I landed.
A wave of bright light and neon colors bash me in the face. This place is so chaotic.
I love it.
Still, something more finds my mind.
More spirits.
The courtyard is flooded with spirits. They mingle with the living.
Their colors are affecting the dragons around them.
Strong ones, like magenta, cerulean, and deep, rich purple with crisp forest green.
Nobody can see them.
Only me.
Because I was born with a purpose.
The shadow is relenting for now.
It can sense my protection.
It's scared.
But only a little.
These hallways are cold, black marble filled with towering stone columns.
These walls are embedded with hundreds of years of color, light, and sound.
Like a huge living library when nobody else is around.
The library grows, day by day.
Listening, growing and collecting.
Every day it has hundreds more stories to share.
The walls are just waiting to tell me all their stories.
Every step I take leads me to a person that used to come here.
Come to talk, laugh, cry, shout.
So much history.
So much color.
Over by those marble steps, I can feel that somebody once sat there, crying because they were being bullied by some older dragons.
The melancholy blue is tainted all over that corner.
What a sad dragon.
I've tried to make friends.
Nobody likes me.
They think I'm strange.
Listening to the walls, talking when nobody's there.
Brother thought I was too weak.
Just on the first day, he felt he had to stand up for me.
I've made so, so many enemies.
Whenever another dragon sees me they boil with a fluid burning rage.
I'm surrounded by scarlet bursts of red.
Now I'm surrounded by rage everywhere I go.
Brother has made enemies too.
There is blood in the water, even though we just got in.
YOU ARE READING
Whiteout
Spiritual(cover art not mine) What is whiteout thinking? How does she really see the world? Emotions never let go, never. The moment they touch you, you'll have them forever. Even death can't seperate you and your emotions. And... That's why whiteout fears...
