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The Colour of Your Heart
Chapter 4 - The Boy Who Played with Colours

Chapter 4 - The Boy Who Played with Colours

After drawing various sketches of the ox and her version of a werewolf the high-class wolf demon transformed into, Mara nodded off. It wasn’t long before she found her way back to her dream.

For a small boy, his hand grip was quite firm. They walked, or rather, he pulled her until they reached a nearby park. They did not run, yet she was out of breath all the same.

‘Here, take a seat.’ The boy gestured to the park-bench. ‘You look tired.’

She was though he made no efforts to confirm or deny. Whatever he was, he wasn't what he appeared to be. That innocent and friendly smile of his was deceiving. He did something back there to her long-term bullies; something so terrifying it brought them to their knees. Although, now that they were away, she admitted the whole scene gave her some twisted satisfaction. The boy reached for her chin, and she flinched.

‘That looks painful.’ He examined the wound. ‘Are you concerned it will leave a scar?’ He spoke with his mind, yet his face was too close. His breath was warm. She even saw up close his spirited blue eyes focusing on her with excitement. The intrusion was too much, and it was difficult to breathe. She pulled her face away and fiddled with her hair, enough to cover at least one eye.

‘Why do you do that?’ The boy cocked his head, oblivious to her discomfort.

Her expression or silence must’ve shown her confusion.

‘That, with your hair. You were pulling it to your face, and you kept doing it earlier, too.’ His curiosity was disarming. She felt her face flush and glanced away.

‘Ah, I’m sorry! Does that embarrass you?’ — he sounded clumsy now. — ‘My friend tells me I ask a lot of questions and has to remind me that some people don’t like that. He’s the first and only one who’s ever told me that. Back where I’m from, people just leave me to do or ask whatever I want, but he tells me the truth all the time. Things are different here, too. This is a new and exciting experience for me, so please, tell me if I start to bother you with too many questions.’

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Mara shifted uncomfortably and struggled to keep eye contact while he showed his kind smiled. She reached for her bag and pulled a notepad. The boy glanced over with that curious expression of his.

‘How are you talking to me in my head?’ It read.

‘Mm… how you ask…’ — He looked pensive for a moment. — ‘I just kind of think them and they go out… it takes some concentration. It’s something we just learn back home, you know, when we want to talk and don’t want other people listening in.’

‘Where are you from?’ she wrote.

‘Wait, why are you writing? Earlier, you spoke to me.’ The boy blurted. Mara flinched again. Maybe this was the point he would start teasing her about her voice.

‘Stop thinking non-sense. Here.’ — He said, dismissing it as he reached again for her chin. — ‘Let’s fix this first. I don’t like to see you bleeding.’

She wondered again how he was reading her so well. He spoke in her mind. Could he read her mind, too? As she thought about it, the boy did not show further reaction. Instead, he brought up his other hand and what appeared to be white, bright smoke bubbled from it. At first it seemed shapeless, but suddenly, as if reacting to the boy’s will, it took the shape of a tiny, and precise, round shape. It couldn’t have been bigger than a marble ball. He pressed it onto Mara’s bleeding chin. At first, there was nothing. Then gradually the burning sensation of the scrape cooled and vanished entirely. When she touched it, she realised her chin was smooth as it once had been. There were no traces of her injury; not even blood. She rubbed her chin again and again in bewilderment. It was as if the injury never existed.

‘How is that? That’s just a little something I picked up last week.’ — he said, smiled, pleased. — ‘It’s not the most famous colour in hel- ahem- from back where I’m from, but it works pretty well. It heals many wounds. I’ve been practising it with our elders. It just doesn’t heal mortal wounds or if you lose a limb. But the elders are so smart. They’re working on ways to improve it. Of course, I’m going to be there every step of the way. They already tell me I’m the best student they’ve ever had.’

He looked slightly smug now, while Mara only stared at him in stupid disbelief, wondering in what circumstances one had to be in to get mortal wounds or to lose a limb. Just who was this boy?!