Chapter 2
“There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again.” – Elizabeth Lawrence
The boy was, by all accounts, unremarkable. Average, ordinary, and didn’t seem to have any special traits or talents. He was excitable and had seemingly endless reserves of energy, but that was to be expected from almost any child.
Like the rest of his peers, the boy spent most of his time with like-minded individuals. Whilst hanging out with other children, he made some acquaintances, and after the initial awkward phase in which the children slowly determined their closest friends, the boy began to experience the joys of life, with one distinct difference from his early childhood years.
The bliss of companionship.
Children aged 12 and up were allowed more freedoms, and once the boy and his friends reached that threshold they were allowed outside the city, but always within eyeshot of the guards. Together they traipsed through the lush, verdant sea of grass, basking in the golden glow of the sun and thoroughly enjoying the subtle sting of the cool breeze on their faces. Pearly laughter resonated from, it seemed, everywhere, which brought a smile to the faces of the guards watching over them.
Toys and childish games would only capture their attention for so long, however, and soon the children became captivated by the various professions. They still had their ‘run around like there was nothing else in the world’ days, but they increasingly stayed within the city walls to observe the various going-ons. Be it the constant hammering of the blacksmith, the incessant twangs of arrows being released, the ceaseless work of toiling the fields, or even the quiet introspection of the artists, all attracted scores of curious young ones, eager to learn what they could. The boy started to see the city for what it was – a bustling hub of life and vibrance, and not just his backyard in which he could spend the whole day indulging himself in games and whatnot.
Of course, as befit a teenage boy or girl, their minds were fickle, their attention spans wavered constantly, and their profession of interest changed every single day, some even more so.
Eventually though, with some guidance from their elders and perhaps a moderate amount of peer pressure, these teens would settle down and start their apprenticeships.
The boy was one such teen. He took longer than usual to choose, having flitted here and there all throughout the city, his interest piqued by almost all the professions, but in the end, like the rest, he finally decided on one.
The boy chose to be a painter.
It wasn’t exactly the most sought-after profession, and neither was it the most glamorous, but something about it spoke to the heart of the boy. He had enjoyed immensely his time as a child, and wanted to capture such memories and keep them with him, and what better way to do that than by recreating the scenes of his fondest and most treasured moments? One day I’ll be able to paint masterpieces, the boy dreamed. People from far and wide will come to admire them, and perhaps I’ll even give away some as gifts!
The boy was delighted to see that some of his friends were of the same mind as him and had decided to become artists as well, but unfortunately, most of the teens that he had been mingling with had all gone down separate paths, and their conversations slowly died down.
For better or for worse, the boy’s circle of friends had shrunk, but it had become tighter-knit, and for a time, the boy wasn’t sure how to feel about that. But one thing was crystal clear to him.
His journey had just begun.
Change (Short story, a few chapters - Completed 30/06/19)
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Originally Posted by Admiral Van Tromp
I was trying to contrast the primal way animals react to newborns with the rather ordinary way the people react, but as you can see I didn't do it very well. Also, setting, hmm...that shall be expanded upon. Your comments are very helpful, I appreciate the feedback!
). I think for a side project like this setting that word restriction is really helpful, and can drive much more motivation for yourself. In my ongoing CW thing I have also been aiming for roughly 500 words each time, which helps a lot.* I find that with such a short update, it is easy to get a whole thing out in one day (maybe even just an hour), and that can make me more easily think to myself "Hey, today I'd like to crack out an update!" With the AARs they almost inevitably take more time, and so you really need to be in the groove to get started on writing a new chapter. So yeah, try to stick to that limitation, and I think you'll find yourself wanting to write on this more, because progress feels much more forthcoming. At any rate, I'll be back by later to read the actual story itself!
