Blind Sights [Encanto OC FF]

7 | Warm Light

Art Drawn By Me! When she isn't using her gift, her world looks a bit like this.

Aletia honestly wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not. Usually, her world is an expanse of nothing. Her eyes, in a normal sense, aren't able to register normal values of light. It had been like that forever. But when she uses her power, she is able to see something no one else can.

All beings, through her eyes, are white outlines. This bright color depicts one's life, and how much of it they have. Naturally, it becomes dimmer as one becomes older. The brighter it is, the longer one's life expectancy.

Aletia calls Emil "Mi Luz" partially due to this fact. To her, no other is brighter. To her, no other is more precious. He, in every sense of the word, is her light.

Within this white glow were other colors that depicted intentions and thoughts. Emotions. No matter how much someone wished to hide these from her, she would always see them clearly. Some call it aura, some call it life energy. Her Abuela, Juliet, simply called it "the truth".

Pink was 'affection' in the lightest sense. When one is among people, places, or objects that one likes, this color is always present. The deeper their 'like', the darker it gets, until it becomes red.

Red is a passionate color; 'like' becomes 'love'. More often than not, this is the color seen amongst close family and friends. When one falls into romantic love with someone, red evolves into purple.

Purple is often an elusive and frustrating color. Discovering and maintaining this love is a complicated task. It completely depends on one's devotion to it. Her father was a prime example of devotion. There wasn't a doubt in her mother's mind that he loved her to the moon and back.

There were many other colors that Aletia could see within someone. They would appear in many sequences and depths which told her many things. She could sometimes tell what they were going to do before even they did, which was why they thought of her as a seer.

Those who'd been close with their family knew that this wasn't true, but there were many who didn't. It didn't help that when she used her power, unlike her grandmother, her eyes gave off a glow. Her family and their friends thought it pretty, but the ignorant many thought otherwise. They thought that she was casting a spell on them when her eyes lit up, especially when something bad happened.

The more she 'predicted', the more of an omen they saw her as. People avoided her, they were wary. Wariness became fear, fear grew into hate. and that hate had washed away the vibrant colors of her world and turned it into an abyss.

It was the first and only time learning about a new color had been something horrible.

It was the first time she ever recognized that inky, murky black.

The people who hurt them, chased them, and scorned them had flecks of this black scattered in their souls. It was a color that her grandmother warned her to always avoid, no matter what. It didn't matter how little of it she saw. Once she saw it, even a speck, her grandmother told her to run.

It was glaring, gritty, vile, evil.

'It was the color of a demon.'

The people who burned their homes and killed her family were purely this inky color. They stuck out against the empty confines of her sight; a color so dark that even a starless night was brighter. She came to call them El Vacío, things that were void of reason, of compassion, of a soul.