Chapter 13 Words Are Magic?
From what it sounded like, they thought Ben would fully win me over and that would leave Nate heartbroken and in need of a little lovin'... Like that would ever happen!
But I guess I am supposed to keep my mouth shut and let them have their seriously delusional fantasy for now. And how is that fair to me? It's not like I asked to be the center of humiliating gossip! All I want to do is servive camp, maybe steal Nate, and leave! Is that too much to ask?
I was so distracted, I ran right into the councilor in charge.
She reminded me of a mix between a pirate and a hippie. She wore a rainbow neon bandana around her head, and beads falling down her hair and in her ears. She had bangles gracing her wrists, that clinked each time she moved. She wore high heeled boots that went up past her knees and mini short shorts, along with here white tee shirt and little brown vest.
Huh... Okay then!
"My name is Brittany, and I will be your instructor for todays crafts," she called out serenely. "Everyone take a seat, all the supplies are already at the tables. As you can see, we will be making treasure chests today," she announced as everyone took their seats.
"So go ahead and get started. All the instructions are right in front of you. To keep you occupied and your mind busy, I will tell you a tale about a secret treasure right here at Camp Mirror Lake..." she started.
I felt a low hum in the room, but since I was busy coming up with my design, I really didn't care. I couldn't even pin point what I was feeling, so I pushed it to the back of my mind.
I took out my paint brush and paints that were in front of me. I decided to paint a flowery vine pattern, with a single butterfly on top. I began as Brittany's soothing voice lulled me into a trance.
"A long time ago, there was a warrior sent out to set the magic free..."
I remembered this part of the story. It seems like every story I've heard so far is just bits and pieces of one big whole. Everything seemed to revolve around Mirror Lake and magic.
Something in her voice seemed to intensify the hum running through my body, but at the same time I couldn't bring myself to care! Her voice was soft and lilting, kinda like a lullaby I never heard before, but somehow it felt familiar...
I vaguely wondered what this one was going to be and why I should care. For some reason red lights were going off in my head, warning me to pay attention. This was important... But all I could do was listen to her soft voice as visions filled my mind and followed the story.
"This warrior had a magic item to help him find the key whole that would release the magic back into the world..." she spoke rhythmically.
Hmm... I bet she would make a killing off of telling stories to screaming toddlers! She would put them right to sleep!
"But the item needed magic, and the warriors had been stolen, just like everyone else's..." She continued.
I wondered how this warrior would feel if he knew that years later, after he was unable to accomplish his quest, people would still tell stories and write songs about him.
Something about this brave warrior called out to me. Something pulled me to him!
"The item he had was dangerous, if it ever fell into the wrong hands. He couldn't let the evil king steal it. So, the warrior hid it, deep in the forest..." she almost sang the words to this sad tale.
"He vowed, if he was ever to regain his magic again, he would come for the mysterious magical item and overthrow the evil one..." she said with strength and conviction.
"But alas, the poor warrior was stuck in the bubble below the lake, never to return. And now, with no magic left in the world, and no warrior to retrieve the item, all hope has been lost," she finished with a sigh.
My heart aches for this poor warrior. Even after so long...
Brittany suddenly clapped her hands and I suddenly snapped out of what ever enchantment she had placed on me and looked down at my little treasure chest.
It was finished! Just how long had she been telling her depressing tale, and how fast had I painted?
I guess it really didn't matter because at that moment, Brittany stood and said "Thank you all for your lovely inspiration... Your power flows through me and fills the room with artistic talent! Feel free to stop in whenever you want and work on more projects, or just to chat!"
Then she dismissed us.
Well, that was weird. Not just weird. It was like the more she spoke the less I paid attention to what I was doing. But my project came out exactly as I had envisioned in my mind. Maybe art is magic of it's own... Or, maybe words are magic?
It hadn't felt like there was enough time to pass for all of us to finish painting. It didn't seem more than 15 minutes! But I asked my friends how long we'd been (Turns out only Mercy actually had a watch) and we'd been in there for two hours! What the flippin' crap!
We all hurried to put our projects back in our cabin. I looked at it one last time and noticed something I hadn't seen before.
The colors that should be bright and bold were all muted.