Work Text:
Live. Laugh. Love.
Those words on the poster had been staring Violet in the face for almost a week now, and yet she still hadn’t the faintest idea what they meant. She had once heard that it was supposed to “remind her of the value of living” or some shit like that, and she hadn’t had the energy to argue.
She tore her gaze away from the wretched thing and tried to concentrate on her work. The paper lay flat on table, a blank canvas. A pencil was clutched tightly in her hand, freshly sharpened.
It was simple, she told herself. Just put it to the paper and use the lines to form a picture. Even a child could understand it. Sure, it would be a lot slower than her preferred method, but it was better than nothing.
So Violet sat there, waiting for inspiration to strike as it always had. And it did.
Just not in the way she’d been expecting.
She let the pencil fall to the floor. Her hands instead moved to the paper, sensing every inch, every last fibre, and willing them to change form. A single bright red dot appeared in the centre of the paper. Then came another, and another, spreading like wildfire across the page. All manner of colours: royal blue, burning pink, shining gold.
It may have been a frivolous use of her magic, especially since she was supposed to be keeping it secret, but by now she was too far in to care. The power coursed through her veins, overtaking her completely. Under her skilled hands, the image grew more and more detailed, until it was practically coming to life beneath her fingertips–
Just as suddenly, it all vanished. She was merely Violet again, the fallen witch, sitting at her desk with perhaps the most detailed image on the planet lying in front of her. She recognised the scene immediately: the sun-baked skeleton of an ancient dragon resting on a nearby hill, the same view out of her bedroom window at home; her real home, the one she had fled so long ago now.
Her vision began to swim, and she leaned on the desk for support. She had always been warned not to over-exert herself, but even a taste of that kind of power was enough to get you drunk.
Violet held the image up to her face. It was good; some of her best work in a while, in fact.
Before she knew it she was taking another page from the pile, ready to put her magic to work once more.