The Academy: Formaldehyde; Let's talk now of many things

"A wise king once told me 'we are one'. I didn't understand him then. Now I do."

Skylar was humble enough to blush when called beautiful, and scold them for their poor judgements. Pixie-like is a way to describe her look to him. Fox-like, even, head tilted and eyes doe-wide. In all truth Skylar was an awkward girl, never really able to come out of her young form. She was translucent, though at the same time earthly, her long-legs and wide eyes, much like a doe. Not like a horse at all. In a mirror she would say she saw a skinny little nobody, with nothing more than air and earth to hold her tight.

Perhaps she was a ghost of another sort. She chuckled as visions of the child-ghost of Christmas Past danced across her mind. Impossibly young, impossibly beautiful.

She does not move, the girl of air and earth, not until he has spoken. It is only then that she notes the beginning of what was a part of herself in him. She smiles, widely then, and with it she steps forwards, her muzzle lowering to touch the snow that now blanketed the earth. She breathes, and the snow melts away only for a moment. There is a stem of something now, growing from the earth where most lay dormant beneath the snow. In a matter of minutes, before Formaldehyde then is a long stem, and at it’s end, a white rose blossoms. Skylar giggles then, her air blowing upon it, and now the rose was encased in a thick of ice, though never killing the details that the beautiful flower possessed. She giggles again, sighing apologetically for her daftness.

“Oh.” She gasps then, only for the fact that he had asked something of her and yet she had failed to respond. Her smile turns apologetic then as well. “There is not much to tell of myself.” She pauses, her smile fading to a thin one upon her lips. “I fear many things in life, but I suppose…” she furrows her brows intensely in concentration. It was a hard question, for how do you know what you fear most when you barely know yourself? “I fear disappointing my father more than I already have. I believe in love (silly, for I know so little of it), and yet at the same time I fear it as well. There are so many things, Formaldehyde.”

If only he knew the depths of those fears, and how much they were to her. If only he knew of Stelios and her feelings of him. If only he knew of how much a mistake her birth had been, and if only he knew how truly helpless that she was….

s k y l a r
Scholar, Andarin, Air III, Earth III
Nicodemus x Hawthorne