrait: You will play your part, because deep down… you’re still there. Besides… You’ll be having a little help.

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She told me that the dream is more than a dream. A vision, a foresight… An outcome. Something she thinks can be changed. Is she right? Who knows. She also showed me something else. Six Art-Links that share my energy. Why? Because she stole it and gave it to them. Yeah, one thing for sure, this girl is nuts.

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The world around them shifted, fading into an open room. Surrounded by portraits, they stood. There were six of them; portraits of children, all unfamiliar.

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Crayon: (He frowned) What’s this?

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Portrait: It’s them, they will help you.

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Crayon: Hold on, if I’m going to do this. I can handle it alone. I don’t need a group of freaks to help me.

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Portrait: They will come of some great use. They’re different from you.

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Crayon: (he scoffed) Am I supposed to be offended?

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Portrait: No. They’re not Artkin, like you. Their powers aren’t like yours, not as special. They are Art-Links, their power comes in a different form. They have a sense of … immunity. A protection from the demons that threaten the Heartscapes, they can’t be corrupted by a fragmented Heartscape, because they don’t have one of their own. Unlike you.

Artlinks come and go, their power isn’t usually theirs to keep. It’s sourced from true Artkins like you, I allowed them to borrow a little color. In exchange they’ll help protect you, they’ll fight by your side… and maybe even be a guide to you.

I want you to see their faces so you can know them when they come to you. Although, no heartscape, it’s important you forge a bond with them. The stronger the bond, the better of a help they can be to you.

In order to meet her, you must first meet there. Then, you’ll move onto the others, the ones you’ve been neglecting because you're afraid of getting your heart involved, because you might actually make a friend. You need to awaken them, and soon.

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The world around them transitioned, they were back sitting on the swings like they were before.

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Crayon: Artkin, Artlinks, Heartscapes, Heartbound (each word mocked her, he smirked, arms folded) You sound stupid.

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Portrait: Angel (she placed her hand gently on his chest) You know the two to start with, they never linger too far…

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Crayon: Not a—

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Shove.

She pushed him off the swing. He’s falling hundreds feet through the air.

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She tried to kill me, ha. Anyways, she told me a lot of stuff… stuff she wants me to do. She claims if I don’t “awaken” the rest of the Artkin, aka; the weirdos here, it’ll affect a lot of people. We all will suffer someway, who knows maybe we’ll all get killed by the widow of woe and death, maybe that’s why the kingdom is forgotten. Ha.

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Flash.

A light shone so bright it consumed everything.

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And then, he flung hard to the dormitory floor, just as someone walked in. It was Twilight, the head of the center.

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Twilight: (He frowned) Are you okay?

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Impacted by the fall that rattled his bones, he looked rough up; on shoe off, messy hair, missing beanie.

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What happened here?

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Crayon: I’m fine… I was just… (he looked around and grabbed his beanie and slipped it on as he stood) Looking for something.

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Twilight: Looking for something? (he scanned the room looking for a reasonable explanation) You look like you got thrown by a giant… Did you fall off the bunk?

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Crayon: (He slipped on his shoe) Ha-ha-ha. You're not very funny, Twilight. (He shoved past him)

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Twilight: (He laughed) Well, maybe the giant won't throw you if next time you ask for a bathroom break, you're in the bathroom where you're supposed to be.

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Crayon: (he stopped looking at him with an unamused smirk) Give me a break.

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Twilight smiled and put his arm over his shoulder, guiding him.

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Twilight: I mean I could… but you might have to miss out on… (he shrugged) An art project or two, oh! And maybe a certain specific field trip I may have mentioned.

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Crayon: (peered up at him, his smile genuine that time) Alright, I guess I'll have to pass on the break, this time.

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They laughed in good cheer.

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I guess I'll find out if what she says is true. If these kids do actually show up one of these days.

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Mariana: Are you even listening to me?

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Crayon looks up at her, remembering he is still in class.

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Mariana: Put that away, come on. We got a lot to do.

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With a sigh he closes his journal putting it away. She gives his head a gentle pat.

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Mariana: Why don't you lead the Lord's prayer today?

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In a flood of confusion his eyes flutter.

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Crayon: Me?

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Clasped hands that shake gently; the only response she gave him. A signal to lead him.

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His face burns, like the class's eyes have lasers coming out of them. He knows they're all looking at him. He leans on the desk and raises his hands clasping them tightly.

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Gulp.

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Tsch. Miss Mari made me lead the morning prayer this time. It wasn't that bad. I don't know why at the moment it felt like more than it was. It felt like I was in a royal court room and any word said was going to get me sized and beheaded. Yeah, pretty dramatic, you could laugh if you want to.

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Eyes shut tight as he begins to pray, everyone joins in like a choir in harmony.

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Our Father,

Who art in Heaven

Hallowed by Thy name.

Your kingdom come,

Your will be done,

On Earth as it is in Heaven.

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One, Two, three, four, five, six. One by one, they came in; children, new to the center. Twilight stands behind them. Mariana, continuing to pray with the group, signals the children with her hands letting them know that it is alright to come in.

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The children come in, they begin finding seats. Twilight brings in extra chairs for those who don’t have one.

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Prayer; never faulting, never ceasing. It remains steady, new voices humming along. Crayon opens his eyes seeing familiar faces; the faces from the portraits, the ones she showed them. Surprise but acceptance; the only things he can feel.

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He leans his head on his hands, closing his eyes once more, finishing the prayer.

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Give us this our daily bread,

And forgive us our sins,

As we forgive those who sin against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

But deliver us from evil.

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AMEN.

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Opening his eyes, something flickers deep within them. Something has begun, the outcome, only God truly knows.