The Hope Collection

The Paintings(unedited)

After hours of searching we could only find a birth certificate of Nadia, our lost princess. There was nothing in the library that even showed a sign of what she had done throughout her life here at the Elven kingdom. We were all starting to lose hope till Rylin called out my name, or it could have been a medifore for something, I'm not sure which. Either way I picked my way to where he stood in the fables part of the library.

"I found a clue to where she might be," Rylin's eyes were glowing with excitement.

"You do realize you're in the farthest part of the fiction section as you could possibly be," I rolled my eyes.

"Nothing is fiction in these worlds, my dear," Rylin smiles and balances the book he's holding in the crook of his arm.

"Well, what do you think you have found this time, oh mighty wizard," I giggled like a schoolgirl.

"Look at this," Rylin pointed at a picture in the thick, leather-bound book resting in his arms.

The picture wasn't anything fancy, just an inked sketch in the middle of the page. The ink hadn't dried completely when the book was closed, there were black ink stains on the opposite page. Parts of the picture was dark with ink like it was just globbed onto the page while in other places the ink was lightly brushed on in a thin line. The picture wasn't a picture at all, it was a symbol, and it didn't look like it was there when the book was published and put into the library. This symbol was added after it was here, but who would create such a mark in the old book?

"Nadia was here," I breathed.

"How do you know?," Rylin asked, his head cocked to one side.

"Well, look at the way the picture was created. The symbols are directions to someplace, they aren't just random lines and swirls, it's a canvas of drawings meshed together," I mumbled looking over the page.

I placed my finger on the picture and the lines and swirls consumed my vision. In front of me was something like a painting, all still, no movement of any kind. invisible hands painted the picture in front of me. Not even the elves, the keepers of spells and magic, could create something like this picture spell. The painting in front of me showed a green forest, it looked to me to be the forest the Rylin and myself had crossed to get to the Elven city, no other forest was as green and bright.

The invisible hands painted a figure running through the forest, it was a girl with her light brown hair blowing behind her and a worn, brown cloak wrapped around herself. Her expression showed panic, fear, and determination. The shadow of wings connected a figure reflected off the ground behind her. She was running from someone, or something.

Suddenly the painting was washed away as if a bucket of water was dumped onto it. The invisible hands began their work again, but it was a different picture they painted this time. They painted a cliff with a shear drop-off. A boy with black as night feathery wings and a girl wearing a thin, white dress stood on top of the cliff. The girl was standing on the cliff's edge cornered by the boy with onyx wings. The boy wore a toothy grin and the girl's eyes shown with only sorrow. On the boy's back there was an evil-looking greatsword, like it was surrounded by some kind of dark magic.

I screamed when I saw the painting start to move. It's painted lines and colors changed shades and become reality. I stood only yards away from the cornered girl. I started to run across the blowing green grass, reaching out for the girl as she stepped backwards, and over the edge of the shear cliff. Tears stung my tears as I was pushed and tumbled off the edge of the cliff after the girl. Turning on my back and looking up I could see the black-winged boy staring down at us as we fell to our deaths. His expression scared me, he looked almost gleeful to watch us die.