The canvas was blank, mocking her. Her butterfly, Ruby, fluttered around her face, landing on her nose. Ruby’s vibrant, blood colored wings blurred her vision as they flapped. Muse laughed, causing Ruby to fly off her nose. The white peonies growing in the young girl’s thick curls were in full bloom. A chunky pair of earrings swung as the girl turned her head to look out her studio window, not really seeing anything. She walked towards the box of paints on her bed, opposite of the window. The row upon row of pure white gleamed in the light of the lamp on the hand-made bedside table. Muse started humming, trying to pick a style of paint she wanted. Notes of violet spilled out like splattered ink around her, showing indecision. The youth closed her eyes, her hand wavering over the paints.


Muse continued humming, letting her hand slowly reach out. Her hand grabbed a tube, holding it lightly in her palm. Slowly opened an eye, the girl peered at her now opened hand. She smiled softly, reading the words on the tube of paint. ‘Oil paint’… Muse removed her bracelets, putting them on the bedside table. The crystal took a hold of her art palette, smearing a glob of the white oil paint onto the surface, and reached down to grab a paint brush from the jar on the floor next to the canvas. As she dipped the brush into the white glob, Muse’s eyes began to glow, lilac light replacing the white around her.


The pigment in the paint changed color instantly, Muse’s joy bursting onto a canary yellow quarter note on the white background of the canvas. She started singing, colored notes floating around the room. Ruby landed on top of the Muse’s head as the sound of her siblings running down the hall crept through the closed door, their laughter creating dark butterscotch colored whole notes. The girl poured all her feelings into each brush stroke, colors streaming from the bristles as her waterfall of emotions shifted the white pigment to fit. Dropping the brush into the water nearby, Muse scratched some dried paint off her chocolate colored arm. The sound of light knocking on the door startled Ruby, the butterfly fluttering around maniacally. Sonnet poked her head in, her maine coone Leo shoving past her into Muse’s room.


Sonnet’s hair seemed to glow, the double bloom purple tulips in her curly locks shining like her lime green eyes. You could only tell they were siblings from their untameable brown manes. From behind her, their younger brothers Rune and Page stumbled in, tripping over Sonnet’s longer legs, trying to get into their oldest sister’s room. Rune’s black-footed ferret, Robert, looked up from it’s nap on the boy’s neck, blinking at Muse as if wondering what she was doing. The Italian white sunflowers in Rune’s thicket of hair opened wider as if copying his butterscotch orbs that grew while looking at Muse’s canvas.


Ruby fluttered in Sonnet’s face, the butterfly flapping furiously as if she could yell at Muse’s sister for startling her. Page smiled, the same eyes as his twin glinting, the strawberry blonde sunflowers in his curls making him seem older then he was. He asked, “Another piece, Muse?”.


The elder crystal smiled back, “No, a piece is a finished work, this is just the beginning.”.


Page’s white ferret, Ronny, ran down his owner’s arm, leaping onto Muse. He snuggled onto her shoulder and began chirping, little black eyes beaming at her. The twin boys linked hands, saying together, “Ray’s here.”.


Muse blushed, shouting, “Why didn’t you tell me that first! Get out, I need to change.”.


She pushed everyone out, light purple pulsing around the young girl like a second heart, letting Ronny run off her arm onto her brother’s shoulder. Before she finally shut the door, Leo slipped back out, leaving a trail of black fur behind him. Muse shoved her bracelets back on, pausing with the last one. The gray wire bracelet shined, azure and lilac colored beads laced in with the wire were made by her betrothed, Ray. Ray was an accomplished poet, a fine line of work that was popular in Keshet, their home country. It wasn’t surprising that he was here, but for some reason Ray always made her nervous and flustered. Muse shook her head, shedding her paint covered shirt, putting a white blouse on, and keeping her messy white skirt on. She shoved her bare feet into knee-high socks and shoes that buckled at the ankle. As soon as the clothing touched the crystal’s skin, it shifted to the same shade as her eyes.


Muse nodded her head, as if allowing herself to head outside her room, Ruby flying right behind her. Light poured out from the room just down the hall, but a particular shade caught Muse’s eye. Dark blue… He really is here!


Muse popped her head into the living room, seeing her siblings hopping around a man she would recognize anywhere. Azure colored eyes seemed to smile at her as Ray waved at his betrothed, his long hair held back in a ponytail. Blue cornflowers opened like a dancer’s dress as they spun in his brown strands, matching his eyes. Muse waved back, signing hello. Even though art was a part of every crystal’s life in Keshet, ones like Ray were sometimes born without the ability to talk.


Even if Ray could hear Muse talk, she still liked signing. When the pair was little, other young crystals would ignore the fact that Ray was mute and shout at him, trying to make him talk and ignored his signed responses. Little Muse found this irritating, knowing that it wasn’t fair that Ray was the only one that couldn’t be in the conversation because he wasn’t able to talk. So Muse went on a strike, only talking in sign that she had studied nightly so that she could understand her friend. Finally the other young crystals started signing back, ending Muse’s verbal silence.


Muse started signing, making sure Ray caught each symbol of her question. The young man nodded, his bangs swinging over his right eye as he signed yes. Ray ruffled the twins’s heads, kissing Sonnet’s forehead before following their older sister into the kitchen. Without Ray to bother, the younger crystals quieted. Muse knew that her siblings were practicing their flair, otherwise known as ones’ gift. Which didn’t manifest until a crystals’ thirteenth birthday. Every crystal had a flair and it was always shown in a form of art. Muse’s happened to be painting.


Ray got a pot out, his wolf, Bela, panting at his feet. Ruby landed on Bela’s furry, white head, the wolf grinning and letting out a single bark to greet the butterfly. Muse smiled, rubbing the she-wolf’s thick fur. She knew full well that the only reason Bela wasn’t playing with Muse’s siblings was because her owner was cooking, which meant food would be dropped. Ray might as well have been blind with his coordination skills. The only reason he could even make jewelry like Muse’s bracelet was because of his flair. The female crystal set out already prepared ingredients for Ray, watching him work his cooking magic. Soon the air was filled with a rich, saucy aroma, the bubbling liquid in the pot enticing the senses with spices Muse couldn’t even name, much less use. Once Ray deemed the soup ready to be eaten, Muse dished it out, shouting, “Come and get it!”.


Muse’s betrothed slid his arm around her waist, smiling softly, the flowers in his hair opening wide. He held up one hand and signed once, saying three words that were as familiar to Muse as Ray himself. She sighed, grabbing his hand, and whispered under her breath, ”I love you too.”.