shine
Cellach.
That voice. He knows that voice.
"Aidan?"
I'm here, Cellach. The Angel of Darkness-well. Let's say there are some surprises in Heaven, shall we?
"...I'm dead?"
Not quite. Almost. Look-Brendan will be fine. Kells will welcome him, and the Book will survive for longer than even I would have believed.
"But I-I haven't seen him in so many years-"
Do you have anything else to say to him, Cellach?
"I...I've made my apologies."
And he's showing you the Book. You've said and you've seen what matters. Come now, Cellach. I promise you'll see him again.
Cellach falls into the beautiful designs within the Book, paces along the whorls and knots and watches the flowers bloom in front of his face, watches Brendan young and Brendan adult and Brendan old watching him with a serious but glad look upon his face.
In the end Cellach finds Aidan with his arms held open wide, and the shining light pulls them home.
leaf
Leaves are not overly complicated or exciting to draw, some would say. Brendan can't agree. It could simply be because they mean a lot to him.
A leaf is green; a leaf is Aidan, showing him how to make ink, showing him to draw, showing him what his imagination can do.
A leaf is the forest; a leaf is Aisling, showing him the miracles of life within the trees, showing him beauty, showing him how to be brave.
Every leaf he draws is a tribute to them, and so drawing a leaf is his most favorite thing in the world.
wither
The inked Eye, the symbol of Crom Cruach, pressed from Brendan's palm to hers.
Symbols, especially those of gods, have power.
It seeped into her hand, her body, her mind in an instant. Not obtrusively enough for her to notice. Just enough to infulence her. Just enough to make the the words the boy said more important to than they really were.
"The Book will never be complete."
The Book. His art really was beautiful, wasn't it?
(Crom lived through art, through drawings on the walls of the Mound, designs etched in stone and blood.)
"The Book?" Chalk vines that were so, so beautiful unfurled in her mind. Wouldn't it be a tragedy if they would never be any more than that? something whispered.
Looking into Brendan's ernest face, her resolve to keep away withered.
"...Alright then. I will help you."