Menewsha Avatar Community - Seriphina, Sweet Universe

Ceriss set aside his paintbrush and waved his hand over the flat landscape. This was the largest map he’d ever created. He’d had to clear off a good amount of a flat wall around the topmost deck of his treehouse to spread this particular evenly-cut parchment, and use more than a bottle of a serum he’d usually put over a small cut or wound to seal it as it healed to attach it to the wall. He’d worn out the tripod on his telescope near the break of dawn, and now it rested on the floor behind him, its lens staring at the wall of trees leading deeper into the forest. The paint he’d used had no color, but changed at his whim, and as it hit the parchment’s surface, it became three dimensional. While the sky was dark, it was possible to see the planets, the stars and asteroids even by simply looking up. When one’s keen eyes studied and understood the realm above, where the gods dwelled just out of sight no matter how much one scrutinized the complex system of the galaxy. Ceriss could capture each twinkling of a star, a far-away sun and its planets, and those planets that resided within the vicinity of Seriphina, existing and moving as one monstrous machine.

Few could make paintings come to life. Ceriss was one that could, taught by one of his many mentors as he traveled before finding himself right here, after having built his own unique little home in a tree, right outside the nearby village Amahani. This map, precisely fifty inches in length and thirty in width, showed its colors as though it were a smaller version of Seriphina’s spiral-like galaxy, and stood slightly above the paper. When he moved his hand over it, the image moved as well, revealing more of the galaxy and its planets and stars as if it were a hologram. With a satisfied smile, Ceriss peeled the corners of the parchment off the wall and rolled it up. The images folded away with the rest of the parchment, as if it were a simple drawing.

Ceriss went around to the ladder that went to the middle section of the treehouse’s deck, climbing down with the scroll in hand. He’d used about all of his sealing serum, and would have to make more. It’d take a while to find the right plants on his own; the best bet would be to go to the herb stall in Amahani. Going through the door beside the ladder, he looked around the small, simple kitchen area and found the bag he used to transport the things he sold around the village. Setting the parchment beside it on the low kitchen table, he opened the larder in the corner and lifted the small box off the top shelf. It contained several bottles of varying healing tonics, restoring and invigorating shots that could keep one awake for at least a full day, and various extractions that simply cured an upset stomach or headache. Gathering a few of each, he wrapped them individually in small scraps of cloth and stowed them in the bottom of the bag with the map.

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, Ceriss tied his pale white-yellow hair back and went down to the main level of the treehouse. The entire thing wrapped around the huge trunk of the ancient plant, high above the ground, but not so high that a fall would do much more than bruise, and most certainly hurt. In his simplistic but cosy living room, Ceriss strapped on a pair of sandals and jumped out to the deck that wrapped around the length of the house itself. There stood two ladders on either side, a front and a back, and he took the front ladder down to the ground. His cloth-soled sandals cushioned his feet underneath springy grass, and as he rearranged the bag on his shoulder, Ceriss found the small dirt path that he’d made through the years of traveling back and forth. It had been several decades that he’d resided outside the village, yet Ceriss still resembled a young man. Seriphina was, of course, full of various, almost endless types of life, and more often than not, someone who, like Ceriss, resembled a human, aged very, very slowly. Ceriss considered himself not entirely human. As he could manipulate light sources and plantlife, he thought himself as a warlock or mage. He could only speculate as he’d been tossed around from merchant to merchant throughout the land since infancy.

It was a good enough life, however. He never would have learned what he did had he not accepted this life for what it was: A chance to learn. And learn he did. Ceriss was skilled with his hands, and his mind. It was helpful in the long run.

The dirt path led to a larger road that, as it approached became even cobblestone, the sound of hooves clopping and wooden wheels rumbling. Voices spoke amongst one another as travelers came and went, and as Ceriss passed them, he smiled when they gave him a wave, nodded when he was acknowledged. While most of the people, elves and warlocks, mages and from time to time, centaurs or messenger animals. Furry fox-like Brownies on errands from their masters hopped past, quick on their feet. Passing through the entry gate, Ceriss marveled at such activity during such a young hour of the morning. But it was better to get things done early than to put them off, after all.