Swirling lines, like ribbons flying through the air, sprouted from the pencil. They flew onto the page, looking like they were dancing around, even in their stillness.
Jamie had finally decided to go back to drawing. Though she was low on inspiration, she somehow ended up with a few intriguing pictures.
The first one, was a three-dimensional picture of a crystal on a chain, with beams of light shining through it. On the opposite side from the light, was a cascade of rainbows, blooming from the glassy facet. This had taken Jamie a long time to perfect.
The second one, was a sketch of a swan, with a long, elegantly curved neck. Incredible detail was depicted. Every piece of down, every feather was shown in perfect detail. The tail feathers were ruffled, as if the bird had just landed. With out a moment of hesitation, Jamie had even added little splashes of water around the swan, as it would appear if the creature had just plunged into the water.
The third one, was a tree.
As plain as it sounds, this was probably the most difficult, and meaningful picture of them all. After Jamie had drawn the boughs, and trunk, she took a long time, adding leaves and flowers. Each individual petal, took a few seconds to draw. She'd even drawn the ground it sat upon, plus the grass, and any fallen flowers or leaves.
There was something about the tree in the picture, that made it feel like it was more than just a tree. Like it has a life. A spark. And it was beautiful in its own way.
The picture that Jamie was currently working on, didn't look much like anything.
It was a symbol, she had made up on the spot.
The image showed five strings—that looked like thin ribbon, almost like hair—curling around in a circle, and tied in a complicated knot in the middle. The strings faded at the edge of the circle, making Jamie feel like it was incomplete. But she didn't know what else to add.
"Whatcha doing?" her mother asked from the doorway.
"Drawing," Jamie answered plainly, still staring at her picture intently.
"What are you drawing?" her mother asked playfully, still leaning on the doorframe.
"This, um, symbol." Jamie showed the picture to her parent, and let her look at it.
"Interesting. I like it. What made you draw it?"
"I don't know. It's kind of weird, it feels incomplete." Jamie tore the page out of her sketchbook, and started to crumple it up.
"I think it was nice," her mother said, raising an eyebrow at Jamie's impulsive behaviour. "You didn't need to get rid of it."
"Oh well," Jamie replied, tossing the paper onto the floor. "It was weird, and I didn't really like it."
"Okay. Call if you need me. I'll make lunch in an hour or so."
"Bye."
As soon as her mother was out of sight, Jamie grabbed the paper ball, and smoothed it out. She laid it down on the open page of her sketchbook, and stared at it. Finally, she went over to her little bookshelf, and pulled out a heavy world atlas. Opening to a random page in the centre of the book, she inserted the page, then closed the book, replacing it on the shelf. She wasn't sure why she had ended up saving the drawing, but it felt like it had some importance.
She laid down on her bed, putting away her drawing supplies, and closing her eyes.
It felt good, to stretch out, and Jamie shifted into a comfortable position. Then she fell asleep.
And she had dreams.
In the dream, she was in a cave. Or was it not? She couldn't quite tell. The picture of what she was seeing, was fuzzy, as if her vision was blurred.
The walls looked gray, and uneven, so she assumed that it was a cave.
In the cramped room, there were two chairs. Each holding a body, lashed to the backrest in chains.
In one of the chairs, was Coco. She was thinner, and frailer. She was also covered in swollen burn-marks. Her skin was red, as if she had been baked for a few hours, and welts dotted her skin. At least she didn't seem to be in any current agony, as her face was calm. She was unconscious.
The other chair held Mr. Forkle.
He looked worse. His skin was baggy, and he looked hungry. He was wearing the same clothes that Jamie had seen him in, when he had spent the day with him. And that had been weeks ago.
His right sleeve was ripped, just enough to show a burn mark. It was shaped like an eye. Jamie had seen something like that. When people claimed horses, they would burn their symbol into the horse's side, so that if it was stolen, they could identify it as theirs. Just seeing that symbol, burned on Mr. Forkle's arm, made her shudder.
But he was conscious. His sky blue eyes, flicked around the room, as if calculating his odds of escape.
Suddenly, a door banged open, and a cloaked figure stormed in.
"This is the final—"
"Let the girl go." Jamie was stunned. Mr. Forkle's voice was harsh, and despite his ragged appearance, she regained respect for him. The man in the cloak, did not seem deterred.
"You really think that—"
Mr. Forkle sighed. "I warned you. The youngling will defeat you. She is infinitely powerful. She managed to block me, without acknowledging what she was doing. Even indirect consent didn't work. From the descent of two of the most powerful families. Not to mention—" Mr. Forkle trailed off, scowling. "No matter. You will let the human go. I might not be able to free her myself, but I know, you don't want to make the youngling angry."
The figure paused, and for a moment, he seemed to question how likely Mr. Forkle's words were.
"I don't understand why I should believe you. Our tests have shown that she has displayed no signs of development. She is untrained. I admit, she has potential. But nothing yet." A smile filled the cloaked man's voice. "Your threats, are empty."
"She possesses far more than meets the eye. She is progressing. And your punishment for ignorance, will be great."
"Enough chit chat. You now have a choice. Give me the key to her ability. The truth. If you lie, that"—he gestured to a gadget strapped to Mr. Forkle's wrist—"will kill you. The other option is, the human dies.
"You can't—" Mr. Forkle's tone was slightly unbelieving. He regained composure. "The guilt from that would break you on the spot."
"But not when I maintain contact—mental and physical—with the cache at all times."
Mr. Forkle's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything.
"So, make your choice, ruckleberry man."
"But don't you need the human for leverage? Shouldn't you—"
The man stepped beside Coco, and placed a hand on her forehead, cutting Jamie's neighbour off.
"Now."
Mr. Forkle sighed, and closed his eyes.
"The secret, is trust."

1190 Words!
Hiya!
My darker writing aspects are taking over.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you liked it, feel free to vote, and comment what you think!
Signing off.
—Wawawa