colors.

II

II

"That was the boy I was telling you about Ezra, he's positively magically is he not?"

The magpie on his shoulder tittered and clicked its beak before it responded; it's sharp claws gripping the shoulder of his double breasted jacket tighter as it decided on an appropriate response.

"It is true what you say, but you cannot be so sure yet. You have not seen his art in action." the bird tittered sagely.

"Yes I know, I know, but I can just feel it. This one is special." he said as he dodged a businessman in an incredibly immaculate suit. The streets of downtown Manchester were alive with people at this hour and many were headed in the direction of the train station. Many were on their way home at this hour, but not him. He was headed to the Manchester Art Gallery because his true job started now; his job as a teacher of the fine art lessons that were held at the gallery.

He dodged and weaved through the crowd with all the grace in the world and his friendly companion did not sway even when he moved most erratically. Nobody gave him a passing glance despite the bird perched on his shoulder, but that was mostly because no one could see it. Familiars were not easily spotted by the simple folk. Only those truly gifted with the great artist's eye could see the precariously perched magpie on the tall, blue-eyed man's shoulders.

"Llewellyn, you said that about the last boy." the bird stated, clicking its beak in frustration.

"Yes, but this time it is different." Llewellyn responded as he took the steps that led to the gallery two at a time, jarring Ezra slightly so she had to grip his shoulder tighter.

"You said that last time too." Ezra chirped.

"Oh hush up, if you are only here to bring me down you can leave."

Ezra fell silent as they entered the expansive, stone building. Llewellyn glided across the ornate floors, nodding to the secretary as he passed, as he made his way to a door situated in the left corner of the lobby; the door that led to the arts rooms. Once he was behind the doors of his art studio he would use for tonight's class did Ezra make her response.

"Do whatever you see fit to do then, but if we end up on the run again because you do something outlandishly stupid I reserve the right to smack you." the magpie harrumphed before it released Llewellyn's shoulder and fled to its perch on the top shelf of the paint cabinet.

"Oh pish posh, that will never happen again I promise." Llewellyn replied, waving a flat tipped brush in the petite bird's direction. He had shed his jacket and it sat on a peg by the cabinet Ezra had settled atop.

"You say that now." Ezra chanted in a sing song voice. Llewellyn snorted and chose to not grace the black and white bird with a proper response lest she think she could get the better of him. Instead he focused on laying out his painting supplies and adjusting the canvas' he had prepared for his future students. Tonight was an all women, wine, and paint evening and he was still not quite prepared to deal with tipsy women who wanted to his attention to be on anything but the canvas.

Llewellyn was aware he was of the handsome fare and because of this he found himself the object of many women's affections. There used to be a time where he would preen under the glow of women's adoration, but now the shine had worn off and he preferred if he did not have to deal with unwanted emotions. He knew his good looks did not hinder his likeableness though and they were probably one of the reasons his classes were usually chock full of the fairer sex. This did not really help him in his search for his Artist apprentice as he could only take on an apprentice of his gender; no matter if he found a female blessed with the Gift, there was no way he could claim her.

Frankly, he found the Laws very annoying in this sense because he had already found handfuls of women Artists, but of course he was not allowed to claim them. He was not sure why the Laws prohibited it. Something about some foolhardy love that had once sprung between a female master and a male apprentice. Something about the end to the world as the Artist's Guild would have known it. Something about a grisly war that ended in both parties deaths.

It was a vague memory to many to say the least. A story handed down from master to apprentice until it was so worn with time the holes were becoming all too visible; yet, the Law's still stood. The Council never wavering in their decision. And so here he was, still struggling to find an apprentice at the ripe age of one hundred and twenty three.

He had been Untethered for the twenty required years and it had taken him three long years of searching to come up with nothing. Many of his friends had found apprentices within the first two months of their searching, but here he was, the famous prodigy, struggling to find even one young, Awoken, male artist. He was becoming a little bit desperate; not used to this level of failure. He wondered how long he had before they started questioning his abilities.

"Here they come." Ezra stated, cutting through his thoughts. He lifted his head from the blue paint bottle he had been fiddling with to listen for the chatter of the female students he would be hosting and low and behold he could hear the clicking heels and the telltale sounds of feminine chatter. With a smirk on his lips, he rolled up his sleeves of his worn cable knit sweater, just like the ladies liked it, and rubbed his hands together in anticipation; it was showtime.

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Glossary:

Artist (capitalised): magicians who use art to create.

the Laws: the laws that govern the Artist's Guild

the Artist's Guild: the government that oversees the world of the Artist's

the Council: the equivalent to the Artist's Guild's parliament. 

the Gift: the ability to create and see what is created through Artist's magic.

Untethered: the twenty years an Artist spends without their master and without an apprentice; required by all apprentices who wish to be full fledged Artists.

Awoken: an human who has the Gift.