Inheritance

Part 2. Chapter 48: Painted Reality

With a brush in hand, Eory smeared a pristine, crystal blue color on the iron floor. His large ears danced at the familiar sound of the bristles on the iron floor. It sounded like...

It sounds like the leaves of trees rustling in an autumn wind. This color... It delights my senses—it's even more beautiful than a real sky. This smell is so familiar and intoxicating...

Eory slammed his palm into the paint with a grin and smeared it around in a circle. Suddenly, he was child again.

He felt a guiding hand on his shoulder. Doesn't it make you feel at peace?

"Kori?" Eory's eyes lit up as he looked over his shoulder.

But it was only Maruka.

"W-who is Kori?" Maruka asked.

Eory, who had been on all-fours, sat up with his shoulders slumped. "She was my caretaker... The one who I told you about who was rehabilitating me in my prison."

Eory listlessly dragged a blue finger across the floor in a straight line. "Maruka...?"

"Y-yes?" Maruka replied.

"Why is this fake sky so much prettier than the real one? I spent twelve of my eighteen years yearning to see the real sky again and it ended up being ugly." Eory frowned, looking at the blue paint on his palm.

"F-fantasy is always prettier than reality. Y-you can paint reality however you w-want using fantasy." Maruka didn't remove his hand from his shoulder as he said it.

"I suppose you're right. Maybe we should try harder to make our fantasies a reality."

"M-maybe w-we should." Maruka gave him an encouraging smile.

Maruka lowered himself onto his knees next to Eory. "What are you planning on painting?"

"Well," Eory answered as he continued dragging the brush across the black floor. "How familiar are you with the fairy religion?"

"N-not very..." Maruka replied, leaning a cheek on the palm of his hand.

Eory grinned and poked Maruka's nose with a shaking finger. "You'll find out what we're painting, then. Grab a brush and help me out!"

Maruka grabbed Eory's wrist and examined his shaking fingers. "What's w-with the shaking hands?"

Eory was beet red with embarrassment. "I don't know. I can't help it."

Maruka chuckled a little. "There must be butterflies in your fingers."

"I wish..." Eory replied wistfully as he returned to painting. "I think it's just fear that is deeply embedded in my fingers."

Maruka shook his head with a warm smile. "No. It's butterflies. I'm sure."

He left the room for a time, then, and eventually came back with a paintbrush of his own.

"This whole floor is going to be blue," Eory shouted to the selkie from the other end of the room. "So get to painting!"

"y-yes sir!" Maruka grinned.

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Maruka was beginning to realize what it was that his new fairy friend loved about art and painting.

There was something indescribably spiritual and soothing about it.

He was a prisoner through-and-through.

He never had a chance to express himself freely—even his thoughts were not his own much of the time—but he could feel his soul pouring out through the paint on the floor. He always thought he didn't have much of an imagination, but suddenly, the blue floor was beginning to look like the sea to him. He could hear the barking of seals, he could feel his fins waving through the comforting, warm water which felt like a loving blanket. I'll go back one day.