While the Corrected Sun takes power in the Rainbow Kingdom, Sabre is facing his own crisis: powers he doesn't understand. With the help of a mysterious new friend, can he learn to harness and understand his abilities? More importantly: How will th...
When I woke up the next morning, I felt like a deflated balloon. I lay there in bed for a while, moping, before finally deciding to get up.
I swung my feet over to the side, only to yelp in shock as I felt icy cold water on the floor below. My eyes shot fully open, and I saw that the water covered the floor in a thin sheet, trickling down from the windowsill. Pushed around by the currents were tiny bits of broken glass.
Quickly, I pulled my feet back up to the bed. It took me a moment to maneuver myself closer to the window without touching the floor, but eventually I reached out and grabbed at the edge of my curtain, pulling it open with the soft whir of metal and fabric. The edge of the curtain caught briefly as it came across the brick on the floor, but pulled away to reveal a large hole in my window, framed by spiderwebs of broken glass. More pieces tinkled to the floor, falling from the wet curtain.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to hold back my reaction.
Just deal with it later.
Luckily, my shoes were still by the bedside, so it wasn't difficult to grab them and stuff my feet inside, protecting myself from any shards of the window. I got ready stubbornly, eyes forced up from the floor. Still, I couldn't help but shiver at the cold coming in from outside. My hand closed around the hilt of my sword. Not leaving that behind today.
I went downstairs, careful not to slip, only to see that it had retrieved similar treatment. The water was deeper here, having drained from upstairs as well. All the wood in the fireplace was soaked, leaving no way to warm up the house. Something white floated past my foot. Paper.
Apparently, the vandals had left me some letters.
Of course, because steves are stupid, they had left the letters on the soaking wet floor, leaving them nothing but a sopping mess of ink.
I stared at the room for a minute, then decided maybe I should skip breakfast. I wasn't that hungry, anyway.
Outside, the rain was as miserable as ever. I didn't see any steves, but clearly they had been outside recently. How else would the brightly-colored graffiti get there?
They had written it in glowing ink, just to make sure I saw it.
The rain pounded extra hard against my walls, creating a loud percussion as it beat against the words. Most of the paint had washed off already, but some of the messages were literally scratched into the walls, permanently etched into my house.
