Gloss

At first he thought he had been blinded. All around him a searing white light shone with an intensity so great his eyes began to tear. It was a few moments before he realized that this light did not hurt, his mind merely thought it should. The brightness was intense and he could see nothing save a vast expanse of white emptiness. Then, very slowly, colors began to seep onto the canvas. They were not however, colors of the world he knew- they were brilliant and at the same time blurred.

            Shapes took form about him and he wondered at where he could be. Had Írime's hands sent his mind into another realm? What was he looking at? Suddenly, in the time frame of a blink, the world around him came into acutely sharp focus. He was still in his bedroom, yet it did not look like his bedroom. Everything about him was covered in a fine, hazy mist.

            The ancient wood-carved bed stood with a blurry halo the color of dry mud about it and the blanket upon the bed seemed to radiate a soft yellow glow. What was he seeing? When he turned to where Írime had last been his eyes opened wide in shock. She still stood with her noticeable smile, but all about her a wreath of violent silver light shone.

            "You see?" Her voice sounded distant, even though she could not have been more than a few feet from where he now stood. What did he look like to her? Legolas drew his hand up towards his face, creating an odd sensation throughout his arm, and noticed that he too, seemed to be covered in the fine mist; his was a soft blue-gray color. He looked down upon the courtyard and realized what Írime had been speaking of- the array of colors and lights was astounding. Each person seemed to have a different misty halo surrounding his or her body. Legolas could see brilliant shades of deep green and celestial blue, one small child seemed to practically glow the bright orange shade of leaves in the fall.

            "What? What am I seeing?" He asked Írime, who had come to his side. She smiled and pointed towards the world beyond the courtyard- a veritable teeming mass of colors too brilliant to be named.

            "Colors…you can see the colors…" Hardly an answer to his question and yet a fitting description all the same. Everything about him…everything was colors. He turned to Carandoliel, all but forgotten in the excitement of the moment but when he looked upon her his smile fell short. A light surrounded her as well, only hers was dull gray- very nearly black. He turned back to the courtyard, confused.

            {Why do all the others have such brilliant colors, yet ours are so dull and lifeless?} There was no one below him with the dull ash colored aura he and Carandoliel seemed to share; what could it mean?

            "Írime, what am I seeing?" He asked again as he turned to face her, the brilliant silver of her aura now dulling slightly as she thought to answer him.

            "The colors." She spoke as though there was no other way to describe them. "The colors… colors…" She became frustrated, as Legolas clearly did not understand her. He looked down into the courtyard again and noticed that the colors were beginning to seep slowly out of his vision- he was returning to normal sight. A though struck him just before the last of the mists slipped from his eyes- was he seeing an extension of life forces themselves? Were the colors representations of the people and things they surrounded? Írime nodded her head as though she was reading his thoughts.

            "Colors." He whispered the word and turned his head to look at Carandoliel.

            {What do her colors mean, though…if that is the case?} She rose to her feet and walked to Legolas' side, keeping her eyes firmly upon Írime.

            "He sees." Írime pointed at Legolas with childish giddiness and Legolas wondered if what he had glimpsed was all she could see when she opened her eyes. Her large white eyes still reflected a dull gray-blue and Legolas realized that she was seeing his colors, that she could see them all the time.

            {If that was the case- why did she so violently scar her eyes? What can she see that I could not?} Then, he remembered the discoloration of his aura as well as Carandoliel's- was something wrong with them? The thought caused an unwanted shiver to run the length of his spine and he felt Carandoliel press her body against his as though is had passed through her as well.

            "The colors show me everything- the man with black eyes…his color is red- blood, the color of lifeblood…" Írime seemed to be talking with herself but intuitively Legolas knew her words to be an omen, a sign of some sort. Something was wrong- something was terribly wrong and he meant to discover what it was.

            "Írime, look at me." Her large eyes immediately leveled with his own. "What do the colors tell you?" She furrowed her brow as though thinking of a way to explain and then, very slowly, spoke:

            "The colors show me everything…when you lie…when you are sick…when you are angry…when you are…dying." Her last word dropped a bucketful of ice into Legolas' stomach.

            {Surely, she didn't mean…}

            "Legolas? What is it? What are the colors?" Carandoliel sounded so timid and frightened that he almost forgot for a moment her stature and age. She was as terrified as a child, and rightly so, by the look of horror on Legolas' face. Suddenly a hard knock resonated from their chamber door and Carandoliel jumped slightly. Legolas looked at her and then at Írime, wondering how he was going to explain her presence. The knock came again, more persistent and repetitive. Legolas motioned for the two women to remain where they were, to which Írime replied with a wide smile.