Somewhere beyond the dimensions of unreal lurked the unforgiving reality and smoke. Fumes and corpses. Rubbled filled plains and nothing but empty shells of buildings. Among the grey sat red. and orange.
A boy of nomore than 12 year old was consoling his sister as she was weeping on his red shirt. The day had been very costly to him. Today he had lost his father and his schoolmates. The war forgave noone. A year ago his mother and both his elder brothers were killed. And now all he had left was his little sister
The boy truly had nothing to his name anymore.
Except.
his name, which was Mufakkir.
The bearer of creativity, a storyteller who dwells within his mind and presents great tales of imagination.
Imagination!
Yes he had imagination. The boy was always gifted in that. He could form poems and stories out of nothing but they were always about death and destruction, Not something little ayla wanted to hear. No! He had to invent something beautiful. Something colorful. Pretty. Something amazing that would completely turn her world upside down and she would forever be happy!
Now He had to tell her a story nomatter what the cost. He just had to.
He couldnt lose her.
So he had sent his mind on the quest. To find colors and inspiration. To find dragons and voyages and mythical creatures. To find fairies lurking in the magical forests. He closed his eyes and urged his mind to bring him some inspiration from deep within.