Page 24 of Gift from the Tree

There’s a multitude of information on the shelves about Elementra, but I’m looking for something to give me a quicker idea of where I’m currently at. After searching the desk, finding it completely empty aside from parchment and writing utensils, with nothing to really answer any questions I have, I move on to the closet. Opening the door, I’m stunned frozen for a moment before I rush into the room. It’s completely empty, but the sheer size of this room is ridiculous.

There are rows and rows of shelves for shoes and bags, ebony-stained rods hanging empty, waiting for items of clothing to be hung, and a stage-like platform set up with wraparound full-body mirrors at the end, positioned perfectly for a model to step up and show off her looks. It reminds me of bridal shops, where the bride steps up, all eyes are on her in a beautiful gown, and she gets a full view of herself.

“Willow, are you here?” The voice scares me out of my daydreaming for a second before I remember I’m expecting Gaster.

“In here, Gaster,” I call out while I step up on the platform to model for myself in my robe.

“There you are. I was worried you went wandering around this big ol’ house and got yourself lost,” Gaster jokes as he stands in the doorway of the closet. Well, I assume he’s joking. This place can’t really be big enough to get lost in, right?

“Nope. I was just admiring this closet while I waited on you. I can’t believe it’s so massive but empty. Why are there no clothes or anything in here?”

“Well, this room has never been used before, until you arrived, so I guess the guys never felt a need for the closet. Would you like me to bring you some outfit choices in here so you can decide what you want to wear, and we can head on to breakfast?” he asks quickly, obviously attempting to change the subject, which makes me want to question what he isn’t telling me.

“Yes, please,” I answer, deciding not to call him out on something so small right now. He’s been amazing to me since he got me and if there’s something I’m not supposed to know about this closet for whatever reason, then I’ll let it go…for now.

He returns a minute later with an armful of clothes. I can barely see the top of his head over the mound he’s carrying in. “Gaster, what’s all of this? Did you make all this for me?”

“I had some help. You’re going to need clothes to wear, and I know it makes you uncomfortable waiting around in your robe for me to bring you something,” he answers knowingly. But how did he know that? I didn’t even say anything.

“Gaster, how is it you know that when I haven’t mentioned it to you? And it seems you’ve caught on very quickly when I’m feeling things even though I don’t say anything.”

“You’re very smart, child. You’re going to need those smarts in the coming time, but to answer your question, do you remember how I told you sensing magical signatures isn’t the only thing my gift allows me, that I can also map out silhouettes as well?”

I nod, indicating I remember.

“Well, when your mood changes, so does your aura. It’s part of your magical signature. So although I don’t necessarily know what’s causing your mood, I can detect the change, see it, and feel it if I decided to, and that gives me a pretty good understanding of what’s going on.”

Oh my God.

I don’t have to be from this world to understand that’s something incredibly powerful. I can only imagine how I could’ve made my life so much easier back at the estate if I could tell the mood my father or Donald was in just by sensing it. No wonder Gaster said not many know the extent of what he could do. He’d get a sense if someone was happy, sad, mad, lying, and so much more, I assume, just by sensing the subtle shift in their mood.

“Shit, Gaster, you’re more of a badass than I thought.” I really don’t know what to say. This feels like information I have no right to, but he’s willing to share it with me, even though he barely knows me, and I’m very grateful for that.

“Get dressed so we can get some food. I need some caffeine.” Gaster chuckles as he walks out and shuts the closet door behind him.

Fuck, me too, Gaster. The coffee is calling my name.

Coffee being my new motivation, I quickly pick out a light blue sundress I spot on top of the pile and pull it on. It’s just as soft as the one I slept in last night but a little different in material, with designs of flowers embroidered throughout it and comes down right below my knee.

I have no clue what the weather’s like here but can assume warm by the look of not only this dress but all the clothes in Gaster’s pile look more spring-like. I twirl on the platform a couple times before giving myself a once-over and head out of the closet. Gaster’s waiting for me by the door when I come out and a smile lights his face.

“Ah, a perfect choice. The weather’s supposed to be sunny and lovely today,” he announces excitedly.

“That’ll be a nice change. It was freezing back at the estate, so I’m looking forward to the sun and warm weather.”

“Well, it will get pretty cold here, even snow. The time here is the same as the nonmagical realm, but the weather here is different, so you get to enjoy the majority of the springtime, then all summer and fall before you have to worry about colder weather again,” Gaster says, still smiling as he leads me out of the room and down a never-ending hall.

It’s not that I don’t love wintertime because I do. Really, I have no complaints or preferences over the seasons, but I didn’t get to enjoy my spring or summer this past year. My arm was in a cast, and I rocked a black eye, with multiple popped blood vessels, so I wasn’t allowed to leave the inside of the estate. Even after I was fully healed, my punishment was to stay inside, miserably. I drifted into my mind over that memory that crept up and now I’m thoroughly lost.

“I one hundred percent would’ve been lost this morning if I left my room without you, Gaster. Jeez, how big is this place?” I chuckle to myself, picturing my frantic face running through these halls, looking for the room I’m staying in.

“Too big. It’s been in this family for generations. I remember when they built it,” Gaster says with a laugh.

“And how long ago was that?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“That’s a secret I won’t be sharing, missy,” Gaster says, grinning.

I guess it may be rude to ask how old he is, even though he only looks possibly in his fifties, maybe sixties, but I somehow know he’s much, much older.

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