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–Kingston (Before The Quest)–
I stared out the window, past the easel set in front of me. Unsure if I’d ever recreate it.
I’d been painting for hours. Trying for almost a year.
Color filled every edge of my mind and almost every inch of the canvas, but it still wasn’t right. It was still missing...
I couldn’t see it. What filled the space in the middle.
What completed the dream.
I’d searched every recess of my memory trying to find it, but the answer wouldn’t come.
And I was out of time.
I needed to let it go. Accept my fate, oversee The Quest, and resign myself to a future I never wanted.
I never asked for this.
But while Landon still struggled with guilt over what had happened last year, and the Knights of this year’s Round Tableau picked their Maidens from a preordained pile, I ran out of options.
I’d sworn I wouldn’t yield. I’d promised...
My eyes fixed on the bright spots nestled between darker shades of green before falling to the space below.
The only spot of creamy white canvas left.
The only bit of light amongst the vibrant hues that I’d combined to form my life-long symbol of darkness.
I set down the brush and wiped my hands.
After cleaning up and scrubbing every hint of where I’d been from my face and arms, I left the tower. Needing to find him as I slowly accepted defeat.
I breathed easier when I did, even though he looked up at me with a frown. He didn’t realize it was there, marring his features the way it always did.
Whenever he sat beneath the lemon tree.
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