Three hours after lunch and three seconds after Harley dropped her off at the door, Alina entered her quarters alone. The afternoon hadn’t been bad but it had not been good. She had so much to learn about The Light. Though her uncle had taught her much over the last five months, her knowledge couldn’t compare to her classmates’ who had been living it and studying it all their lives. Evidence of that became painfully clear when Professor Berit handed her a huge stack of books at the end of class, among them a picture book called, Welcome to The Light, Lucy!
How embarrassing.
At least Professor Berit hadn’t placed that book on top of her stack so everyone could see. Enough snickering had been made at her expense for one day. Who was she kidding? …show more content…
Once she stepped inside and saw her easel and stool from home, a sense of calm washed over her. She circled the perimeter of the space, soaking in all of her paintings which had been rescued by The Light. How they greeted her with color, texture, life. The room might end up being her favorite place in all the world.
As she scanned her pictures, she thought about what she might want to paint today. Then she stopped short and started sifting through the paintings leaning up against the walls, stacked one behind another. Finding her self-portrait would be so vindicating. Unfortunately, her search proved unfruitful. It wasn’t in the room. Where could it be? Not that it mattered. The only fact of importance was it wasn’t there. She had no proof—no hard evidence she was the Fair One—and that stunk. The teasing and suspicion would continue. Unless…
Would it be so wrong if she created a duplicate? For all she knew, her self-portrait had been destroyed. It’s not like she hadn’t painted the original. She knew what it looked like. In fact, she might be doing everyone a favor. Wouldn’t everyone like to see what it looked like? Reproductions were made all the time, right?
Wrong. Her shoulders
How embarrassing.
At least Professor Berit hadn’t placed that book on top of her stack so everyone could see. Enough snickering had been made at her expense for one day. Who was she kidding? …show more content…
Once she stepped inside and saw her easel and stool from home, a sense of calm washed over her. She circled the perimeter of the space, soaking in all of her paintings which had been rescued by The Light. How they greeted her with color, texture, life. The room might end up being her favorite place in all the world.
As she scanned her pictures, she thought about what she might want to paint today. Then she stopped short and started sifting through the paintings leaning up against the walls, stacked one behind another. Finding her self-portrait would be so vindicating. Unfortunately, her search proved unfruitful. It wasn’t in the room. Where could it be? Not that it mattered. The only fact of importance was it wasn’t there. She had no proof—no hard evidence she was the Fair One—and that stunk. The teasing and suspicion would continue. Unless…
Would it be so wrong if she created a duplicate? For all she knew, her self-portrait had been destroyed. It’s not like she hadn’t painted the original. She knew what it looked like. In fact, she might be doing everyone a favor. Wouldn’t everyone like to see what it looked like? Reproductions were made all the time, right?
Wrong. Her shoulders