Isles of Myst
Dawn's Grove
Mid-day
The harvest season skies were clouding up over Dawn's Grove and Kylie Jonas had known since daybreak that an afternoon rainstorm with the north wind blowing would occur. It'd been a rather dry fortnight, and she silently thanked the goddess for the approaching rain because the stable's water wells were running low for the horses.
Wiping her brow beneath her kerchief-tied hair, Kylie took inventory of the three large wooden barrels she'd filled with leaves this morning. They would provide a good mulch in planting season. Kylie's second most favoured season was harvest season; her first being the snow season of course. Standing beneath the tall trees, she breathed in the smell of golden browns, vibrant yellows and deep reds and savoured the memory they evoked.
...Sunny brisk day...her first Harvest season on the Isle. Piles of leaves outside the DragonMyst Inn. Playfully pushing Jackson in and then getting tugged down herself until they were both tousling about and stuffing leaves inside each other's jackets. Breaking into laughter as they drew curious gazes from passersby. The edge of a leaf trailing over her lips before he kissed her...
Kylie's grin faded to a sad wistful smile as the present came back to her, and once more she was reminded that Jackson had no recollection of that fond moment or any of the others the couple had created. Several months had passed since his nightmarish ordeal with Ameila Wilkins, crazed woman who held the painter hostage in her house, and still so many questions remained unanswered. Jackson's memory was a blank slate and somehow he didn't seem quite whole -- as if that woman had stolen part of him away. Still, at times Kylie would forget, lulled into the pattern of their life, and she found herself surprised to have to explain some minor detail in their past lives to him, but she continued to do so with empathy and a gentleness only a true essence could possess.
Kylie had tried, unsuccessfully, to find the man who had helped her contact Jackson when he was kidnapped. All she knew was the enterprising young PSI-channeler was named Cal and he had seemingly vanished, as newspaper ads and private inquiries had found nothing. Eleven different mages, priests, priestesses had come to Dawn's Grove over the recent months, some at the request of Kylie's parents and friend Khelti, some at Kylie's asking, and some who said they'd felt a calling to this place, this energy, this circumstance. They tried immersing the past around him with significant items in his life. They called to the spirit world as they sat Jackson at the gravesites of his grandmother and his first love. Yet all of their methods, spells, tonics, chants, sacrifices, and prayers did not trigger Jackson's memory in any foreseeable manner. In fact, these attempts left Jack as well as Kylie feeling worse each time. There would be no more, they'd decided. They would try to move onward, build new memories.
The outpouring of interest from the Isle's population regarding Jackson's situation and his work was tremendous. As with most tales of incredible proportions, rumours about him grew with his reputation. His paintings, coveted as much more than just novelties, had nearly tripled in value and hung within the cavernous halls of most of the nobility and upper society, thanks in part to the Queen herself. He was the nouveau artiste du jour and invitations to soirees and elaborate balls came by the boxful to Dawn's Grove. The Jonas family preferred to stay close to home, and no one outwardly questioned that in this time of seeking solace. The reporters of the Mystonian TownCrier still hoped for an interview however.
Kylie placed the heavy blankets over the barrels of leaves and tied them with thick twine as the first drops of rain pelted down upon her. She'd bring the wagon out tomorrow to haul the barrels back to storage. It would be a good night for soup, she thought as she headed across the wide field she was married in and toward the welcoming stone structure that stood solid and protective against a backdrop of the island's mountain range.
She opened the door to the house to hear her daughter's peels of laughter ringing around the high ceiling foyer and echoing from Jackson's studio. Then she heard the baby's voice babbling enthusiastically, as usual of late. As Kylie followed along the hall, shaking off the droplets of rain, a moment of clarity broke through the babble for the eight-month old and Emma chimed, "Da-da!"
Breaking into laughter, Kylie joined them in the painting studio to find Jackson with the widest, proudest fatherly grin on his face, flecks of blue paint in his hair and across his cheeks. "Look Ky, my little protege..." He was holding Emma, whose hands were completely blue and reaching out toward the white canvas before them. This would be a true Jonas masterpiece.
To learn more about the Kylie and her family:
http://www.bittersweet.f2s.com/kylie/
~~~~~~
"she looked so fine,
i said baby what's on your mind?
she said 'i want to run like the lion
released from the cages,
released from the rages
burning in my soul tonight...' "
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