#but hey...

QUICKER NOTES:

Title / Name: "The Warmth of Dreams." By Sorceress Aemara.

Dimensions: 44 X 60 " , 112 X 152 cm.

Medium: Oil paint (a poppy seed base, hand grown and personally imbued with magicks by the Sorceress.)

Age: 800 — 1000 years old.

Description: A beautiful painting of a young man in the confines of his castle. The main hue is a sunny yellow, paired with the striking blue of his eyes. A window highlights his frame, sunlight seeps through translucent curtains and pours onto his blonde locks like it is crowning a halo atop his head.

He is holding onto a book, paired with a vase of assorted flowers sitting beside him on the high table. Donning a princely coat filled with ornate decorations, it would seem that his gaze is not fixed on what he is reading but rather, it is looking right towards you.

BIOGRAPHY:

Everything cycles, again and again.

The sun greets him repeatedly, the castle moves in a routinely manner and the book in his hands have been read countless of times. He was brought to this world lovingly by his creator. Each stroke painted with love and care. Every detail, meticulously crafted down to the very petals of the blossoms in his vase. He blinks and moves like it is clockwork. A gentle smile, an elegant posture, sitting beside the same vase every single day.

But deep down... he repeats the words of his creator to himself and carries out his goal.

❝ Claim two thousand souls and you will become real. Take what is theirs and make it your own. Change this painting until it resembles reality. ❞

The moon that comes up and hangs in the sky, fireflies dancing around in the grass, the warmth of a fireplace. He remembers the scenery of the real world. How beautiful it is and so, so out of reach.

He yearns to overcome this invisible glass, yearns to breathe in the earthy air of his surroundings and yearns to feel the texture of trees that fill the land around him.

Even when Sorceress Aemara breathes her last breath, she spends it by reciting the same thing to him, before fading into dust.

The Warmth of Dreams sits in pristine condition still, in a cottage that has dilapidating walls and rotting wood. Anyone who passes by cannot help but to be enamoured by the beauty of this one.

He lures gullible ones in with his charm and sweet words, showing them what he is capable of in this canvas, or world that he is portrayed in. He becomes their confident, their friend or even, their mystical lover. One by one, they disappear... and no one knows where they have gone. And as for him, he treats their deaths as nothing more but numbers. A countdown until he can finally exist as himself.

1, 2... 3... 10... 100... 500... 1000... 1200!

The Warmth of Dreams plans his future killings, eventually 'falling' cleverly into the hands of an archaeologist. It goes from place to place, country to country. He has seen museums, homes and deserted alleyways, everything evolves around him as eras pass.

But one thing stays the same.

Again and again.

He kills and kills and kills.

Just for one wish. And that wish... might not even come true.

How's it going my amazing followers and exquisite internet strangers? I myself am quite well. I was making this post to inform you of two things:

1st: I didn't forget about the N-9 drawing. I'm working on it. It's just taking awhile since I never really drew before.

2nd: I've really been getting into Worldbox recently. It's a fun game, a nice little sandbox civilization game where your a god just doing whatever you want. Making civilizations, destroy them, make cool structures, even discover subspecies of races like humans, orcs, elves, and others I won't spoil. 20 bucks on Steam or free on mobile. Be advised Worldbox on mobile is free, but you gotta pay a one time fee for Premium if you want the REALLY cool stuff.

You don't understand how embarrassingly happy I was. 🥹🤭😅 This man...what has he done to me!?