Seer by Teppo Mark

Author:Teppo, Mark
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-02-25T16:00:00+00:00

Constansa watched the rectangles of light crawl across the stone floor of her cell. Dimly, she knew that the sun—whose light was coming in through the narrow slits in the ceiling of her cell—could not move that fast across the sky, and she knew that she was in the grip of the divine presence. She would not need to blink or draw breath; she was suspended, held apart from the world that moved around her.

The shafts of light were filled with tiny figures, golden angels twisting slowly as if they were falling through water and not the air. She reached out, her hand pushing them aside, and she felt their tiny kisses. The flutter of their silken wings against her rough flesh. To them, her skin must feel like the stony wall of the cell felt beneath her touch.

There was a piece of parchment on the table. She was not bothered by the fact she could not remember putting it there. Objects appeared and disappeared all the time when she was held apart. The angels in the light pulled her toward the table, and she drifted across the room, sinking onto the stool with a sigh. There was a lump of charcoal on the table, and it glittered in the sunlight, tiny diamonds winking from shallow crevices. She picked it up, letting her fingers explore the shape, and after a few moments, she found how its contours fit best in her hand.

The light drifted across the sheet of parchment, and she laughed at the tiny footprints the angel left on the page. She daubed after some of them, leaving black tracks, and soon she saw the picture she was meant to draw. Her hand began to move faster, connecting the marks.

The shafts of light crawled up the wall, and the shadows that had been hiding in the corners of the room swam back out, gliding along the floor. She closed her eyes, as there was nothing more to see.

Her hand knew what to do.

She felt the divine grip lessening, and her breath caught in her chest. Something akin to a sob bubbled up in her throat, but she pressed her lips closed. She was not quite ready to let it out.

Not until she finished.

Her hand moved faster. The parchment was not very large, and she filled it quickly with her illustration. The top of the sheet was filled with a profusion of lines—a rain of arrows, perhaps, or a storm threatening from heavy clouds. Below, a man knelt. His head was bare, and his frame was covered in tiny circles—as many as there were jagged lines across the top of the sheet.

The man’s eyes were open, and he stared out of the sheet as if he were watching Constansa draw him. Only when she was satisfied with his expression did she start to sketch in the shadow behind him.

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