Connections
And unspeakable beauty.
I make small talk with my head held high, nibbling at my rose petal salad. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to smile and laugh on cue, and the performance leaves meexhausted.
A break couldn’t come soon enough. After being dismissed, I take refuge in the library—of course a place like this would havea library.
If the floor to ceiling books weren’t impressive enough, there’s one of those cool rolling ladders. Everything is warm earth tones with ivy and other climbing plants dancing up the columns, their leaves creating shadows upon the tall windows. The pink flowers that hang around the castle look especially beautiful in here, bright against the dark wood and dusty shelves. The ceilings are large enough for someone to spread their wings and fly all the way up to the tallest shelf. There are even a few high alcoves that suggest people might perch among the books like birds in a tree—needless to say, I love it here.
Sprout lays at my feet while I curl up on a large sofa with a stack of books I don’t have the attention span to read.
The light highlights the suspended chair-swing in the corner, and I watch the flower-covered wicker seat swing idly back and forth between the dark wood bookshelves.
Looks like I’ve found my Photo of the Day.
Hopping to my feet, I snag my phone out of my pocket and power it on. I balance it on some shelves near the window. The suspended chair is perfectly showcased in the corner of the shot. I arrange a stack of books towering a few feet above the ground. Clicking the timer, I rush to the swing, crashing onto it just in time to pull a book into my lap. Repeating the process a few times, I end up with a handful of photos I love—the best are the ones where Sprout sprawls across the floor just in frame. I couldn’t ask for a better furry friend to keep my company—even if I miss Moth more with every passing second.
“What are you doing?” The sound of Holly’s voice causes me to jump and let out a scream—which is totally not embarrassing in theslightest.
“Sorry! Oh my god, I didn’t hear you come in. Are you two all wrapped up?”
Holly narrows her eyes, snatching the phone from its place on the shelves, which isone, rude, andtwo, makes uncertainty bubble in my chest. Cell phones obviously aren’t a thing here, and neither are cameras.
“What is this?” She holds it with just the tips of her fingers as if it will bite her if she getstoo close.
“Oh, it’s like...” How do I describe this to someone who has idea what aphone is?
“It’s like a communication device, and this here,” I point to the camera, “takes pictures, like a very fast real-lifeportrait.”
“And you have been taking these around Eclipsica?”
“Just the castle, really.” I bite my bottom lip. “Is that okay? I can delete them obviously. I’m not planning on sharing them with anyone or anything like that.”
She blinks, as if still not being able to understand the concept. I flip the screen toward her, swiping across the photos from the library.
“How did you accomplish this?”
“Oh!” I grin. “If you want, I could show you. We could take a picture of you now, or we could get a little artsy and have you dressed in full armor with a row of swords behind you.”
“Why would youdo that?”
“Oh, to create an interesting composition, I guess. Training seems really important to you so—”
“No.” She raises her hand to signal me to stop talking—and I do, clamping my lips together. “Why would you do any of it?”
“Oh…” I hesitate, pushing down the sinking feeling that’s building in my chest. “Well, I used to take pictures for a lot of different reasons. It was my job to make all sorts of content, but now, it’s kinda like a scrapbook.”
“A what?”
“Like a very personal portrait gallery?” I offer, trying not to let my frustration show. Holly is probably nottryingto insult me. She just wants to understand this hobby of mine better, and I should try to show her with a little more patience. She’s never seen a camera before, let alone an entire phone. Of course she has a million questions—even if they do seem a littlebit judgy.
“Do you have any more?” I let the tension fall from my shoulders at the genuine curiosity in her voice. “I would like to see where my brother spent his life without us.”
“Yes, totally!” I hop up, sliding close to her on the couch, and place the phone between us to give her the best view. While I can’t show Holly what Moth’s entire life in the mortal realm has been like, I can show her a few snapshots of this last year—which, in my opinion, has beena pretty spectacular one. It’s hard to decide where to start, so I pull up an album of my absolute favorite shots.
“You’re going to love these,” I gush. Not only are the compositions effortless, but they’re just socozy.
In the first photo, Moth sits at our small dining nook, his red eyes just peeking over the rim of a large floral mug. Behind him, sunshine from the windows casts golden light across the dark wooden walls. Breathing in, it’s almost like I can smell the warm scent of cinnamon as it wafts from the kitchen.
