Flashback Beyond Sight

[Jorin Ertihan]

Season of Summer, Day 12, 504 AV "What do you see, Jorin?" Kari smiled when she saw her young son struggle with the question. "I see the ocean, mother," he said at last. Kari shook her head slowly, taking out her painting utensils and setting up an easel. She made it look so easy, so graceful. Jorin wished desperately he could do that. She just shook her head, and indicated out to the bay. "Don't look, Jorin," she chided lightly. "Just see. What do you see?" Jorin looked. And looked. And looked some more. Try as he might, all he could see were birds. And the ocean. And the docks. And the boats. He couldn't see what she saw. She saw bright colors, dancing on the surface of the water. She saw nature at its best, man at his worst, and the constant struggle between the two. She saw monsters and Kelvics and Akvatari in the shapes of the clouds. She saw a romance of two birds flying side-by-side above her head, and a war between ants at her feet. She saw the history of ages, written in sand and stone, out there to be discovered. She saw whole universes in the span of a few inches. And she saw the birds. And the ocean. And the docks. And the boats. But she did not admonish her son for not seeing these things. Sight like that took time, and practice. It also took one other thing, but it was not something she could teach. Nevertheless, she was confident Jorin would have it. Handing her son her brush, she asked him one more time. "What do you see?"