Wishmaker Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Read chapter 7 of Wishmaker by Larch on NovelPedia.

Crackle! As the familiar warmth took over his body, Valentine closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. The flames engulfing his skull expanded and created an external shell around his body, and within the flames caressing his skin, he could feel his mind undergo a multitude of changes, becoming lighter, clearer, and sharper. Within the flames, he observed many changes that occurred around him, rapidly lighting up the room with a familiar four shades of glow and creating the thirteen suns above Sunday's head. Awesome... He marveled as they shattered like brittle glass and descended across his features. His face started to visibly change shape with faint popping underneath; his bone structure was adjusting to the ethereal form above his eyes as well as the flames, which surprisingly didn't feel hot despite being all over his skin. It was beautiful. Not just because it looked like something out of a fairytale, but also because everything seemed synchronised in his eyes. It was as if the colors were not simply for decoration but rather a symbol that gave it its purpose. His friend once told him that everything has its own form because of how it works and what it produces; no matter how much one tries, it will still stay fundamentally the same. Going by his logic, these flames would melt anything that comes in contact with them. But somehow, it didn't. It had the opposite effect, granting life rather than taking it. Like clay, his head was molded into something proper instead of being wrapped in bandages with only his face to show. At the corner of his eyes, he saw strands of hair falling down his forehead; once dirty and unkempt, it was now shining under the pale sunlight, in its best shape. Valentine took a deep breath, and for once, it didn't hurt him to exhale. "Thank you." Sunday whispered under his breath, his voice now clearer and more distinct. Ending it with those same words as the last time, he stood up from his stool, dusting off his clothes from ash that settled all over them. Sweat was pouring down his face, staining his beard, which looked like a tangled mess. Even his gaze, which was as vibrant as the sun, had gotten duller over time. It was clear that doing this ritual of sorts was exhausting. Sunday took a brief look at Valentine's face, which was as smooth as marble, and showed a light smile. His features had changed a lot after the blessing. The youth had a slightly pale face and smooth skin thanks to being newly formed; his soft, delicate features made him look calm for once, with half-closed eyes and thin, closed lips. Seeing this, his heart warmed up. "Your mind is clear now; you can ask me questions, but I won't guarantee an answer." Sunday's words were as blunt as before, making Valentine grumble from annoyance. He waited for a couple of seconds, staring back at the confused boy whose gaze was focused on something outside, before letting out a laboured sigh and turning for the door. Then suddenly... "Wait!" Valentine called out with a clear tone, prompting the old man to turn back with an expectant look in his eyes. "Do you need something?" "No, uh... kind of." What's with my voice... Holding onto his throat for a moment, Valentine was confused. He never sounded like that; his voice was now higher, as if a teenager's... which he was. His growth spurt made him sound like he was in his late 20s. Now, however, it was back to the young and cheerful tone he always used with his teachers whenever he got into trouble. Furrowing his brow, he coughed a couple of times, trying to adjust his voice to what it was before, but the only thing he managed to accomplish was a meager replica, something that made him look like a complete idiot while his voice cracked with each attempt at forming a sentence. Sigh. It's annoying, but I think I can get used to this. Giving up on the idea of changing his tone, he looked down at the floor where countless sparks still lingered for a few moments and then dispersed into tiny fragments,