Sleep tugged at the back of Silas's mind as he slathered paint on the canvas in front of him. It always crept up behind him, but when he was painting he could ignore it. The drowsiness only made his paintings more interesting- at least that was what he thought. He painted his dreams - odd landscapes with pieces that didn't make sense. Jarring changes from a soft field to a craggy cliff lit with harsh light. For his age, he was unusually talented at manipulating the brushes he'd been given. Even Deskri had commented on it, and Silas knew that the art teacher was not one to hand out compliments on a whim.
He continued painting, losing track of the world around him as he blended blue into lilac. This dreamscape was a cottoncandy wonderland- fluffy clouds filled with sweet treats and wispy looking creatures that had no names. He'd seen it in his dreams the night before, and knew he had to paint it. If he painted it, maybe he'd be able to visit that dream again. But, then again... he gave nightmares the same courtesy- painting them out in as much detail as he could.
He wanted to keep doing this forever. Dream, paint, rinse and repeat. The nice thing about the Academy was that the adults here were so very attentive. Better than the home he'd been taken from- where even glancing his mothers was a blessing. They encouraged him to continue painting- he was very talented, they said. He'd continue doing it, and maybe one day he'd fill the halls of the Academy with his dreams.
