Storytime with Amber

Jade unfolded her easel and set the canvas on it. She had been classically trained at The Institute, so she brought out the 4 cups that she used as a palette and her single Glass Paintbrush. Into the connected shallow cups she poured Color, Light, Shadow, and Erase. 

She looked at the scene. It truly was breath-taking, so capturing it would be a challenge. This was only her fourth commission, and she had already been hired by one of the most influential families on Sylvanore Island. Being trained at The Institute and given a Glass Brush had given her prestige that other artists had to work years for—decades, even. But it was still an honor and a privilege to paint something so important while she was still so young. It spoke to great things for her future… provided she didn’t fuck it all up today!

One last tour about the room—the double arches, immaculately carved from a single piece of marble, opened onto the turquoise waters of the ocean below. A pale pink settee sat ready for her subjects—the newly married Daughter of the Crown and her husband from Jenarka.

It was a political marriage, of course, but the husband, Thom, had been coming to their island every year at the end of the rainy season since he was a child. He was always in the parades. Then he’d leave, back to his country, right before the true onset of the heat. He had the coloring of someone from Jenarka, with incredibly pale skin, so it was important to get the lighting for this painting just right. 

Jade also had light skin. Her mother had emigrated from Jenarka while Jade was still an infant. It meant that everybody at The Institute had wanted her to sit for them to practice, since Highlight on the lighter skin was so much more difficult to capture than the standard dark tones. Ironically, Jade hadn’t had any practice painting others with her skin tone. This would be her first. Even more reason to get it right. 

Once she was sure that the lighting would work and that everything was in place, Jade called the couple in and then carefully took her seat. Mirada walked in first, as befitted her station, followed by Thom. They even walked importantly. Jade’s hands began to sweat. They were going to be able to tell she was too new to be painting something so important. They were going to take one look at the painting and know that this was her first important piece and laugh her out of the palace. They were going to… stand there staring at her? Oh goddess, had she spilled her paint on herself? Jade began looking around frantically to figure out what she had done wrong (already!) and Mirada cleared her throat. 

“Where do you want us?” she asked.

Jade pointed to the settee—the only piece of furniture in the room apart from her occupied stool. The couple walked over, awkwardly positioning themselves around the heaps of fabric that they had been dressed in, and stood at either end of the seat. 

“Can you sit?” Jade asked.

They sat. Thom had rumpled his sash between his legs and it had fallen to the floor. Mirada was hunched over the edge in an unflattering position. They were perched on the settee as far apart from each other as they could possibly be. This would not do.

After carefully setting her painting accoutrements down, Jade stood up and walked over to the couple. She did not know how to do this. In class, students simply arranged the limbs of the mannequins that they were painting. By the time they had moved onto live subjects (each other), everybody knew the best poses to sit in because they had a good understanding of painting at that point. But this was the Sovereign Family. She could not move them around like she would a lifeless mannequin! 

Thom gave her a brief, tight smile. He was clearly uncomfortable, but his eyes were kind. “Do you need me to move?” he asked. 

“Yes, please! Closer together.” It was a wedding portrait, after all. The couple inched closer together and then stopped. 

“Thom, what if you put your arm around Mirada’s shoulder? And Mirada, you could put a hand on Thom’s leg. That should give an air of unity to the portrait.” Referring back to the Portrait Composition classes from the Institute seemed like the safest way forward.

Thom moved first and Mirada followed. The couple moved reluctantly, which was unusual. Jade had grown up hearing stories of how well these two got along. She, like everybody else that she knew, assumed when they wed that it would be a marriage filled with devotion despite the political nature of the entire thing. 

They were touching, barely, but the clothing was still rumpled. There really was no other option.

“Excuse me, may I?…” Jade trailed off. She didn’t even know how to finish the question, but Mirada clearly had experience with this. 

“Yes, yes, of course. Move me however you need to for your picture.” That too, was said with kindness, despite the brusqueness of her demeanor. 

Jade got about positioning their clothing so there were no wrinkles, as well as ensuring there were no stray hairs or loose threads. She helped Thom lean gently into MIrada, briefly causing both of them to bristle, and then she lifted Mirada’s hand and placed it on Thom’s leg. It was surprisingly similar to posing the mannequins used in her lessons, which made the entire thing more comfortable—for Jade, at least. She stepped back to take one final look at them, repositioned a scarf, and then the scene was perfect.

“OK, we’re ready to begin. Please remember your positions.” With that, Jade sat down once again to paint.

At The Institute, she had always done the background first. With the Glass Brush, it was easy to paint one color on top of another—no need for layers. If she made a mistake, simply dip the Brush in Erase. Fill in highlights and shadows with their respective inks. Jade had seen how modern artists painted—those who lacked the talent to use a Glass Brush and thus could not receive classical training from The Institute. They needed to mix dyes and oils and add layer upon layer of paint to achieve the same effect that she could with merely a thought and a stroke of her Brush. And Color, of course. Color was transparent until she gave it life with a thought. That was why it was so important to have the subjects sit before her. Jade could look at the precise color in front of her and replicate it perfectly on the canvas. It was why artists trained at The Institute were so highly sought after.

But that didn’t mean that there wasn’t skill involved for those who used a Glass Brush. Composition, patterns, angles and perspective, not to mention a high amount of concentration, were all skills that had to be learned and practiced. Thus; The Institute. 

Jade brought her focus back to the blue of the sky as she painted large swaths of it on the top half of her canvas. There were clouds, but she chose to ignore them, instead moving on to the blue of the ocean before starting in on the intricacies of the waves.

“You don’t have to squeeze so hard!” hissed Thom.

Jade looked up. His voice had been quiet enough that she didn’t think it was meant for her, but still loud enough that she could hear every word. 

“Well you don’t have to lean all of your weight into me. I have to do something to hold myself up!” Mirada responded, before looking up to see Jade watching. She smiled and threw in a “dear” to Thom. 

Jade turned back to her painting, focusing once again on the waves. She just needed to     get the background finished, and then she could get to work on the couple. Once she had their basic features and colors down, she could let them go and finish up on her own. That was probably the best way to deal with the awkwardness. 

Everything was going fairly smoothly, and Jade had moved on to shaping the arches and the wall behind the settee, when the couple started at it again. It was difficult to make out the whispered conversation, but it sounded angry, so Jade kept her head down and attempted to focus on her work. 

“I just don’t understand why you’re being so unreasonable!” Mirada hissed.

“Why I’m being unreasonable?!” Thom retorted, turning to face her. 

The arches had taken on the tone of Thom’s hair. Concentration was important when using a Brush—any stray thought could change Color. 

Jade decided that maybe it was time to take a different approach. It would definitely be harder to paint the foreground first, but it seemed prudent to paint her subjects as quickly as possible and send them on their way. She looked up to get started on their outlines, only to see Mirada raise her hand and gesture at her husband. 

“Yes, you! You forget your place. This is my home and everything was perfectly fine before you showed up and demanded everything change!” 

They were no longer even close to how she had positioned them. Jade cleared her throat, attempting to get their attention, but they were now too wrapped up in their argument.

“I’m not demanding everything change, I simply don’t want to be burned to a crisp in my sleep!”

“Umm… excuse me?” Jade tried in a timid voice, but she was completely ignored. Or maybe the couple couldn’t hear her over their progressively louder argument. 

“Cookie would never burn anybody!” Mirada was outright yelling at this point. “Singe, maybe, but never burn.”

Not a single class at The Institute had prepared Jade for this.

She had to do something to interrupt them. They couldn’t hear her over their squabbling, so she’d need to be a bit louder. And authoritative. That was the correct approach. 

“Return to your positions at once!” As soon as the words left her lips, Jade felt the mistake of them. Thom and Mirada both turned to her, and she wasn’t sure who of the three was more shocked. Visibly shrinking, Jade wished that she could disappear entirely, but knew she had to find a way to continue. 

“I mean,” she squeaked out, “so sorry. C-can we please return to our positions?” Silence. But she continued, against her better judgment, “so I can finish and be free to leave?”

The couple were shocked. Jade doubted anybody had ever insulted them so far as to say that they wanted to be free of their presence before, which of course wasn’t how she meant it, but she didn’t even know how to take back her words at this point without digging herself deeper. 

Thom was the first to move, positioning himself as closely to his prior position as he was able. His face flushed deeply, and Jade couldn’t tell if it was due to being called out for arguing or for her faux pas. Either way, she felt her cheeks grow warm in turn. The discomfort from everybody in the room was palpable. Jade was more embarrassed than she had ever remembered being in her entire life. And the problem with embarrassment was, it made her talk.

“Look, this is only my fourth commission and I don’t know what I’m doing and may be way out of line here, but clearly there’s some stuff going on between the two of you and maybe it might help if you talked about it,” a brief pause while she took a breath and then, despite her brain screaming at her not to, she continued, “You should look happy because it’s a wedding portrait after all so I’m going to come smooth out your clothes again and then I’ll sit so just hold still kind of like the mannequins at class and this will all work out if maybe you talked to each other while I painted?”

Another pause for breath. Mirada and Thom were staring at her with blank looks. Her brain screamed at her to shut up, but Jade felt her mouth open again. A question! If she asked a question, she would force herself to be silent long enough to wait for a response. 

“So who’s Cookie?” 

It was the wrong question.

Mirada’s face lit up and she was about to answer, but Thom cut her off. 

“She is a menace!” he fumed.

“She is an angel!”

“She is a dragon.”

“She is the best dragon.” Mirada’s voice was fierce, but her face was full of love. The love, as far as Jade could tell, did not appear to extend to Thom.

“You can’t keep a dragon as a pet in my room.”

“Cookie is not a pet! She’s family.”

“You don’t have any other family members sleeping in my quarters.” Thom said dryly. “Do I not get a say in what happens in my own room?”

“It was her room first,” Mirada replied with a sniff. 

Thom sputtered, clearly unable to form a response, and turned beleaguered eyes to Jade. Upon seeing her with her Brush in hand, he seemed to remember himself.

“So sorry,” he apologized, his tone abruptly changing. “You were about to, how did you put it, move us about like the mannequins from your class?”

Jade cursed her light skin as she felt heat rise to her face again. If she had normal skin, her blushes would not be nearly so noticeable. 

“Umm… yes? P-please?” Her voice was halting, but at least words weren’t tumbling out of her mouth faster than her brain could keep up with.

“By all means,” Mirada said. “The sooner this is done with, the better.”

And the sooner I can leave, Jade thought with a pang as she remembered her words.

She smoothed out their hair and clothes as quickly and professionally as she could manage and then practically ran back to her seat to begin painting, not even bothering to carefully arrange everything again. Her professors had always told her that item arrangement was of utmost importance, but she was throwing everything she had learned out the window in this new environment. 

She dipped her Brush in way too much Color and, completely ignoring the background, started immediately on Mirada’s face. Her dark skin was familiar, which made it easier to paint, and Jade clung to anything that was easy in this situation. Not to mention that Thom’s face was still flushed, as Jade imagined her own to be, so she would need to wait until the color calmed down to paint him.

She was just finishing the eyes, easing the tightness around them and adding some artificial joy into Mirada’s expression, when a loud thump startled her and caused her hand to bounce across the canvas, spreading Color the same shade as Mirada’s lashes across the page. With a sigh, Jade dropped her Brush into erase. She had been doing so well. 

Another thump, louder and closer this time, and Thom looked apprehensive while Mirada looked hopeful. Jade had only a few seconds to register their expressions and her own confusion before the door burst open and a mass of shiny pink scales and wings burst through the door. 

“Cookie!” Mirada shouted over Thom’s muttered cursing.

A trio of maids rushed in, chasing after the dragon who had begun circling the room. They breathlessly started explaining that Cookie had escaped and they had been trying to catch her while she rushed from room to room, looking for Mirada.

Jade, as she had done since meeting these two, simply sat back and watched the scene unfold. There was no controlling the actions of today, it seemed. 

Even with the prestige (and pay) that this commission would surely bring her, Jade might not have taken it if she knew it would have turned out like this. The tiny dragon bumped into the leg of her easel as it zoomed in circles and took short flights around the arches in the room. No, she definitely wouldn’t have accepted this commission if she had known better.

Righting her canvas, Jade decided that there was no way out of this but to go through it. The maids had seemingly caught on that chasing the small dragon around the room was just exciting her further, and they were off in a corner, worriedly trying to figure out how to proceed. Cookie had started jumping up on Mirada, only to have Thom push her back down so she could sprint around the room again. It was causing further tension between them and wasn’t actually helping because everybody was in motion anyway.

Giving up on having any semblance of control over the situation, Jade sighed and announced, “You are all free to move about the room.”

Thom and Mirada once again turned to her in confusion. This was becoming uncomfortably familiar.

“Do you not need us to sit for your painting magic to work?” Thom asked.

It took every ounce of her strength to reply that nobody in the room had sat still for any part of this appointment. And that wasn’t even touching on how disrespectful it was to refer to her skill “painting magic.” Miraculously, she instead took a deep breath. 

“It’s fine,” she lied. “We’re far enough along that you can move, as long as you turn to me when I need to see your faces.”

Everybody looked relieved and Jade knew that, despite how much harder it would be to paint moving subjects, she had made the right choice. She had no idea how this painting was going to turn out, but there honestly wasn’t a single positive outcome to this scenario, so she might as well try to be personable. ‘Oh, she doesn’t paint well, but she’s nice enough once she’s done yelling at you’ wasn’t a great recommendation, but it was the most positive one that she could hope for at this point. And all thoughts of being paid had completely left her head.

The next hour or so passed with Mirada and Thom playing with Cookie by tossing one of the cushions that had previously been placed as a prop. It seemed that Thom rather enjoyed Cookie’s presence when the dragon wasn’t trying to share a bed with him. Mirada had sat facing Jade and would look up every time she was requested to, until her face, hair, and basic figure were finished. Then her and Thom swapped places so Jade could paint him. Cookie was tired out by that point, and had curled up to sleep on the settee. The maids had found a pack of cards and were playing in the corner of the room. Things had settled down nicely. 

Jade was outlining Thom’s clothing when the door opened once again and someone exclaimed, “Oh dear heavens!”

“What is it now?” Jade asked, turning, only to see the Crown herself enter the room. Jade dropped her Brush and hastily stood so she could curtsy and silently berate herself for her tone. She heard skirts swish and shoes tap as the Crown walked across the room, but kept her eyes steadfastly  on her feet, maintaining her curtsy. 

This was it. This was when she would be fired, disgraced, and possibly even exiled. OK, maybe not exiled. But the Crown would ask and it would come out that everybody was moving about the room at her suggestion and that would be it. She would be finished. Her intuition telling her that she was not experienced enough for this commission had been right and she should have listened. She should have turned this job down. Clearly, she was not good enough to be working on this. 

“Everybody out.” The Crown’s voice brooked no argument. Jade, her eyes still directed to the floor, stood up and began to collect her things. 

“Not. You.” 

Jade finally looked up to see that this last was pointed towards her. She sat down. 

The maids had scooped up Cookie and were carrying her out the door as quickly as they could. Thom and Mirada stopped to curtsy in front of the Crown, and Jade heard her say to them, in a low voice, “This is worse than the last three attempts. You two need to figure something out because a wedding portrait will need to be released. People are already talking. Our Island cannot appear weak.”

The newlyweds kept their heads down and didn’t say anything in response. It was the least movement Jade had yet to see from them.

“Dismissed,” said the Crown, and they followed everybody else out of the room.

Jade sat as still as a statue on her stool, unsure of what to do next. The Crown came to stand behind her and Jade began to tremble. It was the worst of manners to stand behind an Artist while she was working. Everybody knew that. But she would not say anything about it to a member of the Sovereign Family. Even if she would have tried, she doubted that she would be able to get much out around the lump in her throat. 

“Well, you got further than the others, despite the level of chaos in the room.”

Jade did not turn around. She did nothing to acknowledge the words. What could she say? She very much doubted that an attempt to explain that the Crown had entered at the lowest point of chaos thus far would be appreciated.

“Speak nothing of what has happened today. That is the most essential part of our agreement. Know that you will regret it if you do. Your commission fee will arrive in two weeks’ time. You may go.”

The Crown began to walk away, but Jade needed to know. “And the painting? What should I do with this?”

Crown Elowen turned around and barely glanced at the canvas before responding, “It is worthless.”

Her words stabbed daggers right through Jade’s heart. Tears sprung unbidden to her eyes, tears that she had managed to suppress all day. The Crown had already turned and was exiting the room as Jade’s legs gave out beneath her. She sank to the floor as the first of many sobs escaped from her. At least there was no longer anybody left in the room to see how much of a failure she had become.

Later that night, Jade sat alone in her room, the unfinished painting thrown haphazardly against the wall across from her bed. Her tears had dried and she had fought her shame for long enough to leave the palace. She couldn’t bear to look at her work long enough to Erase it, so instead she had kept the canvas covered with her body as best she could to prevent anybody else from having the misfortune of viewing it. Worthless. She was worthless. The word swam around in her head, blocking out any other thought. 

She would show them worthless.

Jade had experimented with a new style while she was at The Institute. She loved it, but every one of her professors had expressed concern, dismay, or even outright disgust when she had shown it. The paintings did not look realistic in her style, instead focusing on the emotions of the painting’s subjects. 

If she was getting paid for this worthless painting, she wanted to at least have something to show for it. And honestly, she didn’t have anything to lose at this point. Picking up her Brush, she thought of Mirada and how her face lit up when she saw Cookie. She pictured Cookie’s rainbow shimmering scales and infused them into Mirada’s dress and her hair. This style had to be done from memory, it couldn’t be done if the real image was there to distract you, so this was perfect. 

Next was Thom, and she painted him in his formal Island-wear, but with the colors of the Jenarkian flag. She painted the snow and ice of the region in his skin, and the green and red brambles of the Jenarkian rose in his hair. He was a foreigner adapting to a new land and a new lifestyle and this version of him reflected that. 

Jade Erased the background, save for the arches. To those she added purple, the color of love. She brought the ocean in, so it lapped at the feet of the couple and the settee, and she drew a sunset on the walls of the room. It was alive and bright and passionate—just as the couple were.

This style of painting came easily to her. It was relaxing and creative and everything positive about being an Artist, even if others did not see it as an acceptable style. By sunrise, she was done. 

Despite painting all night, she wasn’t tired. Jade honestly wasn’t sure she’d ever be tired again after the emotional turmoil of the last 24 hours. Regardless, now was not the time for sleep. She knew what she had to do. With the canvas carefully wrapped and tucked under her arm, Jade set back out to the palace. 

When she arrived, she realized that she had no plan to get inside. This was not going to work! Maybe it was time to go home. She stood there, at the entrance doors, indecision sticking her feet to the spot. 

“Oh hey, you’re the painter!”

Jade twirled around to see one of the maids who had been caring for Cookie.

“I have this,” Jade said, holding the painting out in front of her. 

“Great, let’s take you to Mistress Mirada!”

Before Jade could protest, the maid had grabbed her by the arm and was hauling her inside. 

This was not part of the plan! Jade had only wanted to drop the painting off and be on her way, she had never intended to see any member of the Sovereign Family again. After the disaster of yesterday, she was sure that none of them wanted to see her either. But at this point she had no choice except to follow the maid who was practically dragging her along. 

After winding through countless hallways, Jade was helplessly lost and slightly out of breath. The maid was fast! Jade also had to maneuver a bulky canvas, while the maid wasn’t carrying a thing. Finally, as Jade was about to ask if they could take a break to catch her breath, they stopped.

The maid wrapped sharply on one of the doors and after a quick “enter,” she opened it and they walked in. 

“I have the artist for you, miss!”

Jade hid her face. She didn’t want to see the look of disgust on Mirada’s face. Her mind raced with all of the reasons that the Sovereign Family might be looking for her. Had they thought she hadn’t followed the Crown’s agreement? Was there an even more grave error she committed yesterday than simply being worthless? 

“That was fast, thank you! And look, she already has the painting with her?”

Jade had no idea what was going on. How had Mirada learned of the painting she had finished only hours earlier? 

“Well, actually,” the maid began, but Mirada had already stepped across the room to stand in front of Jade.

“Give it here, then,” she said brightly. Jade looked up and she was smiling at her. How very odd. Mechanically, she held out the painting. She supposed the goal had been to give it to the Sovereign Family, so this was still accomplishing that.

Mirada uncovered the painting and gasped. Damn. Jade had known her style would be hated, but she had hoped she wouldn’t be present for the reaction.

“Thom!” Mirada called out. “Thom, come see this!”

Jade wished she could disappear rather than hear the disappointment from both subjects of the painting.

“What is it, my dear?” Thom asked as he entered the room through one of its many doors.

“The painting is finished, but it is so different from what we had expected. You have to see it.”

Thom walked over to stand next to his wife before letting out a long whistle.

“You, Miss Artist, are a miracle worker,” he said.

“What?” Not her most articulate moment, but it was all that Jade could manage to come up with.

“You fix everything overnight and then show up the next morning with this? Whatever we had agreed to pay you before, double it,” said Thom.

“Triple it,” chimed in Mirada.

Jade sat down, there in the middle of the room, right on the floor. She had never been one to swoon, but she felt as though she might faint otherwise.

“Get a chair, and something to drink,” Mirada told one of the maids. Jade was carefully moved to a chair and given some water while Thom and Mirada explained that her advice to talk to each other had helped immensely. In fact, they had stayed up all night talking and realized that Thom was homesick and Mirada was adjusting to married life, but it was nothing that they couldn’t work through together. 

“And the painting!” raved Mirada. “We have sat four different times, but have been unable to complete a single session.”

At the admission, Thom and Mirada both looked a little sheepish, but Thom continued on.

“We discussed it and had planned to have you come back and finish the painting that you had started, since you had gotten the farthest. Of course, Elowen—”

“Crown Elowen,” interrupted Mirada, but Thom waved her away.

“Yes, yes, Crown Elowen wanted to go back to start with one of those stodgy old men that have been employed as Artists for longer than I’ve been alive, so we had to get you to come back today, before she had a chance to hire anybody else. And you did!”

“You really liked me?” Jade was incredulous. She had yelled at them!

“Well, we liked you more than the other Artists, at least,” said Mirada with a wink. “And you handled Cookie so well!”

“Ah yes, Cookie,” said Thom. “As it turns out, she liked the settee in the painting room so much that she’s agreed to using it for her new bed. I no longer have to share! Clearly you’ve solved that problem as well.”

And while Jade didn’t believe any of this, she certainly wasn’t going to argue.

“And the painting,” said Mirada. “This is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen!”

“Yes,” agreed Thom. “It’s like you painted the very essence of Mirada. Thank you.”

“Y-you’re welcome,” Jade stammered.

“My mother will not like it,” Mirada said while looking at the painting once again.

“Your mother doesn’t like anything,” Thom replied flippantly. “I still think this is the one. We need to start bringing in some contemporary art and technology to Sylvanore. This is a great first step.”

“Yes, this is our official wedding portrait.” Mirada turned to Jade before asking, “So when will you be available for your next commission?”

Jade was glad that she was already sitting down. Maybe she wasn’t worthless after all.

The tarot series draws inspiration from Holly Sierra’s Chrysalis Tarot deck. If you’d like to view the entire deck, or purchase a copy of the deck for yourself, check out the link below! I am not affiliated with her, but am simply awe-inspired by her artwork.

Watch for future stories in the same world about some of my other favorite tarot characters!

https://chrysalistarot.com/about/