The Truth Over The Wall

Chapter 24

   *A picture speaks a thousand words. And your words will change the world in a thousand ways. :)*

The early morning sun slid down the bright green branches and pooled onto the forest floor. The ground was waking up in response to its warm touch.

The dust motes and insects purposefully flew in and around the sunlight, absorbing a piece of liquid sun shine and lighting up a tell tale gold in that instance the sun touched them and energized them.

Wild flowers in respectable shades of pale blue, yellow and pink shook their heads in the slight breeze – disapprovingly - at the bright red poppies that sprang up cheerful and ready.

Amara trailed her hand over the flower heads and felt their warmth catch on her skin for just a second. Her fingers would stop wonderingly when they would come across a flower or plant that was cold.

She would lean her face down to it with a smile while she related a secret, "We're the same."

Fobos ran ahead of her and pointed herbs out. By the time Amara would settle by a bush or a flower to collect a specimen, Fobos would run off to the next.

Alistair took his time following them; giving Amara her space. Once or twice he had caught her holding up her hands in prayer while she squeezed her eyes shut and gave thanks.

"Thank you," Amara lightly rested her fingers on a tree before she moved away from it.

He turned his own face into the sun and let it soak into his skin. He felt it dissolve into his blood and move along his veins, lighting him up from the inside with the captured magic.

He opened his eyes and looked down to see Amara beaming at him as she asked, "Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Is that why you insist on walking in the woods by yourself?" he asked her, curious. "To feel the magic?"

Amara shrugged as she bunched some roots together. "Sure."

She opened her mouth and paused for a second, thinking it over, and then said, "I miss not having to hide. I come talk to the trees when I want to remember what home feels like."

"Hide?" Alistair said in a casual voice while he avoided her gaze and pretended to admire a deep blue flower.

Amara nodded at him. She blew on her hand and a warm breeze filled the air. It shook the tree branches and caused embers to flare up in the sunlight as it moved through.

Alistair saw her face light with the same marvel it had when she had made her own snow fall. She followed the reddish embers with her eyes and her smile faded as they disappeared.

"Hide," She said placing her basket on the ground beside a large, bumpy rock. She sat down on the same rock and told him, "Hide my powers, hide the fact that I have powers; that I'm a witch.

"At home," Amara blinked reminiscent and sad, "I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted and there was no one to take offense.

"Quite the contrary," Amara said excitedly, leaning forward and placing her elbows on her knees, "My mother loved it when I turned the streams purple and my father cheered me on - and even dared me - to steal Ash's pies without even leaving the room."

Amara got a dreamy look in her eyes as she explained, "And sometimes," she said, "I would pull the snowflakes from the wind..."

Amara moved her fingers over the air and created a small whirlwind of snow in her palm. Gazing into it she said, "And my mother would still it."