Rafayel's has been all alone waiting for Enoria to comeback to him after her bride decided to sacrifice herself to save his dominion, the dried and dead seas.
This story reflects Rafayel waiting, his growth from a cold and stormy god of the seas unt...
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Since Rafayel brought the painting he stole from the Royal Vault to her room and gifted it to her, she asked every morning for canvasses to be brought into her room and they painted together as an indoor date.
His painting, of a starry night Phitia, hung on her wall, just above her bed, forever adorning her room. When the maids asked, she just replied that she painted it, but they never believed it, as Enoria didn't have the talent used to create such a beautiful piece of art; it had the soul of the painter, his sorrow and nostalgia that he felt tied to the landscape. When people looked at it, they could even hear the sound of the waves, the faraway sounds of the port, and the silent cry of a child, hidden in a tower.
Like this, their mornings, felt like a brush full of paint sliding through a canvasses.
The sun peeked through the window, casting a warm glow on the easels set up in Enoria's cozy room. Rafayel sat across from her, their brushes poised over blank canvases.
'What should we paint?' Enoria asked, her eyes bright with anticipation. Her fingers dipped into the palette, mixing colors.
Rafayel chuckled, dipping his brush into the azure blue. 'How about our favorite memories?' he suggested. 'The first time we met, the way you blushed when I complimented your smile...' His words flowed like strokes on canvas, creating an invisible masterpiece. 'Even strawberries'
Enoria's laughter filled the room, a melody that blended with the soft hum of the morning.
Like this, Rafayel entered the artist's mood, a mindset where he forgot everything except what he wanted to paint, a brush, his low-quality paints, and the image that he wanted to bring back to life.
The room was filled with the scent of acrylics and saltwater —a blend of art and the sea. The only sound was Rafayel brush and Enoria's hums from time to time, her forever questions and Rafayel's silence.
After forevermore, Rafayel's brush moved with purpose, each stroke capturing the ebb and flow of the waves beyond the window. Enoria watched him, her gaze torn between the canvas and the man who seemed lost in his creation. Her canvas forgetten, just a small dot of red, where her brush stopped, too distracted in Rafayel's creation.
'The sea...' Rafayel murmured, his voice a soft caress. 'It's like a living thing, isn't it? Always changing, always restless.' His eyes never left the canvas, but she sensed the depth of his words.
His love for the sea, and his duty to his land showed in the brushing. It was a mix of blue water, sun reflections, small fishes, and an island, where a lonely destroyed manor awaited lost in the sea.
Enoria, who ended up standing up from her seat and approached Rafayel, leaned against the windowsill, her fingers tracing the wooden frame. After a while of Rafayel's being lost in his inspiration, as the waves crashed against the shore, Enoria wanted to reach out, to touch him, to pull him away from the canvas and back to her.
