~4~

The world that Angie was welcomed with once her vision returned was unbelievable. The air wasn't chilly, and the sky wasn't a dreary white like it had been before. Angie could feel the sun shining down on her face, and this world smelled like all of her favorite baked treats. She was standing outside, in a field of flowers. Some were blue, some pink, some vibrant shades of purple. Some were a cross between blue and yellow but not quite green, instead a lovely buttery shade that calmed the senses of its onlooker. This was called Swan, Angie learned, one of the colors only Artists could see.

     Beyond the field was a circle of waterfalls, a large plummeting valley among the land of rock. Water flowed down in delicate sprays to meet in a pool of swirling shades of blue. The brave thundering of the water paired with an Indiana Jones-like theme to Angie's ears. Surrounding the field and waterfalls was a village that spanned as far as the eye could see, a melting pot of the most curious structures one could imagine. Some houses were great castles, with sparkling doors and towering ceilings that brought on a soaring flute melody. Some were cute, quaint little townhouses with dogs playing in the yards. Some were even a mix of both. But what really piqued Angie's interest as she traveled closer to the village were the people.

          Wandering about were people that looked just like anyone else. Some of them had life-size canvasses set up and held palettes twice as wide as their arm. Angie focused on one particular painter, with flowing brown hair and sparkling pink eyes. The painter raised her hand as if conducting an orchestra, making orbs of color pop into view around her.  With an intricate, precise flourish of her arm, the orbs glided toward the canvas, mirroring her arm's motion. Once they reached the material, there was a landscape so realistic and beautiful that one would just think it was another part of the scenery. To Angie's left, she noticed a group of people in folding chairs, each with a music stand in front of them as they played a tune in perfect harmony with one another. The band was made up of cellos, flute, and some instruments Angie had never even seen before. But the music was beautiful. Angie could practically picture the medieval video game or movie series that the music could be the score for. The remainder of the people simply strolled about, admiring the art that was taking place before them.

     A hushed "Woah," was all Angie could manage.

     "Angelica," Brayden announced. "Welcome to Canvas."

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