The young girl sat perched halfway between the edge of the terrace wall and the splendor of the Keep. Her easle was propped before her. A blank canvas, like so many other things in her life, adorning it's edge.

She had come out on the terrace to paint. It was her passion; the one thing that man who dared called himself guardian could never take from her. But the colors would not come.

Tears slipped idly from her blazing blue eyes, like the trickle of rain from the edge of the roof. She stared hard at the crashing waves, willing them to transform themselves into the masterpiece of colors she so longed to see. But, the canvas stared blankly back at her, taunting her in its pristine nature. It would have none.

Her brush hung limply in her hands, as she painted circles on her hands. Anything to numb the incescent need, the drive to create. What was she if she could not change this simple emptiness into something of great beauty? She had never known any joy greater, save the time she spent with her husband. But he was such a busy man. It was all she could do to pray that the sands of time did not slip into the gears of their love and destroy them.

Her lips parted as she pondered the canvas yet again, head tilted to the right, her black hanging loose. "Why do you torment me with your emptiness? Why are you to be devoid of thought? Of feeling?"

She reached up and lightly brushed her bare hand across the white surface. She choked on the sob which threatened to rend its way from her inner-self. The wind whispered softly across the terrace wall and settled into her hair, lifting it as though it were a bird.

The girl swallowed hard and approached the edge of the terrace. Her eyes reflected back the water crashing at the Keep's base. She whispered softly to herself, almost as a lullaby. "But that I could paint a better world. That I could paint away the pain, erase the hatred with my glorius chalks. If only I could stop it all with a stroke of my brush, just as he changed everything for me with a stroke of his fingers along my jaw. Oh, that her were her to give me reason, give me joy. Then, perhaps, were my muse perched upon the golden twilight... then might I paint a better world."

She glanced wearily at the setting sun, as it stole the blue from the ocean, turning it black. So was her inspiration stolen when the sun of her life was set in her eyes.

In a daze, she turned at the sound of approaching steps. Her husband, clad in his Market Best approached her from the Keep." Whot now me love... this canvas is all blank. You've been out her for hours."

"Oh husband, I fear I have lost my will to paint. What with you fighting wars which are not your own, and the child on the way; it is just too much."

He reached her in two quick steps and scooped her into his arms. Kissing her neck delicately, he smiled against her skin. Her arms wrapping around him securely.

"Oh, Mary. Sweetest Mary. I would die if your gift was lost. Something like that, it just don't go away."

"I have stared at the ocean for many hours, Escobar. It will not come."

"Perhaps, you are looking to hard?"

Marynne glanced at her husband, a smile creeping onto her lips. She gingerly stepped from his arms and set herself before the canvas. Without another word, she lifted her brush and softly began to paint. Escobar sat upon the wall, watching his wife with a look of love and admiration planted on his face.

She painted for a few more hours, still. When she finished, the only light was of the moon. Escobar had not moved. When she waved him over with a slight wave of her hand, he approached slowly. He stared at the painting a moment before sweeping Marynne into a delicate embrace. He buried his face deep in her hair and whispered softly, "You have painted a better world, my love."

On the canvas, Marynne lay on the beach while Escobar played in the sand with what was to be their children. The sun glistened merrily and the sky, and all were happy. Marynne leaned her head against Escobar's chest, and gripping his hand gently, rubbed the bulge in her belly.

"It will be, beloved. It will be."