I can see my soul, too. I can see that my soul is bluish pale lavender, speckled with silver that glitters rainbow in the moonlight.
I can see that one day my soul will be scuffed and dulled, but I do not waste time worrying about that now. My colours say that even though my mind will be hazy with damp grey rain clouds and sparkling silver rain, I will be fine.
So I worry about Father and Mother and Darkstalker. I worry about Clearsight and Thoughtful and Fathom and Indigo. I worry about them, because I know I will be fine, even though I will have nightmares.
I know I can handle my fate.
I know I am stronger than everyone believes.
Like silk.
Soft and thin, but stronger than diamond.
I'm not so sure about Mother and Father. I can see how they'll disintegrate in the rain like thin paper, even though they'll die loving each other.
I'm not so sure about Darkstalker, who I know will be weathered and cracked. He's bulletproof glass. Invincible, but if you hit him just right, he shatters.
I'm not so sure about Clearsight. She's delicate like ivy. Easily shredded, if only you have the correct weaponry.
Thoughtful. He's like his blown glass. Beautiful and delicate.
Fathom. Constantly anxious, leaf in the wind.
Indigo. She's still a dragon, fierce warrior or not. You can slay her, with effort.
So I worry about them.
Because I don't know their hidden strengths like I know my own.
YOU ARE READING
synesthete
Fanfiction"'Definitely azure inside.[...] I like the way she knits.'" This is how Whiteout, as a dragonet with synesthesia, views the world, and, more importantly, the souls of her family and friends.
