Chapter 38: Cadogan
The patterns thickened, colours gathering until they resolved into swirling green and turquoise liquid that caught the hearth light and sparkled like a small, contained borealis.
(I painted this in Procreate using the oil paint brush and found it immensely difficult trying to stop painting the clouds and think that I could have kept going for days, but thankfully I give myself deadlines. - Chaiga T. Cheska)
Oren’s eyes widened as he stepped forward before he quite realised he had moved. He reached out to the man standing before them. “Olis. At last.” His hand swept back beside him, catching Nix by the upper arm and drawing him close. “Please, this is my cousin, Nix. He’s in desperate need of your guidance.”
A soft, weary sigh escaped Harthos at the door. Tavik shot him a dark, warning look just as Olis lifted his hands and set them gently on Oren’s and Nix’s shoulders and looked between them both. Oren found himself staring into ancient eyes, fathomless and blue as deep water, and the quiet smile that rose there steadied him. Nix, too, stilled at once, caught by the presence of this unusual being, as though speech had left them both and only breath remained.
When Olis spoke again, his voice carried a warmth that seemed to fold around them. “There is no need for worry in this moment. Many creatures along your way have spoken of your trials, and yes, I will help as well as I may.” His gaze shifted past them, softening with concern. “But for now, I believe there is one in greater need, for I see a boy fading even in sleep.”
He stepped back a little, as though listening to something only he could hear, and the air in the room seemed to tighten around his attention. Even Harthos straightened, the frustration draining from him as Olis’s words settled over them without needing acknowledgement.
Oren, Nix and Tavik whirled towards the sofa where Bran still lay in deep, untroubled sleep. At first glance, he seemed peaceful, but a faint shimmer clung to the outline of his body, thinner now than it had been, as though the light itself were losing its hold on him.
