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The Art of Drawing

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The evening was nice and warm, perfect for a walk, and I looked wistfully towards the nearby river. Sadly, I was not out on a date, but on an investigation mission, and currently waiting for my governor to come back or give me any sign he had found something. As for myself, the search proved quite fruitless.


Suddenly I heard quick footsteps behind me, and a young woman's voice calling : "Ah te voilà, Salim! Je te cherchais partout!" When I turned she was reaching for me, but suddenly faltered, realising I was not the Salim she was looking for.


"I'm sorry, sir." She went on without hesitation, showing only a little disappointment. "I mistook you for someone else."


"No harm done." I answered. The young woman was of average height, blonde, with curly hair, a characterful face and a confident glance coming from unbelievingly purple eyes. She looked at me levelly in a way that was far too wise for her apparent age. But now that I have met Rivers and other fae, I know that the age you look is not necessarily the one you have. And don't get me started on Nightingale. "Is your eyes' colour natural?" I asked, quite fascinated.


She nodded. "It is. I'm from Gwendalavir."


I frowned, remembering the rumors we were investigating. "Is that..." but she interrupted me even before I asked : "You could say it is a place in a parallel universe."


"One you go to through a portal?" I asked; since she was volunteering information, I was not about to complain.


She looked surprised at the question. "Usually people ask about parallel universes." She remarked.


I grinned. "I'm DC Peter Grant, from the Folly." I reached in my pocket to give her a card, a nice habit I had copied on my governor. He might still half be living in the last century, but there is no denying he has class, and I do try to prove myself worthy to his eyes. "Anything unusual is our speciality."


She took the card, smiled warmly and proffered her hand, which I shook. "Ewilan Gil' Sayan. And to answer your question, no portal, I'm a Drawer, we just took a Big Step."


She must have noticed I didn't understand her wording, and ran a hand through her unruly hair. "Like teleportation? This is a small step to the side." And she disappeared in front of my eyes. I had taken an automatic step back feeling the beginning of the forma, and nearly stumbled on the young woman who now was standing behind me.


"I..." I was at a loss for words. The shape of the spell she had formed was really different from the one I knew, and yet so advanced. "I... Drawing, you said?" There had been something of that behind the spell, like the sound of pencil on paper and the image of strokes and filling. Yet there was no vestigium.


She smiled again, and opened her hand. Slowly, a flower bud appeared in it. She had Drawn it. With her mind. Her magic was of shapes very similar to the Newtonian formae, but she physically drew them in her mind. This felt both familiar and foreign at the same time, and I looked at her in wonder.


"That's beautiful." I said.


"Thank you." She made the picture dissolve, then created a crystal sculpture in its place, an abstract construction full of angles and facets, shining in the last rays of the setting sun. I felt a bit more what she was doing then, the pencil stroke sharper and confident. She definitely was gifted at sketching.


I wanted to give her something in kind, and she was demonstrating her forma to me, so I took out my own hand and made a werelight. She gasped. I sent it floating towards the sculpture, coming to illuminate it from the inside.


Light danced on our faces and the buildings around, in a beautiful swirl of glows and rainbows. After exchanging a new smile, I stopped the light and she erased her drawing.


"How do you do that?" She asked, and I demonstrated the light again, saying the word. "Lux."


She opened her hand again, and tried of her own. She nearly did it, too, but dropped her hand and swore as she felt the heat burn. I laughed. "I remember that happening a few times to me at first too."


I can't deny I was impressed. She clearly had the equivalent of a Master's level in her craft, to be able to do such things and nearly replicate a spell of a different kind of magic on the first try. I sighed, thinking of my own incapacity to draw. Nightingale could carve, maybe it helped with his spells, I would ask him the next chance I got. Maybe I should start some artistic pursuit as well.


Then a voice came from around the corner. "Ewilan!"


She smiled and waved. "Salim!"


She turned back to me. "I must leave you now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Peter Grant."


"Likewise, Ewilan Gil' Sayan. I am glad to have met you."


She turned and walked away then, to go and greet the young athletic man with a kiss. They waved and went, and I looked wistfully after them.


"What are you doing, Peter?" I started. I hadn't heard Nightingale come out of the building behind me.


"I met a girl from a place called Gwendalavir." I said.


"Oh? What did she want? Any news about Merwyn?"  


"What?" I turned, surprised, and my governor smirked.


"Maybe once we are home, you can read up on the Gwendalavir file, and perhaps enrich it?"


I nodded, already curious about this Merwyn - was it our Merlin? - and the ties between Gwendalavir and the Folly.


"She drew beautifully." I remarked.


Nightingale looked nostalgic for a moment. "I'm sure she did." He said.