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 Posted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 11:26 pm
The car rumbled away and Lizzy clung nervously to her painting kit. It was a nice one, it looked just like a briefcase, and she'd decorated it with pretty painted flowers, and instead of thinking anxiously about being at Mr. Prosper's house she just tripped up to the door as she stared at the cheerful flowers on her wooden case.
Then she paused after bumping into the door, smoothed her skirt, and knocked carefully. Cheer up, she ordered herself, shaking her finger like she was scolding someone. You are going to paint today! World painting! It's fun! Mr. Prosper is not a creeper, or they wouldn't let him teach!
With that neat little lecture to herself in her head and a deep breath that smelled beautifully of salt water and sunshine, she brushed one braid behind her shoulder and found her smile. Today would be a good day. And if someone tried to stop it from being a good day, well! They'd just have to have words with her.
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Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2009 9:31 am
The door was opened not by Prosper but by his daughter, Ophelia. The tall girl looked down at the child on the doorstep. "Elizabeth?" she asked, and then a flash of recognition crossed her face. "Lizzy! Hi!" she said enthusiastically, and waved the girl in. The house wasn't particularly fancy, but it was nice enough and it looked like people actually lived there.
"Dad!" called Ophelia, "Elizabeth's here!"
She motioned for the younger girl to sit down on one of the sun-faded couches. "Wow," she said, sitting down in a chair opposite her. "I haven't seen you in so long! When Dad said he was teaching a second apprentice from school, I didn't think he meant you!"
"Anyway," she continued, "I think it's really neat that you're learning how to paint worlds. I love it! And I'm sure you will, too." She elected not to talk about her father's disagreements with the painters council. If Elizabeth was lucky, she might never need to know about that. "Dad!" she called again, and got up.
"Actually, come with me," she said, wincing politely. She lead Elizabeth across the room and into the studio. It was a sun-drenched room with a fabulous view of the ocean and a high, airy ceiling. Prosper was seated at the work table, reading from some huge, ancient looking volume. He looked up.
"Good morning," he said.
"He gets into these absentminded magician modes sometimes," whispered Ophelia. "It's kind of funny."
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Posted: Sun Jul 26, 2009 1:47 pm
"Squishy," Lizzy said, voice going high with surprise when she recognized the teenager opening the door. "Wow, you got all grown up!..."
With a huge smile on her face, she nodded very quickly and agreeably; she didn't comment when she got back up again and into a very sunny, bright room and- it was just wow. She decided that this was the kind of house she wanted to live in when she grew up - but she still tucked her wings against her shoulders, covering what her T-shirt didn't of her arms.
"Good morning," she said, a perfect chorus of one, "Mr. Prosper." Then she listened to Ophelia for a moment, nodded importantly and then, quite cheerfully, asked, "What are we doing today, Mr. Prosper?"
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 7:28 pm
Prosper blinked for a moment and then pulled a notepad towards him from the center of the work table. He scanned it and said, "More technique and theory. Maybe a bit of history and culture if we have time."
"Lucky you," whispered Ophelia. "See what I mean about the absentminded magician thing, though?"
Prosper, meanwhile, bookmarked his place and closed the book. The title had faded beyond all possible legibility but he knew well enough what it was.
"What am I doing today?" Ophelia asked him.
Prosper gave her a look that indicated Ophelia already knew perfectly well what she was doing today. "You're painting Caliore as many times as it takes for you to get it right," he said. Ophelia frowned but didn't make any effort to argue - she'd been stuck trying to summon Caliore for the last three days. Prosper waved her towards an easel by the window and went to pull books from the shelf.
"Actually," he said to Elizabeth, "Let's start with a bit of history and culture. Phells, try to listen in."
"Painting!" Ophelia called back as she selected her brushes.
"Wait ten minutes," instructed Prosper.
"Make up your mind," said Ophelia, but joined him at the table. She motioned for Elizabeth to sit on the stool next to hers. "Come on," she said. "Story time."
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 7:50 pm
Whee, thought Lizzy, technique and theory. Not like she didn't try the practical part of it at home, painting the world that was called 'home' over and over and just watching the paint dry, glad to know that if she wanted to hide somewhere where she could never be found she had at least that sanctuary.
"Yeah," she whispered, "totally." She watched Squishy - Ophelia - go off to an easel with something that was not quite envy but more than friendly curiosity. Where ever Caliore was, she wanted to go there! Elizabeth wanted to go everywhere - to all the worlds. Everywhere there ever was! but first, she had to learn the techniques and theory.
And then she didn't, so she scrambled onto the stool Squishy - Ophelia! - had indicated and settled herself there, entangling her feet like she never wanted to leave that spot ever.
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 9:29 pm
Prosper joined them at the table and spread out his stack of selected books. Ophelia, for one, had never had much book instruction in her training prior to now and so all this was just as new to her as it was to Elizabeth.
"The origins of World Painting are uncertain," explained Prosper, pushing a thin, wide book towards the center of the table. Like the others, it was leather bound and the title was long since faded. "But the Assembly was officially organized during the early Italian Renaissance."
"The Assembly?" prompted Ophelia, who knew what it was but knew her father was likely to forget to explain.
"The governing organization that all World Painters capable of summoning inhabited worlds are required to be members of," explained Prosper. He looked at Elizabeth. "The Assembly gives each painter a rank, and there are exams required to pass from one rank to another. Presently you are considered to be a sub-apprentice rank painter," he explained. "You have just begun your training and cannot yet paint inhabited worlds. An Apprentice-rank painter like Ophelia is capable of summoning simple inhabited worlds. The next two ranks, Journeyman and Artisan, are determined by complexity."
"What about Master?" asked Ophelia, who suspected her father might purposely forget to explain that one.
"The highest rank is Master," sighed Prosper. "And now is not the proper time nor place to explain the complexities of earning the rank."
He reached forward and opened the book. "This is a painter's atlas," he told the girls. "It contains information for summoning various worlds. Over the course of their lifetimes, many painters chose to compile their own atlases. This one belonged to my grandfather."
"That's Bellamaria," said Ophelia, looking at the picture.
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Posted: Sun Aug 02, 2009 11:09 pm
She practically climbed onto the table in order to see better, with both knees planted on the top of the stool so she could get maximum viewing area. The Italian Renaissance had been briefly addressed in her history class, and she paused over that tidbit and tilted her head thoughtfully. What did that -- oh, it was probably one of those "we are an ancient brotherhood" things! She could understand that. Lizzy smiled and rested her chin in her cupped hands to listen to the rest of the stories.
Mr. Prosper's refusal to explain how one became a Master only made her more curious. If she was going to do something, she wanted to do it well, and if that meant become a Master then that's what she would do - or at least what she'd try to do. It only made sense, after all.
Peering down at the atlas, she studied the picture that Ophelia had said was Bellamaria. "Where's that," she asked, and then she realized that might be the wrong question. "I mean, what is it? Have you been there before, Ophelia?"
It went without saying that Mr. Prosper had been there. Even asking would be totally a "duh" moment.
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Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2009 4:30 am
Ophelia smiled over at the younger girl. "It's like Venice," she explained, wrinkling her nose, "Only... different. It's where we go to take exams."
"It's a city ruled by the Painter's Council," explained Prosper.
"We have a house there," added Ophelia. "It's really pretty. Like, the whole city, I mean. It's like Italy but without any of the dirty parts."
"There are certain environmental spells a Master painter can perform on their surroundings. Bellamaria is enchanted to never decay or show its age. The city is over five hundred years old and looks no older than when it was first built."
"It's so pretty," said Ophelia, for Elizabeth's benefit.
Prosper turned the page to a jungle world.
"Oh," said Ophelia, "I don't know that one."
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Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2009 9:15 pm
Oh, Venice was pretty in all the pictures she saw in her textbook, but Bellamaria did look prettier. And if it didn't age, then Elizabeth was willing to bet it was definitely the place she'd rather go. She leaned forward a little further to examine the picture - environmental spells, she heard, and she nodded to herself. One more reason to become a Master! Of course she didn't quite know what she would enchant, but surely she'd get to that when she got to it?
"You don't know it yet," she said brightly, "But if you're already an apprentice I bet you will, Ophelia!" Then she turned to the teacher and asked, "Where's this one?"
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Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2009 9:29 pm
"Not many people know this one," said Prosper. "It's called Tragalia."
Ophelia nodded and traced along a length of vine with her pinky finger. "Pretty name," she said. "Is it an advanced world?" she asked.
"Not particularly," replied Prosper. "There are simply some worlds that are less commonly summoned, worlds that are not of particular importance or significance and so do not come to the attention of most painters. That is why atlases are so important - because they record a painters achievements, studies, and explorations. Without them, Worlds could potentially become lost to painters for centuries at a time."
That much made sense to Ophelia - not everyone could be a Pioneer and enjoy the liberty of plucking names out of their heads.
"The task of compiling an atlas is usually begun at the apprentice rank, once one begins summoning worlds considered to be significant," continued Prosper. "Elizabeth, you might not be able to master the technique today, but how would you enjoy an introduction to it?"
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Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2009 9:37 pm
Oops, thought Elizabeth, she had asked the wrong question again. It's not where, it's-- You know, she didn't actually know how to ask the name of a world. Who is it sounded kind of odd. But that was all right; Mr. Prosper had known what she was talking about anyway. And she'd figure it out eventually, because she was smart, which she knew because everyone told her so.
"Tragalia," she repeated, "It's fun to say." And then of course there was the explanation of the atlas, which she dutifully filed away. It was nice to not lose worlds, and probably the worlds liked it too, because being lost was not pleasant. Lizzy should know; she had been lost before.
She nodded enthusiastically. "That'd be cool," she said, stressing the adjective. "I would enjoy it a lot!"
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Posted: Tue Aug 11, 2009 11:39 am
Prosper got up again. When he returned to the table he held a stack of leatherbound books. There was a sense of newness about them.
Ophelia caught her father's eye to make sure it was okay to take one, and he gave her a nod of approval. She lifted the top book off the stack and smiled at it. "This one's mine," she said firmly, and set it down in front of her. It was bound with warm mahogany leather and was embossed with small gold stars.
Prosper spread the rest of the stack out in front of Elizabeth.
"Pick the book that calls to you," he said.
A lot of world painting was based on intuition and personal preference. Atlas compiling was no exception.
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Posted: Tue Aug 11, 2009 10:13 pm
Elizabeth spent a great deal more time poring over cover designs; none of them really spoke to her much until she came to one near the very bottom of the pile. It had a pattern of something like feathers on it, and the second she saw it her entire face lit up like a Christmas tree. "This one's pretty," she said contently, running one hand over the front of it. She returned the rest of them to their stack neatly, then smiled up at Prosper.
"Thank you," she said, then she settled back properly onto her stool and began to look through the empty atlas.
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Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2009 6:56 am
Both girls now had the books that resonated with them, and that was good. "I got these books from an artisan in Bellamaria, a painter who specializes in atlas-binding. They're enchanted so that when you fill all the pages, you can add more and the binding will expand to fit."
Ophelia turned the book over in her hands, trying to find any sign of an enchanted mechanism, and couldn't. The binder was good.
Prosper was on his feet again, searching the shelves. He returned with a thick book with a wavelike pattern embossed in silver on the cover. It was easily four to five times thicker than the books he had given the girls. "This is my atlas," he said, and opened it reverently to show them a few pages, flashes of color and motion.
"Highwood!" exclaimed Ophelia, pointing to one.
"A world of my own discovery," nodded Prosper, and closed the book. He put it away.
"The pages of an atlas preserve a reflection of the magic contained in a painting that is no longer a portal," he told the girls. "Ophelia, your old paintings are in the file cabinet at the far end of the study. Pick one you'd like to try preserving."
He turned to Elizabeth. "It's not customary to put Home worlds in atlases, so how would you like to try summoning a slightly more complicated world today?" he asked her.
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Posted: Sat Oct 10, 2009 8:21 pm
Elizabeth had no such curiosity in the books, simply accepting the magic in them as Prosper said. She set her chin on top of the book and watched Prosper find his book, and then when he opened it in front of them she peered into it over Ophelia's shoulder. Yeah, she felt a little - okay, a lot - left out when the older girl recognized the world and Elizabeth didn't. But Ophelia really was Mr. Prosper's daughter. It only made sense, didn't it?
"Okay," she said, still flipping through the cream-colored pages. "Okay okay."
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