[6] Look Who's Creative

Caesar explained that I was a Guardian among the countless others of our realm, and just like the many of our realm and other realms, I had the right to protect and create with the abilities I had been given that I was most emotionally tethered and mentally tethered to, mainly by my own choice.

I leaned back on the chair and looked up at Ethan. He smiled. I was immediately reminded of the conversation we had on the way there, about whether or not I would like who I became.

A new concern approached my immediate thoughts two seconds later, and I wondered if it was possible to narrow my talents to just one field. I voiced this.

A smirk crawled over Caesar's thick lips and his eyes lit up. “This is always my favourite part of the job,” he said, sticking his face into the folder, searching for something with vigour.

I observed him carefully, his deep blue eyes dilated with enthusiasm on the topic at hand, his long slender fingers flipped between loose pages filled with words and words he knew only all too well. His glasses were tucked halfheartedly over his noticeably protruding nose, thick black eyebrows bending as he concentrated. He read over words quickly; Ethan and I could barely hear anything he was saying except for a selective few mumbles to which he would shake his head in denial that it was the right page, and when he'd finally found the right one, he raised it up high, and slapped it unto the desk. He grinned cheekily, seeming so enthusiastic everything he did, and I understood why he'd been assigned to this department of the Guardianship - his love for the medical aspect was overwhelming and his passion for the subject radiated through his enthusiasm until I myself felt connected to the field.

“This, my dear,” he said, handing me the page, “is your aptitude test. This is going to give me an idea as to what field you belong in. It isn't always completely accurate at first, but as a first draft, it's a pretty good starter for most newcomers.”

I looked down at its content and saw ten questions each with four possible answers.

“Do I have to fill this out right now?” I asked. My answer was already waiting as I looked up, finding Caesar’s hand extended, a pen in it pointing towards me.

A bit of bickering commenced between Ethan and Caesar while I proceeded to complete the test, and I was caught up in making the right decision for each one that I didn't hear a word they had said.

All of the questions had two possible answers that were logical and two that were creative. I reread each question a few times, contemplating which answer was most suitable. This all seemed so hard, and maybe I shouldn't have thought so much about it considering it was only a first draft as Caesar had said, but I still wanted to get it all right. When it was all over, I wasn't surprised to realise that most of my answers had landed in the Creative category.

I loved the creative side of everything. Creating something from the heart, from the soul, from the mind brought me peace. It led me to a happier place. It released some of the tension I held within me. Creating things brought me the tranquillity I needed so much in a world that only made space for time and effort. When I allowed the desires of my heart to consume me both internally and outwardly, time didn’t exist. Time was frozen, time was gone.

I handed the page back to Caesar who took it eagerly, immediately proceeding to analyse it.

“Well,” he started, when he had finished reading it, “I don't need to tell you which category you fall into.”

I grinned, “I know. Look who’s creative.”

Caesar took off his glasses and blinked a few times, “You do know that this means you’re not in the same category as Ethan, though.”

“Right,” I said, biting her lip. I was suddenly nervous. “Geography would be logic and facts,” I realised. I turned to my best friend, confused. “If you're part of the logical department, why did you become a tattoo artist? That's a part of the creative side, isn't it?” I turned back to Caesar, who was just switching from an understanding expression to a puzzled one.

“Well, to make things simple,” Caesar began, “Ethan used to be creative. He loved the creative side of things...”

“-But then life happened,” Ethan interjected, “...and I realised creativity wasn't getting me where I needed to be, and so I moved to the logical department.”

“Just...like that?” I asked. “What do you mean 'life happened?’ I don’t...” I suddenly realised that maybe somewhere along the lines of Ethan's creative journey as a fire of potential that was too far from going dim, someone may have blown it all into darkness, and he'd been left with nothing but emptiness to fill with something he regretted, until he reached the point of complete acceptance.

Ethan didn't say anything, and I didn't need him too. Instead, I stood up and hugged him tightly, and it took him a few seconds to budge from being a strong soldier to just being my best friend who hugged me back.