Creation Makes One Tired

Creation Makes One Tired
“Grandmother?” Quinn furrowed her brow. “Is she Ainmire’s mother?”

“No, of course not.” Brigid shakes her head. “She is Isolde’s mother. Only the Goddess of Winter could give birth to such an evil snake.”

Brigid inhales deeply. Her face returns to its natural calm nature and she quietly states, “Calm down, Brigid. No one is evil. She has her reasons. Bad reasons, but they are her reasons.” She spoke inwardly to herself.

“Now, let’s continue.” Brigid addressed Quinn. “Since you understand your fire capabilities, let’s explore your creation ones.”

“Creation, like babies and stuff?” Quinn’s eyes widened with confusion.

“Well yes, babies. But also everything else. Plants, trees, sometimes small animals. I am the Goddess of Spring.” Brigid smiled proudly.

Quinn gave a slight curtsy and replied, “My goddess, please show me how to create.”

“Like fire, it just requires a little concentration. Unlike fire, which is often derived from anger, creation comes from love, happiness.” Brigid waved her hand and a forest erupted in the room. Vines clung to the walls and a tree sprouted where the chair once stood. Grass, speckled with wildflowers, covered the floor.

Quinn stood frozen in amazement at the life before here. After shaking off the wonder, she turned to Brigid. “It’s so beautiful.”

Brigid flourished her hand again and the forest vanished. The room was nothing but wood and stone walls again. The ashes from the chair were still piled on the floor. 

“Oh, bring it back.” Quinn pleaded. “It was so beautiful.”

“It is your turn to create it, my child.” Her voice was soft, caring.

“I am not sure I can.” Quinn shrugged. “Happiness seems to be a lot harder to generate than anger.”

“Think of your child,” Brigid quickly corrected herself. “Not the bad things, but the good ones. Think of his little hand wrapped around your finger. His rosy red cheeks. The cooing noise he makes when you are near him.”

Quinn closed her eyes and thought of all those things. Warmth spread over her body. She then thought of the vines and grass Brigid had created. She thought of the lovely flowers blooming from the floorboards.

When she opened her eyes, the vines and grass had returned to the room. Small flowers similar to the ones Brigid had created dotted the floor. Quinn cupped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes widened with awe.

“Did I do that?” She said through her fingers. Her head swiveled to take in the room, but her feet seemed planted firmly in place.

Brigid laughed and rested her hand gently on Quinn’s shoulder, “Of course you did, my love.” Her other hand waved across the air pointing out what Quinn had created.

Quinn lowered her hands and revealed a giant smile spread across her face. Pride flickered in her eyes. She had actually done this. The feeling was different from creating fire. She felt warm and at peace. Fire creation made her feeling anxious and alive, ready to defeat the world. Just creation was the antithesis of fire creation, though now she really wanted to take a nap.

A giant yawn stretched Quinn’s mouth and she immediately raised her hand to cover it. “Excuse me,” she apologized. “I guess creation wears me out.”

“It does have that effect when you are starting out,” Brigid replied. “You will get used to it with time.”

“I will practice later,” Quinn made her way towards the bed. “Right now, I need a nap.”

Before she could crawl onto the bed, Brigid stopped her. “You will do no such thing.” Her hand pulled Quinn back from the mattress.

Quinn startled, exclaimed, “What?!”

“Did you forget about your child?” Brigid’s brow was deeply furrowed. She knew that the creation power could take a toll on a being. It also could be quite distracting. She was not trying to scold Quinn, just help her to remember why she was learning to create in the first place.

“Oh my god!” Terror crossed Quinn’s features. “I am a horrible mother. I completely forgot about my son.” Her eyes swelled with tears. “You must think I am an awful person.”

“Not at all, my child.” Brigid wrapped her arms around Quinn. She smoothed back her hair and gently kissed the top of Quinn’s head. “Creation takes away thought. It requires an amazing amount of focus. It is easy to forget.” She looked down at Quinn. “I am just here to remind you.”

“I am sorry. I am just so tired.” Quinn shook her head, then lowered in with guilt.

“No need to be sorry. Just hold on a bit longer.” Brigid stepped back from Quinn. “Do you think you can do that for me?”

“I will try.” Quinn’s voice wavered. Her answer was unsure, but she straightened her back anyway and tried to look alert.

“Good, that is all I ask.” Brigid gave Quinn a warm smile. “Now, let’s try one more thing.”

Quinn nodded.

“Let’s create the tree.” Brigid motioned toward the pile of ashes. “This is a large creation so you may need to focus on a deeper, longer happiness.”

Quinn knew before Brigid finished about what or rather who she would visualise. Her eyes closed immediately. Warmth spread throughout her body. She giggled as the thought of his touch, his smell, and his voice echoed in her mind. Ciaran held her close in her thoughts. She imagined the tree's trunk being his strong body. The tree’s branches were his arms wrapped around her. She settled into the embrace and opened her eyes.

A majestic tree stood where the ashes once laid. It was larger and fuller than Brigid’s tree. Pride radiated from Quinn when she saw what she accomplished. A similar pride reflected in Brigid’s eyes. Brigid stared at the massive oak in front of her. She had expected Quinn to generate a small sapling or maybe a bush, but this tree was gigantic and covered in leaves.

“Wonderful, my daughter.” Brigid beamed. “What ever did you think of to create such a grand specimen. She shook her head. “Nevermind, I do not want to know.” Brigid turned back to face Quinn. “Now let’s go get my grandson.”