Cynthia and the Brush of Eternal Paint

Biting her lip, Cynthia drew in an uneasy breath. This was the day, she could feel it.

She moved one of her pigtails from in front of her face, bumping the nearby railing. The Painter’s Summit seemed unusually tall today. Usually a refuge from the outside world, today it was her opponent.

Far below the glint of the multicolored water mocked her, it’s size almost shrinking among the cotton candy clouds.

Still holding her breath, her heart raced out of her chest, the roar of the falls below a mere whisper in comparison.

Thump.

Thump.

Grandma Andromeda had always told her to not be afraid to make mistakes. They have a way of moving a piece forward, a new line getting revealed that you didn’t know was there. Good advice. At least usually.

So she jumped. Almost in slow motion, the wind grabbed her. Pink mist whizzed by her as the glittering paint came closer and closer.

Every second of the fall seemed to take an eternity. Closing her eyes she let the rushing air carry her, holding her hat tightly against her thick pink hair.

Sure it was secured, she moved her arms next to her body and picked up speed.

A few seconds passed, but her eyes stayed tightly closed. Her heart felt like it was going to burst.

Thump thump.

Thump thump.

“Courage,” she thought. “I need to pass this time. Grandpa is watching.”

Yes. Oberon the Spellmaster was her grandfather. Once Cynthia’s best friend, the past year had turned him into a different person, a stickler for perfection, unreasonable. Worst of all, he wasn’t fun any more. This time was different though, even HE would be impressed.

Sensing the appropriate moment, she opened her eyes, inches from the surface of the lake. With a snap of her wrist she summoned her brush, angling the momentum just enough to avoid an impact and barely skimming the water with the soles of her shoes.

Her brush steadily leveled with the lake, throwing a brilliant trail of paint behind her, sending ripples across the surface.

Easing into her new found stability, she confidently scanned the shoreline, looking for signs of Oberon and quickly found him. You could hardly miss his scholarly blue robes and well brushed beard. Thinking to wave...oops.

Her grip slipped on the paint spattered handle the brush lurching hard. With a violent splash, she skipped across the surface like a stone sailing off of the water and straight into a sandcastle, Deer and Bear getting out of the way just in time. A second later her brush pierced the sand like a comically large flag, spraying her with a puff of colorful dust.

They gathered around Cynthia her head buried in a pile of sand.

“Are you alright darling?” Deer coughing through the dust, first to speak up.

“Speak to us lass! How many fingers do you see?” Bear added, clearing the looming dust cloud with his wide arms.

Cynthia was OK alright, but boy was she upset. Knocking the chromatic dust off of herself she gave a heavy sigh.

“Yeah...I almost had it!” Her arms crossed now, giving a cute little pout.

Retrieving her brush, she glanced across the lake. Just as she thought, her grandfather was shaking his head and her grandmother was waving her arms in his general direction, speaking about how she would get it next time probably.

Cynthia sighed again.

“I’m OK,” finally turning to Deer and Bear.

“Oh thank the stars!” Deer shouted grabbing her in her arms.

Bear placed his paw gently on Cynthia’s shoulder with a reassuring glance.

“Don’t worry lass. You will get it next time.”

Sitting in front of her bedroom mirror, Cynthia brushed her thick pink hair, now undone.

“I can’t believe how close I was and in front of grandpa too…”, yelling at her reflection. It just helped to yell sometimes.

Getting up she face-planted on her bed with a loud thump and screamed into her rainbow clad pillow until she was out of breath. Satisfied she rolled on her back and breathed in deeply. Staring at her sky blue ceiling, she followed the curves of the painted white clouds. She remembered doing those herself…it couldn’t have been more than a year, but man it felt like an eternity!

“Grandpa used to be so much fun, but ever since I turned 10 he has been an absolute nightmare. I just want to play and he wants me use that stupid brush.”

Rolling to her side, she let her eyes hover over the empty canvas next to her bed.

“My canvas…I think I want to take a trip…?”

Sitting up in her bed and grabbing her bare feet, she took a quick glance around the room.

“Where is my paintbrush…? Oh there it is!”

Sticking out from under her plushy covered vanity, Cynthia spied her favorite paintbrush.

“Grandpa and grandma gave me that for my birthday last year…I should take better care of it. I have just been so busy of late.”

Hopping to her feet she stumbled over to grab her brush just tapping her head on a barely open drawer. Grabbing her head she winced.

“Ow.” she said, closing the untidy drawer. She was such a klutz sometimes.

Taking a breath she turned to face the empty canvas. She could go anywhere, be anything. All she had to to do was paint it. Grinning to herself she reached for her green paint.

“Time to go on a trip into the woods.”

Cynthia stood back and admired her work.

Yeap, just like she remembered it. Mountain in the background, sloping hills in front of that and a cliff just peaking out with tall trees in the foreground. A picnic blanket with a basket of goodies sat neatly in the middle.

“Nothing like a picnic. It’s a shame it’s just me this time but I have got to get away,” she sighed waving her hand over the now finished work.

At first it didn’t seem like anything happened, but after a few seconds a small white mist moved across the surface of the paint, giving it a magnifying glass look.

“Nice. Time to go.”

Shrinking like a telescope, Cynthia stepped into her newly drawn landscape. She felt the wind on her face and let the warm sunlight wash over her. This was always her favorite part, the transition is weird at first but it sometimes seems more real than the actual world. Breathing deeply she smelled the wild grass and flowers and the thick fir trees. Sounds of fluttering birds in the tree tops was music to her ears.

“My trajectory was a little off, looks like I’m hiking.”

Giving her shoes a thoughtful glance, she quickly painted a wardrobe. Opening it she finds the pair of shoes she was thinking of.

“Don’t want to be walking with bad shoes.”

Outside her white bedroom door, Oberon gives it a little knock.

“Cynthia? I was wanting to talk to you about something important. Can you let me in?”

No answer.

“Cynthia?”

Slowly opening her door, he sees that she isn’t present.

“Where did she…? Ah the canvas!”

A quick glance at the canvas revealed a forested scene, Cynthia could be seen hopping along a forested trail that ended at a small picnic area. Not even thinking, Oberon waved his hand over the painting and stepped through, finding himself next to the red and white blanket.

“Well she shouldn’t be long, I will just wait here.”

Taking out a book he began to read.

Finishing her little hike in the woods, Cynthia could see the clearing coming into view.

“Wait, is that…?”

She couldn’t believe it, Oberon had actually come to visit, and here she thought she would be picnicking alone today! Quickly covering the short distance to the cliff side she ran up to Oberon, who in response glanced in her direction and placed his book down.

“Miss your target little one?” he asked, giving her a slight smile.

“Grandpa, have you come to picnic with me?” asked Cynthia looking down at her feet.

Oberon held out his arms and invited her to sit down with him she in turn jumping in his lap.

“Its been awhile since we done this hasn’t it?” Oberon asked patting Cynthia on the head.

“It has. I wish we could all do it again. That stupid brush has ruined everything.”

After a short silence Oberon gave Cynthia a big hug.

“I know how you feel. Before you came of age we would do this kind of thing all the time. After your training is complete we can start doing it again.”

Getting to her feet, Cynthia looked Oberon in the face a smile crossing her face.

“You promise?! I just want things to go back to normal.”

Standing to his full height, Oberon grabbed Cynthia in a big hug.

“Yes I promise.”

At the rate she was going it seemed she may never succeed, and never is long time!

“Grandpa?” Cynthia asked, looking thoughtful.

“Hmm?”

“So…about my test…I’m sorry. I seen how disappointed you was…?”

“Your test…oh goodness me the reason I came! Cynthia, little one?”

Placing Cynthia down on the blanket, he kneeled to her eye level.

“Honey, what you seen wasn’t my disappointment with you. I can never be more proud. Something terrible has happened.”

Cynthia surprised, “Terrible?”

“The brush little one. It was stolen last night.”

“Stolen?! But the spelling bees?”

Oberon sighed.

“Remember when Andy was waving her arms?”

Cynthia thought to herself, “Wait. If it wasn’t me…then I did pass!”

She leaped up and hugged Oberon by the waist, sending him prone on the picnic blanket.

“Careful,” he laughed. “Yes you passed, but this is grave news indeed. The waterfall has stopped flowing from the summit. It’s only a matter of time before the Brush of Eternal Ink gains traction.”

“What’s that?”

“Our family has many things we protect little one, just know that while the brush of eternal paint is the source of all paint for Painterly, it’s sister the brush of eternal ink is the source of all ink. Now that the one of paint is gone, only ink remains.”

This was a lot to take in for sure, but what did this have to do with Cynthia.

“What do we do grandpa?”

“It has been tradition that in the event that the brush of eternal paint goes missing that the heir must go to retrieve it. That means little one, that your time has come.”

“My time…you mean…?”

“Yes. While your training isn’t complete tradition takes precedent. You must leave the safety of the summit and search the globe for the brush. Return it here and take your rightful place as it’s heir.”

“I don’t know…”

It was all happening so fast. I mean just a few hours ago Cynthia was dreading a talk…but now, not only did she pass but she gets to take a trip off of the mountain.

Grabbing Cynthia’s hand, “It is your responsibility little one. Come now, the others await us. While our picnic was not meant to be, we have prepared a little party for your trip. Quite the upgrade, no?”