The Solemness

Part 1

The first words my mother taught me to spell were the names of the colors of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. When I had progressed to sentences, she had me describe the undertones of each color and where I wanted to see that color in the world. Colors were critical to my mother.

"Why did you say that you want the grass to be as red as cherries?" She asked me, laughing, one spring morning as we sat underneath the twisted willow behind out manor home.

"Because then it would look delicious, like cherry ice cream syrup." I said.

"Mmm, and why would you make your hair red, too?" She said.

"So it will look like yours, Mama." I said, tugging at my dark, dark curls. I also had pale, almost see-through skin. Like my father. But my mother's skin was golden, and her hair looked like threads made from rubies and copper coins.

"Your eyes are like mine, Serenity, and that's the most important." She smoothed my brow and tipped my chin so my irises would catch the light.

At least that was true. Her eyes were a bright cobalt, and mine were periwinkle--- a color I had just learned to spell last week. They were only a shade or two apart.

"Now," She said, "red is a very passionate color, isn't it? But, what about blue?"

"Blue's calm," I said, "But it's sad."

"Yes, it can be both." My mother said. "All colors have a negative side and a positive side. Like how red can be angry, too. The trick is to mix the colors so they can help balance each other out, so none of them gets out of hand."

"You talk about colors like they're people, Mama," I told her.

"You'd be surprised at how much favorite colors can tell you about people," She said. "You know, a long time ago, your ancestors, the Kings and Queens of the Sapphire Isle, could see people's auras. It helped them govern the island. Now, the power's really rare."

"Auras?"

"The halo of light that shines from someone's soul," she said. "It shows you that person's heart."

"Yours would have all the colors, Mama. Because you like all of them so much."

I liked my lessons with my mother, even though they made me feel so different from her. But they had to stop when my mother got the fear sickness. Our butler Janus had taken me to the marketplace to pick out dessert for after dinner, and when we came back, my mother was shut in a room in the far right wing of the house, and I wasn't allowed to see her. When I asked my father, he tugged on the cuff of each of his white gloves and said,

"Don't worry, Serenity. I will get her well soon."

Then he placed a hand on my head like he was blessing me.

I knew my father loved my mother, and that he wanted her well and happy, but I couldn't stand it. I had to see her for myself to tell if she would get well or not. So I waited until everyone was asleep and then crept across the dark halls to my mother's sickroom. I put my ear against the door and heard crying.

"Mama?" I said, tugging the doorknob even though it was pointless. It only rattled and wouldn't turn. "Mama, are you really sick?"

The crying stopped, and a few moments later, I could hear my mother's voice breathing against the door frame.

"Don't forget about your colors, Renie." was all she said to me. "Do you understand how important they are?"

"But what about you? Can I help?" I said. "Papa said you were afraid of nothing, and it's making you sick."