Five minutes later and George was dressed up in a gaudy, dark blue thing that honestly might not have looked too bad on a handsome man. It really wasn’t the kind of clothing that Kreig could appreciate on an aesthetic level. What were the little shiny buttons for? Why did he have a glittery top-hat? What tailor would stoop to this level?

“It’s not too modern, but, I assure you, I was the most popular guy at the prom,” George said in all confidence, pulling out a cloth rose from… Somewhere. Kreig really wasn’t about to question any of this.

Someone else wasn’t about to let his statement go unchallenged. “-Really? Most popular? George, I’ve got a photo of you that might prove otherwise,” Sam teased, poking her head out of her room. She hadn’t gone to bed. What a liar. “Though, really, I’ve gotta ask. What’d you bring out your one suit for? Found a prom date after all these years?”

“-Hey, shut it! He doesn’t need to know that!” George shouted back, crossing his arms sternly. “Besides, I’ve got nothing better to wear. A man must always present his best side while having his portrait painted.”

That got her attention. “Oh? Is that-, is this-?” Her face went through about five different expressions, beginning with pleasant surprise and ending with childish upset. “Hey, how come I wasn’t invited? I bet I could look fifteen times better on a canvas than he ever could!”

Kreig stared at her strangely. “Join us if you’d like.”

He didn’t see why this was even a question. Fitting two people on a single canvas was as easy as a single one, although it did increase the time it’d take him to complete it. As long as she wouldn’t mind this, she could easily join. No issue there. In that sense, the only thing keeping him from getting straight to painting was Sam herself. After all, she just sort of… stood there. Eyes slightly wide.

“Is that an invitation?” she asked. Kreig nodded. Of course it was an invitation, what else would it be? “Oho? Really now?” A competitive grin flashed across her face. “Very well then! Watch me beat George out of the park as easily as a fly flies!”

With that declaration of battle, she rushed back into her room. Going by her cackle and general demeanour, it was clear she was trying to out-dress her brother. Going by Kreig’s lacking knowledge of these kinds of things, this might take a while. And so, after taking a peek at his brother and getting a sympathetic nod in turn, they went over to the living room. Together, they decided pretty quickly how they’d do this. Namely, George and Sam would sit on the couch while Kreig painted them, making sure not to get any paint on the carpet, even though Kreig assured George that he had cleaning skills that could clean such stains. George didn’t trust him on that. A dirty carpet was a dirty carpet.

“The star arrives!” Sam shouted from down the hall.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Both Kreig and George peeked down the hall, getting a glance at just who they were looking at. She was… remarkably well-dressed. With how unappealing George was dressed, it almost seemed like a miracle. She wore this ankle-length, frilly thing that shouldn’t have complimented a hard woman like her in the least. Light yellow, poofy… Somehow, despite it all, the colour didn’t clash with neither her eyes nor her hair. It fit. Somehow.

“Stunned, are you? Heh, I used to be really into dressmaking as a teen, so… I’ve always got one on hand!” she said with a proud grin, just as George let out a deep sigh.

Since Kreig was already standing by his canvas and George was already sitting on the couch, it was just a matter of waving her over. She made a sound like a startled hamster and darted over to the couch, never missing her chance to do a little pirouette or movement to let her dress fly with the wind. When she finally planted herself on the couch, sporting a gleeful, lop-sided grin, Kreig was anxious to get started.

It was time. He had both his siblings sitting in front of him, George on the left and Sam on the right. George in that odd suit, legs crossed and hands resting freely on his lap. Sam in her proud dress, cupping her head in her right hand, still smiling.

He’d better get to it.

Since he didn’t want to be a bother and force them to sit awake for too long, he painted quicker than usual, but with no less detail and care. Every brushstroke, every blotch of colour he added with care and momentum, placing it where it had to be for the express purpose of it being there. He transplanted reality into fiction, taking what there was, his brother and his sister, and transforming them into art.

And when that was done, when all the bases were covered, he moved on. His siblings were starting to get tired, but he did not. He had to hurry.

With all the care in the world, taking all the time to fully study every piece of his sibling’s features, from the faint freckles speckling Sam’s tanned face if you looked close enough, to the slight hunch to George’s back. He saw it, and he painted it. That night, he studied his siblings closer than he ever had. That night, he truly felt like an artist. A poet of the canvas, an author of the real. He placed emotion and life in their lives, animated them into existence, made them feel like humans.

And then… He was done. It seemed. The painting was right there, starring his brother and sister as they were. As they felt in reality.

But something felt… missing. Some little part of them, something he hadn’t expressed.

...Yes, that was it. He had painted them as they felt. As they looked. Not how they were.

Adding this to an already finished painting felt like an impossible, daunting task.

But he did it. He saw his siblings, where they sat, and he saw their humanity. Something he had thought he himself had lost. Compassion, patience, loyalty. He believed he only had one of these. But here, in them, he saw all three. He saw it, and he put it on his brush, and he put it on the canvas. He took their virtues and placed it into the painting. He took their humanity and made it visible.

And there… There it was.

His greatest work.

Artistry reached Rank V

Artistry (V)

Rank V: Evoke opinion

Rank IV: Evoke emotion

Rank III: Greater anatomy, perspective, shading

Rank II: Greater colour and design

Rank I: Stable hands, smoother lines