Amarachi
The Painter of Dreams
In the bustling city of Veridia, there was an artist known only as Lira. She lived in a modest studio at the top of a crooked staircase, surrounded by half-finished canvases and the scent of turpentine. Her work was said to be magical, capturing not just images but the essence of dreams.
It was whispered that anyone who commissioned a painting from Lira would find their deepest desires or darkest fears brought to life. Most dismissed the stories as superstition, but for those desperate enough to seek her out, the tales rang true.
One rainy evening, a man named Elias climbed the staircase to her studio.
—
Elias was a merchant, wealthy but haunted by a recurring nightmare. Every night, he dreamt of a faceless figure standing at the edge of a cliff, beckoning him forward. He would wake in a cold sweat, unable to shake the feeling that the dream was a warning.
When he entered the studio, Lira was seated at her easel, her back to him. She turned, her piercing green eyes meeting his.
“You have a dream that won’t let go,” she said, her voice soft but certain.
Elias nodded, unnerved. “Can you paint it? Perhaps if I see it, I can understand it.”
Lira studied him for a moment before gesturing to an empty chair. “Sit. But know this: my paintings do not lie.”
—
Elias sat as Lira began to work. Her brush moved with precision, strokes of color appearing on the canvas as if guided by an unseen hand. Hours passed, the rain outside turning to a gentle drizzle.
Finally, Lira stepped back. “It’s done,” she said.
Elias approached the canvas and froze. The painting was exactly as he had seen it in his dreams: the
faceless figure, the cliff
