"This," Thorne says, she swirls her fingers and from her fingertips sprouts a bloom. It twists and turns and a small plant grows from the air. "This, is lavender," she repeats and swings two fingers gently around the sides of the flower. I kneel in her garden, deeply infatuated with her beautiful magic. Her magical abilities are truly profound and beautiful. She contains the ability to create radiance, instead of destruction, like I.
The Team House builds around us, closing us between the brick of the house and the tall fence, overgrown with ivy. In the far left corner of the yard lies Thorne's garden. It has been here since I've joined the Team and has only expanded. Each morning, as I sit in my office filing paperwork, writing checks, organizing plans for the Recruitment Ball, I notice Thorne bent over in her garden. She sits there and tinkers with her magic, experimenting with all sorts of plants.
"What should I plant next?" she asks and rubs dirt on her apron. She's dressed pretty cutely when she gardens, her pink hair is tied up in braids. She wears an old flannel of Echo's, torn tights, and bright yellow rain boots.
"Lilies," I answer.
"That sounds nice," she agreed and reacts delightfully to my request. She creates a storm
of pure lilies, they grow and breathe like little babies in the new day sun.
"That's my sister's name," I tell her.
"That's a pretty name. It reminds me flowers. I like flowers," Thorne responds.
"I'm sure when you meet you'd be great friends,"
I promise her.
"I'm sure of it!" she reassures.
"Are you excited for the Recruitment Ball?" I ask her.
"Yeah, what does your dress look like?" she answers.
"My dress?" I question.
"Yes," she says and raises a brow, "The thing you wear to a ball?"
"Oh, I totally forgot to buy one," I groan and smack my hand to my forehead.
"It's tomorrow!" Thorne exclaims, then sighs deep, "It's okay, we can take a train to the Textile District and pick up a dress. We'll take Fawn and Maude, too."
"Okay, thank you. I've just been busy with everything and getting ready," I breath.
"It's fine, we'll go with you. We can make some time for you," Thorne replies happily.
"I think I came up with a Team name. You're the first person I'm telling, so be honest if it's stupid or not," I say, shy.
"Go for it. I'm sure it's fine," Thorne says, her words bring me comfort.
"I was thinking, because life is a storm, we're all stormy, and this Team is a storm. Like the people, but it's a good storm. It's the midday storm you'd watch in the summer on your porch. It's that kind of delight. So anyways, I was thinking," the speed of my words slows itself down, I take a gigantic breath. I hold it in my lungs for a second, then exhale, and drop the volume of my voice as well, "Rave Tempest."
Her lips curl into a smile, "I like it. Let's celebrate our new name, I'll make us breakfast."
"I'll make it!" I offer.
"No, please don't. I love you, but," Thorne rejects and doesn't complete her sentence. I end up laughing to myself the whole walk into the house. Thorne's unusual cheekiness has sparked a humorous valve in my brain, and causes much more excitement for me then usual. I'm proud of her development and believe it should be acknowledged. Six weeks ago, I met her in a thicket, crying. She didn't speak, and from what I could string together, she hated her brother. Hating a sibling is pretty ballsy, especially for someone with the nature of Thorne. I don't think she's forgiven him, yet, whether it be something cruel or unintentional. But, regardless, she's grown to care for him more and speak to him. Whenever she does utter few words to Echo, it's usually short and more matter-of-factly instead of nurturing words. He doesn't mind it, he becomes giddy, anyways.
